And another thing.

Tune that damn piano, will you?

I can't tell your D from your E flat.

As fun as it'd be...

This isn't the time for everyone to sit down and fucking cry.

Here at camp slenderland, things are not going well, at all. and really, if you can't see that, you're a fucking idiot.

So why are some of the others running around camp with fake optimism?

... It's not something that I'm going to try and understand.

Am I going to give up?

Fuck no. It's going to take a lot more than one of my best friends going to the dark side to make me fucking give up.

(Those cookies better be damn worth it, Walter.)

But we had to do something. Leaving all this shit around from the people who died (and the person that might as well be dead) is really creeping everyone out. Not me, of course; I can handle a shirt or two.

But Lyle...

Suze....

Christ, everyone is taking it hard. Especially now that-

(fucknoRicharddon'tthinkabouthim)

So we staged a pretty big bonfire last night. It was... soothing, in a way? I don't know; a few kept crying and a few kept laughing and really, they haven't stopped since.

... and I'm banking on nobody checking this, so I'll come out and say it.

I was going through Walter's tent, picking and choosing what we were going to burn because, fuckdammit, some of those textbooks he had were interesting and there was no point in putting them to waste because nobody wanted to be fucking sentimental....

Anyways.

I was rolling up his sleeping bag when I found a lump. Woulda just ignored it but it was unsightly and

okay. Is anyone surprised that I thought it was porn?

... It was better than that. This little soft thing, kinda worn. Still in pretty good shape; patched up with black stitches on white fur. Maybe whoever was mending it had run out of proper thread? Pinned to it was a little note;

"Wallllllllllllllly

I'm going to miss you! D: But Mum and Dad say that you really want to go on this trip and it's going to be good for your career and blah blah blah. They're lying, aren't they? I know you don't like this stuff, so I packed your favourite textbooks without you noticing. Teach Zach some, will you? He doesn't seem the most happy all the time, but he's nice. He said he'd take good care of you while you were gone, so I'll just have to trust him, right?

Try not to get too many mosquito bites! I can't wait to play with you once you get back, okay? No avoiding it for schoolwork!

Uh-oh, I can hear you walking back up to your room. Have fun on the trip, and sleep tight!

(P.S. If you rip Mr. Nibbles, make sure to fix him, alright?)"

Sorry, guys. but when we get out of here, I'm going to be returning this. Plus, this rabbit has a damn bowtie. A BOWTIE.

Beat that, Slendershit.

... and to close on some good news, though it's kind of paranoia inducing;

We got a special delivery yesterday. Food. Water. A bit of medicine. After weighing the risks, we've decided that it's all we've got right now. The paths are so bad that it takes hours to reach the river and minutes to get back. Almost like the forest is going nuts or something; ah well.

Only question is...

Who the hell left it, if nobody can get in?

(Though if somebody doesn't end up keeling over dead, well....

We've obviously got someone watching over us.)

Fight 'till the end;

--Richard Battle

Someone Needed to Change the Blog Description

So I changed it.

I wonder how much longer we'll try and delude ourselves.

Someone needs to change the blog description.

Oh, You Son of A ...

BITCH.

The blog was down all weekend. Not that any of would have known, seeing as somebody has been posting in our abscence.

Collectorfucker.

Mmm ... no. Doesn't have the same ring as Slenderfucker.

I'll come up with a nickname yet.

Bitch.

... Yes.

I quite like that.

Bitch will do nicely.

So, the sumbitch who decided that we needed to be 'punished' decided to do so by trapping us all in a dead zone. No internet, no service.

As if we weren't lacking in those already.

On top of that, we had cases of what I will now refer to as Slendersickness up the wazoo. Lyle locked himself in his tent and is currently coughing up two lungs and a liver's worth of blood and bile, (as black as the fucking night, of course) and Alex has this splitting headache and has curled up in a ball somewhere in the middle of camp and Walter has been ... well, he's been Walter, but a wall emotes more than that man and that's only because you can paint a wall.

Two more people are dead.

As Elliott puts it.

FanFUCKINGtastic.

Not by Slender, oh no, not even at the hands of the little bitch who thinks it's cute to

Calm, Suze, caaaaaaaalm ...

TL;DR suicide. Lucky bastards got out before Slender could get to them.

If only we could all be so lucky.

They were ... in love. Deeply so. Disgustingly so. Goo-goo-ga-ga eyes and 'I wub you more' 'no, I wub you more!' and promises of being together for as long as they lived and bluh bluh huge waste of time.

Well.

I guess they were right about being together for as long as they lived.

But what they got was far from what I'd consider a fairytale ending.

