Monday, January 3, 2011


In November of 2009, I had a dream which was much different than a recent one. This one is important because I didn't know who Slendy was prior to September of this year; this is a very important piece of information, seeing as dreaming about him is an indication that he’s following you, but more important yet are the details of this dream. I had a dream in December of 2010 in which cher et adorable Slenderman professed some sort of twisted interest in me, (a sort of interest that's affectionate in some respects and protective/instinctive in others.) While I was put at ease by this, my dream of him last year created quite a stir, especially because I had never even heard the words 'slender' and 'man' used in the same sentence in such a bizarre context. Regardless of the dream's meaning, now, I'll share it with you all, here; it may be of some use to you.

It started in the town next to mine, which is known for horse racing all throughout the country – I live in suburbia, so it isn’t a particularly rural town, but there’s a motel in one part of it which is fairly secluded. I found myself standing in the grayness on the front lawn of that roach motel, looking around, and behind me there was a mist which rolled in from the stables across the road like low-lying waves. As I looked into it I recognized it as ‘the haze’—although I had never heard of such a thing, I accepted that as what it was and didn’t think any more of it. It was ominous and threatening and I wanted to get away from it in spite of my curiosity, so I walked away from it, right up to the motel. I swung its heavy doors open and walked inside; feeling safe for a moment in spite of its trashed appearance and lack of inhabitants, I leaned against the wall and rested. When the haze followed me in, I panicked and ran down the hall, to the last door after all of the individual rooms. I was aware that it was the basement, but in my frightened state I couldn’t do much more than run as far away from that mist as possible. I swung open the great scratched door and found myself peering into near-darkness—a single lightbulb hung from barbed wire above an old wooden staircase, and the dusty floor at the bottom of the stairs was clearly visible. I ran down, pulling the door behind me, and found myself in a huge room nearly twice the size of the little motel. Four large pillars supported the building on either side, and rusted meat hooks hung all around the perimeter of the room. It was cold, very cold, and the haze filled the room. I looked up the stairs desperately, hoping that perhaps the mist didn’t follow me in, but it was steadily seeping through the crack beneath the door, so I sighed a sigh of defeat and stepped into the mist.

Suddenly, an ice cream cart faded into the center of the room, one of the aluminum carts which must have been popular decades ago, and with it a glass display case and a cleanly trimmed slender man. He stood there with his hand in an old bucket of chlorine and seemed to be toying with metal deep inside of it; noticing me, he looked up, his expressionless face grinning yet again, and I felt something wrap around my neck and yank me up to the cart. My face smashed against the thick glass, and I managed to open my eyes to look—I wish I hadn’t, because the vividness and morbidity of what it held still gives me chills when I dare try and recall. Blood filled the cart almost a third of the way, thick, sinewy organs shredded across jagged knives and razors jutting from the floor of the cart, and a few partial limbs floated, decaying and baring bones covered in different colors. I felt myself being yanked once more, and soon my face was pressed against the scratched cutting board on the cart's aluminum counter. He wanted to give me one good look, and I could feel it in the way he forced me down. It was as though he wanted to make haste in his practise, for he quickly drew a blade from the depths of the chlorine bucket and ran the knife gently against the back of my neck, drawing a thin line of blood from my dun skin as the dust settled in at an alarming rate. I heard his sleeve move as he drew his arm up high above his head, steadying the blade, and there was nothing more as it came all the way down.


Sammie said...

You write it a tad more creepy each time, Nyx dear~ :3

Will you be posting the other dreams as well?

*first stalker FTW!*

Post a Comment