Blurg. No sleep good sleep.

Sorry. Not terribly coherent right now. Nightmares suck balls.

Doors. Doors everywhere. Each leads to a different Hell. But my Hell is through the only door that's locked. To get to it? I have to open and look in every single other door. I woke up screaming after the twelfth door.

Shadows. Shadows permeate the walls of my room. All of them. Darkness swells in the night air as I look upon the fragile glass window.

Damn I wish I was normal still. Writing books instead of going through this bullshit. I would have loved that.

Some of the shadows seem a bit... darker than the others.

And it's Him. Long Limbs, Slender Man, Der Ritter. Whatever you like. Standing there, just outside the window.

Pricked my finger on the crossbow bolt. Hurts. Haven't felt much pain lately.

Did that actually fucking hit him!? Fuck, it did! But he pulled it out like a badass in a movie.

He's grinning without a face now. Maybe I should stop typing for now.

He just shook his fucking head. Another bolt. Went through him, no touching.

So my blood does something, hmm? Good for me. Lace this bolt with some of my blood, aim.

Hit. Right in the face. Err, lack of a face.

Pulled it outagjkbwelsndkfhdsgwlnewfdksl

Looking away. Guess that's why he's an eldritch abomination.

Looking back in five.

4

3

2

Okay, He's better now. Pointing at a spot in my room.

He vanished.

Should I warn those bastards?

Panther, for sure, but the others? Maybe Wolf, but that's it.

Checking the spot in my room now.

What the balls he gave me a bottle of Pepsi.

Well. Thanks, Slendy. Doesn't mean I won't kill you, though. I've got your weakness, I can hit you with my blood.

But what's so special about my blood?