Not Your Everyday Trap

I need to give credit to Matthew for taking so much of the situation in stride. It wasn’t until 330 said, “… and they’re planning to perform some kind of summoning ritual to put Slender Man under their control for a vague and not fully explained evil plan,” that he looked surprised.

“… You’re joking, right?”

“Fraid not.”

We’d reached Matthew's house when that conversation took place. It… was a dump. Couldn’t tell when it had least been cleaned. Tiny, too.

“What did you expect? A mansion? This isn’t a job you take if you’re looking for money.”


With the CIA being established as sufficiently evil, we had to think of a plan.

“A plan? That’s easy. Head into town and shoot anyone employed by a government agency we don’t like.” Was 330’s response.

“No, we need a real plan.” Matthew said. “We need to figure out why they’re so determined to get hold of Chicago that they’re willing to bomb public buildings, and why none of the higher ups are trying to stop them. Once we know that, we-”

A phone’s ringing cut him off.

“Someone know you’re here?” 330 asked.

“They shouldn’t. And I don’t think I’ve paid the phone bill on this place in years….”

Matthew picked up the phone. “Yeah?”

He listened for a moment, then hung up. “Seems we’ve got a fellow agent who says he escaped attack. He wants us to meet him.”

“So... a trap?” 330 said.

“Yeah. It’s a trap.”

“Awesome. Lisa, you read to get going?”

“What? To the meeting you’ve just said was a trap?”

“Yup. What else are we supposed to do with a trap that’s been so politely given to us?”

As 330 and I had this discussion, Matthew began ruffling through a closet, muttering, “God damn idiots, there’s always someone who thinks they can toy with the powers of darkness….”

He pulled aside the back wall of the closet, revealing a lot of guns. 330 whistled, and began to go through the selection.

“No way in hell am I giving up my town to some psycho CIA conspiracy.” Matthew said.

The two vets decked themselves out with enough guns to equip a small country; Lucy and I just got pistols and flak jackets. Well at least half of us are going to be prepared for whatever comes….


The place where the meeting was supposed to happen was inside the city, and early in the evening, which seemed counterproductive to launching an ambush. But when we got near, the liveliness of the city died out. There were only a dozen cars along us… then three… then none. The sun started to go down, earlier than it should have. Street lights steadily flicked on and off, illuminating empty sidewalks.

The plan wasn’t very complicated. Me, 330, and Lucy would be in one of the conspicuously empty buildings overlooking the meeting spot. Matthew, wearing a radio we could hear him through, would go out and meet whoever had called us.

We were on the third story of the building, by an open window. 330 had a scoped rifle which she was looking through; even without one, we were close enough that I could see the figure of a man standing directly in the center of the street intersection. We watched Matthew approach him, but the man didn’t move.

“Alright, I’m here.” Heard Matthew speaking through the radio. “Now whaddya want?”

No reply. Saw a light from Matthew lighting a cigarette.

“Sniper!” 330 shouted, aiming at a window across the street. She tightened her finger on the trigger-

Before she could fire, the assassin was thrown out the window and fell screaming to his death at Matthew’s feet. The previously immobile man suddenly grabbed Matthew from behind, pinning his arms.

“No, no no, that won’t do!” I heard a voice without a source. Sounded like a girls. Looked around, couldn’t see who was speaking. Sounded like it was being projected into my head. “I can’t have people trying to break my precious toys!”

Back down at the intersection, I saw someone skipping towards Matthew. A girl…. 330 let me look through the scope so I could see her clearer. Teenager? Preteen? I don’t know. Her face looked weird…. At first I couldn’t tell, but as she got closer, it became obvious. The face was painted on, painted over wood.

“The Wooden Girl….” Lucy said. Guess that’s its name.

“It’s been so long, Matty!” The Wooden Girl’s voice went through my mind. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Matthew struggled against his captor as the Girl moved closer. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Aw, why so mean? I came all this way just so I could see you again….” She was close enough to put a hand on his cheek.

He tried flinching away from her touch. “Get away from me you bitch!” Kicked his legs out, knocking her onto the ground.

She laughed as she was pulled up by some force. Moved even closer to Matthew this time, so her face was nearly touching his, and with a hand on his chest. “I think someone needs a little punishment as a reminder of their place, don’t you Matty?”

