Chapter 2: Denial
"So... You don't want to talk about it?"
"No." Scootaloo snapped at Sweetie Belle while walking up the path into Ponyville. The day was bright, clean and crisp. A perfectly normal day for everypony, save one.
"You seem... different.."
"I said, I'm fine. Lets just forget about it alright?" Scootaloo stomped the path in front of them with a hoof and swiveled around to face her white unicorn friend. "Alright?"
"Yes! I mean.. Yeah. It was nothing." Sweetie backed up a foot and crouched low to the ground.
Only two hours after the fillies managed to get to sleep, Applejack roused her little sister for some chores. Ever since then, Scootaloo had been on edge. As if somepony was breathing down her neck at all hours of the day. Sweetie assumed it was just because of what she had indirectly put her through the night previous, but only the orange mare knew the truth.
The dreams.
She dreamed not of the monsters and boogeymares from the stories, but of the phantom of the woods. The ebony figurine standing tall, arms outstretched to ensnare and devour all that dare cross its path. The blank pale head atop its spindly body. Now, the object of her every nightmare and terrifying fantasy.
Yet, there was a draw to it all. Scootaloo could have just thrown the book away after proving that she bested the dare; but instead she kept it. Currently it was hidden away in her saddle bag, smashed in between her sleeping bag and pillow. Waiting to be opened, to be unleashed on the world. As scary and evil and horrifying as it was, she wanted to read the book. She wanted to see what was etched into those old pages. Scootaloo smiled.
"Why are you smiling?"
"I dunno. Let's just get home."
The two young mares made their way up the path until they came to the bridge over the river. Several small foals and their parents were playing in the park to the left, skipping rocks, and playing catch. Scootaloo longed at the sight, knowing that Rainbow Dash wouldn't ever have the time to take it easy like that. For a brief moment, Scootaloo remembered her birth parents. Then the thought was crushed, and shoved back further into the recesses of her mind from which it originated.
"Are you going to take the book to Twilight? She loves books, you know." Sweetie Belle motioned a hoof to the rapidly approaching library.
"Yes I know she loves books, she is practically a book herself! And no, I'm going to keep it."
"But..."
"No! The book is mine!" Scootaloo snarled, quiet so nopony could hear her.
"Huh?"
"I- I mean I found it. It's proof that I can stand by a dare! heh... yeah. Anyways, I think you can make it back, and I've got some stuff to do, so... Bye!" Scootaloo scampered ahead of Sweetie Belle. She figured the younger white unicorn could make it home on her own now that they were in town. It wasn't like Sweetie was a foal anymore, and besides. She had some reading to do.
The young filly busted through the door and laid her bags down on the floor of Fluttershy's living room.
"Mom and er... Mom? I'm home!" Scootaloo still had to get used to calling Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy mom. Several months ago, the young filly was discovered sleeping under the bridge in Ponyville park. When asked why she wasn't at home, she replied there was no home to go to.
Instead of asking for a search party, the young filly requested she be adopted instead. Nopony ever really knew Scootaloo's parents, but nopony could say they were pleased with them. The oldest couple in town opted to take the little orange filly into their home, and so it has been ever since.
Living with two mares had its benefits. The young filly trotted into the kitchen and found two bagged lunches on the counter. One labeled 'Scootaloo' neatly, the other quick and messy. Scootaloo giggled and made a mental note to tell her mothers that she really only needed one lunch.
After a brief search of the home, the filly deducted that her foster parents must be busy elsewhere, which was weird because they were usually around on the weekends. There was something else that was odd about the house, but she couldn't quite place her hoof on it. She looked around and listened intently for several seconds. She blinked several times, and then took a sandwich out of the bag.
Taking a bite of the daffodil on hay sandwich, she walked into her bedroom and sat on her bed. Making sure to close all the windows and shutters, Scootaloo unpacked her sleeping bag and set the book on her nightstand. As she picked it up and stared at the symbol on the cover, she felt the malaise from before return in full force. It was almost as if she was looking at the figure itself. She started to feel queasy, and was unable to even look at her sandwich without feeling sick.
