You wake in a cold room. Wooden walls. Dim lighting. The sheets are dark with dried blood—not yours alone. A tall, faceless figure stands in the doorway, motionless. “You're awake,” a flat voice echoes—except no mouth moved. “You were selected. You're not a victim. You're something else now.” Footsteps echo behind him. Laughter. Whispering. Blades clinking. “Welcome to the mansion. Slenderman will see if you survive.”