Coming Clean


I’ve been putting this off, but I can’t do so forever.  It’s time to talk.  No advice, no musings…just me and whoever’s reading this.

Let me introduce myself.  Hi.  I’m Henry.

I’m sure you’ve got a few questions, and I can guess at them some.  First question you probably have: Who are you, and why are you posting on this blog?

Well, there’s a pretty simple answer to that.  It’s my blog.

And now that raises another question: Why are you spitting on the memory of this dead guy by rewriting his blog?

I’m not.  See, that was me, too.  Henry’s my name.  Not my handle.  Not my persona.  Not my mask.  If you look for it, you can see that I’m the same guy, down to the quirks no one notices.  My manually naming untitled posts “Untitled” because leaving the title space blank annoys me.  The extra space I put between the title and the body text, just because I think the spacing looks better.  If you look for it, you’ll see that I’m telling the truth.  Either that, or I’m just an obsessive fan, and—let’s be honest here—no one would obsess over me.

There are questions I’m sure you have that I won’t answer yet.  Things I’m not ready to say.  How am I talking to you?  Wasn’t I supposed to be dead?  What’s going on?  Where am I?  When am I?  I think I can answer these.  I’m not sure, though, and even if I was, I wouldn’t be ready to.  See, this is…an unusual situation, and one that’s a bit hard to explain.

Some of you might still be in the dark.  Well, there was this blog.  A blog called Now I Shall Know You Again.  If you haven’t read it, you should, since it’ll help you understand this better.  But if you don’t have the time, let me provide a very quick summary: a young man trying to provide advice to keep other people alive ends up dealing with a split persona and turns to despair when a particularly close friend of his gets involved and ultimately killed—a death he feels responsible for.

Don’t see where I’m going?  Well, let me explain.  If I had to choose my favorite game, it’d probably be The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask.  It’s such an interesting concept, and it can really only be told through a video game.  Our protagonist, Link, finds himself thrust into a strange, new world called Termina, completely unprepared, and finds that he has to stop the moon from crashing into the land and destroying it entirely.  On top of that, the moon’s descent will be complete in only three days.  Fortunately, Link is able to recover the Ocarina of Time, a flute-like instrument that allows him to turn back time and restart those three days—but every time he does, all he’s done in Termina is undone.

Majora’s Mask runs on what’s called a Groundhog Day Loop.  It’s named for the Bill Murray movie, Groundhog Day, where he relives the titular day over and over, until he’s finally able to do things right.  He can’t die, he can’t change anything but himself, and by the end of the movie, he’s been around long enough to master certain skills (like playing the piano) and memorize the events of the day.  Of course, in Groundhog Day, all you see is glimpses.  In Majora’s Mask, you’re actually able to spend three days following someone around.  You can see what they do, where they go, what their schedules are like.  You live those three days over and over until you’re able to beat the game, slowly gathering the equipment to do so.

Why am I going into this?  Because Majora’s Mask was all about the sidequests, and the sidequests were all about helping people.  One thing I loved doing was making sure I did all the sidequests on the last day before beating the final boss, even if I had gotten the reward for the sidequest already, just so I could say that, this time, it was permanent.  This time, the changes wouldn’t be undone by resetting time.  In the game, you had the feeling you could make a difference.  You wanted to help these people with everything from saving a marriage to saving a farm to saving the mayor from an unpleasant argument.

Well, I want to help people.  And I fucked it up.  And then, I was given my own Groundhog Day.  My own Song of Time.  And this time, I was going to make the most of it.  Get my thoughts together.  Get Hyde under control so I could be more reliable.  Drive people further away in case I wasn’t.

But most importantly, I was going to save Girl this time.  No, not Girl.  It’s kind of rude to call her that.  Erin.  I was going to make sure Erin got out of this okay.

Well…it isn’t working.  She knows.  She knows about him.  The Slender Man.  Even though I thought I did things right, she still knows about him and still asked me about him.  She’s already started writing in a notebook like she had before.  I almost think it might be worse this time.  And I don’t know if I can save her.

I’m scared guys.  I’ll flat-out admit it.  I am fucking scared.  I think I did this wrong.  I don’t know if I’ll have to do it again.  I don’t know if I can handle it another time.  All the people I knew back then?  The few people I could almost consider friends, or at least acquaintances?  Slice, Andrew, Ava, Aimee, Ali…even Frap?  They’re all gone.  Dead.  All the people I know now?  They’re all dying, too.  Zeke and M are the only constants.  I can’t stand meeting new people again.  I can’t seeing new faces and getting invested in them and then watching them die.  It doesn’t matter if they take my advice or not.  If they don’t and they die, I couldn’t help them.  If they do and they die, that’s almost worse, because I tried to help them, but I failed.

I can’t go through that again, guys.  I can’t be some constant, watching new faces come and go just as quickly, powerless to do anything.  And above all, I can’t let Erin die again.  I can’t stand to watch her die over and over.  I don’t even have that stupid crush on her anymore holding me back.  I hope that she and her boyfriend are happy.  I just want to to be her friend, and I just want to be able to help her.