Everything moved fast after that. 330 fired a shot which went through the head of the man holding Matthew. The man went down instantly, and Matthew used his new freedom to pull a gun on the Girl. She flicked a finger, and his gun arm was cleanly cut off. The Girl faced the window we were by, while Matthew screamed through the radio for us to run. She flicker both her hands at us, just as 330 was shoving Lucy and I to the floor. The window, part of the wall, everything behind us, was torn to pieces; torn to pieces by strings, barely visible except when the light caught them. More strings ripped through the walls, striking all around me as we ran out of the building. Left the radio behind, letting the sound of Matthew’s screams fade. We made it out okay, although I did get a bit of a haircut at one point….

Ran straight to the car. When we reached it, Lucy asked, “How are we going to save Mr. Larsen?”

“We aren’t.” 330 said.

“What do you mean we aren’t?”

“You can’t save people from the Wooden Girl. Especially if she likes them as much as she seems to like your boss.”

“But… you’re…. You’re I-330! There’s nothing you can’t do!”

Didn’t reply. She got into the car and started the engine. Lucy began to cry. I put my arm around her and led her into the car, and we drove away.

-Lisa

Car Chases

The explosion at our hotel was on the news the next morning. They said it was a gas leak which caused the explosion. That… is definitely one of the worst cover ups I’ve heard of.

Someone tried to kill us. Not many candidates for who.

There, um… there… and there were people in that hotel when the explosion happened. The blast took out the entire floor we’d been staying on. Most who were on it… they’re dead. Just because we happened to be at the same hotel as them. If we’d never gone there… we could have slept in the car, we’ve done it before, we didn’t have to put those people in danger….

And that wasn’t even the end of it…. Things got worse from there.

Soon as morning hit, 330 tried calling Lucy. Didn’t get a reply. We drove to their office fast as we could. Place had been ransacked by the time we arrived. Front door was torn off the hinges, and everything inside was a mess. There was a man, someone I’d never seen before, in the back room, searching through a stack of papers. When he saw us come in her cursed, and pulled out a gun. 330 vanished from my side and appeared behind him; grabbed him and slammed his head into a wall, then twisted his gun arm until I heard a snap. Pulled the gun out of his hand and threw him to the floor.

“Are you with Lupine?”

He groaned in response. 330 pulled the trigger, shooting less than an inch from the man’s face.

“I said, are you with Lupine?!”

“Yes! Yes, dammit!”

“Where are the two who work here?”

“I don’t kno-”

330 fired again, even closer. “Where are they?”

“I-57! They were heading south on I-57!”

She kicked him in the face once, and ran towards the door. “Get back in the car!” She already had the engine started by the time I’d gotten in my seat.

Being a helpless passenger to breakneck speeds is becoming something of a regular thing to me. Probably not a good sign. Doing it down a city street, though… that’s insane. The way she was cutting through traffic… and all those red lights we went past… and that one time we went on the sidewalk for a bit…. I’m amazed we didn’t die. Police tried to stop us, but whenever sirens came up behind, 330 would flicker for a moment (causing my heart to jump into my throat because there was that one second where no one was driving the car) and suddenly the patrol car’s tires would blow out.

Didn’t take long to find Matthew Larsen and Lucy. They were the ones having the high speed car chase with the two black SUVs on their tail.

“Take the wheel.” Was the only warning 330 gave me before she vanished, and I had to jump over to the driver’s seat to stop from crashing into a light pole. Once I regained control, looked out the window and saw that 330 had appeared on top of one of the SUV’s hood. She fired several shots into the SUV, then appeared on the other’s hood, where she repeated the process. Both were swerving off the street when she appeared back in the car, this time in the passenger’s seat.

“Follow Matthew’s car.” She instructed, and that’s what I did. Followed him for an hour, as their car twisted randomly through the city streets. Finally stopped inside a parking garage.

Matthew got out of his car pretty quickly, and strode forward towards us. Lucy came out after him, but stayed with their car, leaning on it for support. 330… didn’t even bother with the door. She just appeared outside.

“Alright, what the hell’s going on?” Matthew said. “Some goons tried to jump us at our office, then we got chased halfway through the city by those vans.”

“CIA’s moving back into the city.” 330 said.

Matthew nodded, apparently not surprised. He put a toothpick in his mouth and chewed on it furiously for a few moments before spitting it out. “Just not the same. Anyone got a cigarette?”

330 flickered, and suddenly was holding a packet which she offered to Matthew. Still not showing any outward signs of surprise, he took a cigarette from the packet and lit it.

“Mr. Larsen, you said you’d quit!” Lucy said.

