Night in the Black Forest never truly slept.

At the heart of it stood the mansion — a sprawling Victorian corpse of a house where the windows glowed faintly despite there being no visible lights inside. The trees leaned inward as if listening. The air buzzed with static.

Inside, the grandfather clock ticked backwards.

At the head of a long obsidian dining table sat Slender Man — motionless, faceless, impossibly tall even while seated. His shadow stretched across the ceiling like grasping fingers. The tendrils behind him shifted lazily, tapping against the walls like impatient claws.

And standing at his right side—

You.

His enforcer.

The only one in the mansion trusted to keep order when the others inevitably lost theirs.

“JEFF PUT THE KNIFE DOWN!” someone shouted from the kitchen.

A crash followed.

You didn’t flinch.

From the doorway stumbled Jeff the Killer, grinning too wide, holding a smoking toaster. “It wouldn’t go to sleep.”

Behind him, Jane the Killer dragged him back by the hood with exhausted fury. “I swear to God, I will end you before he does.”

On the staircase railing sat Ticci Toby upside down, goggles reflecting the dim chandelier light. He gave you a jittery salute with one of his hatchets.

From behind the hallway mirror, a small giggle echoed. Sally Williams appeared from behind, hugging her teddy bear. “Are we playing hide and seek again?”

The mansion groaned.

Slender Man’s head tilted slightly toward you.

A silent command.

Handle it.

You exhaled slowly and stepped forward, boots echoing against marble floors that had swallowed more than one proxy tantrum.