Jesus, sorry about the long wait. I had one long writer's block and a grounding. So yeah. Good thing is that I know how the story is gonna end, but I don't think you'll like it. AAAAND it's gonna take a buncha chapters. Just enjoy while you can. If you don't like the darkness, believe me when I say it'll get a lot lighter.

Waking up was surprisingly refreshing. This was probably of how much sleep I had gotten; only being awake for an hour at most last time. I didn't feel the Slenderman's presence, nor did I get that feeling of eyes watching over me.

Was that what I was calling it now? Watching over me? Those three words almost made the unnerving staring sound like the one behind it was protecting me. But the Slenderman was no guardian angel. He was a demon with a heart so cold, he had to be kicked out of Hell or else the place would freeze.

I giggled to myself at my own joke and decided to explore the cabin. If I was going to stay here, I might as well be familiar with my surroundings. I was just surprised at myself at how well I was taking this. I suppose that once you've been stalked by a supernatural being, had your dad killed and mother severely harmed by killers that weren't even supposed to exist, and lived with an infamous mass murderer, a simple kidnapping didn't seem that big of a deal.

I got out of bed, my warm feet hitting the cold wood. I had almost forgotten it was winter while under the snug blankets. The wood was cold, but not freezing, and the air around me felt warmer than usual in the winter. This told me that this cabin had heating. I've never imagined the Slenderman as one to be easily exposed to things such as hypothermia. So unless I overestimated the seemingly all-powerful invincible being, why would he have a heated cabin? Why even have a cabin to begin with? Was this because he needed sleep? The mystery of his anatomy puzzled me, but I was afraid of asking him, although I felt it was my right to ask questions, even if they are strange ones.

I cautiously walked with my hands in front of my body, not wanting to bump my face into a wall and gain another trophy on my body of scars. When I felt the wall, I stood on my toes and slid my hands towards the ceiling. I spread my arms, sliding my palms in a large circle until one hit a disruption on the smooth wood. The disruption was wood, like the walls, and was a lift. The lift wasn't too wide, and seemed to form a hollow square. The middle of the square was not lifted, but instead was an indention surfaced with glass. It was a window.

I pressed my forehead head against the icy glass. My lips formed a smile, enjoying the frozen sensation against my skin. I could only imagine the flakes of white drifting from the sky and onto the disappearing grass. A sight I've daydreamed about before.

I imagined the crunching of leaves, and a doe steadily, shakily, and cautiously stepping into my vision. She scanned the trees and the snow covered forest floor, before gracefully striding to what I presume is a den, with a fawn trailing close behind her. The scene made my smile ease into a slight grin. It was visions like this, with no sight to disrupt it, that made my lack of sight enjoyable. I loved the sights my mind could come up with, but not the sounds. I rarely ever made up the sounds in my head. The creaking of door hinges confirmed the crunching leaves weren't my imagination.

"Morning, Olivia," said the dull, dreary voice of Hoodie. I removed my head from the window pane and sat back on the bed. "Good morning Hoodie. Is Masky here, too?" I questioned, swinging my feet back and forth like a child. "Nah, he's at the doctor's for a refill on pills," he muttered. I felt my head instinctively give a tilt of curiosity. "Pills? Is he sick? He didn't get me sick, did he?"

Hoodie noticeably chuckled. "No, he's sick, but not contagious sick," he responded. "In fact, we're both sick. Ever heard of Slender Sickness?"

I nodded to his question. I, in fact, had heard of the sickness. Brianna was talking to me about it while on the topic of Creepypasta. From what she told me, it was a sort of illness one experience when you are a target of the Slenderman. But if this was true, then I had yet another question.

"Then why am I perfectly fine?" I asked. I could only imagine him shrugging carelessly. "Not sure. Maybe he's actually able to stop the effects, and he's being a dick to us." I giggled like a five year old when he swore.

"So why are you here?" I asked, feeling the grin never leaving my face. "Well for one, to get some sleep." It was then that I finally recognized the tiredness in his voice. Poor thing must have been sleep deprived. And this must have been his bed. My face fell into a frown and I got out of bed. Once I managed to find his location, I nudged him towards the bed. I could almost see the bewildered look in his face in my mind. I nudged him a bit harder and he complied by moving slightly. I pushed him until he reached the edge of the bed, which was evident by the abrupt stop. "What are you doing?" he said, a slight annoyed mumble in his voice. "Just get on the bed and rest," I retorted, nudging him once again. He snickered, but decided to humor me by getting on the bed. I sat next to him with victorious smile.