But I don’t know if I can.

I’m open to advice, but I can’t accept help.  Where I am, you can’t go.  I have to do this on my own.  But please, I know…I know that there’s almost no one out there, but that doesn’t mean that I want to do it alone.




Testimony/Jekyll’s Lessons 1: Quick Thinking


I’m sure you’re all wanting a bit of backstory. How I came to be stalked by the Slender Man in the first place. Well, I’m not going to make up some sort of crap about how I was stalked by him for ten years and that I had nightmares about him as a kid. No, when I was a kid, my nightmares were about the Big Bad Wolf knocking on my door and saying “little pig, little pig, let me come in.” Also, I know what you’re thinking and fuck you, it was terrifying when I was four.

But anyway, I’ve been involved for about a good old earth year now. My friend showed me Marble Hornets late last summer, and it scared the shit out of me in the best way possible. I’d never really seen any horror movies before, but I loved this. Of course, I had no clue what the fuck was going on (by about Entry #18, he refused to even say anything whenever I asked him what the hell was happening), but he explained the Slender Man when we finished Entry #26 (back in those days, there wasn’t a second season and we actually had to wait for a long enough time between the entries to justify the complaining). Naturally, I looked him up. Found the Something Awful thread, found the subforum on Unfiction, found the Slender Nation, found the TV Tropes Page, found EverymanHYBRID, found TribeTwelve, found the blogs.

A few months later, found myself in a world of trouble.

I heard about the Tulpa Effect, and I laughed at it a bit, even if it was a nice theory. But then, as all of this tends to do, it started feeling real—too real. It started with the dreams. Clearly just my subconscious messing with me, latching onto a new obsession. I didn’t think much of it, considering that I’d also had dreams about Megatron and the Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz (dressed, for some reason, in biker leather) showing up at my dorm and having dinner with my family (because they were there too for some reason). Started seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Again, just my subconscious messing with me. Got a cold and a terrible cough. Now, that was enough to make me suspicious. I knew it was coincidence. But I also overthink things. It’s what kept me alive. What worked for sure? What didn’t? How would I recognize his hallowed/agents/proxies/whatever? How would I avoid becoming one? How do I keep everyone around me from being dragged into this, and if someone does get dragged in, how do I keep them alive?

That’s the key to staying alive: having a plan. Wait, no, that’s actually the worst way to try staying alive. People with no plan can at least wing it when things go wrong. The key to staying alive is having plans. Plural. Multiple. Every corner, every angle, ever fucking last possibility must be covered. You’re safe because you’re on the roof? Well the Slender Man must also be safe, because he’s up there with you. Think you don’t have to worry about Revenants because they don’t exist? Tough. Reach was loyal to the Slender Man to the end, the revelation was a lie, and there’s a superpowered human ringing your doorbell. What now, chucklefuck? Laughing off Breaker and H(a)unting for having multiple Slender Men? Think fast, douchefag: there’s a whole army of them and they’re all coming after you. No matter how convinced you are that it’s not going to happen, there’s one thing you have to keep in mind: it might. And survival all depends on whether or not you keep that might in mind.

I’ll be going over some strategies in the future. Keep in mind that these are personal strategies, and therefore nothing more than good suggestions. I have one rule and one rule only: the Slender Man is unpredictable, and what works for me may not work for you. And vice versa, of course. What works for you may not work for me.

Well, I think that’s about all you need to know for right now about how I got involved in all of this. I’ll elaborate more on specific points later, but I don’t want these posts to get too long. I know how much everyone hates having to read long posts.


Now You Shall Know Me Again

I suppose that, since Jekyll has introduced himself inadequately, it is up to Yours Truly to, in addition to myself, acquaint you with him properly.

Good day.  My name is Of No Consequence, though my pseudonym is Hyde.  Jekyll’s name, incidentally, is also Of No Consequence, a fact attributable to the fact that we are, in fact, the same person.  Jekyll wishes to elaborate in a later post, so I shall leave the explanations of why this simultaneous duality and singularity exists within us to him.

So who is Jekyll?  And who is Hyde?  I, my friends, am Hyde: the amiable, polite, and (dare I be so conceited to say it?) clever half.  Jekyll, on the other hand…well, perhaps it would make more sense coming from him.

Jekyll here.  Just clarifying quickly that Hyde’s also the stupid one.  Or maybe just the one who doesn’t overthink things, which in my opinion makes him the stupid one.  I’ll analyze every angle, brainstorm every theory, and do everything that I can to keep myself (and through my advice, all of you) alive as long as possible.  Admittedly, I’m also a cocky, almost downright unlikable prick.  An “arrogant bastard of a nerd,” if you will.

And now, since I’m sure you’re obviously seeking Hyde at this point, I make my triumphant return.  I exist largely because, at times, Jekyll needs to relieve the stress of being who he is.  An deterrent to the constant pressure.  My approach is different than his.  You’ll see both approaches in time.

