Return Of The Slender Man Ch 01

This story is part of an ongoing series.

The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and

constructive

criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Special note: There are *NO* sex acts involving anyone under 18 years old in this story, nor in any of my stories.

The Slender Man was

created

discovered by Victor Surge Knudsen.

Part 1 - Prologue

4:00pm, Thursday, April 19th. I finished up the paperwork on the Tylenol Bottle case, then turned to the emails that had begun piling up in the last four hours. Paperwork never stops.

As I read through the emails, which were mostly copies cc'd to me, my assistant Helena buzzed me and said that Captain Cindy Ross wanted to see me. Captain Ross is one of the very few people in this world that could barge into my office without having to ask Helena, so for her to ask to come in suggested something important. I told Helena to let Cindy come in.

"Whassup?" I said as Cindy came in, taking the chair I motioned her into.

"Sir," she said, "With Captain Briscoe now with the Campus Police, we have no Press Relations Officer. The Press is massing in the Press Room, demanding you come there and make a statement about the Independent State Counsel."

"Sheesh." I muttered. "So I guess you're getting an early start on the Deputy Chief thing, huh?"

"I am prepared to take a green crowbar to some Press backsides." Cindy replied. "Good practice for the Police Boxing Matches."

"No doubt." I said. "By the way, is the Chief here?"

"No sir, he's still at City Hall, meeting with the Sheriff." Cindy said.

"Good." I said. "Take some Uniformed Officers and go in and clear the Press room. Kick every one of their arses out. If any of them give you the slightest bit of shit, have that person arrested and taken through booking for trespassing." Cindy excused herself, then stalked out to carry out my instructions. I got the impression she was really looking forward to it.

Three minutes later, she was back. This time she barged in, and had Captain Teresa Croyle with her. "Sir!" Cindy all but shouted, "we just got an incoming call to 9-1-1. Missing child. Alton Taylor, 10 years old."

"Alton Taylor?" I almost gasped. "He's one of the kids I rescued at Ward Harvester, when Ned shot me." (

Author's note: 'Sperm Wars: The Family Menace'.

) Cindy nodded, and I said "What happened?"

"He was playing Little League baseball at the Ronald Reagan Park baseball complex." said Teresa, referring to the baseball and softball fields in a circular array on the northeast 'backside' part of Ronald Reagan Park. "Someone hit a foul ball into a clump of woods, and he went to get it. He never came out of the woods, so everyone went looking for him. At first they thought he was playing a trick and hiding, and then they got worried he might be hurt and unconscious, so one of the coaches called the Police and his mother. We've got two units on the scene now."

"Okay," I said, "put out a tri-State alert for him, and call out the Auxiliary and Search & Rescue Volunteers. Bring the parents here, and ask Father Romano or one of the other Chaplains or the parents' minister to be here with them. I'll call the Chief. Cindy, did you kick the Press out?"

"No sir, I was intercepted by the Duty Desk before I got there." Cindy replied.

"Good." I said. "Let them stay in there. Don't say a word to 'em about any of this. Okay, y'all can go." They moved out with a purpose.

I called the Chief, who said he'd tell the Sheriff and Fire Chief. Then I sat back and contemplated. Of all the things we had to deal with, a missing child was just about the worst, at least in my own mind...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

About thirty minutes later, I got a call from Cindy on my Police iPhone.

"Sir," she said, "I think you need to come down here."

Oh no, I thought, they found the child's body. "Did you find a body?" I asked.

"No sir." said Cindy. "Just a piece of paper with a drawing on it..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sheet of paper was tacked to a tall tree, about eight feet off the ground. With my 6'4" height, I was able to reach up and remove it, wearing latex gloves to damage as little of the evidence as possible. Officers crowded around to see what was on it.

Words drawn in crude crayon said "Don't look or it takes you", an 'X' at the top right corner, and a stick drawing of a figure in black, with a white head with no facial features.

"Damn." I muttered, then said more loudly: "It's one of the Slender Man Eight Pages..."

Part 2 - It Begins

Slender Man, Slender Man, All the children try to run.

Slender Man, Slender Man, To him it's part of the fun.

Slender Man, Slender Man, Dressed in darkest suit and tie.

Slender Man, Slender Man, You most certainly will die.

Slender Man, Slender Man, His branching arms are for collecting.

Slender Man, Slender Man, His face is empty of expressing.

