This is Halloween!

Happy Halloween, guys and ghouls!!!  Sorry I haven't posted like I said I would, but I'll try to throw everything I'd been wanting to do into one post in the next day or two if possible.  I have spent the past week working on my Halloween costume and you reader-sans will get to see the somewhat real Turtle-chan for the first time because I'm going to tell you how I made it.  I'm really into costuming and cosplay and this is probably some of my best work.
I have a Scholar's Bowl tournament tomorrow, so I'll need to be going to bed soon, but I wanted to post on Halloween to say hello and tell you about what we just did.  My younger brother and I were asked to help out in a little haunted house that a family we're friends with set up earlier tonight.  We went into it thinking that it would probably be boring and I was freezing because it's been in the low 40s all evening and when you see my costume you'll understand why I couldn't get warm (boys, don't get too excited!).  Anyway, we get there and there's four or five rooms and each room has a different theme to it.  They put us in the front room and give my brother a grim reaper mask and tell me I'm fine as is and hand me a baby.  The room is kind of set up like a sitting room or a living room, so I sit in the chair closest to the door and my brother is hidden behind a curtain.  We don't really know what to do at first, so I just start singing children's songs to the creepy eyeless baby I'm holding, which effectively disturbs the adults, and then my brother has been sitting perfectly still and he moves suddenly when people walk through and they jump.  After the first couple of groups, I decide to stick with "Ring Around the Rosie" since it's about the Black Death and I dangle the baby by its foot while slumping over in the chair.  I'd also follow either the most scared or the most cynical looking person in the room with my eyes and be singing at them.  We got some good reactions and we did the same thing for about 45 minutes of the hour we were there, but then I get a new idea.  When the next group comes in, I sit curled up in the chair I'm in looking at the baby doll and laughing hysterically.  Once people get in, the laughing is enough to scare some of them, but then I start talking to them.  I mostly stuck to shouting," Look at my baby!  Isn't she pretty!  She has no eyes!  I took them out and I ATE them!"  At that point, my brother either staggers into the middle of the room or falls onto the floor.  That's when the kids generally started screaming or crying.  After he falls, I start yelling and laughing again, talking about how he came for my baby but I didn't let him have her but I'd let him take them without lifting a finger.  If the kids were older and being really obnoxious, I'd get up and run across the room, shoving the baby in their faces and chattering at them randomly and laughing loudly, but I'd make sure I positioned them to where they'd be stuck between my brother and I before they could get to the door.  One of the times we did that, the girl in the next room jumped out and got punched in the face by a teenage boy who looked like he was either an 8th grader or a freshman.  So, if you ever want to scare anyone and you're good at acting like a basket case, I'd go with hysterics or singing "Ring Around the Rosie" over and over while slumped in a chair.
Anyhow, I'm exhausted and still kind of chilly and I have to have a high level of brain function for the tourney, so I'm going to go to bed now.  I promise I'll eventually get everything caught up and posted and I'll try to let you guys know about the NaNo WriMo project the Creative Writing Club at my school is working on.  I think you guys might like it!
I hope you guys got some candy tonight and enjoyed yourselves as much as I did!  Happy Halloween!


- Turtle-chan

Nail Art Mock 2: Nefarious Nekos

Konichiwa!  I am back again after being gone for over a week.  Sumimasen!  I hadn't intended to take a break from this, but I always forget that October is the month in which teachers seem to like to throw a bunch of assignments and homework at us all at once, so that's what I've been doing.  Also, I took the ACT today and the testing site was so cold I'm pretty sure I was about to get hypothermia!  Like, seriously, my hands were blue...  But enough of my complaining!  You guys are here for the Halloween stuff and that is what I shall give you!

This week's nail art was what I am going to call Nefarious Nekos because I can't find anything good for alliteration with "Kitties."  I guess I could call it Curious Cats, but that just doesn't sound as adorable.  You just can't beat Japanese for kawaii things.  Anyway, without further ado, here's a picture.  Please pardon the bad quality of the photo and my lack of painting skills.  There's a reason I only draw in pencil!

So yeah, there it is.  Once again, sorry it's so microscopic.  I seriously have no clue why I can't make pictures bigger.  It's either my computer, the website itself, or user error and it really could be any one of the three.

I've got a ton of other stuff I want to post because I haven't been on in a while, but I don't want to bombard you all at once.  I think I may end up posting twice tomorrow because my favorite anime recommendations youtuber has been doing a series of Halloween videos and his knowledge of the more obscure animes is much more expansive than my own and, well, he's absolutely hilarious.  Just giving you reader-sans a heads up before bestowing the awesomeness!

That's all for now.  Keep on rockin' and rollin'!  Only 6 more days until Halloween!!!!

- Turtle-chan

Halloween-ish Anime

Okay, so I just finished watching Soul Eater and my life is basically over now, so I figured I'd compile a list of dark/spooky/creepy/Halloween-ish anime and manga while I nurse my emotional and psychological wounds.  Don't judge, I don't get attached to real people, but by golly I'll find at least one person to obsess over in every anime I watch and every manga I read.  In Soul Eater's case, I had a ton of characters I was attached to (Medusa, Justin, Stein, Kid, Mifune, Crona, Shinigami-sama, Free, etc.) so yeah, I don't know what to do with myself now... (>_<)
Aaaaannnnnnyyyywaaayyyyyy... I'll just make a list for you, in no particular order, of some of my favorite horrifying and/or spooky and/or mildly disturbing anime and manga.  Enjoy!