But that's what you get for being stalked by an eldritch abomination, isn't it?

Sometimes there are no happy endings.

We found them hung with belts on the other side of the thicket around camp. I'm not the first and certainly not the last one to tell you this forest is a maze, so I'm not going to lie to you when I say that I doubt that they actually decided to ... end it there. Judging by the note we found in Jennifer's tent the morning of, (Saturday, thanks for asking.) they didn't want to be found. She rattled off some Bible verses and said something about being 'together in paradise' and I really couldn't care less.

But maybe I'm just bitter.

Well fuck me me with a rusted railroad spike you didn't read this post expecting anything less than a rant and a cluster f bomb to put every Michael Bay movie ever to shame, did you?

Recaps are Alex's job, if I recall correctly.

Come to think of it, I should ask him about that. Somebody needs to be able to deliver in this shitstorm of panic and angst and god knows what else.

Quickly losing patience,
Suze

There's screaming in the camp.

[REDACTED]

To Whoever Managed To...

Hack into Zach's account?

I have no idea what you're trying to pull or achieve or... whatever. But congratulations. Because you know what? Suze flew out of her tent like a bat out of hell and started interrogating everyone and now everyone is more terrified than they already are. So well done, you fucking jackass.

And as for your little poem? I don't know how YOU fucking know this, but we have no choice but to wait. We can't seem to navigate the forest and now everyone is turning up dead-

But you would know about that, wouldn't you, Lyle? Isn't it downright easy to fool yourself? You know me, but I know YOU more. Because, you see, I'm watching. And waiting. While you try and save your own hide.

Then again, am I really one to talk?

You never found his body, did you?

Hayden's at least calmed down a bit...

... But it's been a long, long night.
The meeting explained a... lot to the others, but it was hard to multi-task with the whole Hayden situation being on the down-low.

Dear god. If anything could be described as a fortress.....

If anything, he's creative.

We figured that since he checks the blog religeously, if we posted a summary of the meeting, he'd calm down and....

Well, that was the plan.

What actually happened is that all our phones decided to have some sort of panic attack and get stage fright. Having our only source of communication cut off all night has REALLY not helped the psyche of most of us, but I digress.

With that option rendered... not an option, we were forced to move the meeting closer to Hayden's tent//fortress and speak IN VERY, VERY LOUD VOICES.

Here's to technology.

It seemed to work, though. Hayden's calmed down sufficiently for us all to stop worrying about him, uh, MURDERING US IN OUR SLEEP and everyone is up to speed now. Which means that Alex, Suze, Richard, Walter, Elliott, and I are very, VERY tired from keeping watch over him all night.

Needless to say, we've got our work cut out for us.

Alex'll be posting the summary of the meeting tonight, once we all get some rest. In the meantime, Richard has insisted on going on some kind of lack of sleep marathon and told the rest of us to get some shut-eye.

(And all of us are too afraid of him and/or exhausted to say anything)

Hopefully, the screaming will tone down a bit.

...

Doubtful.

Guess the cat's out of the bag.

Oh sure, I'd love to spent my time curled up in my tent sobbing my fucking eyes out over the death of my boyfriend but you all seem to have that role well and truly filled.

What the hell was I supposed to do, Lyle? You know just as well as I did what could happen going into the forest, and when Zach started slipping all you could think about was how to cover your own ass.

Christ on a bike, I never thought I'd be the voice of reason in a situation like this.

As much as I would love to sit here and wail 'Oh, woe is us! We're trapped in a forest and we've seen the deaths of our classmates and now our beloved professor has vanished!' I'm well aware of the fact that we have much, much, much worse things to worry about.

Anybody who isn't painfully genre-blind will know what I'm talking about.

[REDACTED]

There's no point in playing dumb anymore because this has reached the point of pants on head retarded and nobody seems to be able to do anything anymore. It's been five days since ... well, you know and nobody except for about seven of us (god bless you all, you beacons of common fucking sense in this otherwise abysmal pit of genre-blind, angsty university students.)

Calm, Suze, caaaaalm.


Tempers are running short, obviously. What Alex is so cheekily calling Exploration #1 (in what I pray to god isn't a House of Leaves reference) isn't helping, and while Richard goes and menaces some trees Lyle is beside himself because he knows just as well as I do we're all well and thoroughly fucked.


...







Jesus rollerblading Christ.


I always pictured the worst-case scenario of this trip being our chargers dying and the poor, defenseless peroxide blondes being left without their precious facebook.

But that's a lie, isn't it?

One of them is a brunette.

What I didn't expect was this.



Fanfuckingtastic.