Slender Man, Slender Man, He won't let you say goodbye.

Slender Man, Slender Man, You most certainly will die.

Slender Man, Slender Man, Sometimes hums a lowly drone.

Slender Man, Slender Man, He will wander 'round your home.

Slender Man, Slender Man, Blends in well within the trees.

Slender Man, Slender Man, In the fog he's hard to see.

Slender Man, Slender Man, Dressed in darkest suit and tie.

Slender Man, Slender Man, You most certainly will die.

--- 'The Slender Man Song', attributed to Zip Zipper.

8:00pm, Thursday, April 19th. The page, in a protective plastic sleeve, was hanging on the whiteboard in MCD, held up by a magnet, and we were staring at it.

"It has a peculiar smell, like a chemical smell." I said. "But it appears to be plain crayon."

"There's a tiny '1' at the upper right hand corner, right next to the 'X'." said Joanne Warner, who'd been studying the page with a magnifying glass.

"Geez," said Captain Ross, "I hope we're not going to have seven more kidnappings."

The search was ongoing, as volunteer crews combed through Ronald Reagan Park, along the River on both sides as well as downstream and upstream, and in the subdivisions to the north of the Park. Except for the piece of paper and the baseball he'd gone after, no trace of Alton Taylor had been found. His shocked parents were in the Pastor's Room with their minister.

"Has the Press put out an alert yet?" I asked.

"They had coverage of the Taylor disappearance on their 6:00pm newscasts." Cindy said. "They've got crews out following our Search & Rescue teams."

I nodded. I had a bad feeling about this... and rightly so...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

9:15pm. Tommy Tomlin came into the den of his home on Cone Street, where his dad Bart Tomlin was watching a baseball game on TV.

"Dad," Tommy said, "there's someone in the backyard."

"What?" snarled Bart. He got up and looked out the sliding glass door that went to the back deck. Seeing nothing, he turned on the floodlight. The backyard was illuminated, but he still saw nothing.

"Boy, what have I told you about lying?" Bart said sternly to Tommy as he turned out the light. Ever since the divorce and Tommy's mother moving out to live with another man, Tommy had told a lot of fibs.

"I'm not lying, Dad." Tommy said. "I saw him, a man in a suit."

"Well, there's no one out there now." said Bart. "And our yard is closed in by all the surrounding houses, so nobody's just walking through."

Tommy went to the glass door and flicked on the light. "Dad! There he is!"

Bart came up to the window and looked out. In the middle of the back yard was a tall man in the darkest of black suits, white shirt and black tie. The man's head was ghostly white and had no facial features, but seemed to be 'looking' right at the father and son.

"Holy shit!" Bart said, pulling Tommy away from the sliding glass door. "Stay away from that door!" He ran to make sure the front door and door to the garage were locked, then came back to the sliding glass door. Looking out, he saw nothing.

"Dad! Are you going to call the Police?" Tommy asked, his voice quavering.

"Not yet." said Bart. "Come back to the bedrooms." Tommy followed his dad down the hall, and saw that his dad had grabbed his wallet and car keys and cell phone. "If we see the guy again, we'll call the cops."

They made their way to the den again. Turning on the floodlight, they saw no one in the backyard. As they turned and came back into the room, they heard a creak in the kitchen and looked through the door.

Standing in the kitchen was the Slender Man!

"Oh my God! Run!" yelled Bart. He all but dragged Tommy to the front door, unlocked it, and flew out into the front yard. "Get in the car!" Bart yelled.

"But Dad!" Tommy tried to call out as Bart violently pulled him along.

"Dammit, kid! Do what I tell you and get in the car!" Bart yelled. He grabbed Tommy, all but shoved him into the front passenger seat, then raced around the car to the driver's side. Getting in, he locked the doors, inserted the keys, and turned on the motor, which lit the headlamps.

The headlights illuminated the man in the suit,

who was standing right in front of the car!

"Aaauuugh!" screamed Bart as he tried to engage the gears in Reverse. They would not move as the Slender Man seemed to glide around the front of the car and the passenger side to the door.

"Dad! Help! Auughhh!" Tommy screamed out as the door opened and the man grabbed him. Bart grabbed for Tommy, but he was already whisked out, and the Slender Man was taking him around the corner of the house. Bart got out of the car to pursue, but when he got to the corner, there was no one there, no movement at all.