- Soul Eater (anime and manga)
- Pet Shop of Horrors (anime and manga)  <--- you guys should seriously look into this!!!
- Black Butler (anime and manga)
- xxxHolic (anime and manga)  <---- I believe Medusa and Kid's Japanese voice actors are in this!!
- Deathnote (anime and manga)
- Zombie Loan (anime and manga)  <--- it's mostly funny, but some of it's pretty creepy
- Night of the Beasts (manga)  <--- only six volumes long, but this one's a real gem
- Blood+ (anime and manga... I think)
- Immortal Rain (manga)  <--- Really only some of it is creepy, but those parts are really disturbing
- Fallen Vampire (manga, don't know about anime)
- Rosario Vampire (anime and manga)
- Chibi Vampire (anime and manga)  <--- not really scary, but it's vampires...
- Yuyu Hakusho (anime and manga)  <--- hilarious more than anything, but ghosts


These two I haven't gotten around to watching yet, but I've heard good things about them and, well, I do love vampires, in case you didn't notice already:
- Hellsing (I know there's an anime, not sure about manga)
- Trinity Blood (again, know there's anime, not sure about manga)


That's all I've got for today, so I'll catch you reader-sans later!


- Turtle-chan

More Horror Stories! - The Killers

Hiya, hiya!  Yo!  'Sup?!  Turtle-chan here with another story for you guys!  This is something I've been working on for a while.  I've had some of the first part written for the past two years but haven't been able to find anything to do with it, so I recently dredged it back up and put a story with it.  Fans of samurai, ninjas, and/or vast armies of the undead will probably enjoy it, as well as those people who enjoy strong and kind of sassy female main characters.  I feel like it's kind of corny, but it definitely demonstrates my style of writing, so I hope you guys like it!  Without further ado, my short story entitled "The Killers." (^_^)


- Turtle-chan

The piercing glint of a blade in the moonlight was made even more sinister by the incessant screaming of the wind through the barren trees.  A dark, wraithlike figure floated across the desolate landscape.   The moon loomed overhead, floating orange and bloated like a rotted pumpkin in the starless night sky.  The phantom stood, waiting, as a low guttural moaning started up from within the sorry excuse for a forest.  Slowly, steadily, figures began to stagger from the relative shelter of the trees.  They came in the shapes of men, women, and even children, but there was something that was not quite right about them.  Their posture drooped; they took slow, stiff steps, and made sounds more animal than human, contrary to their appearance.  One drew close to the shadow, close enough for it to see the creature’s cadaverous countenance.

                Its flesh was torn and falling away.  Its eyes were covered in a milky film.  The stench of rotting flesh hung heavy about the creature and the phantom was repulsed.  The flesh of its lips was completely gone, leaving its moldering teeth exposed in a grotesque caricature of a smile.  Its stomach was greatly distended and the shadow thought it had observed what appeared to be fresh blood on the creature’s decaying body and long strands of pale blonde hair protruded from the corners of what was left of its mouth and were trapped beneath its filthy fingernails.  In one sudden movement, the wraith flicked its wrist and a blade was imbedded in the creature’s left eyeball which was slowly oozing thick blood and strange clear goo.

                More of the creatures began closing in on the shadow and it threw back its black hood.  Beneath the hood was a face.  It was the face of a young woman with hard, almond-shaped brown eyes rimmed with thick black liner.  Her elegant ebony eyebrows were drawn into a tight line of concentration.  Her hair fell over her face, jet black with a single strip of neon orange in the front, cutting her face in two.  She had thin lips and was clothed in black sneakers, jeans, and a black sweatshirt.  Her breath came in short puffs, freezing in the icy winter air and then floating away.  In her pale hands, a throwing knife with a wicked sharp blade glinted in the moonlight.  She stood in a defensive crouch, prepared to do anything she needed to in order to survive the fight.

                But as the moaning reached a crescendo, the sound waves crashing upon the girl’s eardrums, a symphony of terror began to consume her.  Rotting fingers began to dig into the soft flesh of her arms.  The stench of decay overwhelmed her.  She felt cold, dead lips near her ear and she could not contain a small shriek of terror which added to the cacophony surrounding her, pulling her in.  She felt the lips of the creature open and then…It was gone.

                The cold fingers fell away and were replaced with warm ones, shoving her to the side and away from the looming horde.  She landed hard on her backside and quickly looked up to see her assailant or hero.  Before her was a young man whirling and swiping at the undead with a long wooden staff that was at least as tall as he was.  All she could see of him was his back side, but from that she could tell that he was probably a little over six feet tall with strong, broad shoulders and long, flaming red hair that he had tied at the nape of his neck. 

His movements were swift and sure, but he was vastly outnumbered.  The girl got to her feet, picked up her last throwing knife, and shoved it into her sleeve before pulling her short ninja sword and its sheath from their place tucked into her belt.  She slipped into a fighting stance behind the man and in a voice rough from disuse said,” Got your back.”

The man grunted in response but never broke his pace with the staff.  The girl used a quick draw technique involving using the sheath for added speed as she started hacking and slashing at the reaching limbs, littering the ground with putrefying hands and arms and even heads when she got lucky.  As sharp as her shinobigatana was, it was still hard work cutting through flesh and bone, even if the flesh put up little to no resistance.  The undead hordes seemed to be never-ending and the girl could not help but wonder why there were so many of them gathered in that particular area.  The largest pack she had seen up to that point was no larger than fifteen or twenty.  This was something more like fifty of sixty of them against two living warriors.  The likelihood of the two of them escaping alive was very low, even if the man’s skill level matched or exceeded hers.

The girl had always liked a challenge, though, and adrenaline was singing through her veins, making her feel invincible and fearless, adding strength and speed to the swings and jabs of her sword.  She felt the reassuring warmth and pressure of the man’s sturdy back pressed against hers and the movement of his muscles as he too bashed skulls and shattered bones.

“Only about ten left over here.  On the count of three, we switch,” the man told her in a deep, rumbling voice.

