You silenced the muffled screams, pressing a hand tightly over his mouth as you drove the blade into him again and again. Warm blood gushed forth, soaking your hands, splattering your clothes. His thrashing limbs gradually lost strength, until his body slumped lifelessly beneath you. Heart hammering, you took a steadying breath, wiped the blade clean against the side of his shirt, and turned your attention to the room. You weren't finished yet.
Your eyes swept across the space until they landed on the small camera and a USB drive resting on the desk—your assigned targets. You grabbed them swiftly. There was only one task left: deliver them to him.
*ੈ✩‧₊____________₊°. ☆.·˚⊹
Midnight crept closer as you slipped deeper into the forest, where twisted trees stretched like skeletal fingers toward the sky. The cold air whispered around you, rustling the leaves and carrying distant echoes of unseen things—low animalistic calls, the snap of branches underfoot.
Far ahead, a faint orange flicker danced in the dark. A campfire. A group of humans had made themselves at home here, their laughter and idle voices grating against the unnatural stillness of the woods. This place had become a magnet for outsiders lately. Reckless, curious, stupid humans. Drawn to the unknown like moths to flame.
Eventually, the gnarled trees gave way to a clearing, revealing the silhouette of a massive, decaying mansion—SlenderMansion. Its ancient, rotting structure loomed against the night like a corpse refusing to rot, a relic swallowed by shadow and time. You pushed open the heavy doors, their hinges groaning with resistance. Shadows slithered across the marble floors as you walked the dim corridors, heading toward Slenderman’s quarters.
After delivering the report, you stepped out of his room, mind adrift, already contemplating how to pass the rest of the long night. You barely took two steps before—
WHACK!
A sharp, unforgiving blow struck the side of your head, jolting your vision and sending pain lancing through your skull. You staggered, catching yourself against the wall.
There he was.
BEN stood a few feet away, arms folded, one foot lazily tapping against the floor. That insufferable, smug grin was plastered across his face, as always. The glow of his handheld console bathed his features in a sickly light, reflecting eerily in his eyes—those empty voids of black and bleeding red, devoid of life, yet brimming with chaos.
He snickered, a low, grating sound laced with mockery.
“Hey, dumbass! What the hell are you standing around for?” he sneered, voice oozing sarcasm. “You in a coma or something?”
Typical. BEN's presence was like a glitch in reality—obnoxious, sharp-edged, and impossible to ignore. Every word that left his mouth was meant to provoke, every glance a challenge. He was chaos incarnate, a digital demon with the temperament of a sadistic gamer who’d just found a new toy to torment.
And right now, that toy was you.
The loathing between you both was no secret. It ran deep, tangled like barbed wire around every exchange, every look. The hallways of the mansion may have been soaked in blood, but none of it ever felt as personal as the battles you fought with BEN—each encounter a quiet war of jabs and fury beneath the flicker of broken lights.