“Quitting only lasts as long as people aren’t pointing guns at me.”

That sentence seemed to be all Lucy had in her, and she slid to the ground, trembling slightly. I think I recognized some of the signs. Went over to her, while 330 and Matthew talked business.

“This your first time dealing with this sort of thing?” I asked.

Lucy nodded. Alright, so… what would 330 do next? …. Alright, so, what would 330 do next, other than flirting with her?

“I know it sounds weird.” Good, good, Lucy was the one doing the talking. I could listen. I’m great at listening. “This is what my job’s supposed to be about, right? I’m supposed to be used to this?” She took several breaths. Seemed to calm her down; the trembling stopped, at least. “I’ve never dealt with this! All I’ve ever done is help with investigations and cover ups! I handle the paperwork! No one’s ever shot at me before! I’ve never had to use my gun! The only reason I got this job was because of my parents! I-I-I-” No, I was wrong, she wasn’t calming down.

“Lucy!”

“Yes Mr. Larsen?”

“Did you get the plate numbers on the cars that were after us?”

“Yes Mr. Larsen!”

“Look up anything you can on those. And try to get in contact with the other agents in the city, see if they’re alright. Get rid of your phone as soon as you’re done.”

“Yes Mr. Larsen!”

Lucy’s panic disappeared as she threw herself into those orders. “I thought I could introduce her slowly to this.” Matthew said. “Make sure she only encountered low level eldritch beings, keep her out of danger, until she was ready for it. It never works out like that, does it?”

“Oh, I dunno.” 330 said. “Throwing them into the chaos can be kinda fun. Ain’t that right, Lisa?”

“I don’t recall my first run in with the supernatural being all that fun, 330.”

“Oh, come on. I got to shoot Grendel in the face! There’s nothing more fun than that!”

“I’ll have to take your word for that.”

During their discussion, Matthew and 330 had come to a course of action for us. Matthew detailed it so: “A while back, I bought a small house in the city, in case something like this happened. Completely off the records, using my own money, so it should give us a few days of safety before we’re found again.”

“You planned for the CIA to attack us?” Lucy asked.

“Not them in particular, but yes, I planned for something similar. You hafta remember kid, when I was growing up in this agency, things weren’t always as polite between everyone as they are now. We’ll get to the house, and then you,” he pointed at 330, “can explain to me why this is happening, since you seem to know a lot more than you’re telling. Then we get in touch with the people back in Washington and try to get them to call this mess off. We’ll take your car, cause I’d bet anything that ours is bugged. That clear? Good. Let’s get moving.”

-Lisa

Our hotel just exploded.

That probably needs context.


Starting from the beginning. The reservations 330 had gotten for our… oh god was that a date? That was a date wasn’t it? I went on a
Focus. Stay on topic. Okay. Okay. The reservations 330 had gotten for our… date was at a place called Alinea. It was, without any doubt, the best food I have ever eaten. And the wine…. By the time we left, walking in a straight line was a feat far beyond my abilities. During the date, I wasn’t the best conversation partner. Too overwhelmed to talk much. Wasn’t until we were heading back and I had a few glasses of alcohol in me that most of the nervousness had drained away. It was in that state that I finally was able to ask the one question that had been bugging me this entire time….

“330… what is it you see in me? You’re so amazing, and I’m… ordinary. Not even ordinary, I’m worse than ordinary. If you hadn’t come I’d still be hiding in that house, until I died.” Except much more slurred and less coherent.

She laughed, put her arm around my waist, and took a swig from the wine bottle (she’d made sure to grab an extra one before leaving.) “Cause you’re smart, and nice, and brave, and pretty….” I have no idea who this strange woman 330 seems to have confused me with is, but I want to hear more about her and her many wonderful traits. 330 turned her face away from me, looking down the road. The next sentence came out in a cracked whisper. “And you’re the only one who can understand….”

Didn’t know what she meant. Don’t know what she meant. But I could understand the tone of her voice. Hugged her; she responded not so much by hugging but by clinging to me, as if afraid I was going to vanish at any second.

The moment was ruined when the sixth story of our hotel, less than a block away by that point, erupted in a ball of flame billowing outwards.

We ran to the car immediately. No. 330 ran to the car, while dragging me. I couldn’t move my feet right to run.

Took a lot of coffee to sober up, but I managed. Right now we’re… someplace. 330 doesn’t want me to post where we are. A place with wifi.

Guess I was right about the excitement coming to us.