The girl was a little rankled at the demonstration of his belief in her weakness, but she also did not feel that the heat of battle was a good time to argue over gender roles.  “Osu,” she responded in Japanese, forgetting for a moment that she was not speaking to her sensei.

“One…  Two… Three,” the man said and the girl suspected he was counting heads.

They moved at the same time, whirling around each other, the girl’s black hair getting caught up in the boy’s red.  The faced each other briefly and the girl though that she had seen that the man had green eyes.  The girl also noted with some satisfaction that she had only left the young man two more zombies than he had left her.

As the new zombies came rushing toward her with arms outstretched and mouths wide open, wailing, she added her own noise to the mix.  “HAAAAIIIIIEEEEEE,” she shouted, using the battle cry to draw out the strength within her.

A benefit of her ninja sword was that it allowed her movements to be swifter than if she had used something more bulky like a katana, and she could also use the sheath as a weapon.  Her sword sliced through the air like a gleaming ray of moonlight, cutting through the shadows and the zombies.  The girl herself looked like a stray shred of darkness, whipping and whirling about like a dervish.  In what seemed like no time at all, the girl was dispatching the last of her zombies.

With a self-satisfied air, she turned around to see how the man was doing.  He was steadily working on the last zombie on his side—a large one that had once been male.  The girl watched him fight with interest.  The moonlight was finally in such a position to allow her to see that the man was in fact using a bo staff, and quite well at that.  He was in what the girl believed was known as the kokutsu dachi, or back stance, withone foot planted firmly behind him, knee bent, and the other foot extended in front of him, centering his weight over the back foot.  He waited with his staff held horizontally at a little over shoulder height with his front hand supporting the staff and his back hand loosely holding it, waiting until the zombie was within five or so feet of him before attacking.

In a movement almost too fast to be seen, the young man took a step forward and whipped the bo upward, sliding his hands down the length of it to the end and slamming it down into the zombie’s skull.  The skull split under the hard wood like a ripe melon and splattered brain matter and congealed blood.  The zombie stumbled a few more steps forward before falling to its knees and then to what was left of its face.  The man’s expression never changed once and he made no noise.  Zombies did not need to be intimidated.

He spun to face the girl and asked her,” Did any of them bite or scratch you and did you come into contact with any bodily fluids?”

“No bites or scratches.  I got some blood on me, but I don’t have any open cuts and it didn’t get into my mouth, nose, or eyes,” she responded with every bit as much efficiency.  “You?”

He shook his head.  “No injuries; no contact with bodily fluids.  We got lucky.”

“Damn straight.  How many do you think there were?  Fifty?  Sixty,” the girl asked him, making small talk in her relief.  The man did indeed have a green eye, but he also had a blue one.  It was an interesting abnormality.

“Fifty at most.  It could have been worse.  There’s a large cemetery near here, as well as what used to be a small town.  All of the rain recently has softened the ground and they’re popping up like daisies,” he responded, still with that military efficiency.

“That makes more sense.  I couldn’t figure out why there were so many of them.  I’m a wanderer, so I’m not familiar with the area.  The name’s Zillah, by the way,” the girl responded, carrying on her chatter.

He nodded.  “Kelly,” was his only response.

“Nice to meet you, Kelly,” Zillah chirped, hoping he’d stop acting so withdrawn.  She had not had a decent conversation in weeks and did not know when she would have another chance to have one again.  “So, are you from around here?”

“No.  I’m a wanderer, too,” he told her.

“Really?  There seem to be a lot more wanderers now than there used to be.  I guess it’s ‘cause none of these towns wants to have to keep a warrior around.  Scares the citizens, they say,” she mused.

“Yes,” Kelly said with little enthusiasm.

A little annoyed, Zillah said,” You have good form.  Where’d you learn to wield a bo staff like that?”

“I took martial arts lessons from an elderly Japanese man as a child.  Shinsho taught me the form and the basics of fighting and the undead have done the rest,” he said with a grimace.  “What about you?  If I’m not mistaken, your form comes from ninjutsu and you’re fighting with a shinobigatana.”

“Yep.  I’m one of the last shinobi.  My dad was from Japan and he had trained his entire life, so he taught me too.  I never thought I’d have to use it unless some creep tried to pull something on me.  Can’t say I’ve ever been more upset that I was wrong,” she told him, also grimacing after having made herself think about it.

“Aren’t we all,” Kelly said, sounding bitter.

All the while, something was slithering through the darkness, silently and stealthily.  It made slow progress, but that was all the better for it did not want to draw the attention of the two warriors.  Not yet.

“Yeah, well, like they used to say, ‘shit happens,’” Zillah said, somewhat lamely.  “Guess we’ve just gotta deal with what we can and man up about the rest.”

“I guess you’re right,” Kelly said, a little uncertainly.  He seemed distracted and cocked his head as though he were listening for something.

Zillah did not know what it was, but something was making her feel uneasy.  “Maybe we should get outta here,” she started to say, her hand moving down to touch the hilt of her shinobigatana unconsciously—a nervous habit.

“There’s another one out there,” Kelly interrupted her, glaring toward the woods.  “Prepare yourself, shinobi.”

“Osu,” Zillah responded, automatically grasping her sheath in her left hand and placing her right hand on the hilt of the sword.

As Kelly had predicted, a zombie came staggering out off the trees and stumbled toward the two warriors with its arms outstretched, its fingers clawing at the air.  Its mouth opened wide like a snake’s and it unleashed one of those unearthly howls of the constant and unholy hunger that consumed all of the undead.  Zillah leapt into action, literally, taking a running start and springing into the air.  She performed a quick flip for flair as she flew toward the zombie and she drew her sword just as she reached the point over its head.  Then, she swung the blade downward and cracked through the bone, but did not manage to destroy the brain completely or sever connection with the spinal cord.  She landed almost silently directly behind the creature and used that opportunity in which it was confused and trying to find its prey to swing her sword once more and slice cleanly through its neck.

