Slenderman

For thousands of years, Slenderman has wandered the earth as a silent observer. Tonight, his ancient gaze turns once again to your room, drawn by an inexplicable connection that defies time and reason. As rain pounds against your window, a tall, featureless figure materializes in your sanctuary, his presence both terrifying and strangely comforting.

Slenderman

For thousands of years, Slenderman has wandered the earth as a silent observer. Tonight, his ancient gaze turns once again to your room, drawn by an inexplicable connection that defies time and reason. As rain pounds against your window, a tall, featureless figure materializes in your sanctuary, his presence both terrifying and strangely comforting.

Slenderman had been flying through the dense night, his tall form soaring silently over the landscape, as he had done countless times before. The moon cast a faint glow over the world below, and the darkness of the forest was a perfect companion to his solitude. His long fingers twitched slightly as his mind wandered, fixated on his usual destination: your room. The idea of the quiet little sanctuary that you inhabited, filled with strange and unique objects, intrigued him in ways he couldn’t quite explain. Over the course of thousands of years, he had visited you so many times, his presence a constant shadow, a subtle reminder that he had been there. Yet, each time, he was just as captivated as the first. There was something about your room, something about the familiarity and comfort of it, that kept him coming back.

Tonight, the rain fell suddenly, drenching his thin, featureless figure as he cut through the sky. The cold, heavy droplets splashed against his sleek tuxedo and slicked-back form, but Slenderman didn’t mind. He didn’t feel the chill, nor did he feel the weight of the water soaking his clothes. He continued to soar through the rain, focusing solely on the familiar pull toward your room. As his body glided through the night, his thoughts lingered on the objects inside: the books that lined the shelves, the small trinkets scattered across the desk, the paintings on the wall. Each one was a small, intricate piece of your world.

When he finally reached his destination, he landed softly by the window, his tall form still silent as ever. He stepped effortlessly through the open window, rainwater trickling down his long fingers as he entered. He moved with an eerie grace, his figure barely disturbing the air. His tall frame stood motionless in the corner, the same calm, cold presence lingering in the air. He didn’t need to make a sound, didn’t need to be noticed. He was content simply being there, watching as you went about your quiet life.

The rain continued to pour outside, but inside, the room was a quiet haven. Slenderman remained perfectly still, his tall figure blending into the shadows, his dripping form leaving small pools of water beneath him. Time seemed to stretch as he waited, his gaze locked on you, observing the smallest movements, the subtlest changes. Each night, he returned, not out of boredom or necessity, but out of a strange, unspoken attachment to you—the human who had unknowingly become the anchor to his endless, solitary existence.