-Lisa

The FBI

A small door hidden in the alleyway of an office building. A light over the door, which kept flickering even though it was daytime. And the sign, “Matthew Larsen, Private Eye” at the top.

It would seem that we got lost while following Brandon’s directions and ended up in the Land of Clichés.

The first room we came into was, compared to the detective movie entrance, a bit disappointing. Reminded me of a dentist waiting room, but without the smell or all the wall pictures telling you the terrible things that will happen to your teeth if you eat anything. Even had a table with year old magazines on it. An unmarked door leading further inside. The reception desk had an African woman, maybe my age, behind it; she was intently focused on her computer screen, sound blocked out by the headphones in her ears. 330 put her hand on the desk, causing the receptionist to jump with surprise, and said, “The password is swordfish!” Then as an aside to me, in an intentionally loud whisper, “The password is always swordfish.”

The receptionist’s mouth dropped, and she stared at 330 for a long time. Then she jumped out of her chair and ran to the back room, briefly pausing when she was yanked back by the headphones she’d forgotten to take out. After she vanished into the back room, 330 and I were left feeling very confused.

“Have you met her before?” I asked.

“Maybe…? I do have a tendency to meet people in weird chronological orders….”

As we waited for… something… to happen, I peeked a glance at the computer screen to see what the receptionist had been so focused on. Some kind of game: a guy in fancy red and black sci-fi armor being shot at by other people in fancy white sci-fi armor. Without anyone to play, the guy didn’t last long before a game over screen came up.

The receptionist returned a few minutes later, leading another man into the room. Grey hair, a stubble across his face, and a disheveled suit; all that was needed to complete the picture would have been a cigarette dangling from his mouth, but instead he was chewing on a toothpick. So… not entirely in Cliché Land, but still pretty close.

“Yeah?” He said.

“I’m I-330.”

“…. Did the doctor screw up when typing your birth certificate or did your parents hate you enough to call you that?”

The girl pulled him closer and whispered something in his ear. “Alright, so Lucy here tells me that apparently you’re some kind of big deal.” He said when she finished. “Some kind of supernatural fighting adventurer.” The girl, Lucy, whispered to him again. “Right, some kind of immortal supernatural fighting adventurer. Right. What do you want with us?”

“You’re with the FBI’s paranormal branch?”

He rolled the toothpick around his mouth. “One of ‘em, yeah. What’s it to you?”

“We’ve gotten… involved… in one of the paranormal CIA group’s actions, but the trail we had on them’s been cold for a long time now. You’re the closest we have to a lead.”

Took the toothpick out of his mouth. “Let me get this straight. You want me to give classified information about another government agency to some random woman who walked in here?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.”

“You’re one crazy broad.” Do real people actually use the word broad?

Lucy jumped into the conversation. “But Mr. Larsen, have you seen the file we have on her at headquarters? She’s like the highlander Indiana Jones of our field!”

“Well if I run into any Nazis I’ll be sure to let her know. But right now I have no plans of handing out state secrets to anyone who walks through our door.” Then to us, “Sorry I can’t help you, but you’ll need to find your leads somewhere else.” He returned to his back room.

Looked like a dead end for us. “That didn’t work,” I said. “Now what?”

330 held up a finger for me to wait, and nodded towards Lucy, who was staring at the door Larsen had exited through. She seemed to be thinking about something. When she came to a decision, she said to 330, “I get off at 6. Meet me out front.”

“Sounds fun, but…” 330 pulled me from my observer’s spot to her side, “I’m already taken. Thanks for the offer, though.” Oh god 330, do you take pleasure in causing me to blush this much….

Lucy’s jaw dropped. “N-no, that’s… that’s… n-n-not what I, what I meant by-”

“I know what you mean; I was just messing with you. We’ll see you then.”

330 went right out the door; I stayed to apologize for causing Lucy to lose at her game.

“My what?”

“On the computer.”

The events that had happened seem to have temporarily made her forget, but when I triggered the memory, she yelped and tried to make it to her computer chair in a single leap. Which caused her to knock over everything she’d had on that desk. I stayed even longer to help her clean up.

“Sorry for causing you to jump like that….”
“No, I was just being clumsy….”
“If we hadn’t interrupted you….”

Eventually 330 had to come in and put an end to my apologizing, lest I stay there forever.

The few hours we had to kill before meeting Lucy were mostly spend laughing about the encounter.
“Did he seriously call you a broad?”

