One by one, the proxies of the Slenderman Alliance filed into the meeting room, where Tim, Brian, and Clockwork were already waiting for them. The meeting room was in the main cabin, near the infirmary, and it looked like the typical office meeting room, except the walls and floors were made of wood. At the front of the room was a whiteboard, where Tim and Brian stood. Clockwork was already in her seat after having just been discharged from the infirmary, and she gave Eris a warm hug as she and Zero sat on either side of her.

"Thank you all for coming," Tim said. "Sorry this meeting was on such short notice, but the situation here is pretty urgent."

Immediately, Ben Drowned raised his gloved hand from where he sat at one of the two tables. A thirteen-year-old boy who had been drowned in his own bathtub, Ben had golden blonde hair, freckles, and black eyes with red pupils that streamed blood when they cried. He looked like a demonic version of Link from the Legend of Zelda video game series. They were also quite short.

Tim sighed. "Yes, Ben?" he asked.

"Before anyone says anything, how can we be sure Odessa didn't do it?" Ben demanded in an accusatory tone. He pointed to a woman at the other table.

"I know the rules, brat." Odessa snapped back. She was the oldest of the proxies - in her late forties - and walked with a limp. Her indigo eyes were dull and dead, her nose was hooked like a bird of prey, and her long, black, graying hair was constantly messy. She always wore the dirty straitjacket she had been forced to wear in the mental asylum Slenderman had helped her escape from. Nobody in the Alliance liked her, and for very good reasons.

"Yeah, from what Clockwork told us, Odessa couldn't've done it," Brian admitted. His back pain had flared up again, so he was on crutches. "Apparently, she saw a bruised-up young lady bathing in a stream when she was attacked from behind - didn't even hear footsteps."

Many of the proxies immediately exchanged perplexed looks. Rapid Fire was the first to break the silence.

"Did that bitch have a brain?" they demanded from behind their black face mask. "Did she not know what hypothermia is?" They were leaning back in their chair with their feet on the table, ankles crossed.

"Apparently, she 'didn't seem human.'" Tim explained. "Mortal or not, we're clearly not alone in this forest: someone - or something - dangerous is living here, possibly only a few miles away, without our knowledge. And for some reason, Slenderman's doing bupkis to interfere."

The air immediately became tense.

"But how could that be?" piped up Wilson the Basher. "I mean, our territory's pretty damn big."

"Easy: th-they're good at hi-hi-hiding themselves." quipped Ticci Toby, Clockwork's frenemy, who had a bad stuttering problem.

"D'you think they know about us?" asked Harbinger, a Filipino man who almost never socialized with the rest of the proxies unless he had to. "Like . . . us as a whole?"

A tense silence fell over the room. At last, Brian took a deep breath and clapped once to get everyone's attention.

"Thank you, Brian." Tim said. "Alright, here's what we'll do: for now, nobody here who's human/still alive goes on a patrol or mission alone - go in at least pairs. If you wanna go for a stroll, also don't go alone. Any suspicious activity is to be reported immediately. Everyone got it?"

There were murmurs of "yes, sir," "okay," and "ugh, fine" all around. With that, the meeting was adjourned, and most of the proxies were free to go back home to their cabins while Engine and X-Virus were told to go out on patrol together. As Jeff the Killer and S.O.S. made their way back to theirs, a conversation was started.

"Maybe it was Zalgo who was behind this?" Jeff suggested.

"Probably not," S.O.S. answered. "I mean, if it was Zalgo, Slenderman would've done something about it."

"Yeah, that's true," Jeff agreed.

Jeff was now twenty-three years of age. Rather thin and of average height, he had stark white skin, and about a third of his body was laden with burn scars due to a terrible accident he had been involved in when he was thirteen. One of these scars was on the right side of his face, blinding him in one of his ice blue eyes. His jet black hair, which he straightened, reached almost to his shoulders. He was one of those people who never brought up their childhood unless it was necessary, and if you knew anything about Jeff, you wouldn't blame him, especially if you heard about why he had a Glasgow smile carved into his cheeks.

"Am I gonna get got?" piped up Hector, Jeff and S.O.S.'s son, whom Jeff was carrying on his back. He was only four years old, and he had shaggy black hair like his father and olive green eyes like his mother.

"Don't worry about it, scruffy," Jeff reassured him, using the affectionate nickname he often addressed him as.

"Yeah, we're not gonna let anything happen to you." S.O.S. added with a small smile. She was normally patient and calm, but you could always spot her in a crowd due to her vibrant pink hair, which she dyed herself, and her blind right eye that was the result of a gunshot. She and Jeff often joked that they matched.

"Your father, on the other hand," S.O.S. teased, letting her voice trail off.

"Verrry funny, babe," Jeff grumbled.

S.O.S. and Hector both laughed.

At last, the trio arrived back at their cabin, which they coincidentally shared with Jack. This often caused problems, as he and Jeff got into frequent shouting matches. Once or twice, Jack had even threatened Hector. But, luckily for the little family, Jack spent most of his time in his office in the infirmary. Jeff was most relieved by this, as Jack had been a big bully towards him since he had first been initiated into the Alliance.

"Okay, who wants hot cocoa?" S.O.S. offered as coats were taken off and hung up. S.O.S.'s gray cat, Aphrodite, soon entered the room.

"Oooh, me, me!" Hector cheered, wildly waving his hand.

Hector ran into the kitchen with his mother and Aphrodite following him. Jeff sighed as he watched them. He hoped he would be able to protect them from this threat, whatever it was.