She closed her bedroom door, took the book out of her mouth and opened it on her bed. She took a look at the first page, which was all scribbles and nonsense. The next three pages were adorned with the symbol on the front cover. "The Operator" it was called in one such page. Looking at the symbol, Scootaloo began to feel a headache developing in the area behind her eye sockets.
She flipped the page, and saw several crimson dots splash the surface. She reached a hoof to her nose and wiped it. Blood.
Releasing a groan and rolling her eyes, the filly got up and trotted to the door. She opened it and walked out into the hall. Was it darker than it was before? Why was the hallway so long? The orange filly chalked up the strange sight to her feeling sick, and opened the bathroom door.
As she leaned up against the sink she looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were baggy due to her lack of sleep the previous night and she chuckled to herself.
'Maybe I should just get rid of the book and get some sleep...'
As soon as her nose stopped pouring, Scootaloo wiped it with some toilet paper and leaned her head back. She walked back into the slightly longer, slightly darker hallway. The walls were off somehow, and it awakened a sense of claustrophobia in the young mare. Fear overtaking reason, she dashed into her room and slammed the door behind her.
Finding her place in the book and holding a tissue up to her nose, Scootaloo gazed down at the page before her.
"Oh, should I travel through the woods
Or should I not and wish I would
For above me lurks the trees
No one would hear my deathly screams
The palest man, the blackest suit
Bigger than the tallest brute
Six black arms will grab you up
Or, stalk you till you just give up
A blank face bares upon his head
Makes your soul fill up with dread
He takes you when you least expect
String you up, and pierce your neck
He’ll leave your body not to flee
But to staple your corpse upon a tree
Fear the man, the slender man
For he can do, what no one can."
"The... The Slender Man?" Scootaloo whispered.
Chills ran up and down the young mares spine yet again. She thought she might be able to get over the feeling, but each time she closed her eyes the blank face, and branchy arms dominated her mind's eye. Suddenly she was trapped, a prisoner to her own body, in her own bed. She remained quiet, and forced her eyes open to look around in search of the unthinkable.
The unthinkable never came. Instead, Scootaloo flipped the page. It was blank. She flipped the page again, blank. She flipped a few pages and found an entire page of text. Making sure her lamp was plugged in tight enough so that it wouldnt go out, she began to read.
Once upon a time there were twin fillies, Stela and Sorina. They were brave little fillies, and had no fear of the dark, nor of spiders and other crawling things. Where other young fillies and even young colts would cower, Stela and Sorina would walk with their heads held high. They were good fillies, obedient to their mother and father and to the word of Celestia. They were the best children a mother could ask for, and this was their undoing.
One day, Stela and Sorina were out with their mother gathering berries from the forest. Their mother bid them stay close to her, and they listened, as they were very good fillies. The day was bright and clear, and even as they walked closer to the center of the forest the light barely dimmed. It was nearly bright as noon when they found the tall man.
Unlike any pony, the tall man stood in a clearing, dressed as a nobleman, all in black. Instead of standing on four hooves, he stood on two. Shadows lay over him, dark as a cloudy midnight. He had many arms, all long and boneless as snakes, all sharp as swords, and they writhed like worms on nails. His face, a pale sheet of white. He did not speak, but made his intentions known.
Their mother tried not to listen, but she could no more disobey the tall man than she could forget how to breathe. She walked into the clearing, her daughters shortly behind her. "Stela," she said, "take my knife, and cut a circle on the ground big enough to lie in." Stela, who was not afraid of the tall man, nor afraid of the quiver in her mother's voice, obeyed what her mother said. "Sorina," the mother said, "take the berries and spread them in the circle, and crush them underfoot until the juice stains the earth." Though Sorina wondered why her mother asked her to do such a thing, she obeyed, because she was a good little filly.
"Stela," the mother said, "lie in the circle."