“I know, right? I haven’t been called that in decades! And using a private eye business as a cover!”

“He even looked like he’d walked out of a black and white film!”

Then 330 had to drop the bombshell of, “Oh, and by the way, I got us reservations for dinner next week. Should make up for that drink you asked me to buy you.”

Wait, what, I hadn’t been serious when I said that, and even if I had I’d been thinking a bar, what kind of bars need reservations, 330 I have questions and oh no you’re about to suddenly change the subject just as I’m getting the first syllable out of my mouth aren’t you….

“Wha-”

“Hey, almost six. We need to go back and meet with Lucy.” Dammit 330!

It was a few minutes after six when we arrived, and Lucy was already waiting for us. Looked kinda nervous, glancing around the street, wringing her hands. Made me paranoid watching her, until I also started glancing around.

“Hey there!” 330 called out. “Now what is it you wanted to talk to us about?”

Lucy opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. Tried again, only sound was a small squeak.

“Yes?” 330 said.

Lucy’s words came out in a rush. “IhadapicturerofyouonmywalluntilIwastwenty!”

“…. That’s new. I never knew I came in poster form.”

“No, that’s not… that’s not what I wanted to tell you, I mean, I… um….”

“I know, I know. Just relax. Though I am curious to know about this picture thing.”

“That? Oh. Um. Both my parents worked in paranormal government branches. I was raised on stories about raids on evil cults, uncovering Fear plots, and… um… stories about the mysterious adventurer, I-330….”

Wow. She’s only slightly less nervous talking to 330 than I was at first. I’m thankful 330 has the patience to put up with our type….

“Must have been an interesting childhood. But now that we’ve gotten that established, why don’t you tell us why you met us here.”

“Oh, right. I’m Lucy Parsons. I… think I might be able to help you. Tell you what I know.”

“Aren’t you worried about your boss finding out?” I asked.

“What, Mr. Larsen? He probably knows I’m talking to you. He’ll give me a lecture that I’m too trusting when he sees me tomorrow, but that’s all.”

We walked down the sidewalk as Lucy talked to us. Officially, there weren’t any paranormal branches of the CIA in Chicago; politics and departmental conflicts had left the city as FBI territory. However….
“Something’s changing. A lot of the people we used to work with are getting transferred away without replacements. There’s less than a dozen of us to cover the whole state right now. And the funding we’re supposed to be getting from Washington keeps getting ‘misplaced.’ On top of that, we keep hearing news about possible Fear activity.”

“What sort of activity?” 330 asked.

“There was a big Slender Man attack earlier in the month. Most of it’s been much quieter, though. Disappearances, or people acting strangely. The private detective cover’s good for keeping an ear to that kind of news. Mr. Larsen keeps sending reports to Washington saying that something’s going on here, but the response is always to carry on as normal.”

“And what’re your thoughts on this?”

“I think… I don’t want to say this, but I think someone inside Washington is interfering. And a while ago, we found the body of a CIA agent in the city, killed by the Rake.” Oh yeah, that. “Before his people came in and took the body back from us, we found a key to a safehouse on it. One inside the city. Which means that they’re starting to unofficially move back in, now that we’re too understaffed to stop them.”

Some gears had been turning in my head for a while. “Thos disappearances… the ones you think are caused by the Fears. Might not just be a coincidence.” I said. Lucy seemed surprise; possibly because she had completely forgotten I was there. It can get hard to compete with 330’s presence. “Lupine’s used monsters to his advantage before. There were those shadow things in the bunker… and they intentionally sent someone the Rake was stalking after us. The disappearances might have a stronger connection than it seems….” Looked to 330, half expecting her to tell me that was a stupid idea. Instead, she nodded.

“It’ll be something to look into. Thanks for the advice, Lucy. We’ll keep in touch.”

So now we kind have a plan. Ish. We know something’s happening in the city. How we’re going to investigate it… I’ll leave that to 330. Though my attempts to ask her questions regarding the investigation haven’t come up with much, making me worry that her whole plan might just consist of us sitting around and waiting for something exciting to happen.

Which, given the tendency for spontaneous adventure when around her, might not be that bad a plan.

-Lisa

“Hey Lisa, I found where the Noctis safehouse is.”

“How?”

“Time Travel.”

“That… doesn’t explain anything.”

“Yeah, well, time to put that book down, we’re heading out.”

Of course my next question was why we were going to the safehouse. 330’s response was that the Noctis, being a group who kept tabs on Slender activity, probably has had its share of encounters with other secret groups. Which makes them the best chance of finding out if the CIA’s up to anything in the area.

