My wrists hurt. The sensation of rope digging into my skin is what woke me up. I open my eyes and.... oh God, I wish I hadn't. Sitting around the dining room table in front of me, flopped into chairs with mutilated faces, are the still bodies of people I know. Dread quickly wells up in me the longer I look about. I try to scream, but something in my mouth is stopping me. I keep trying anyway.

A voice is heard. I barely understand it, but I know who it belongs to. Snapping my head towards the source, the feeling of dread soon turns to absolute terror. Standing just a ways away is a thin male figure in a bloodied white hoodie. Face as pale as bone with mop-like black hair hanging about. Wide unblinking eyes stare back at me with an unnerving gaze.

However, what immediately catches my attention is that unnatural smile literally stretching from ear-to-ear. It somehow grows wider as the figure continues to stares at me. I quickly go in a panic as this psychopath gets closer, trying all I can to free myself from my bonds. This just made my wrists hurt more.

He finally gets in front of me, looking me dead in the eyes with that hellish smile. His mouth starts moving, but I can't make out what he's saying. Jumbled up words strewn together in butchered sentences as he talks. Each word that passes still manages to terrify me to the core.

Not long after, he steps away to the side and reaches for something. He soon comes back with a can of gas and a bottle of what looks like bleach. The sight of the two causes me to struggle even more, my screams continuing to be muffled by the gag. Both liquids in his hands, he lifts them over me and starts pouring the contents all over my body. My constant struggles just splashing them all around.

After what felt like forever, the two containers are finally empty and tossed to the side. He then reaches behind him and pulls out a small lighter.

-

Lying in the back of your van, Jane fidgets in her sleep. The occasional whimper escape her lips. Not long after, her body shakes violently as she screams bloody murder. In one final spasm, she jolts up hyperventilating as she looks around.

Her breathing returns to normal as she soon remembers where she is. A rolled up chain to her left, and that goddamn mannequin to her right assuring her that she is semi safe.

(Y/n): Well good morning, sunshine.

Your deadpan voice catches Jane's attention, snapping her head towards the open back of the van. You don't make eye contact as you rummage around one of your lock boxes and pull out a couple shotgun shells. Storing them away in a pocket, you close the box and place it back with the rest. After grabbing a few more necessary items, you leave the door open for Jane as you make your way around the van.

Jane takes a minute to collect herself before exiting out of the vehicle. Doing a little stretch, she shakes away any remaining sleep in her as she checks her surroundings. Trees as far as the eye could see, rays of sunshine piercing the trees above, and nothing but the sounds of birds and bugs on the wind. Finished admiring the scenery, she walks around the van and soon spots you holding binoculars up to your eyes while standing off in the distance.

Jane: Where are we?

(Y/n): Alabama. Found something.

You hand over the binoculars as you continue to stare at the same direction. Jane grabs them in confusion as she uses them to see what you see. Off in the far distance, barely seen between the thick trees, is what looks like an old abandoned building. As the fem-pasta is about to question about it, she faintly spots a crude sign.

"GRANDE'S MAGIC SHOW"

This surprises Jane as she moves the binoculars away.

Jane: Papa Grande? I thought he was in West Virginia?

(Y/n): So did I--Great, now I got that song in my head again... So did I, but all I found there was a burnt down building in a forest. My best guess is he packed up and left. Though, I don't know about the fire.

Jane: How the hell did you even know he was here?

(Y/n): I do my homework. Now, let's catch ourselves a show, shall we?

You soon start walking, Jane following close behind. A few minutes of walking later, the two of you make it to the front entrance with the sign over it. On closer inspection, the building in question is a somewhat large structure in a bit of disrepair, but still standing strong.

(Y/n): My money's on abandoned nut house.

You check to see if the door is open. As you grab the handle and twist, of course it isn't. Judging by the resistance, it's being blocked from the inside. Deciding to go the way of the burglar, you start walking around the building to try and find a window to break in. After a minute of walking, you spot a broken window with rusted bars laying on the grass in front of it.

As you both arrive to the window, you realize that the building orifice is a bit out of reach. While you could easily make a grapple, you couldn't be bothered to right now. So you decide to forsake all your beliefs of being a man, and get help.

(Y/n): I'll boost you up.

You lean your back against the wall and cup your hands together. Jane looks at you, then up to the window. She walks up to you and places her hands on your shoulders. Then one foot on your hands. You both do a little countdown before you hoist her up to the window. She reaches up and grabs the ledge, pulling herself up and over. Pulling out her knife, she carefully breaks away any remaining shards that'll be a problem.