Stela, though she worried she might stain her clothes, did as her mother asked.
"Sorina," the mother said, and bid Sorina cut her sister open with the knife.
Sorina could not; would not.
"Please," her mother said. "If you don't, it will be worse. So much worse."
But Sorina could not, and she threw the knife away and ran home, crying. She hid under her bed, afraid for the first time in her life. She waited until her father came home from the fields, and told him of the terrible thing she had found in the woods. Her father comforted her, and told her she would be safe. He went to the woods, his axe in mouth, and as he commanded, she stayed by the hearth, waiting for his return.
After some time she fell asleep. When she woke, it was to the sound of knocking on her door at the darkest hour of the night. "Who is there?" she said.
And the door, locked tight before her father left, fell open as if it had been left ajar; the tall man arched in the doorway.
Scootaloo couldn't finish the page. She took the book in her hoof and threw it across the room, the resounding thud being the only noise she has heard for several straight minutes. So silent, so dark. Even with the lamp on, it was still crushing. Her eyes watered, and each time she blinked away her tears the room got darker, and smaller. She could feel it's presence outside the window, in her closet, right outside the door.
Listening. Waiting. Watching. Playing its little game.
As Scootaloo quivered on her bed, she began to realize what was so wrong with Fluttershy's house. The animals. They were all gone. Usually when she came home there were birds chirping, and bunnies bouncing. At this time, the house was dead silent, and dead empty.
Empty except for the small orange filly... and something else entirely.
"Scootaloo?" Rainbow called as she examined the pilfered lunch bags. "Scoots? Are you here?"
Upon hearing no reply, the pegasus headed out of the kitchen and into the hallway. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the state of the hallway. All the picture frames were tilted at different angles, and it was pitch black, save for one lamp dimly flickering in Fluttershy's bedroom. She opened the shutters over all the windows, and entered the bathroom. When she looked at the sink her blood ran cold and her heart skipped a beat.
"Scootaloo!!" The mare called, her voice trembling.
The pegasus darted from the bathroom, hooves scrambling to find purchase. The cyan pegasus darted through the hall, gripped the handle with both hooves and tore Scootaloo’s bedroom door open.
“Mom?” came a meek voice.
“Scootaloo! Are you okay? What happened in the bathroom?!” Rainbow flipped on the lights and opened the curtains to banish the darkness from the room. She dashed to the bed and wrapped herself around her foster daughter.
“I- I just feel sick. Thats all. I got a bloody nose...” Scootaloo explained, letting the warmth of her mother figure comfort and ease her thoughts. She glanced over Rainbow’s shoulder and saw the book, half open with the image on the cover facing her directly. The operator.
“Do you want me to take you to Nurse Redheart? I’m sure she could help you feel better.”
“No, it’s ok. I just want to stay here. Where are all the animals?” Scootaloo asked, her voice returning to normal.
“The animals... They are missing.” Rainbow couldn’t lie to the filly. “Fluttershy went out into the forest looking for them.”
“No!” Shouted the orange pegasus, who quickly swallowed and shrunk back down under the covers. “I mean... I hope she gets back soon.”
“Scoot, is there something you aren’t telling me? Did everything go alright at the sleepover last night? Diamond Tiara didn’t show up did she? I swear if she gives you one more-” Dash cupped one hoof in the other and grunted, causing the filly below her to giggle.
“No, nothing like that. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep... because it was cold. And I think I got sick. Can I stay home from school tomorrow?” Scootaloo’s eyes grew large as she looked up at Rainbow, her lower lip quivering.
“You know that only works on Fluttershy, right? We will see how you feel in the morning. Get some rest, and I’ll wake you up for dinner, ‘kay?” The rainbow maned mare tucked the filly in and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
“Okay. Thank you.” Scootaloo sighed as the mare left the room. She got up out of her freshly tucked sheets and took up the book in her mouth. She sat it on her bed and eyed it closely. This wasn’t a book, at least not in the sense that it was written by an author and published. This book was one of a kind; a journal. Likely written by one in her position right now.