The downside to this plan is that after our interruption of their exchange, the Noctis here just means Brandon. And I doubt he’s very happy with us.

The safehouse turned out to be surprisingly close, within walking distance. Another apartment, located in a complex that looked as if it had been designed to be as bland as possible. Perfect disguise, I guess.

The door cracked open slightly after 330 knocked on it, and I saw an eye peeking through before it was slammed shut. 330 sighed. “Always gotta be done the hard way….” She vanished, and a second later I heard Brandon shouting from inside. The door was opened, and 330 came out, leading Brandon by the arm.

“Let go of me!” He pulled out of her hand.

“Brandon, we need to ask-” Brandon hit her in the face, but she continued. “…you some questions. Or at least let us look at any notes the Noctis may have been keeping-” He hit her again.

“She’s dead because of you!” Brandon’s eyes were growing wet. “Because you stopped our exchange, she tried to use herself as the sacrifice, and… and….”

He completely broke down. On his hands and knees, body shaking, tears hitting the ground.

“She was the only one who took me in. She taught me how to deal with this. We were doing fine until you came and messed everything up, and now she’s gone and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Dealing with other people crying was a skill I’d never got a chance to learn. Don’t think 330 knew how to either. Unsure of what to do, we both stood on the side awkwardly and watched this kid being wracked with grief. Maybe there was something I could have said, but nothing came to mind. All I could think of would probably just have made it worse….

Eventually, the crying lessened, and he calmed down enough to speak. “Why did you come here?” I could barely hear him.

“We were hoping that you had been keeping track of any other Slender Man groups around. Specifically government ones.”

Brandon shook his head. “No… not really. I mean, I ran into FBI people every once in a while, doing cleanup after some of our exchanges, but we never kept track of it….”

“FBI? Close enough. Do you know where we can find them?”

Brandon told us the address. It was further on the edges of the city; we’d need to take the car to get there. As we were going to leave, Brandon spoke again.

“I sometimes wondered if we were doing the right thing… sacrificing those people…. But it seemed like the only way…. Would things have been different if you’d never come? Would she still be alive if we’d gone through with the exchange like normal?”

330 didn’t stop to answer him. I hesitated, but again my mind was blank for a response. Quickly followed 330 away.

We’re going to be checking out this FBI place soon now. See if they know anything.

-Lisa

The Next Day

Woke up at 2 PM with the worst hangover of my life. I’m amazed I managed to drink that much.

When the headache started to subside, memory punched me in the gut. Considered going back and seeing how much was left in the mini-bar, but unfortunately, I hadn’t left enough to drown out the bodies from my head a second time. Plus I needed a clearer mind to figure out what I was going to do about 330.

A few hours later I’d built up the resolve to knock on the suite door to her room. No answer. Oh well, she’s not home, guess I’ll just go and… um… do something?
It was evening when I finally opened the door. The room was just as much a mess as the day before. I feel sorry for the cleaning staff who has to deal with this chaos. No 330, though.

Where could she have gone? Well, she’s a time traveler, so… anywhere. Great.

Went out into the city, and started walking. Might have been a coincidence. Or fate. Or just my subconscious leading me. But I ended up at the exchange spot from yesterday. The bus and Miss Sieppe’s body were both gone. That, or they were still there and I could no longer see them. Not the happiest of thoughts.

The street was mostly empty. Or at least as empty as Chicago can get. It was late, after all. Looked further down the street, and saw 330. She was sitting on the curb, staring at the space where the bus had been. Hadn’t looked at me, so I wasn’t sure whether or not she knew I was there. Well… now or never.

Took a deep breath, and walked to her. She still didn’t react. Sat down, facing away from her so our backs were touching. She flinched when she felt me. Okay. Made it this far. Now what was I supposed to do?

“I’m sorry.” Phew, she was the one talking. “I shouldn’t have acted like that last night.”

Tried to think of how I was supposed to be reassuring. Unfortunately, the only role models I have for confidence are I-330 and the Doctor (who 330 is acting like half the time anyways,) which doesn’t help me when I’m trying to be confident for 330. “It was crazy for all of us. I shouldn’t have panicked and ran out on you like that.”

“I was stupid.” She said. “Trying to play the hero again. Thinking I could save them all. I knew it wouldn’t work. Still, I couldn’t help but hoping. That maybe this time, it would work. That the monster would let us go or something. Stupid.”

