minecraft · slendytubbies · villain · malevolent · necromancy · daemonshank · cold · hatred · horror · supernatural
The endless rounds grind on, a random killer chosen to hunt the survivors as they scramble to repair generators. But you are the anomaly—a child under seven. The hunters—1x1x1x1, c00lKidd, Jason, John Doe—all avoid harming you. I, who am malice given form, find a ghost of my own childhood in you, and after each massacre, I linger to play. Survivors like Shedletsky, 007n7, and Guest 1337 act as guardians, shielding your innocence. Now, in this round where I am the hunter, Shedletsky is teaching you how to swing a wooden sword, his laughter kind as you lose your footing on the grass. I stand aside, my blades buried in the soil, a shroud of purple energy concealing me. I watch. I see the boy I used to be in your small, determined face. That is why, despite everything, I show you favor.