"Tommmyyyy!" Bart yelled out, fear gripping his soul. "Toommmmyyyyy!" Dogs barked, lights came on in the adjacent houses. But there was no sign of Tommy at all...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 10:05pm, I came up to the house. Lightbars were flashing on the tops of Police cruisers, and I debated whether or not to order them turned off. I decided not to; people needed to know there was a crisis here.

"Whaddya got?" I asked Detective Warner.

"Sir," Joanne said, "we have a hysterical man who saying his son was kidnapped by a tall man in a suit and tie, and a head with no features on it. We also found this taped to the passenger-side car window.

Joanne handed me the piece of paper in the plastic sleeve. It said "HELP ME!", written in crayon, and there was a tiny, barely visible number '2' in the top right hand corner.

"Shit." I muttered. "Another Slender Man page."

"Sir, do you think this is a copycat of Larry Lance?" Joanne asked, referring to the 'Slender Man' case of just over a year before.

"I don't know." I said. "This one has a... different... feel about it. Let's go talk tooooo..."

"Bart Tomlin, sir." said Joanne. "His son's name is Tommy." I nodded and we walked up to the man sitting on the steps to the front porch, with three Uniformed Officers attending him.

"Mr. Tomlin," I said, "I'm Commander Don Troy. What happened, sir?"

"That... that man..." said Tomlin, his face a mixture of shock, horror, maybe madness. His eyes were introspective and unfocused, and gave the the impression that he was a drug addict. "He was in my house!" The man started shaking. "He was right in front of the car! I locked the doors, but he still opened it... he was just right there!..."

"What did he look like, sir?" I asked.

"Tall... that face..." gasped Tomlin, who then snapped: "That face!

THERE WAS NO FACE!!

He had no face!... Aaahhhh!!"

An ambulance had arrived. "Get him to the Hospital." I ordered. "Mr. Tomlin! Go with these men." I really didn't need to ay anything; Tomlin was becoming catatonic. Medics helped him to the ambulance, put him inside, and the vehicle drove away.

"He just got worse and worse." said Sergeant Rudistan. "When we first got here, he was upset, but pretty coherent."

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He said his son saw a man in a suit in the backyard." said Rudistan. "He didn't believe the kid, then they both saw the man. He said the doors were all locked, but the man just... appeared in the kitchen, and Tomlin and his son ran out the front door to the car. When he turned on the headlights of the car, the man was right there in front of the car. Then he just came over, opened the supposedly locked car door, grabbed the kid and took him around the corner of the house."

"Any footprints?" I asked.

"No sir," said Rudistan, "and the soil is pretty soft around that side of the house. We're also looking for any footprints in the backyard, but 'no joy' on that, so far."

"What about inside?" I asked.

"Nothing strange at all, sir." said Rudistan. "No door locks were forced. Door to the garage and the sliding glass door to the back deck were locked. The boy's room is pretty messy, but looks more like a normal boy's room than having been ransacked."

"Not that one can really tell the difference, if my own sons' rooms are any indication." I said. "Okay, good work. Rudistan, stay in charge of the scene until the CSIs are completely done, then post a couple of guards. Keep the Press off the property."

"Yes sir." said Rudistan. I turned and went back to Joanne Warner, who was near the end of the driveway.

"Have you heard from Captain Ross?" I asked.

"Last I heard, sir," said Joanne, "she was checking in with the searchers at Ronald Reagan Park."

"Okay." I said. "You stay here for now. You're in charge of the investigation. After the forensic work is done, you can go to the Hospital and see if Mr. Tomlin recovers sufficiently to give a coherent statement."

"Yes sir." said Joanne. I went to my Police SUV, and once inside the comfortable confines of it, I called Cindy on my Police iPhone. She answered, and said she was at Ronald Reagan Park. I asked if anything had been found.

"Not a thing, sir." said Ross. "Myron sent up two infrared drones and searched the whole Park. No body heat signatures that were not Police or search volunteers. How long do you want to continue the search?"

I thought about that, and came to a conclusion: "Call it off at midnight. Once everyone is clear of the Park, have Myron run another IR drone sweep."

"Wilco... oh, wait... what's that?" Cindy had said that last bit to someone coming up to her. I heard muffled, indistinguishable voices, then Cindy got back on the line.

"Commander, they found something on the disc golf course. A bag full of discs. I'm going to go check it out." I told her to call be back if it was important, and we disconnected.