“Don’t say that. You did the best you could.”

“Ha.”

I didn’t want to continue this line of conversation. Thinking about how people who didn’t have to die did so because we tried to interfere… I don’t want to dwell on that any more than I have to. So I changed the subject. “So, um, about that kiss….” I’m glad we weren’t facing each other. She couldn’t see how red my face was.

She flinched again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it was-”

“I’d understand if-”

“330, it’s oka-”

“I just lost control of myself, and wasn’t thinking about what you thought or what…”

“330….”

“…you were going through, I just forced myself on you, and you must hate me now…”

“330…!”

“… I’m the worst there is, I’m a monster, I’m no better than-“

“330!” She finally turned to look at me, letting me shut her up. I’d say kiss, but it was more me clumsily ramming my face towards hers in the vague hope that our lips met in the same general area. Can’t say how long we were like that, since I don’t remember much until I heard, “Mommy, why are those two girls kissing?” “Just keep walking dear.”

Sudden embarrassment, coupled with the realization that I was in public, and I broke off. 330 looked more shocked than anything else.

“Okay, I have no idea what’s supposed to happen next.” I said to her. “So I’m going to need some help here.”

She laughed, still not looking entirely recovered from the surprise. “Um. I guess you don’t hate me? Okay, that’s good.”

“No. I really don’t. How long have you… you know… in me… been… um….”

“Roughly? Since several months from now.”

“What?”

“Time travel. It’s a long story.”

“You mean you-”

“A long story.”

It wasn’t that funny, but I started laughing, and couldn’t stop. 330 started as well; this whole scene we’d drawn ourselves into almost didn’t seem real. At least not for me. Never imagined I’d end up in something like this. Seems odder than going on adventures with a time traveler, honestly.

“Where do we go from here?” 330 asked. Dammit, I was hoping she’d be the one who knew what to do, because I sure didn’t.

Went through my memory trying to find something I could use to help me with that question. Finally settled on that line 330 had used back when we met the Masons. “Try buying me a drink and we’ll see.”

That got a smile from her. “Deal. But first, we’ve got to clean up the mess we’ve made here.”


So… um… yeah. That happened.

-Lisa

The Exchange

Okay. Try to calm down. Third time I’ve tried writing this. I think my hands have stopped shaking enough to type now.

As per our plan, I had to get Arnold, and make sure nothing happened to him, while 330 stopped the exchange by stealing the bus the Noctis were transporting their sacrifices on. I’d been given a pistol “Just in case,” though I was hoping I wouldn’t need to use it.

Panicked the whole drive to where 330 had told me Arnold’s apartment was. What was I supposed to do when I got there? Break in and grab the kid? Politely knock on the door and try to explain the situation to the parents? Create a distraction and somehow get Arnold away in the confusion?

Politeness won out in the end. Don’t think I’d be capable of kidnapping anyway.

Knocked twice on their door, waited. No response, so two more knocks. Arnold opened the door.

“Hi, um, are your parents home?”

He just stared at me for a while, long enough to make me start feeling uncomfortable. When he did speak, it was in complete monotone. “The tall man came and took them away.”

There the Slender Man was, standing inside the apartment. A wind roared around it, throwing toys, newspapers, dishes, everything into the air. Yet through the chaos, it remained stoically still, suit unruffled and pale head reaching above it all. 330’s training kicked in: I pulled out my gun and fired several shots at it. Can’t say if any hit. My eyes were closed as I was pulling the trigger.

Even if one did hit, didn’t seem to have any effect on the Slender Man. I grabbed Arnold by the hand and ran to the street. He didn’t resist, letting me pull him along freely. I should have gone to the car, but I was so panicked that I forgot about it.

The streets we ran to were completely empty of people. Not even a single car drove by. Middle of the day, in the city of Chicago, and there was no one outside. Soon a fog overtook us, making it impossible to see where we were running to. We ran down block after block, with no idea where we were going.

Crossed another street, and it was standing in front of us, black form looming through the fog. Stopped, turned around, and tried running the other way. Only a few minutes passed until it was in front of us again.

Those few times I’d seen it watching me before were nothing compared to this. It was different here. When that eyeless gaze focused on me, for the only time since the day I first saw it, I felt as though it was actually looking at me. Something vaster than I could imagine had focused the entirety of its attention on me. I was a grain of dust floating through space, being watched by a star. I aimed my gun at it and tried to fire. The Slender Man twitched its head slightly, and the pistol turned into mist that melted in with the fog. I grasped at the empty air, for some reason thinking I could get the gun back. Arnold started to walk towards it, but I grabbed him and held him back. And it still stood across from us, unmoving. Tall. Proud. Terrible.