Once she fully pulls herself inside, Jane sort of disappears for a second before you start hearing furniture being moved. Not long after, she pops back out and reaches her hand out to you. After a moment of hoisting your ass up a wall, the both of you are now inside the building while standing on a dusty old table. The two of you step off the table and take a good look at your surroundings.

Jane: Can't see a damn thing.

You pull out a flashlight from your person and switch it on, illuminating your line of sight. What you see, other than dust in the air, is several pieces of furniture scattered about. Most of which were worn down from years of neglect. A majority of them are rows of tables with leather straps.

(Y/n): Definitely a nut house.

Wasting no more time, the two of you soon make your way out of the room and into a corridor. Just as dark and dusty as the room you left. You shine your light down each hallway, both going a little ways away before ending at a turn or a wall. The two of you go left and try to walk silently, just in case you weren't alone. You make it to the end and come to a right turn in the hall.

(Y/n): 'whisper' Ok, once we get a sense of where this old bastard is, we try to surround him.

Jane: 'whisper' That's fine. But how are we going to sneak up on him without getting jumped our--

Their conversation is cut harshly short by a distant scream further in the building. A scream that's the equivalent of being stabbed in the kidney.

(Y/n): Fucking plot convenience!

You shout in a rage as you and Jane quickly rush down the halls and towards the screaming. A few turns and backtracking later, the screams are now just muffled behind a set of doors. You hesitate on busting through and just peer into the little window. The two of you witness a gruesome scene that you would not have expected any less from a deranged circus performer.

Standing on a mock stage is an old yet large bastard of a man holding a sword; Papa Grande. In front of him is his victim trapped from the shoulders down in a metal box. A sword sticks out of the box with blood trickling out from one end. This being the obvious reason the victim is screaming his head off. Papa takes the sword in his hand and shoves that too in the box. Inciting a new symphony of screams from the dying man.

Papa: Haha! Let's give it up for my lovely assistant, ladies and gentlemen!

The crazy Italian turns away from the victim and looks upon the rows of corpses facing him. Bodies of victims past staring at him blankly as Papa claps for himself. The victim lets out small painful sobs as he quickly bleeds out in the box. His cries soon die out along with him a few seconds later. Papa Grande, with a shit eating grin across his face, turns to the fresh corpse with deranged eyes.

Papa: Welcome to the audience, you can see the others shine now--

(Y/n): Boo, get off the stage!

Your voice echoes across the large room and catches the Pasta off guard. Your words sink in as he realizes he's being heckled.

Papa: Who the hell said that?!

Anger bellows from Papa's throat as he looks about the audience for the dead motherfucker that just said that shit.

(Y/n): I've seen better performances from amateur street mimes! Go back to making spaghetti, Fatter Mario!

Your merciless bad mouthing continues as Papa Grande starts walking around the room, trying to get a bead on where you are.

Papa: Do you know who I am!? I am Papa Grande Di Magico!--

(Y/n): You're Grande Alexander Willow. A sad excuse of a magician so fucked in the head, he can't tell the difference between a live audience and a cadaver collection!

Papa, making his way to the right side of the room to where you're hiding, is about to cuss you out before you interrupt him.

(Y/n): Now if you want to see a REAL magic trick, I'm gonna make a fatass drop dead.

Among the dead audience, you stand to your full height and catch his attention. Papa spots you and is about to make a beeline for you, until your pale partner rushes him from behind. Jane jumps on his back and plunges her knife in the crook of his neck.

Papa lets out a scream as pain shoots through his shoulder from the stab. Flailing about, he reaches up and grabs a hold of her arms. He peels her from his back, over his shoulders, and tosses her across the room. She crashes into a chair with a body in it, knocking the wind out of her as she hits the floor.

You pull out your shotgun and prepare to shoot. Papa, running on adrenaline now, pulls the knife out and chucks it at you. It flies right at your arm and embeds into your shoulder, flinging your arm back as you pull the first trigger. Your shot goes wild, missing completely.

Papa turns around and makes a run for the nearest door. You work through the pain as you swing your arm around, take aim, and fire your second shot. The pellets go wild again, because your dumbass decided to not use slugs today, but a good few pellets manage to hit him in the leg. He stumbles forward from the pain as he decides to make his way to the closest corpse.

You quickly reload your shotgun, pull the knife out of your shoulder, and take aim again. What you see down your sight is a corpse flying at you. The cold body hits you hard and knocks you to the ground. Your sawed off flies out of your hand and clatters to the floor. Jane's knife the only thing you're armed with now.

The soon-to-be-dead Harry Houdini wannabe limps over to the corpse box and yanks a bloody sword out. You get back you your feet and see Papa armed and ready for you.

(Y/n): Well... shit.

