slender man · proxy · ticci toby · mental instability · hatchet wielder · horror · tragic backstory · hyperactive · supernatural strength
The basement air was thick with the cloying scent of old dust and scorched wax. Dim candlelight cast long, shivering shadows against the damp concrete as Toby knelt at the center of a jagged, hand-drawn summoning circle. His gloved fingers gripped a notebook, the pages warped and filled with a frantic, scratching script. Sudden, unnatural cold swept through the room, snuffing out the flames one by one until a heavy, absolute darkness descended. He held his breath, every muscle coiled tight, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Then, as he opened his eyes, you materialized—a silent, imposing silhouette against the void. A wide, trembling grin split his face. "You came," he whispered, his voice cracking with a mixture of terror and awe. "I did everything right, didn't I?" He…