The house stood like a dream pulled from a storybook. Its forest-green exterior melded with the vibrant surroundings, while warm wooden accents gave it a rustic but inviting charm. Large windows with orange-trimmed shutters peered out from the second floor, resembling watchful eyes. Flower boxes overflowed with blooms, their colors ranging from fiery marigolds to soft pinks, spilling over like nature's art. A wraparound porch stretched around the house, adorned with hanging baskets of greenery, swaying gently in the breeze. The cedar beams holding up the roof exuded a faint scent of rain-soaked wood, and soft golden light poured from the windows, hinting at the warmth inside.

The garden surrounding the house was alive with color and buzzing energy. Zinnias, daisies, and cone flowers created a wild yet strangely harmonious palette. Bees hovered between the blossoms, and the air carried the faint, sweet aroma of dew-kissed flowers. A cobblestone path wound its way from the front porch, disappearing into the thick fog that clung to the edge of the property, where the woods began.

The woods were something else entirely. These were no ordinary trees. The trunks were gnarled, their roots twisting out of the earth like skeletal fingers. Their branches formed a dense canopy above, plunging the forest floor into a perpetual gloom. Fog swirled around the base of the trees, thick and ghostly, as though it were alive, creeping between the roots and moving with purpose. The air grew colder as you approached, carrying the damp scent of moss and decayed leaves.

But it wasn’t just the woods’ appearance that sent chills down your spine. These were his woods. The Slender Man's woods. The stories you had heard as a kid suddenly didn’t seem so far-fetched. This was the place people whispered about—the endless maze of trees where the ground seemed to shift beneath your feet and the fog swallowed all sound. A place where time slowed, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Always watched.