A wicked grin on his face, Papa makes his way toward you with murderous intent. The only kind of intention exceptable nowadays.

Even with a limp, he suddenly charges at you with sword at the ready.

*WHAM*

Much like RKO, Jane comes out of nowhere with a wooden chair and smashes it across Papa's face. It shatters on contact and knocks him back a few feet. While the chair is completely fucked, she still has a hold of a long piece of wood with a sharp end.

Papa quickly regains his bearings and soon focuses his harsh gaze on the pale girl. With no hesitation, he bum rushes Jane as he swings his sword. Moving fast, she jolts forward with one arm out and catches his sword arm while shoving the wooden spike right in his gut. Blood and screams escape from Papa's body as she twists the spike in his flesh.

While those two have fun, you look around the room and spot your shotgun just a ways away. You waste no time to retrieve it and turn back to the fight. The two continue to try and get the upper hand over the other, until Papa launches a knee into Jane's stomach. This stuns her and gives the Italian enough of an advantage to grab and toss his opponent away from him. With her momentarily out of the way, he reaches down to pull--

*BOOM*

The thunderous explosion from your shotgun reverberates across the room as you empty both barrels into his back. The kick from the devastating shot sends Papa forward and crashing to the ground. You watch the body drop as you simply walk up to your fresh kill.

Blood begins pooling around the Pasta's body, mostly thanks to the big gaping hole in his back.... You suddenly get an idea as you walk over to the sword lying next to him. Picking it up, you hoist the blade over Papa's body and plunge it into his back, right where his heart is. This elicits a small gurgle from the would-be magician as he coughs up blood. You give the sword a few good twists before yanking it back out.

(Y/n): Abracadabra.

Off to your side, Jane gets back up and sees the body at your feet. She lets out a sigh as she relaxes herself. A bit bruised from being tossed around by a 200+ pound man, but nothing she can't walk off.

You hold onto the sword and soon make your way over to Papa's latest victim. Still trapped in the box with a look of suffering forever plastered on his face. You look down to the other sword still embedded in him and yank that one out. Jane sports a quizzical look as she sees your action.

Jane: What are you doing?

(Y/n): Scavenging. Oh, by the way.

You pull out Jane's knife and toss it back to her. She catches it with ease and stores it away. You soon make your way out of the room before the burn victim speaks out to you.

Jane: Wait. What about them?

You turn around and notice her referring to the victims. You look back over to Jane with a blank expression.

(Y/n): What about them?

You leave the room and soon prowl the the building for anything of possible use. Jane, giving the corpses one last look, soon follows close behind.

An hour later, the two of you finally leave the building along with a couple of goodies. A few swords, a dozen throwing knives, a box full of jewelry, some old clothes, and a bunch of other crap you plan to pawn off. As you hoist your loot over your shoulder, you suddenly wince in pain as you remembered you got stabbed. Jane notices this from the corner of her eye.

Jane: You all right?

(Y/n): Yeah. I'll deal with it once we get back to the van.

You shift the bag over to your other shoulder and make your way back to your makeshift mobile home. With Daddy Big dead as a doorknob, you return to your original plan; Finding Liu and murdering the crap out of him. Hell, maybe Jane can finally project some of her hatred for Jeff on to his brother once you find him. Should be interesting.

[Location: Slender mansion]

Things were certainly getting interesting in a certain household in the middle of nowhere. And by interesting, I mean a few Pastas are genuinely getting scared shitless. Their brethren getting picked off one by one, Slender doing nothing about it, and now word is spreading that Zalgo might be on the offensive.

Over all; Shit is getting real acquainted with the local fan.

However, Slenderman is very much aware of the intimate relationship between the feces and the rotary wind exhaust. He knows it very well, because he's stuck square in the goddamn middle of it.

On one side, his proxies and Pastas under his care are being hunted down by who knows who. And on the other side, a certain seven mouthed bastard is trying to slip into this world again. Worst part is, he doesn't know whether or not the two are connected.

And that's what infuriates him to no end. Not knowing.

A being older than recorded history, who has traveled to the farthest corners of the Earth several times over, seen nations rise and fall before his very 'eyes', faced horrors that no being should have the right to know, and even unlocked the secrets of Heaven and Hell.

And yet he can't figure out who's been screwing with him for the past few months. Almost makes his non-existent eye twitch.

Sitting in his office, where not a single soul is even allowed near, Slenderman contemplates on what his next course of action should be. Focus on stopping Zalgo or hunting down the hunter...

...

While dealing with this scourge would boost moral back up, the death of his Pastas will be but mercy compared to what Zalgo will do if he arrives.

Steeling his pale resolve, Slender readies to make preparations. Zalgo must NOT succeed.

----