Kelly came up behind her and smashed the skull for good measure.  “Not bad,” he told her, the slightest of smiles twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Well what did you expect,” Zillah asked playfully, her face lighting up with pleasure at the compliment.  “There’s a reason I get hired to take care of these things.”

“I suppose s—AHHHHHHH,” Kelly exclaimed, jerking his leg upward suddenly.

Zillah looked down and saw that most of the flesh on his ankle was missing and his foot was dangling at an awkward angle.  The wound was gushing blood all over the place and below the crimson fountain was a very self-satisfied-looking zombie.  She was little more than a torso and had been a child at the time of her death.  She still had a tattered, gore encrusted pink ribbon in her brown hair and might have passed for a human if it were not for the blood covering her mouth and the fact that she was cut in half and was still able to function.  Zillah flicked her wrist and her throwing knife was buried up to the hilt in the child’s left eyeball and the creature had gone still.  She turned her attention back to Kelly.

He had collapsed to the ground and was already starting to look very pale.  He was reaching around inside his jacket, searching.  Zillah saw a look of relief cross his face as he grasped something, presumably what he was looking for.

“Shinobi,” he gasped.  “I request your aid.”

“Please, call me Zillah.  I’ll do whatever you need me to,” she responded, dropping to her knees in front of him.

He pulled out a dagger and said,” I have been dishonored.  The enemy defeated me and I’m going die and become one of them.  I want to die upon my own terms and regain my honor.  Will you be my kaishakunin?”

“Wait, what?!  You mean to commit seppuku?  And you want me to be your second,” Zillah exclaimed, blanching at the thought of helping him kill himself.  “Oh, no, no, no!  Not gonna happen!”

“Please.  It’s the only way I can regain my honor,” he pleaded.  “I don’t want to be one of them.”

Zillah cleared her mind of all thoughts and took a deep breath. Smooth stone under still water.  Smooth stone under still water…  “Alright.  I will help you fulfill your dying wish.  I will be your second,” she told him, setting her jaw and gazing straight ahead with steely eyes.

“Domo arigato gozaimasu,” he said, bowing very deeply in the dogeza stance.

”No.  Don’t thank me.  Just tell me when you’re ready,” she said, all seriousness now.

Kelly nodded and tightened his grip on the dagger.  He took off his jacket and his shirt, revealing a rock-hard abdomen.  He turned the blade toward himself and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.  Then, he opened his eyes and plunged the dagger deep into his stomach and sliced horizontally.  Blood and internal organs spilled out of the opening and Kelly grimaced but made no sound as his life flowed out onto the ground.  He dropped the dagger and doubled over, pushing his hair off of his neck.

“Now,” he choked out.

Zillah steeled herself and drew her shinobigatana.  “May you find peace in the afterlife, Kelly,” she said as she swung the sword downward, hard and fast.  She forced the blade down, between two vertebrae, and sliced through sinew and flesh.  After what seemed like ages but in reality was only about a second, his head disconnected from his body and rolled a foot or two away, coming to rest with the face toward Zillah.  There was a look of peace in his multihued eyes.  Zillah walked over and closed the lids over the staring eyes and carried the head back to its body.  Blood was spraying from the stump of Kelly’s neck, the last of the pressure built up by his heart being released.  The blood fell down like rain over Zillah’s head and shoulders and hands.  She ignored the warm liquid and slipped her arm around Kelly’s shoulders, gently lowering his body to the ground.  She placed his head on his stomach and folded his hands around it.  Blood ran down her face in little trickles, like tears, dripping down to her mouth.  Slowly, she ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the iron and forcing her mind to hold the memory of Kelly’s face.

“Goodbye, ronin,” she murmured, picking up his bo staff.

The sun was just beginning to rise as she turned to walk away.  The light painted the world in shades of red and orange, just like the color of Kelly’s hair.  Zillah was nothing more than a black stain on the blood-red world.  The wind rustled the dead branches of the trees and she almost thought she could hear a whispering voice.

“Thank you,” it said.

Halloween Nail Art!

Konichiwa!  I'm back with more Halloween stuff for you guys!  I've decided to try out new Halloween nail art ideas and this one turned out pretty well, so I figured I'd share it.  Last week I did jack 'o lanterns, but it didn't turn out like I wanted it to because I did it in a rush, so I didn't take any pictures.  This week, it's candy corn because, well, I love candy corn!  Unfortunately, I set my colors out in the wrong order and I didn't notice until I had a whole hand done, so I just left them out of order.  I've seen candy corn in this order before anyway, so I'm not overly worried about it.  It just messes with my OCD... (>_<)
                                                                     
As usual, sorry about the small size.  I can't seem to ever make BlogSpot work properly for me!!!  You basically get the idea, though.  Also, I apologize if my grammar or spelling is bad today.  We had an assignment for AP Spanish in which we weren't permitted to speak in English for twenty-four hours, so I've been speaking and thinking in Spanish all day and English feels weird now!
Well, that's all I've got for today.  I'm probably going to do a few more nail art posts and a few food posts before this month is over with, and I'm working on a second installment of my fanfic, as well as maybe some other sort of gothic stories that I'll post before the end of the month.  If you're enjoying this, then you can look forward to it, and if you're not, then you probably won't want to visit the ROAD TO WOMANHOOD (I was shouting it...) until after either 31 October or maybe even 2 November, just to be safe!
I'll catch you guys later and remember to keep on rockin' and rollin'!
- Turtle-chan

