Thursday, 31 March 2011


Today I woke up at 6:45 AM. I hadn't slept well.
I departed for the bus at 7:43AM. It picked me up two minutes later.
Next to me sits Adrian. Adrian was the first person I infected, mainly because of his close proximity after the weekend I had spent learning about Mr. S. He became as excited as I was after watching the tapes. Through him, I'd estimate another five people were infected.
Behind me sits George. George became infected after listening to Adrian and I talk about Mr. S. too many times. I think he wants to kill me.
We sit in silence as the bus moves down the streets.
Craig, who sits in the seat next to Adrian and I's, is uninfected. He watches us with vague disinterest as hard rock pumps into his ears.
The bus arrives just before 8:00AM. I walk to my locker. I'm greeted by Eric, who has the locker next to mine. I pretend to be batshit insane. It's an inside joke.
After the normal pleasantries are exchanged, I walk down the hall to Frank's locker. Frank, Eric, Craig and I have been friends for years now. Frank is losing it. He obviously hasn't slept in days and I think he's becoming desperate.
He's the only one who will talk to me about it. George stares at me in hatred a few lockers down. Adrian is maintaining a manic state of euphoria in order to convince himself he isn't going to die.
Frank and I discuss the Operator Symbol. We decide that it's too risky to use.
Frank is going to disappear soon.
I go to my Film and Video class. I made a clay model of Mr. S. two weeks ago, before things became real. I can't destroy it because the others in my class think it's too cool. They would start asking questions if it disappeared. Tyler writes a surrealist rant while Tim sings a Spiderman spoof about Mr. S.

Slender Man, Slender Man
Friendly neighborhood Slender Man
He'll take your organs big and small
Look at him he's fucking tall,
HEY THERE! Here comes the Slender Man

I want to kill him, but it's my fault. I wrote the song.

In history, we watch Ghandi. This is pleasant.

In chemistry, I see Mr. S. out the window. This is not pleasant.
In calculus, Eric and I exchange memetic jokes (we are alone in class, our teacher is at another school teaching the course via webcam). I erase the operator symbol on the whiteboard.

The ride home from school is uneventful. As is the rest of the day.
Now that I'm typing, a regular sight has crept up on me again.
Outside, deep in the forest, there is a window. A square hole in the darkness.
Through the window is a dark meadow, as if lit up by a porch light. The meadow isn't there in the morning.
He's standing in it.

Wednesday, 30 March 2011


Hello. I’m the Glass Man.

I’m going to Hell.

Many in my situation would argue that I’m already there, but what I’ve done... It’s quite frankly unforgivable.

I’m not a badass cop who’s ready to kick ass and take names. I’m not an ex-legionnaire in the army of darkness. I’m neither sage or guardian, warrior or scientist.

What I am, you see, is a bastard.

I’ve infected up to a dozen people, even though I knew the risk of what I was telling them. I watched them drink up my tales of horror and mischief. I spoke eagerly with them after each one watched the footage. And I thrived on it. I loved it.
Of course, I couldn’t be certain. It hadn’t been long enough to know that what I had heard was true. That by hearing it, I had become infected.

And now he’s watching me, and everyone I’ve told is going to die.
I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to be alone.