Slenderman PrologueMature

Monday 27Th February 2012

It was he decided, safe to close his eyes. The sounds of the birds doing their morning sing was a melody that pushed him further into the arms of sleep; of the sandman. Kaleidos’s eyelids felt heavy and his head ached with a dull throbbing sensation. Images blurred as he shuffled over toward the bed and tore his clothes off with all the vigour a person who hasn’t slept in over seventy hours can. His naked body slipped into the bed and his body shivered as his skin came into contact with the cold sheets. The mattress wasn’t a comfy one and many people had lain awake in it for hours before falling asleep before him. But his body no longer cared and as he drifted off, giving little too no thought of what might happen while he slept.
His eyes snapped open, his mind groggy but instantly awake at the same time. Looking at his watch he read off the time, date and year. God… had it really only been five hours? His body moaned and felt repulsed as he forced it out of bed, making his way to the enjoying bathroom. After relieving himself, he re-entered the bedroom and went off to where he’d thrown his clothes several hours earlier. A chill crept down his spine when he saw they were no longer there. His eyes danced around the room, still blurry from sleep and it took his a few moments to notice they were now piled on top of a chair in the corner. Approaching them as if they were a live bomb, he saw that they’d been neatly folded and placed on the chair. It was, ever the unsubtle hint from him, saying he, Kaleidos was not out of his reach, that he was and always would be under his gaze.
‘FUCK YOU!’ he screeched sounding totally unlike himself, sounding more like a wild animal.
Picking the clothes up, he threw them at the bin, although they ended up missing and being scattered across the room. Reaching for his bag, which was within arm reach, he pulled himself a new pair of boxers, jeans and white t-shirt. They were the same as the pair he’d just thrown away and his bag contained another two pairs looking exactly the same. Pulling them on with a distracted look upon his face, repacking his bag afterwards. Seeing his reflection in the tiny mirror mounted on the wall he almost spun around. His once long hair was now short cropped and it had gone from dark brown to black. His body has withered from lack of sleep, food and mass amounts of stress. Huge black bags hung underneath his eyes, his cheeks appearing sunken in. He weighed barely seven stone and lacked the appetite that a twenty two year old should. Only six months before hand he’d been at full health, at meals, wore fashionable clothes and without a doubt laughed every day, he had on thought, been a happy young man, physically fit, entering his prime. That he often considered was the only reason he’d made it this far, that and the police training he’d had, albeit only three years’ worth of experience, it had proven time and time again to be enough to help him pull through. He’d quit the police seven months ago, just before all this had started because of a case. The case that had led to his current situation. Four children missing and nothing to go on, over than other children claiming to have seen or spoken to a “Tall man.” It had been eerie how they had all answered with that answer, with the same distant expression on their faces. He’d realised that if anything it was a conditioned response, but who had that kind of influence over all these children, whom all had nothing in common? Other than being children. He’d stated this to his partner, his superiors, family and friends. They had all dismissed him, overlooked his insight and it had finally pushed him to do such a dramatic thing as quit his job and start privately investigating the ‘disappearances’. That had led to the discovery of more and more missing children and that had led to him, which had led to this; here and now. 

The End

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