Scary Story Time! - Foul is Fair (Installment 1)

Yo, reader-sans!  So since it is the best month ever and also the month of things to scare your socks off, I thought I'd so some scary story posts.  This is something I'm currently writing and it's a little frightening, but not really that scary.  I guess it's more disturbing than anything, really.  Anyhow, it's technically a fan fiction (not one of those Seven Minutes in Heaven type deals  >_<) about some of the serial killer creepypastas.  If you've never read any creepypastas and you like scary things, you should.  You'll have nightmares for DAYS!  Anyway, enough of my rambling.  Here's the first installment of my story "Foul is Fair."  Constructive criticism would be much appreciated! (^_^)


- Turtle-chan

                The closet door is closed and there is no light except for what leaks through the crack in the door from the hallway and the moonlight outside.  You can hear muffled voices carrying from down the hall, but you can’t quite catch the words.  The sound of your ragged breathing crashes down on your eardrums.  Most of the voices you hear are deeper—men’s voices—a couple are higher—women or children—and one is like a whisper or a tickling in the back of your mind.

                You huddle back into the corner of the closet, curled up into yourself, unable to scream, unable to move, barely able to breathe.  You feel your heart hammering against your ribcage and you distantly wonder how it hasn’t beaten its way out of your chest and onto the floor yet.

                You notice a little too late that the talking has stopped and there is a shadow obstructing the light coming under the door.  The sound of static fills your head and you shake it, as though you’re trying to dislodge water from your ears.  The door slowly begins to creak its way open, but you can’t hear anything and you can’t breathe.

                Something tall and roughly man-shaped looms in the doorway, towering over you with a broad-bladed kitchen knife in hand.  You freeze in place and will yourself to disappear.  It doesn’t work.  The creature bends down to your level and holds up the knife.  The moonlight streaming through the open window is just bright enough that you can see its split-open smile and bugging eyes.

                “Go to sleep!” the creature exclaims, its grin broadening painfully.

                The last thing you remember before fainting is seeing a group of silent figures standing behind the creature, watching.

~~~

                You wake up to find yourself staring up at a dark ceiling.  The room is dark, but cold moonlight seems to be coming through a window.  You try to sit up but are unable to and the movement makes your shoulders feel like they are going to pop out of their sockets.  You realize that you are tied to a bed of some sort.  Your chest and legs are also strapped down.  You take a deep breath in and are immediately assaulted by the stench of bleach and antiseptic.  Hospital.

                You shudder.  Hospitals have never really been your thing.   Instead of freaking out like you want to, however, you focus on taking deep breaths and clearing your head.  In the midst of your efforts, you hear a door open and, involuntarily, your body goes tense.  You force yourself to go limp and close your eyes, pretending to be asleep.  You feel large cold hands on your wrists and the bonds loosen.  You open your eyes.

                A male figure with either dark brown or black hair—it’s hard to say in the semi-darkness—bends over you, untying your bonds, but not removing the chest and leg restraints.  He is wearing a sweatshirt that looks like it is blue, but you can’t see his face.

                “I told them it’s not safe to tie someone up like this.  What if they did muscle or nerve damage?  And did they even think about dislocations?” the boy muttered, massaging some feeling back into your wrists with icy hands.

                “U-um… Thank you,” you say, a little worried about what will happen now that you’ve spoken to him.

                “Ah, you’re awake.  Perfect timing.  Would you mind moving your fingers one at a time for me,” he says, gently lowering your arms to your sides but not releasing your wrists.

                You do as he says, moving each finger one by one, wincing at the pins and needles you feel now that the blood is starting to flow in your hands again.

                “Good.  It looks like you’re still in good shape,” he tells you, sounding pleased.  You notice for the first time that his voice sounds slightly muffled, as though he had something covering his face.

                “Thank you for untying me,” you repeat, not sure what else to say.

                The guy releases your wrists and your hands lay at your sides.  “Not at all,” he says, turning away and busying himself with something beside you.  “I didn’t want those guys to ruin your body before I could run a few tests on you.”

                “Wait, am I sick?  You’re a doctor, right?” You ask him, wondering why you’d be in a hospital otherwise.

                “Well, I think the answer to both of your questions is technically ‘no,’” he says and he seems to be laughing.  “I’m certainly not a doctor in the conventional sense of the word, at least.”

                “Then why am I here?” you ask him, starting to worry.  You look up and try to read his expression.

                “Easy,” he says.  “You’re our victim!”

                You find his face in the dark and gasp in shock.  He wears a blue mask with no facial features except for eyeholes, but behind the holes there is nothing but blackness.  A strange, thick black goo oozes out of the holes and slides down the cheeks of the mask like tears.  You feel a needle pierce your arm and soon you fall unconscious again.

~~~

The next time you wake up, you feel an aching in your side and your hands are strapped to your sides.  There is a heavy weight on your chest and you open your eyes to find yourself staring into a pair of lidless black eyes.

You blink and the entire face comes into focus.  It looks male-ish, with a square jaw and seemingly flat chest.  It has roughly shoulder-length black hair and leathery skin so pale that it looks as though there is no blood left in its body, even though there is blood on its cheeks from the deep gashes cut to look like a smile.  The creature is straddling you, sitting on your stomach and pinning you down.  It is heavy and breathing is difficult.  It brings one large hand up and clasps it over your mouth before leaning over you, its hair surrounding you like a curtain.  Its slit-wide smile gets even wider and its lidless eyes gleam with malice.  It raises a large knife from the bed and caresses your cheek with it.

You feel your eyes go wide open and you can’t help but flinch, your heart rate skyrocketing.  The creature seems to notice your fear and it chuckles.  “Don’t worry, this will only hurt for a second,” it says in a deep, rough voice.

