Fantasy

I'm hoping this gets out to someone. I doubt it will, but there's always a chance that it could, right? I'm sitting here in what used to be my room as I type this. The TV is on, I have the window open, and the sun is shining. Sounds great, right? Unfortunately, no. This isn't my room. This isn't my house. It's all a perfect replica created by him.

I don't remember being stalked. Hell, I don't even remember how or when I got here. I guess the memory loss is bad even after you've been destroyed by him. I say destroyed because I haven't been killed, yet I wouldn't really call what's happening to me "living." Wait, I haven't explained who he is. Though with words like stalk and memory loss, I think you can figure out who he is.

The internet meme. That overplayed bastard. Slender Man.

I know you must be sick of Slender Man stories, but please listen. I believe at one point I fell victim to him. Let me take you back to that day and a few other days as well, I suppose.

One day, I was at home getting ready to go out. I was dressed and about to open the door of my room to leave and next thing I knew, I was in a dark void. The void warped and twisted around me as I stood there, trying to get my bearings. There was no up or down, no left or right.

I was just there in a swirl of colors that made my eyes hurt with how vibrant they were and how fast they were moving. I rubbed my eyes and when they focused, I was back in my room. I threw my door open, expecting to see the hallway I desperately needed. Nausea hit me rather quickly, so I was trying to hurry to the bathroom just in case.

There was nothing there. It wasn't like there was no one in the hall, but rather there was literally nothing there. It was the black void. There was no sound or air, just darkness. It was like what had happened before the colorful terror.

I slammed the door shut and turned to bury my face in a pillow, as I was so confused and afraid. However, when I turned, I saw him. He stood there, towering over me in that idiotic suit, tentacle arms at his sides and head craned downward to stare at me.

"Welcome," he said to me.

He didn't actually speak, however. He has no mouth, after all. Instead, I saw words in the same scratchy, messy font from the notes he sends to those Youtubers. It was silly, cheesy, and dumb...all words I know you're thinking, but it's true.

He displayed that stupid font in front of me, suspended in the air. I swiped my hand across the letters to get them out of my face, but they remained. It was as if the words were being projected by an overhead projector. They remained there and distorted over the contours of my hand.

As I stared at the words, they began to fade and I realized my captor was gone. I had been taken by him and he was holding me hostage or prisoner or whatever he wanted to call me. I sat down in my armchair and looked up at my desk.

I saw that, as in the "real" world, there was my computer. Eagerly, I turned it on and waited for it to boot up. He had left me a means to communicate out! I was going to be free if I could get word out to someone.

I was wrong. I could sign on to AIM, Yahoo, and MSN just fine, but each list was empty. No one was online, not even people who never sign out. I changed my preferences to show people who were offline and everyone on the lists from before WERE offline.

I tried my browser to see if I actually had internet access. My finger twitched on the mouse button as the browser started up. Never had I been so eager to see vapid new stories and flash ads before me.

The homepage loaded and everything was there. News, games, everything. I went to Facebook to see if the homepage was just some catched page. I thought that if Facebook was updating, I'd be good.

Even Facebook loaded perfectly. I could see new statuses and links show up on my news feed, but my status bar was gone. Comment boxes were gone and even the chat bar was missing.

He was allowing me to go online and see life go on, but he wouldn't let me speak to anyone. I slumped back in my chair and watched the news feed update. It scrolled along, showing me what everyone was doing, but I could interact with none of it. What was I going to do? Was I dead? Was I in some other dimension? I had nothing now.

Over time, I began to just live my life again. I watched TV. I went on my usual websites. I enjoyed what I could. I don't know how he was piping all of this in, but he wasn. he would pop in now and then to check on me, too.

One day, he finally "spoke" to me again. He told me I wasn't dead. I was merely his and I wasn't going home, nor was I going to die. He told me I should never have looked into him and that this was all my fault.

From that point on, he started harvesting things from my brain. He was taking fantasies and the things I loved and began to make them real. Whatever I could think up - whatever was on my mind that I used to put myself into a happy place - was fodder for him.

Soon I was going on Pokemon quests. I was fighting in the Battle City tournament. I was flying through space on the Normandy beating up evil aliens. I was kicking ass with Nathan Drake and stealing treasures. I even owned my own successful business. Yet every time, he came and ripped it all to shreds. Each one turned into some bad creepypasta when he showed up.

That Pokemon quest? He was the League Champion when I got to the end. He had no Pokemon at all, though. I sent mine out to try and attack him, but he stabbed each one with a rigid tentacle. I saw my team fall dead to the ground as the world warped and distorted around me.