Now, not only is our name Of No Consequence.  We reside in the rural town of Of No Consequence, Trivial in continental America, though we are currently attending college in the more urban Undisclosed, Trivial.  We are approximately 20 years old, though a specific number shall be withheld.  Frustratingly vague, I’m sure, but I’m afraid that we cannot elaborate due to Jekyll’s rampant paranoia.

But please, don’t be a stranger because of that.  Jekyll may not trust people, but I assure you that I do.  Comment, and let us become more acquainted.  After all, despite my name, I carry no cane, and if I did, I would certainly not savagely beat you with it.


Help Me Help You Help Us All


All right, chums, let’s do this….

What’s up, everyone? I’m Jekyll. Or at least that’s my pretentious handle, because you evidently need one of those. I’m not regretting this name decision at all. Cool-sounding. Symbolic. I personally think it suits me well: a mad scientist sort who willingly embraces the concept of a complete monster before growing to regret it. Okay, so maybe it’s not a perfect symbolism, but it sounds cool. That’s enough in my book. Either way, let’s just hope our stories don’t end the same way. Because as we all know (and I’m about to be a complete douche to anyone who is ignorant enough to know nothing about literature), the monster consumes Jekyll in the end.

Whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing, though, I’m not talking about my own personal Mr. Hyde. No, I’m talking about a monster without, not a monster within. I’m talking about the Slender Man.

Yeah, you heard me. Oh, no! He said the forbidden name! Whatever shall we do? Let us all convince him to come up with his own clever moniker. Come on, guys, he’s not fucking Voldemort. What, is his name so scary now that we can’t bring ourselves to say it? And what’s up with the nicknames? Is it because of the Tulpa Effect? Believe me, if the Tulpa Effect is real, that’s hurting more than it’s helping. Let’s all call him Jack Skellington or Slim Jim instead. Now nobody’s going to be able to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas or eat a stick of jerky without thinking of him. Good job, guys. Real great going. </sarcasm>. And what’s with the Slendershit/Slenderdouche/Slenderprick/etc.? I swear, I will strangle the next person who uses that. Do you think you’re trying to be clever? Because you’re not doing too good of a job. Do you maybe think you’re a big boy, calling it names behind its back? Do you think that if you call him that, it’ll somehow make him weaker? Newsflash: it won’t. And it’s just fucking annoying.

Besides, it’s just more polite to use his real name. Or the closest thing to a real name we know. Even Eldritch Abominations have feelings, you know.

Okay, so you’ve got your nicknames for him. Maybe it’s because you’re afraid to use his name, in which case, see above. Maybe it’s because you feel like you’re “sticking it to the (Slender) Man” by giving him demeaning nicknames, in which case, see above. But maybe it’s because you’re “protecting the blind” so that someone who just happens to stumble across your blog doesn’t find out who it is and get involved. But that’s a flimsy excuse. If someone finds your blog, chances are that they already know about the Slender Man. They’re beyond saving. If he’s after them, he’ll make his move, and if he’s not, they’re lucky.

Oh, and for you poor saps who don’t know about the Slender Man but have somehow stumbled into this interconnected clusterfuck of insanity, well, sorry. But it’s too late to turn back now. Keep reading. This blog will probably save your life. For starters: he’s tall, slender (surprise!—though, surprisingly, not necessarily an actual man), dressed in a business suit, faceless (or maybe everyone just sees his face differently (or maybe he’s faceless to almost everyone now because that’s how we expect to see his face)), obsessed with killing (or maybe just abducting (or even just stalking)) children (0r maybe college-age students (or maybe both)), placing organs in plastic bags (or…not?), repelled (or attracted?) by a symbol that looks like a circle with an X through it, chaotic (or maybe neutral (or maybe even lawful) evil (or neutral (or even good?))…okay, fuck it. I have no idea what exactly the fuck the Slender Man even really is. Tall. Skinny. Business suit. Faceless (probably). And he will drive you insane with his mere presence and (eventually, probably) kill you.

But it’s okay that I don’t know. No one else does either. I think it’s because he’s constantly changing. But there are some things that always seem to remain the same. Some things you can prevent. Some ways to increase your chances of survival. Hell, M (if you’re here, I assume you’re already familiar enough with The Tutorial that I don’t even have to link it) has been on the run for over a full year now, and he’s still alive, even with his completely useless rules. Like I said, this blog will probably save your life, because I’m going to be doing what he did. Only better. Yeah, I’m a cocky, arrogant bastard. Deal with it.

See, M was sort of thrust into this unexpectedly. I was thrust into it too, and I’ll admit that I didn’t really see it coming. But I was prepared anyway. I’m what some people would call “genre savvy.” I’m the sort of person who comes up with zombie survival plans for fun. I know how to survive a horror movie. I’m pretty sure that I can survive the Slender Man.

“But Jekyll!” I hear those of you who are dead say from beyond the grave. “We thought we could, too!” Yeah, you did. But guess what? You didn’t. You’ve all screwed up somehow. Whether it’s overconfidence or not accounting for other factors or thinking that you’re somehow special, everyone’s fucked up somehow. I’ve read your blogs. I’ve learned from your mistakes. And now you can all learn from mine.

Well…that’s assuming I make any.