This isn’t overly comforting to you, but before you get a chance to protest, it begins to cut into your cheeks.  You feel hot liquid streaking down your face and into your hair, drenching the sheets you lay on.  The creature laughs and cackles as it works and it moves to slit your throat.

“GO.  TO.  SLEEP!” it roars.

Before it can make the final cut, the sound of static fills the air and in the back of your mind, you hear a whispery voice say,” Jeff!  Release the child this instant!”

The creature, Jeff, glowers, somehow, but climbs off of your chest and walks toward the door.

“Whatever, Slendy.  She was no fun anyway,” he growls.

“I am the Slender Man.  You would do well to remember that, Jeffry,” the whispering voice says in a warning tone.

You glance over at the doorway, trying to ignore the pain and the bleeding.  There are two figures at the door.  One is very tall and very thin with four… six… eight arms?  The other is the guy who untied you earlier.

“Eyeless Jack, would you tend to the lady, please?” the whispering voice requests.  The guy nods, moving forward into the room.  “My apologies, child.  Jeffry is not known for thinking before he takes action.  Eyeless Jack shall tend to your wounds, however.  Get well,” the whispering voice tells you.

The tall man, the Slender Man, leaves the room and the static sounds subside.  Eyeless Jack begins to sterilize his instruments.

“Just relax,” he tells you.  “Don’t try to speak.  You’re losing too much blood for me to have time to put you under and I don’t usually keep any local anesthetics around, so you’ll just have to bear with it, I’m afraid.”

He pulls out what looks like rubbing alcohol, a curved needle, and thin black thread.  He also has a large amount of gauze.  You feel afraid and the pain and blood loss are making you dizzy.  He washes his hands and snaps on a pair of surgical gloves.

“I’m going to start now,” he tells you in his soft, muffled voice.  “If the pain gets to be too much, I want you to touch my arm and I’ll give you something to bite down on so you don’t bite off your own tongue.”

You feel yourself trembling, but you’re not sure if it’s out of fear of the pain or fear of the man.  He bends over your head and begins to work.  The curved needle—a suture, you believe it’s called—dips in and out of your flesh.  It hurts, but you marvel at the speed and efficiency with which his hands move.  His mask hovers over you and you almost feel like you can see a line of concentration between where the eyebrows should be and a slight squint to the eyeholes.  But, of course, that’s not possible because the mask is made of hard plastic and it cannot move or bend with the wearer’s face.

You breathe a sigh of relief as Eyeless Jack cuts off the excess thread, but then you remember that he still has to mend the other cheek.  He dabs at the open wound with gauze soaked in alcohol and you wince.

“Are you alright,” he asks, leaning over your face, the empty holes in his mask seeming to stare straight into you.

You nod, putting on an apologetic expression and hoping that he gets the idea.

“Remember to let me know if you need something to bite down on,” he says, turning back to his work.

You clench your fists and wait as he makes stitch after stitch in your skin.  This side seems to take longer and by the time he finishes, there are rosy rays of early morning sunlight filtering into the room.

“That should do it,” he says, stepping back and washing his hands and equipment.  “You’re probably not going to want to move that mouth too much for a little while and I’m going to have to keep monitoring you to make sure the blood loss didn’t affect anything, but other than that, you’re good to go.

“Thanks.  Again,” you whisper, wincing at the tug of the stitches.

“No problem.  It’s good practice.  Maybe next time you should stay away from Jeff, though.  He’s one of the worst of us.  Then again, I guess we’re all pretty bad,” he says, chuckling darkly.

You’re curious as to what he means, but you’re afraid to ask.  You watch him from the bed as he puts all of his equipment away neatly.  He’s pretty strange, but you don’t think he’s that bad.  And the Slender Man was very polite.  The only really abominable one was that Jeff guy.

You’re startled out of your thoughts when Eyeless Jack comes over to your bed and lifts back your shirt.  You gasp in surprise and try to pull it back down—no small feat when your hands are bound.

“Don’t worry, I’m just checking to make sure the stitches all held,” he tells you, seeming to look at something near your hip.

“Stitches?” you croak.

“From where I removed your kidney last night.  It was delicious!” he tells you and you can hear a smile in his voice.  You don’t like it one bit.  You feel your eyes widening in shock and fear once again.

Eyeless Jack just chuckles and moves on, hooking you up to an ECG and putting an IV in your arm.  The machine’s steady beeping should be comforting, but you find it unnerving instead.

“There’s some painkiller in your IV bag, so you’ll probably sleep it off,” he says, walking out of the room.  He looks like he’s going to leave, but then he stops in the doorway.  “You might want to be more vigilant here.  There are certain people who are skilled with technology in this house and they don’t use it for good purposes…  Sleep well.”