"You're way too happy in this situation," he commented, almost sounding worried. I shook my head, but replied, "I guess I'm just a happy person. Now rest. You sound exhausted." Hoodie gave a sigh, almost sounding frustrated. "You're also way too caring. You're trying to help me when you're blind and obviously in more need of help than I am. Hell, you've been kidnapped by the Slenderman, and yet all you can think about is my well-being." My mouth formed a faint smile. "That's exactly my secret. I don't think about it." I said, imagining his frustrated face behind the black mask.

"But you can't just…. Well, not think about it! It must be bothering you right now. It's bothered me for the past four years of my life." He nearly whispered that last part, almost as if he decided he didn't want me to hear it halfway through the sentence. "I guess you could say I just try to see the bright side of things and try not to worry so much. What happens, happens. There's not much I can do about it." We sat there quietly, not sure of what else to say to each other. But then he said, ever so quietly to where I almost missed it, the words, "I guess that explains how you stayed with Jeff for so long."

The mention of Jeff the Killer made me gasp. He was probably wondering where I was! He would be furious when I got back for leaving him there to be bored. And he was probably going to demand that I go shopping, since he usually ate all my fridge's contents under a week or so.

"Do you think your boss might take me home once I get better? I'd hate to keep Jeff waiting," I asked, genuinely curious. Hoodie almost coughed, almost as if he was choking on an invisible liquid. His next sound was in between a scoff and a snicker, almost as if he was making fun of my question and statement, leaving me slightly offended. Only slightly, though.

"I wouldn't be worrying about Jeff right now. Chances are you're never going to see him again." His tone seemed humorous, and I briefly wondered what he meant. Was he joking about my lack of sight? "He brought you here for a reason, Olivia," he said with a suddenly serious tone. "Unless you are some key to a lock of his, he's probably going to make you a proxy." A proxy? Me? Of all people? Impossible! There had to be some sort of hidden reason as to why I was here. A proxy was just as absurd as Nicolas Cage's acting career!

"I think you and I both know I can't be a proxy," I reasoned with him, only for him to laugh. "No, I know you think you can't be a proxy," he stated, making me confused. "But I can't see. How could I be of any help to you three?"

I knew he was smiling, I just knew it. I disliked not knowing something, thus his prolonged answer ached me with every passing second. "It doesn't matter if you're blind," he stated. "One of my boss' many talents is that he can heal any wound though touch. Although, it takes a few days for the wound to fully heal depending on the wound, like disabilities such as a permanent fracture leaving you wheelchair bound."

It was then that I realized that my mouth hung open. I was speechless.

He can heal any wound….

Those five words echoed through my head, and before I realized it, my hand was touching just under my eye. A smile formed on my face as I thought of how wonderful it would be to have my sight back. The news of this ability almost made me forget why I lost my sight in the first place. Once I thought of that… accident again, I frowned and dropped my hand into my lap.

"Can I refuse the offer?" I asked in a monotone voice. The grimace in his voice was evident. "Refuse? I wish. I tried to refuse, and so did T- Masky." My hand twitched at his quickly covered mistake.

"Unfortunately, this led to months of sickness, supposed hallucinations, memory loss, mental torture, and manly crying."

I giggled.

"Manly crying?" I snickered. He gave a brief sigh, before continuing. "Yes, manly crying. It's crying….. but a guy does it." I giggled. "And what's the difference between a girly crying and manly crying?" He stopped and I felt him just stare at me, unable to really answer my question. Or he just decided to ignore me altogether. I giggled at the thought of the stone cold face of a man with tears just slipping out of the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks, while his macho expression never faltered. I knew the face wasn't Hoodie's, but it was still funny whoever it was. I began to wonder what Slenderman would look like if he cried. Tears slipping out of imaginary ducts, sitting on a log, hunched over, while strangling some trespasser with one hand whilst his other wiped his eyes away before someone saw. This vision made me snicker and giggle like an immature sixth grader in sexual education class.

I could feel questioning eyes lingering over me as I was caught up in my insane fit of laughs and giggles. I heard footsteps and the door open and close. I called after him, still laughing and finding it harder and harder to breathe. "W-wait! Ah, I'm sorry for the, heh, for my annoying, hah, my annoying laughter!" My giggling persisted until I felt a hand on my shoulder, silencing me into shaking like a jackhammer, trying not to burst out laughing. I put a hand on the one enclosing my shoulder, and immediately a crying Slenderman was no longer funny.

If Hoodie just left, then who was I touching?

