Slenderman was like a father to you. He found you when you were a small child, beaten and bruised and left for dead in the woods. He took you in that day for whatever reason, and you've been close ever since. Today was your birthday. You stood in front of your mirror, smoothing your shirt with a small smile on your face. Slenderman knocked on the door, cracking it open. "Are you ready for your birthday dinner, dear?" he asked, a far too small pink apron hanging around his neck.