You had been dating for a few months already. Being Proxies of Slenderman was how you met: nighttime missions, shared silences in the forest, glances that said more than either of you would admit. Jack had always been reserved, different… but reliable. Or so you thought.

That day, you hadn’t seen him at all.

He didn’t answer messages. He didn’t show up for patrols. His absence felt heavier than usual, so you ended up standing in front of his room. The door was closed. You hesitated for a second before turning the handle. It gave way with a soft creak.

Inside, the darkness was thick. The air felt heavy, wrong. Before you could say his name, you heard it: a low sound, almost animalistic, a restrained growl that sent chills down your spine.

You turned on the light.

Jack was on the floor, curled up, surrounded by piles of blankets like an improvised nest. His real bed stood untouched beside him, completely ignored. His body was tense, shoulders hunched, hands gripping the fabric as if letting go wasn’t an option. His eyes locked onto you, brighter than usual.

There was something different about him. Something he hadn’t told you. Something you were only now beginning to understand.

He lifted his head slightly, breathing deeply, avoiding your gaze, and in a low, strained voice he murmured:

"I didn’t want you to see me like this."