You wonder about what he means by not using technology for good purposes, but the room is going fuzzy and it’s hard to keep your eyes open.  As your eyelids slip closed, you vaguely notice that the beeping of the ECG sounds like someone laughing

~~~

You’re dreaming.  Somehow, you’re aware of this, but you still feel like it’s real.  You’re standing in a field that goes on for what seems like forever.  The wind blows and your hair whips around your face.  The sun is beating down, but you’re freezing cold.  You hear laughter.  Young, childish laughter.  The noise is everywhere, surrounding you.

You whip around to look behind you.  Nothing is there, but the laughing continues.  You slowly turn around again and before you is a boy who looks like he’s about thirteen or fourteen years old, dressed like Link from the Legend of Zelda.   He’s playing on a Nintendo handheld and he glances up to look at you with mischievous eyes.

“’Sup (y/n).  We’re playing a game,” he says, focusing on the game again.

“How do you know my name?” you ask him, a chill running down your spine.

“I’m in your head, aren’t I?  I know plenty about you,” he says sassily.

“Fine.  Who are you?” you ask, hoping for a better answer.

“Asking all the wrong questions,” he mutters.  Then he looks you directly in the eye.  “Look, you don’t need to know who I am.  You just need to play the game.”

The kid is irritating you by now and you decide to snap back at him.  “Oh, yeah, well then what’s the game, smart ass?”

“Ah, you’re learning.  At this rate, you may get a gold star, or even level up.  In another thousand years or so,” he quips.  “We’re going to play a game where you run for your life and I kill you.”

“Wha-?” you start to ask, but the kid cuts you off.

“Ready, set, GO!” he shouts, pixilating and then disappearing.

You stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do, looking around you for a place to hide and finding none.  Then, you hear the kid’s voice again, right behind you.  “Run!”

And you do.  You run as fast as you can legs will carry you, but the landscape never changes.  It feels like you aren’t making any progress at all.  The sun changes position in the sky, but it never gets dark.  You can also faintly hear some sort of creepy, dissonant music in the air, but you mostly ignore it.

Every time you try to stop or look behind you, a creepy statue that looks like the kid pops up.  It has this horrifying blank face with a smile that looks like a grimace.  No matter what you do, you can’t shake it and every time it pops up in your way, you hear the creepy laughing again.

Finally, when you can’t run anymore, you collapse in a heap on the ground.  Your breathing comes in gasps and your legs and lungs are on fire.  Your body feels like it’s made of jelly.

“You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you,” a voice says behind you.

You don’t even have the strength to move.  “Go away or kill me.  Just hurry up,” you gasp.

The kid laughs his creepy electronic laugh and you steel yourself for more pain, but it doesn’t come.  You hear the whispery voice again and static fills your ears.

“Ben,” the voice says.  “Ben, leave the child be.  You shall have your turn yet.  Release her for now.”

The kid grumbles,” Whatever, Slendy.  See ya later, (y/n),” he says with a smirk.

All of a sudden, you’re awake on the hospital bed, struggling against your restraints.  Several pairs of hands are on you, holding you down.  Eyeless Jack is pulling off the leads for the ECG and unhooking IV.

“I told you to be careful, (y/n),” he says quietly.

You look around at the people holding you down. One of them is wearing a white mask with big black eyes, little black eyebrows raised in shock, and kind of girlish black lips.  He has on a windbreaker in this weird kind of faded shade of yellow.  The other has on a yellowish-orange hoodie and a mask—or you hope it’s a mask at least—with big red eyes and a stitched red frown.  You stop thrashing and they slowly let you go.

“Feeling better?” one of them asks you.  You think it’s the one in the white mask because he is looking right at you while the one in the hoodie is looking at the floor.

“Kind of.  I’m sorry for making trouble for you two,” you respond.

“Don’t worry about it.  Ben has that effect on people,” the masked one says.

“Y-yeah, what M-masky said,” the hooded one adds.

“Come now, leave the child be.  I have a job for you, my proxies,” the Slender Man says.  You realize that you’ve gotten used to the static sounds by now and didn’t realize he was standing at the door.

“Yes, sir,” the masked one says.

“Y-yeah,” the one in the hoodie echoes.

“Eyeless Jack, tend to (y/n) if you would,” the Slenderman Says.

Eyeless Jack nods and closes the door behind them.  “How are you feeling,” he asks once they’ve all left.

“I’m fine.  I’d like to be able to walk around, though,” you tell him.

He looks away from you.  “It’s not safe,” he mumbles.

“Yeah?  Well I’ve been jumped three times now thanks to you, Eyeless Jack, and that’s just all that I’m aware of,” you snap, regretting it the instant the words leave your mouth.  Except for the kidney incident, he’s only helped you.

He looks up at you, his empty eye sockets dripping viscous black fluid down his mask.  “Call me E.J.,” he finally says.

“What?”

“E.J.  Everyone but Slender Man calls me E.J.  You can too,” he repeats.

“Ookaayy, E.J., why is it too dangerous to at least unstrap me?” you ask slowly and calmly.

“There are dangerous people here.  We’re all dangerous people,” he responds cryptically, looking away from you again and fiddling with a scalpel.

“But wouldn’t it be safer if I could run away from dangerous people?” you ask.  “That Ben guy got me in my sleep.  Jeff too, and even you.  With Jeff, I couldn’t do anything to defend myself.  Not even something as futile as batting him away or screaming.”

E.J. makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.  “I guess you’re right, but you have to promise me something,” he says.

You perk up.  “Sure!  What is it, E.J.?”

“You can never leave this room unless myself, Masky, or Hoodie is with you.  I would say Slender Man as well, but he is usually very busy,” he says.

“Yeah!  That’s easy!” you exclaim.

“No, you’re not taking this seriously!” he says, raising his voice.  You jump a little, surprised that he is anything less than calm and collected.  “There are very, very bad, sick people in this house.  What you’ve seen is just the tip of the iceberg.  There are very few people I would even remotely trust here” Slender Man, and by extension his proxies, Masky and Hoodie.  Toby is crazy, Jeff is a sociopath, Ben is a sadist, and the list goes on.  I’m not safe either, but I have more self control than many of the rest of us as long as I’m well rested and not hungry.  Seriously, I’m telling you to be careful.”

