As of starting this post, it is 12.45.
Just warning you, this is definitely not my best work.
Who the Hero and his friend are is up to you. They could be Zero and Amelia, but then again they could be someone else. I left the pronouns neutral for that purpose.
Chester's been being awfully good about my craziness today. At least I'm holding still long enough for hugs now.
Right. Here goes...
All things come to an end, eventually. The good and the bad. No matter how long they last, they eventually end.
He had gone too far, infected too many, and now there were enough to rise against Him. A force that was mighty in it’s unity. The victims took up arms and brought forth a Hero.
The Hero, feeling the weight of their expectations, their wishes, of the hundreds who had suffered and who’s hopes rested upon them, hefted their sword and went forth, determined to break the hold the monster had on so many lives.
They travelled, seeking to find where the monster was at His weakest. They spoke to all kinds of people, those who were slowly losing their minds, runners, fighters, those who chose to remain in their homes. They went to many different places, the scenery constantly changing but the message remaining the same- He could be killed. The monster had a weakness. One day they’d be free.
It passes through their ranks, starting as a whisper…
The Solstice, The Lunar Eclipse, the Hero…
Now was the time to act.
It was cold, even for winter. The landscape was almost too quiet but for two silhouettes, standing in the open, staring defiantly at the treeline. The smaller of the two figures hissed a curse, shivering slightly, and peered into the leaves.
“Would it be too much to hope for them to give themselves up?” they suggested, drawing their heavy winter coat around them and hunching their shoulders.
The reply took a while to come, and when it did it was flat, the tone brooking no argument. “Yes. If I know anything about proxies, they’re determined.”
The duo waited, seconds turning to minutes turning to hours, more of their number arriving alone or in pairs, before there was a sound like the sky splitting in two and a swarm of proxies burst out of the leaves. They were all masked, the majority of them wearing the traditional “ToTheArk” mask, others wearing comedy or tragedy masks, some in hallowe’en masks, wielding a variety of weapons. They outnumbered the fighters a hundred to one.
The first two to arrive exchanged looks. One pulled a sword out of a sheath by it’s side, the other, smaller figure a gun. Together, they dived into the fray.
At first, it seemed fruitless, as the proxies were just as well armed as they were and had the advantage of numbers, until one person, no-one could recall who, grabbed a Proxy’s mask and pulled it off.
The proxy froze, stunned, like he could not quite believe what he was seeing. Heartened by this, one of the fighters yelled the discovery at the top of his lings before incapacitating another proxy and demasking it as well.
It did not take long before a large group of shellshocked, dull-eyed proxies congregated a short way off, staring blankly into the distance.
The sword-wielder took a heavy blow to the gut from a proxy wielding a rake of all things with brutal efficiency and stumbled into the forest, hitting a tree with a nasty thud that made their head spin. Straightening up, they spotted the fight through a gap in the trees and went to rejoin it, only to find a familiar figure blocking their path.
The Slender Man shifted slightly, illuminated by the sliver of moon not yet covered by the Earth’s shadow. The swordsman bared his teeth in a wide grin and charged.
“I’m not scared of you.” They gritted out from between clenched teeth, slashing at the Slender Man’s unguarded face.
It raised one of it’s arms, slowly, almost ponderously, then lashed out. The figure winced as tentacle cut through layers of clothing to the flesh beneath, clenched the hilt of their sword so hard that their knuckles went white. The Slender Man stood as if it hadn’t moved at all, a cut across it’s face oozing mist.
The next sentence came out in a vicious, raspy hiss. “Fuck you. You’re finished.”
The Hero grinned, raised the sword once again and charged, aiming for the torso, also unguarded-
“Here goes nothing.”
There was a terrible, visceral scream, a scream that no living thing ought to be able to make, and the world went dark.
Their voices, the voices of many, the victims that had become an army-
One voice departed-
As it faded, like a whisper on the wind-
“You’re just a nightmare.
We’re waking up.”
Chester here. It's 5.30 pm as of writing this. I had to type out the last 50 words or so because Vieve passed out. I don't think she got much sleep last night, so it's no surprise that she's dozed off. I'm trying to figure out how to go make myself some hot chocolate without disturbing her since she's gone to sleep using me as a pillow. Note. Cuddling Vieve is good, but if she shows signs of getting sleepy you might want to shift around so you can move away if you need to because when she's asleep I swear she's a lot heavier than she is awake.
Again...good luck, everyone. I have known you for such a short time and it would be regrettable if that time ended today. Everyone...please survive.