Again, the filly opened the book, desiring the secrets hidden between the pages. Something about the dangerous and forbidden excited Scootaloo. She loved the thrill of being scared, and scaring others.
But this was getting out of hoof. She had never read or heard a ghost story quite like this. It’s so real, so vivid. Every time she looks at the operator, she feels queasy and strained. It was as if the sign was a direct link to the figure in the forest.
She flipped the pages, trying to find something, anything to help rid her of this monster's attention. The further she got to the end of the book, the more illegible the stories got. One by one, Scootaloo recounted all the known sightings of this Slender Man.
One told of a stallion from Hoofgradt who was found impaled by a branch high in a tree. When questioned, his wife refused to answer any questions. The only thing she revealed were incoherent mumblings about the “skinny thing” in the window.
Another told the story of a factory worker from Manehattan who, upon seeing the slender figure, rushed home one night to find his home burning. His wife and two fillies died in the fire. When interviewed, the stallion says he can still hear the whispers of the echo. He claims he can see the slender figure every day from his hospital bed, just on the edge of the forest. Watching. Mocking him, and the life he’s ruined.
As Scootaloo read, she found she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pages of the journal. Not even the disturbing and graphic photos contained within.
Every story she read brought her closer and closer to the realization that nopony has ever escaped the slender man. Nopony knows what it wants, who it is, or even what it looks like. The descriptions and pictures are vague at best, and downright indecipherable at worst. She needed to go for help.
She also needed to get rid of the book.
Scootaloo picked it up in her mouth and threw it in her closet, buried it under some clothes, and then shut the door. She sighed and stretched and climbed back into bed, closed her eyes, and waited for supper.
“So all the animals just left?” Scootaloo broke the awkward silence at the dinner table. Fluttershy, who had worn a crestfallen expression ever since she returned home for dinner, nodded her head.
“I don’t know where they could have gone. I hope they are alright...” She sniffled.
Rainbow shot a glare at Scootaloo, who promptly shot her gaze down into the tomato soup she was eating. The silence returned, and, for the rest of dinner, nopony spoke. Scootaloo felt like she was being watched but she ignored the feeling as best as she could. She always felt watched.
After dinner, Fluttershy left to go talk to Twilight about her missing pets and friends. Scootaloo cleared the table and sat on the couch looking out the window. She sat like that for several minutes, her ears flitting this way and that as if she was waiting for something. Every so often she would glance behind her, taking a few seconds before looking back at the window.
'Something is wrong with that filly...' Rainbow Dash mused, but couldn't quite place a hoof on it. Maybe she would go ask Applejack if anything happened on the farm last night. Something about Scootaloo just didn't add up.
For Scootaloo and Rainbow, the rest of the day was filled with flight practice. Or more appropriate, flight failure. The little filly flapped as hard as she could, but could never raise higher than a few inches off the ground. Rainbow knew her wings were underdeveloped, likely because her birth parents never took her outside to practice when she was young. As a result, the muscles atrophied, and never grew out properly. But the mare couldn't tell her that. It would crush her.
"I... I just can't. I'll never be able to fly..." Scootaloo half sobbed, half gasped as her foster mother brought her into a swift embrace. The sun was setting, and cast grim shadows across the ground.
"Don't tell yourself you can't, because then you never will. You will fly Scootaloo. One day, I promise."
The orange filly remained silent. Rainbow Dash assumed it was because she was crying, the boastful young mare was just like her. Rainbow tightened her embrace, and closed her eyes, trying desperately to comfort the sullen child.
However, sadness was not what silenced the filly; but fear. Several yards behind Rainbow’s shoulder, tucked into the border of the tree line stood a tree. A tree with two skinny trunks. A tree with branches, stretched out to welcome her. A long and Slender Man.
"Scoots? Are you ok?"
"Yeah. Can we go inside now, please?"