You let it all sink in.  “Alright.  I understand.  I’ll be careful,” you tell him soberly.

He nods.  “Hold still,” he says as he moves over to your bedside.

He leans over you to undo the leg restraints and then the chest restraints.  You can’t help but notice that he smells of soap, antiseptic, and something else musky and boyish.  His hands are big and pale, like he’s never been out in the sun before.  They work quickly and efficiently.  For a moment, he almost seems normal, like a boy you’d meet at school and maybe even befriend.

But as his hand brushes against your side, you remember that he is an unstable person who steals people’s organs and eats them.  There’s no way you could ever consider any of them human.

“There,” E.J. says  quietly, stepping away from you.

You slowly try to sit up, ignoring the pain in your side and the stiffness in your muscles.  You lower your feet to the ground and try to stand up, but you wobble and almost fall.  E.J. darts out a hand to steady you.

“I’m fine,” you tell him through clenched teeth, trying to keep yourself upright.

Jack nods but keeps his hand on your elbow.  You try to take a few steps forward and rejoice when you make it over to the tray holding E.J.’s equipment.

“You don’t have to force yourself,” E.J. tells you.

“No, I’m tired of inactivity,” you respond.

“Alright, but if I feel like you’re trying too hard, you’re going back to bed, okay?” he says.

“Fine,” you respond, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

You carry on like this until you make a full circuit around the room.  You’re about  to try to do another, but E.J. holds you back.

“(y/n), I think you’ve done enough for now.  If you wear yourself out too much, your ability to move won’t do you any good when someone comes to pay you a visit,” he says.

“But E.J.,” you begin to complain.

“No, you need to rest.  I promise either I or Masky and Hoodie will come to take you for a walk around the mansion tomorrow.  For now, just go to sleep,” he tells you firmly.

You wince at the unintentional allusion to Jeff but decide to obey.  E.J. walks you over to the hospital bed and watches as you settle in.  You can’t help but blush.  He covers you up to your chin with a blanket and tucks it in around your shoulders.  Almost as an afterthought, he reaches over and gently brushes a few stray hairs off of your forehead.

As he’s walking out the door, he leans against the doorframe and says, “Rest up.  Doctor’s orders.”  You can hear him smiling just in the way he says it.

“Goodnight, E.J.,” you say as he closes the door.  Then, you roll over on your side and notice a small window near the top of the wall.  You can’t see out of it, but it lets light in an d the room is bathed in sliver moonlight, glinting like the edge of a sharpened knife.

“Nice night,” a deep, rough voice comments.

You jump and sit up a little too fast.  Your head spins and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

“Woah, easy there.  I’m not going to hurt you tonight.  E.J. would take my kidneys and eat them if I messed up his needlework,” the voice says, chuckling.

You look up to see a dark figure leaning against the wall.  It pushes itself off the wall and moves toward you.  As it gets closer, you identify the white sweatshirt and the long black hair.  Jeff.  You feel a jolt of terror, but try to trust that he’ll keep his word.

He sits down on the edge of your bed and looks at you with his unblinking eyes, his grin widening.

“What do you want?” you ask defensively, crossing your arms.

He laughs.  “I’m just here like everyone else, checking up on you after Ben almost did what none of the rest of us could,” he responds.

“So you’re here to make fun of me, then,” you snap back.

“Nope.  I’m just here,” he responds.

“Well don’t be.  I’m trying to sleep,” you tell him, hoping being mean will drive him away.

“’Doctor’s orders,’ right?” he teases.

You blush and glare at him.  “Stalker,” you accuse.

“It comes with the territory, babe,” he responds cockily.

“Yeah, whatever,” you reply, turning away from him.

You’re both silent for several minutes and you’re beginning to wonder if he actually left and you just didn’t realize it.  Before you can turn and look, Jeff speaks up.

“Seriously, though.  Slendy asked me to keep an eye on you for E.J. so he can get some sleep and some food.  Poor dude’s exhausted,” he says quietly.

You’re surprised by his assertion and you turn to look at him again.  “What’s wrong with E.J.,” you ask, feeling irrationally embarrassed to be using his nickname so familiarly.

Jeff laughs again and you realize that the actually has a nice laugh and a nice voice in general.  “He’s been taking care of you all this time.  You’re pretty high maintenance, you know.  Dude’s tired and he hasn’t been hunting in days.  Slendy says he came to him earlier tonight to ask for someone to guard you.  Said he feels unstable and your one remaining kidney is too tempting, but he doesn’t want to let the other guys get you either.  That’s where I come in.  Slendy says he’s trying to teach me ‘responsibility’ or some shit like that,” he informs you.

“Somehow, that’s not very comforting.  E.J. said you’re a sociopath,” you respond.  “But he also said he’s not rational when he’s hungry, so I don’t think I want to risk losing my other kidney.”

“Hey, I’m here because right now I’m the safest non-proxy other than Slendy himself.  I went hunting all night last night, so I think I can make it for a few hours while you sleep.  Can you trust me for just one night?”  he asks, his face as serious as he can make it.

You look him in the eyes and see none of the usual malice for once.  You slowly nod.  “Okay.  I’ll trust you for tonight, but only for tonight.  And if you give me any reason to do otherwise, I’ll scream,” you tell him.

The grin is back.  “Fair enough!” he exclaims.  “I’ll go wait in the hall, so holler if you need me.  Or if you want me.”  He laughs again, enjoying teasing you.

You glare at him again, but lower yourself down onto the bed and pull up the blanket.  Jeff moves to leave, but pauses, staring at you.

“That’s a good look for you,” he says, brushing a leathery finger lightly over the stitches on one of your cheeks.

You blush deeply and turn away from him so he can’t see you.  “Whatever, creep,” you mumble.

Jeff laughs again, softer this time.  “Go to sleep,” he says gently.

You hear the door shut behind him and you settle into the bed with a sigh.  You know how dangerous Jeff is and E.J. said not to trust him.  Part of you refuses to trust him, but some other part of you, maybe a big part, is thrilled that he’s there, right outside your door, protecting you.  With muddled thoughts, you fall asleep and are glad when you do not dream.

~~~