The hand was cold to the touch. A large palm covered my entire shoulder, branching into five boney fingers with sharp nailed on each one. The nails poked into my back and I quivered with a fear I hadn't felt since I was young. Tears pricked my eyes as I removed my hand and let out a shaky breath I didn't know I had been holding. My hand found its way to my thigh and I squeezed it tight, silently praying to whatever god that may be to give me a quick and merciless death. Yes, I still believed that this this, this…. monster, was going to be my undoing. I flinched when a tendril rested under my chin and turned my head slowly to what I assume was his direction. I could feel the nonexistent eyes of the being grazing over me. His gaze forced me to remember my giggling that took place only mere minutes ago. I felt naked, exposed, undignified, and ashamed. It was almost like he owned me, like I was a pet, and I had done something to upset him. That's how I felt. I expected his disapproval, his punishment. And yet, he said nothing. It did nothing. In a daring move to prove to myself I had free will, I snapped my head away from the appendage and lowered my brow to make a sort of glare, but it meant nothing since I could not see.

I didn't want it to touch me.

POV Switch: Slenderman

My fingers unconsciously curled themselves into a fist when she jerked her head away. It reminded me of one of her many faults: that she's still human. I almost shivered at the thought of being infatuated with someone of her species. But I suppose anything with at least a fringe of intelligence and didn't walk on four legs was the best I was going to get.

Her defiance was expected though. But I wasn't going to punish her for this simple action. Instead, I sat on the bed she rested upon. She noticeably flinched at my action, but held no protest. As a little test of the waters, one of my slim black tendrils slipped out of my back and slightly grazed her arm. This brought and immediate jump from the girl, who shied away from the appendage. I repeated the same action, only to receive a less dramatic reaction. She only flinched and nothing else. I rubbed the tendril against her arm twice, both with no reaction, before getting bored and moved to an exposed part of her body. I was originally going to wrap it around her wrist, but my devious appendage had other ideas in mind, and instead stoked her cheek. To my amusement, Olivia squeaked in surprise and scrambled for the other side of the bed. She would have fallen right off the edge if it wasn't for the same tendril gripping her ankle and bringing her back to me with a yank.

She whimpered and shook her leg furiously, trying to get the tendril to release her. It instead jolted up into the air, dangling her from only her ankle. She screamed, partly in surprise and partly in terror, and tried to swat at her foot, but with no avail. I felt my mouth rip open and I quickly covered it with my hand to stifle the chuckle that left my lips. Olivia caught it, though, and wore a look of hatred, and yet a bit of embarrassment. I let out another chuckle, not bothering to cover it up this time. She seemed to get more enraged, but didn't yell like I had expected. Instead, she crossed her arms and huffed. The grumbling was rewarded with another chuckle.

Deciding to end my fun, I dropped her in my lap. She squealed in surprise, but was confused by where she had landed. It didn't take long to figure out that question after feeling up the fabric of my suit pants. Her face reddened, which confused me. To my knowledge, human faces only turned red when they were angry or were crying. She no longer seemed angry, and she had no tears, so why was her face red? I shrugged it off as another human mystery that I'd never understand. Unless…

"Your face is red," I pointed out. She seemed shocked for a moment before she reddened even more. Instead of giving me an explanation, she just crossed her arms and mumbled incoherent words. I soon grew impatient. "I await an explanation." A tendril tapped her shoulder, and she just exploded. "I'm just embarrassed! Okay? That's why my face is red!"

Ah, yes. Embarrassment. Another human emotion. Being ashamed and insecure over oneself. But why would she feel embarrassed in a time like this? Would this be another human fact that I have yet to understand?

As I pondered, Olivia seemed to take my silence for some other negative response, for she then said, "What? Never been embarrassed before?"

I paused before I could answer, briefly going over the observations and very few emotions that have occurred during my lifetime. I bore no memory of ever feeling ashamed, humiliated, or insecure. I think I would remember what I assume was such a foreign feeling. I almost nodded, before remembering her disability, and instead answered with, "Yes, I do believe I have never been embarrassed before." She snickered and giggled at my response. I tilted my head and she continued with her giggling. Was she giggling at my answer? Almost no one ever found what I say to be humerous, much less myself. The only people who ever laughed at me were two year olds who thought a talking faceless man was weird. But they didn't find me weird when they saw their own life essence splattered onto the trees. I mused at this memory, loving the echoes of their screams that are nothing short of music to my ears. Just like Olivia's giggles: music to my ears. I took great pleasure in hearing her voice quiver in fear when she talked, her screams, and the way she bites her bottom lip when she knew I was near. I wonder if she knew she did that. And then there were her tears. For some odd reason, her tears made me… feel something strange. It made me want to take her into my arms, comfort her until she stopped her crying. Was this the pity I've heard so much about? The emotion my proxies said I lacked, along with compassion, fear, sadness, and love. I shivered at the word.

