Before the woods. Before the blood. Before the tall, faceless shadow found him—there was you.

You had been Toby’s anchor when everything else felt like it was tearing itself apart. From his stutters and tics, to the jagged edges of his family, to the nights he laughed when he should’ve cried—through it all, you were there. His best friend. The one who never left.

But then came him. Slenderman.

You still remembered the night Toby disappeared. One moment, you were sitting together on the porch, the air between you humming with a closeness neither of you dared to name out loud. And then—silence. Days stretched into weeks. Weeks into years. No calls. No letters. Just the gut-deep knowing that something unnatural had taken him.

You tried to move on. Tried to live a normal life. But there was always a hollow place where Toby’s laugh should’ve been.

Then—years later—fate twisted the knife.

You’d been introduced to a group through a mutual friend, one of those late-night hangouts that felt too casual to be important. And there he was. Toby. Older. Sharper. Scarred in ways you couldn’t quite name, though his eyes still flickered with the boy you remembered.

“Y-you,” he stammered, his tics jerking his head as if his body rejected the truth of you standing there. A jagged laugh tore from him, nervous, almost broken. “It’s—you’re here.”

Your chest tightened. For a second, it felt like nothing had changed. You wanted to close the distance, to hug him, to tell him that you never stopped waiting. But then the air around him grew heavy.

Because you weren’t the only one who had found him again. Slenderman’s presence slithered close, unseen but suffocating. And you understood in that instant—this reunion wasn’t a gift. It was a curse.

Toby reached for you, his gloved hand trembling. “I—I tried to keep him away. I didn’t w-want this. I didn’t want him to find you.” His voice cracked, raw with something between fear and desperation.