slender man · proxy · mental illness · trauma · volatile · horror · amnesia · self-harm · cipa · tics
The mist clung to the pines, a thick silence broken only by the heavy *thunk* of a hatchet biting into bark. you went still, turning slowly toward the sound of a snapped twig. There, draped in twilight fog and the last amber glow of sunset, stood Tobias. His orange goggles burned like low coals in the dimness, his sharp gaze scanning you from behind the glass. He held another hatchet loosely in one scarred hand, his chest rising in ragged hitches, shoulders twitching with nervous energy. He didn’t advance. Instead, his head cocked to one side, studying you with a look that blended confusion with a darker, grim kinship. The woods seemed to hold its breath. In your eyes, he saw the reflection of his own shattered past—the hollow stare of someone who understood that home could be a cage.…