To be perfectly honest, I'd like to pretend I have absolutely no clue as to neither who Tall, Dark and Slender is nor to what he wants with us, but when it comes right down to it I don't see the point in pretending. After all, he's been given fifty delicious servings of University Student à la mode and has no intention of giving us back any time soon.

Or at all.

Zach was a huge fan of the mythos. He was completely fascinated by the v/blogs and the idea of a seemingly unstoppable, reality-warping, cough-inducing Eldritch Abomination. I myself was never a fan of horror, but the vlogs seemed interesting enough and some of the blogs are very, very good.

So I suppose you could say I know what we're dealing with.

...

Nope, can't even keep a straight a face.

So I suppose you could say I'm more knowledgeable than 95% of the people here.

So I guess not all hope is lost?

Yay?

[REDACTED]

... Alex was right. Being optimistic is hard.

Speaking of Alex, you and Richard need to gather as many people as you can and meet me at center camp in ten. It's my turn to go talk some common sense into the rest of the camp and inform them about what we're dealing with. Lyle knows and I think he's just as badly in denial as I was, but with the events of this afternoon he'd be downright stupid to not accept it.


Either way, it's going to be one helluva afternoon.

. . . And now the comments are down.

Fanfuckingtastic.

Double teaming

Because someone in this camp has to get everyone back on track, and it sure as hell won't be anyone else who does it.

Richard Battle here. Walter has already gotten some people back to work, but we still have one big problem.

In everyone's shock and grief, they seem to forget we're STILL HERE, in the FUCKING FOREST where it's REALLY EASY to KILL US.

You know.

Just saying.

Walter, who would normally wouldn't raise a hand to swat off a mosquito, managed to slap some sense into Victor. Victor, who nearly got into [REDACTED] on an athletic scholarship and is built like a fridge with a Chia pet on top. If you haven't gathered, Walter is about as built as a washboard.

Yet he had Victor on the ground, terrified.

Go Philosodude. Whatever floats your motherfucking boat, because today, I had to deal with the Lyle issue. Here's the lowdown; while most of us have stolen a few hours of sleep, he hasn't had any. In what looks like days, before, well...

you know.

And I...well.... I walked into camp after some scouting and Walter and I made some food, and handed it out. As per usual now, everyone ate in silence. And then I realized Suze wasn't there.

Now let's get something straight. Zach and I were pretty close, so Suze and I know each other well enough. And I'm pretty sure if I let his girlfriend get killed, well, he wouldn't be too happy with me.

So of course, I ask where she is, and then that little black haired fucker started to laugh. "Wandered off. If she's not going to be savvy enough to-" He was cut off then by me tackling him to the ground.

"What the hell, Lyle?" I was furious, 'course everyone was staring by now. "Does the saying 'keep everyone alive' mean anything to you, you fucking piece of shit?"

At this point it was when I noticed how bad he looked; bags under eyes, heavy lids, maniac grin that was faltering. Someone had to wake this kid up. He managed to pick himself up and started to brush himself off, and suddenly his hand flew instinctively to his face. A thin trail of blood ran down the ridge of his nose and I held up my butterfly knife (Illegal in over 5 provinces!).

"Zach was a hundred times the fighter I was, and I could've killed you easily right there. Now go get some sleep or else the fucking psycho won't get the fucking chance, y'hear me?" I gritted my teeth as I watched his face slowly fall as he realized I was right and Walter gently took him to a tent.

The rest of the students watched me, like they were hypnotized or something like that shit. "And YOU! Does having a serial killer stalk you take points off your FUCKING IQ?!? WHAT THE HELL IS WITH YOU ALL?!? GET IT TOGETHER!!!" And they all started to move, by god, albeit away from me.

...I didn't look behind me, did I?

At least camp is up and running again.

Suze turned out to be in her tent, but I'm almost glad that this happened, because I was talking to Walter later and he looked at me and asked

"Why?"

"Because they need something to hate, Walter. They need something with a name and a face that they can see and asses and plot against. Right now we've just got bodies and a whole lot of being afraid. So they hate me. So they think I'm...." I didn't even finish that thought. "It's alright. Because everyone who's dead would've wanted me to keep 'em alive, no matter what it took." And Walter just sort of looked at me for a while, but he really didn't have to say anything.

So that's what's going on right now. And I guess that's my introduction too, ohhh boy. I'm just making a great impression, aren't I? Fucking awesome. I'll do what I have to but I probably won't like it.

Maybe someone else'll post later, I don't know. I'm going to go stand watch (not that we ever see anything through this fucking forest).

Fight 'till the end,

Richard Battle

Nicholas Chadwick Day.

Stop following me in the forest, you fucking creeper.

Love always,
         Elliott Broodmoor