Love. Lieben. Amar. Amare. Diligite. If there was one thing I didn't understand, and probably never would understand, it was that one, simple word. Humans flaunted the word around, saying phases like, "I love this," or "I love you!" Sometimes the word was directed toward a person or pet of some sort, and sometimes it was directed toward objects or things they couldn't even grasp, like books, the weather, a movie, and holidays. But the strangest thing about this word is what it could do to people. It brung people together, either family or lovers, and once someone no longer "loved" another, or was killed by me, it made the other hurt. It was like they were physically in pain, like they were burning alive on the inside. But how could just a simple emotion make someone hurt? Make them cry for hours on end, scream, and even end their own lives. I have yet to even begin to understand it.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard Olivia's stomach grumble. Oh yes, humans still needed nourishment, especially this one. She tried to hide it by coving her stomach with her arms, but that did nothing to muffle the sound. My tendril found its way to a burlap sack Hoodie had brought in for her on my command. It found a large sickly yellow apple and plopped it into her lap. She jolted, before grabbing the small object. Amused, I watched her sniff the apple, trying to find out what I had gifted her with. She found the dent in the bottom and the stem at the top, before taking one large bite of the apple. She smiled to herself and munched happily on the apple. I felt my mouth, which was still torn open, twitch with a smile. It was almost too amusing to watch. The tendril acted on its own and wrapped around her waist and pulled her close to me. Olivia froze and swallowed. After fifteen minutes of silence, she slowly began to eat again. I grimaced slightly at the amount of time it took for her continue, and she still hadn't relaxed. When she had gotten to the core, she looked puzzled as to what to do with the core. Another tendril plucked the apple out of her hand by the stem and set it outside of the window. The apple would soon decay and feed the grass or a flower or two.

I could tell she was still uncomfortable with my appendage still wrapped around her waist, so I slowly removed it to watch her next move. Unlike what I expected, she didn't move off of my lap. Instead, she sat there, looking nervous and biting her bottom lip. She most likely did not move out of fear of what I would do. But she had little to fear; I wouldn't kill her. She was just… valuable to me, I suppose. She had only been in this forest for a day, and yet I felt as though I'd slaughter any who'd hurt her. It was a strange feeling, being so protective over such a lesser being. This was all because she's the only human who's been able to catch my attention, and did it through seemingly unreasonable self-mutilation.

Her act of blinding left me pondering her reasons. I had never seen such a thing: a perfectly sane person voluntarily destroying one of their senses. Most wouldn't even dream of losing one of those. I knew my life would surely be rockier if I could not hear or see. Of course, an eight year old wouldn't have the greatest sense of judgment, but what on this Earth would make a life without sight sound appealing to one so young? Early on, I attempted to convince myself that she had done this on mistake, but to no avail. She stood there, letting the sun burn her sight away, and even did so a second time. It had me speechless, unable to form coherent thoughts, and even made me fumble in my hunting in which a child escaped. I told myself that the girl was just another mentally ill human, and I even moved into a different forest in attempt to forget her and move. Unfortunately, three years later, I was drawn to her once again, and to my surprise, she was still living with her family instead of in an asylum, and she seemed perfectly sane. This was enough to convince me to begin stalking her. My simple interest grew into an intense infatuation, some even say an obsession. No proxy or monster ever questioned me about this, though, which may be the reason why I found no problem with my actions. I didn't start rethinking my motives until Smile Dog killed her father. A bit extreme to some, but I just didn't want any connection between her and anyone else.

But when that man defiled her, defiled Olivia, I almost lost it. I had to disappear; go somewhere where no one would ever find me, much less bother me. I needed to sit down and just think. Think about my obsession with her, think about my next options, and think about everything I had done wrong. Just thinking. That's all I did, for a whole twenty four hours. I sat on a log, just to think. It was near the end of this period that I decided I had to cut the connection between her and the rest of humanity.

Although, I never quite planned out what I would do here, especially now that she was this close. I suppose I'll get to work now that she's here. I still planned to shape her personality to my liking. I wanted her fear me, yet adore me as well. I wanted her submissive, yet able to use her backbone when needed. I also wanted her to know how to defend herself, despite the fact I somewhat liked thinking myself as her protector. I would break her down and rebuild her, brick by brick if I had to, and I would enjoy every second of it. She would adjust, I'm sure, and would learn to respect and admire me.

"Am I going to be staying here?" Olivia asked abruptly, interrupting my train of thought. I paused, before saying, "Yes. Yes you are."

She fell silent again, a look of complete despair across her face. A pang stung my chest, and for a minute I thought I had been bitten by a bug. But no, this was more internal, which was odd. I was immune to diseases, and I hadn't had an attack that would cause problems under my skin. My thoughts were once again broken by Olivia's melody of a voice.

"Can I at least have my cat with me?"

I stared at her. I just stared.