I might as well go down there, I thought to myself. I cranked the SUV and headed out.

Part 3 - A Glowing Discovery

"Whaddya got?" I asked as I came up to the Disc Golf basket. It was the 11th hole basket, which ran through the woods on the hill in the middle of the Park, between the open spaces to the south and north.

"This, sir." said Sr. Patrolman Hicks. J.R. Barnes was finishing his forensic examination of a bag of disc golf discs. Attached to the bag were straps allowing a person to carry the bag like a backpack. In the pouch that was normally for a water bottle was what looked like a flashlight.

"Who found this, and when?" I asked.

Cindy Ross said "The bag was sitting on top of the basket, sir. Several search volunteers have admitted they saw it, but thought a disc golfer left it there and was helping with the search. About twenty minutes ago, old Mrs. Boddiker came up to Patrolman Hicks and pointed out the bag to him. When he checked it out, he found this taped to the chain below the basket."

She handed me a sheet of paper enclosed in a plastic sleeve. Drawn on the paper in crayon were a number of pine trees. In the middle of them was a drawing of the Slender Man, darkest suit and tie, faceless head. At the top left hand corner was a crudely drawn circle with an 'X' through it, the iconic sign of the Slender Man. Barely visible at the top right was a small '8'.

"Skipped to '8', eh?" I said to Cindy. I then examined the bag. "Hmmm, these are all glow discs, made to glow in the dark. Someone was playing night disc golf, or intended to."

"Sir," said J.R. Barnes, "there were no prints on any of the discs, the flashlight, or the drawing."

"Really?" I said, surprised. "That, Captain Ross, is a 'strangeness'. Let's you and me take this to Headquarters as evidence, if J.R. is finished with it."

"Yes sir." said Barnes. "Just sign for it, please." I did so and Cindy rode in my Police SUV with me, after trusting the keys to her Police SUV to Detective Theo Washington...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Think these are a clue?" Cindy asked as she examined the discs, wearing latex gloves as she handled them.

"I get the sense that they are." I said. "The drawing certainly is. Maybe it was left separately, but that'd be a lot of coincidence for me to swallow." Cindy smiled at that.

"So Alvin Taylor is missing," she said, "and Tommy Tomlin was plain kidnapped. Is Myron working up some data for us?"

"You know it." I said. "And I told him to concentrate on the Tomlin family first... I'm not totally sold on the man's story."

"Think he made it up?" Cindy asked. "Joanne said he looked really freaked out."

"He looked drugged up, too, when I saw him." I said. "It occurred to me that he could've taken something... or been given something... that progressively acted upon him as time went on. Bloodwork at the Hospital will show if that's the case, or not."

Cindy nodded, then said "I hope that this being No. 8 means that there will be no more kidnappings, or that any other drawings will come with disc golf bags and not missing children."

"Yeah, me too." I said, but not convinced that would be the case. We pulled into the parking lot of Police Headquarters. When we went inside, Chief Moynahan met us in the hallway.

"I hope the Press did not catch you guys playing disc golf during this time of crisis." the Chief said jokingly.

"No sir," I said, "but if they had seen me carrying this bag, they really would try to say I'm playing disc golf and not paying attention to the case."

Have I mentioned that I have a total lack of trust in the Press?

I took the bag of discs to my office to examine them, and the Chief came in with me. Cindy took the drawing to the whiteboards in MCD as I examined the discs closely. They were all brand new, unused as far as I could tell, and a pretty standard set of disc golf discs made of plastic that glowed in the dark.

As Cindy returned to the office, I put the bag in the safe in my office, and the Chief and I signed the custody form. He then went to his office as I said to Cindy "Let's go see Myron."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Classroom 'F' had been converted into walled cubicle spaces with doors, with one of those cubicles being a server farm. Cindy and I knocked on Myron's cubicle door and heard a "Yes?"

"Got anything for us, Myron?" I called out.

"I'll come to your office in five minutes, sir." said Myron.

True to his word, I'd barely started a fresh pot of coffee in my office when Myron knocked on the door and came on in. I had him sit down in a hot chair, with Cindy sitting next to him.

"Bart Tomlin, 36 years old; one son, Tommy, aged 10." said Myron. "Bart's wife left him a year and a half ago, went to live with another man, did not try to get custody of Tommy. I got some school records, and Tommy's grades dropped off after his mother left him."