I was dropped at a Pokemon Center, where everyone's critters were dead and the trainers were all maimed. They screamed out that their Pokemon had turned on them before seizing and dying. They cried so much that many were hyperventilating while others were starting to go mad. The sky turned red and the screams grew louder. Then everything went out like a TV turning off.

In Battle City, he fought me atop the tower on Kaiba's Alcatraz. He had no deck, no Duel Disk...nothing. Every time I played a card, he had one better that he pulled out from anywhere. When I pulled ahead, he destroyed me with cheap moves.

His field would go from empty to full in a mere turn and all hope I had for winning was constantly dashed. Then, as I lost my last Life Point, he destroyed the tower and let us fall into the ocean. I fell, tumbling through the air as debris fell around me.

As I looked up, I could see him slowly descending - standing still - and merely "staring" at me. I hit the water hard and struggled to find the way up. Pieces of the tower knocked into me, sending me around in circles until I opened my eyes and saw the faint light of the surface.

I finally surfaced and looked out to shore, where I saw nothing but destruction. Demented versions of cards ransacked the city. They were so familiar, but looked so demonic I couldn't even begin to fathom any comparisons to describe them. It's as if they were an amalgamation of all that was evil in the world, but I know that makes zero sense.

Buildings fell, explosions went off, and the sounds of screaming were quickly drowned out by piercing laughter that ranged from demonically deep to squeaky and disturbing. Bodies were being flung into the water next to me by the grotesque monsters, blood and innards raning down onto me as I treaded water for as long as I could.

I swam to the shore, desperate to get out of this fantasy, but once again he shattered it. It went crashing around me, shards of my surroundings flying everywhere with a warped crashing sound ringing in my ears.

In the next one, I was fighting aliens and robots with Shepard. It seemed like no other crew was around. We were freeing people trapped on a remote planet and were so close to deactivating the forcefields holding them captive in a large cell when he came to ruin things.

We had spent hours collecting access codes and fending off hoards of guards, but we were still standing and about to make it through and he was here to ruin it. He caused the shield to generate more power once we went to punch in the last access code.

The amount of power building in the shield was too unstable, causing it to intensify to dangerous levels. Once the shield had overloaded, it sent out a surge of energy that electrocuted everyone in the cell, causing them to scream out in tinny, hollow yells of pain.

The console that controlled the shield was fried and electricity arced out and hit Shepard. His armor overloaded and glowed red due to the intense heat, every bit of it frying from the overload. He was being cooked alive in what was supposed to protect him.

Then Slender Man showed himself, standing in the space between us and the now dead prisoners. My eyes focused on him and everything went silent. I blinked. I was back in my room with the scent of burned flesh lingering in the air.

I won't recount the other stories here, as I don't have the energy. Each one is as bad as the others, so forgive me for not wanting to remember them. I bet you think they all sound like bad creepypastas written by teenagers and I did warn you.

I bet you think stories about Pokemon are stupid. You know what, though? You're right. He took every silly thought, every wish, every fun little fantasy I've ever had and turned it against me. He created the elaborate worlds to dangle happiness in front of my face, only to destroy them.

He's even been toying with the fake weather outside my window. Rain while sunny, tornadoes, intense heat, upside down rain...he'll do anything absurd to confuse me. He even changes the day/night cycles to keep me tired and confused.

None of the clocks in my room run properly, nor do any of them display the correct times. Nothing on the internet has times or dates attached and the TV schedule seems to change mid-show, so I have no other means to help me know where I am in time.

To make this all stop, I purposefully fantasized about killing him. I fantasized about ripping his tentacles off and stabbing through his blank head with as big a knife I could think of. He even let them come true. I got in every means of horrible torture I could in each fantasy.

Not once would he ever be able to live once I got through with him. But, of course, once I killed him, sat back, and reveled in my victory, he was gone. The body was gone and he was standing in front of me, staring. He laughed. There was no sound, no words, but I could feel the laughter.

Truthfully, I'm not even scared anymore. I guess when I think back to specific parts of his destructions of my fantasies, I get a bit scared. I'm not even pissed off anymore. Mostly, I'm just tired. I'm defeated. This is what he wanted, after all. He's keeping me alive only to torture me.

I live in my fantasies and try to make the best of it, but I know he will always come to destroy it all. I want out. Hell, I'll take death at this point so that I don't have to risk him coming back for me. Now I'm beginning to believe this happens to everyone. After all, the only things ever found of the abducted are bags of body parts so that might not even be them. They could be in their own pocket dimensions being tortured as well.

If this gets out, please try to find a way to at least save yourself. I can't get email to go out successfully, but he may let this one out to use it against me. After all, he may just end up stalking my reader. For that, I'm sorry.

Another fantasy is starting. I should go. I think this one is where I'm a detective...