My legs started to bend on their own. I tried to fight the movement, but they were being controlled by a will stronger than mine. You can’t fight against your own body. Soon I was on one knee before the thing. Next my head began to move down. Kept trying to fight it, keeping my eyes on that blank face, but I couldn’t control my muscles anymore. Head was bowed, completing my submissive stance.

With my eyes down like that, I couldn’t see Arnold anymore. I heard his footsteps, moving away from me and towards the Slender Man. A long silence. Through it I tried to look up to see what was happening, but it wasn’t going to let me move an inch.

The sensation that I had control of my limbs again hit me suddenly. Quickly stood up and looked around. The Slender Man was gone. Arnold lay where it had stood, chest ripped open and organs removed. Yet he was smiling….

Almost vomited when I saw the body. Walked a few steps away from it, then I did vomit. Tears came too. I didn’t know him, really. Just that he was a kid named Arnold. But he was still just a kid. One who’d been murdered only a few feet away from me as I bowed to the killer.

Suddenly I was struck with a panic. 330. Was 330 okay? I ran in the direction I thought the meeting point was supposed to be. The fog made it nearly impossible to see anything. Didn’t pay attention to how long I ran. Didn’t even had a direction in mind. Just the hope that I’d find her somewhere in the fog.

Somehow I did. The bus 330 was hijacking was parked in the middle of an empty street. And… the roof had been completely sheared off. I saw 330 next, leaning against the side of the bus. Ran to her and hugged her, babbling relief to find her alive. She didn’t respond, not even to look at me. Her only movement was a slight trembling.

“330? Are you okay?”

“I couldn’t stop it.” She whispered. She said it again. Then again. Over and over, whispering those four words.

Hoping for an explanation, I looked inside the bus. It was…. Everyone inside was dead. Torn to pieces. I’d already thrown up everything in my stomach, but that didn’t stop the dry heaving when I saw the carnage.

Stepped back out of the bus as the wind roared to life. I looked up and saw the Slender Man again, standing on the roof of a two story building. The fog made the building nearly invisible, but it and its suit still appeared so strongly, contrasting everything around it. Black tentacles were coming out of its back, writhing and twisting. Several were holding something in front of it, which it carefully lowered to the ground. When the tentacles pulled back, I ran over to see what they’d dropped. It… it was Miss Sieppe. She wasn’t breathing, but there were no wounds on her. The only sign that something was wrong was a trickle of blood coming from her mouth.

It disappeared and the fog lifted. People began walking down the sidewalk again and cars drove down the road. No one noticed the bodies or the wrecked bus. Pedestrians trampled over Sieppe’s corpse as cars calmly drove around the bus.

330 had stopped her mantra, but still was unresponsive. I had to gently guide her to a taxi, and then back to her room in the hotel. She stood in the center of the room without moving for a long time. Nothing I said made her react. Then… she screamed. Roared. She grabbed a chair and smashed it through the room’s television. Tore the pillows apart. Threw a lamp against a wall. She rampaged across the room, destroying everything she could get her hands on. She never touched me, but during the moment I was terrified.

330 only stopped when there was nothing left to destroy. Once more she stood in the room’s center, her head facing the floor and her shoulders shaking. Might have heard her sob once. Or maybe it was my imagination. I put a hand on her shoulder, trying to think of something to say. She spun around, grabbed me, and I got a brief glimpse of tears on her face before… before she kissed me. Then I was being pushed against a wall, with 330 alternating between sobbing and hungrily kissing me. I tried getting out of her embrace, but she clung to me even tighter, muttering, “Don’t leave me please you can’t leave me,” before the tears drowned it out.

More panic, I finally broke out of her grip and ran to my room…. Why would she do that, was she is she why would she anyone be interested in me I don’t even like girls, I don’t think so I’ve never been in a relationship Father never let me, I never actually thought about that okay fine that’s a lie I have thought about it she’s hot there I said it but I never actually considered it still why would she what do I do how am I supposed to be reacting I don’t but can’t just


Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. I’m not calming down. Writing isn’t helping this. People are dead, 330’s gone crazy, and I can’t deal with this. I’m going to break open the mini-bar and see how long it takes before I pass out.

-Lisa