The Final Journey

Eight more months. It's been hell. Total, utter, hell. I haven't said a word on my blog here, but after saying things were fine in my last post, it all went to hell in a hand-basket. Me, I’ve been trying to be mister macho man Aiden. It’s not been going too well actually.
            You see, He turned up. The good ol' faceless wonder started making his appearances again. At first it was just at the edge of the woods behind the house here. He'd stand there and watch, no interruptions. I should have fucking known better.
            We had just gotten moved back into house. The rebuild finished after the fire that burned it into a charred husk. We had spent the day moving what little had survived the fire and what little we had into the house. We had things set up. Malkin and I were just laying down to bed when He appeared in the darkness of the tiny bedroom, right in the corner by Malkin's side of the bed. Before we could so much as take a breath those slimy black tendrils were flashing about. One lashed out and grabbed Malkin by the throat and was lifting him from the bed. I did the first thing I thought of. I grabbed the wooden desk chair, charged the tall, slender abomination and bashed the shit out of him with it. Of course he didn't take kindly to it, and of course I found myself flying across the fucking room and slamming against the wall. Being that I'm a small, frail individual, my body didn't like that and I was consumed by the swirling blackness of unconsciousness.

            I'm pretty sure that I was out for hours. Mostly because it was dark when we were lying down and now there was sun coming in through the windows of the bedroom. Malkin was lying lifelessly on the bed. Of course this scared the shit out of me; he’s a pretty well built person who can handle more than most would be able to. I was in tears before I was to him, holding him and sobbing into his chest. He was splayed out on the bed which was soaked in blood. Looking him over, I saw the blood seeping through his white nightshirt, the front of it torn like it’d been clawed through. His neck was bruised from where the tendril had wrapped tightly about it, blood trickled from cuts and scrapes and by the fact his hair was matted in places with blood, I was figuring that he must have had some injuries to his scalp as well. Then I noticed the slight rise and fall of his chest. He was alive thank the Gods, unconscious but alive. I could handle the unconsciousness as long as there was the alive with it. Actually I was still crying like a baby. But at least my boyfriend was alive. Honestly, I lost it. I was so sick of the death and destruction that that eldritch abomination has caused me. Sick of the continual loss I have endured. Just... sick. I held Malkin until he came to and then we just lay there on the bed holding each other and apologizing and crying and kissing. I don't believe we ever slept. We kept tempting the idea of doing so, and then decided against it and just took turns on watch while the other would 'sleep'. This was all three months ago...

            Let this be a lesson to everyone. This is what happens when you get tangled up with the Slender Man. The Tall Man. Whatever it is you wanted to call him. It's sad. You hear a name like that and you want to just laugh your ass off. You don't think something like that can be scary. Then you get blindsided by all of this shit. Things will calm down and you'll think things are fine and better. That's the biggest mistake you can ever make. Thinking you’re safe. I've made that mistake plenty of times. I thought I was safe, and then I lost my husband. I thought it was safe, and then I lost Taben. I thought they were safe, and then I lost Branwen. Now He's back and He's after Malkin. He took Malkin. It happened a month ago. He took Malkin from me. There's something horrifying to wake up in bed alone and wonder where your boyfriend is. To go looking for him and be uncertain where he is. How worried I was that he's hurt. Worried for what you'll find. Finding the blood in the living room, seeing it trail through the kitchen. Seeing it smeared on the door leading outside. Watching as it led down the path toward the woods. I can't forget how the crimson smeared and stained and pooled on the grass, turning into a trail leading to the woods that stopped right at the tree line. I should have been horrified. I should have screamed and ran the other way. But I didn't. I didn't budge. I just stood and stared at the sight before me.

            The oak was old, probably the oldest tree in the forest here. No wonder He was always drawn to it. He's drawn to the old things that have aged and darkened with time. Things that are huge enough that dwarfs him in height. Malkin was strung up all through the tree. Blood dripped from the branches. His head run though by one of the branches, the end of it sticking out his mouth wide in horror, frozen in that last penetrating scream that he must have let out as his life bled from him. His eyes round in agony and glazed over, already paling. That told me that he must have been here a while. His torso was run through as well. The width of the base of the branch it was on splitting it so that it almost peeled in half, as the thick red-black liquid spewed from the openings. Slimy pink intestine strung through the branches like Christmas garland and his organs hung from them like ornaments.Indiscernible viscera was splotched and splattered on the ground and over the branches and trunk. The tree was decorated with my boyfriend. And I couldn't do anything about it. I didn't do anything but stand there and stare.

            How is one meant to handle these things when it's something that he's dealt with for over a year. You come to expect it. I think I knew it was coming. I think we both knew three months ago. That attack…it wasn't just a wake-up call, it was a warning. A warning to me that once again I'd lose someone I loved. A warning to Malkin and I, saying that he was going to die. I can't say we didn't make the most of it for the couple of months we had left. I wish they had had less of the abomination peaking in and more of just us though. I guess it's that whole fear thing. I guess it's not something to worry about so much anymore. Is it? I don't know.

            How am I supposed to move on? Carry on? How the hell do I just forget the horrid pas I had and move on? It doesn't seem like it should be possible. And yet here I am. Does this make me a bad person? Or does the desire to not carry on make me a bad person. The desire to get out of this nightmare as soon as possible is hard to resist. I want more and more to escape it. It's a daily battle for me anymore. I can't keep going on, I’m afraid.I'm sorry. This is too much. I can't pretend that I don't hurt. It's tearing to pieces. I need more than this.
            I'm so sorry. Please forgive me everyone. I can't keep going. I want to be on my way. I want to see them all again. I miss Brennon. I miss Taben, Ryan. Allen... the fucker took Allen. Branwen and the others, they’re gone thanks to him. And now he took Malkin. I don't want to lose anyone else... So, I'm just going to lose myself. No one needs me anymore.
            I'm sorry everyone. I'm sorry. I love you all, good luck. Brennon, I'll see you soon. Meet me under the Yggdrasil tree.