Slender Brothers Origin Story

Blessings

A/N: I'm doing 'creator' because it's about as neutral as I can make things in terms of religion. Since a lot of stories have Slender of German Origin I wanted to stick close to that. Christianity is the main practice so that's why it's creator and not creators as they believe in one God.

Ivy groans in pain when she gains consciousness again, working to push herself up off the ground and to her feet. Her legs are shaky as she works to balance with her sudden height, stumbling a few steps. She looks down at her arms, panicking when she feels her face move but not her eyes. She brings her hands to her face and feels over it, pressing a little. It seemed everything was still there but it was as if she had something over her face. She could see and hear and smell just fine despite this though. She stumbles to the downstairs bathroom in the house and looks in the mirror, screaming and stumbling back from the shock. What was she?! What the hell?! Was she dreaming?! Dead maybe?! She holds her head in her hands as she tries to focus, her head snapping up before she runs out her open door.

"IDA! EMILIA!" She shouts, running through a now town now nothing more than cinders. "Come on babies! It's okay! Mommy's here!"

She just runs through the destroyed town, freezing when she sees three lone figures on the path. She screams in agony when she comes to Ida's body first, falling to her knees and gathering her baby in her arms.

"No! NOOO!" She sobs as she clings to her daughter, sobbing into her dress.

She fumbles to her feet and stumbles forward to Emilia, gasping when weird snake like appendages pick up Emilia. Ivy freezes and follows the black tendrils only to find them attached to her body. She doesn't bother to wonder about this as she's running forward again, getting to Eva's body. She falls to her knees and hugs all three of her girls to her chest, rocking back and forth as she just cries. Her voice goes hoarse from screaming but there was no one to hear her anguished cries. The town had been slaughtered and destroyed. All of it except for her. She lost everything except her own life. Was there really a creator out there?! Why had they cursed her like this?! Why didn't they kill her too?! She cries until her eyes run dry, heaving in breath as she clings to the lifeless bodies of her daughter's.

When she can't cry anymore she finally gets to her feet, carrying her daughters back home. She sniffles and takes them upstairs. She gets them out of their dirty clothes and into clean dresses. Then she brushes and does their hair. When her little girls are ready Ivy takes one of Donovan's hammers and begins attacking the sides of the house. The wood splinters under the wood and she creates a pile in the middle of her yard. She grabs the kitchen table and drags it outside, breaking the legs so it lays flat on top of the wood. Then she goes back inside and gets her daughters. She lays them on the table before collecting wildflowers. She surrounds her daughters with flowers before she steps back, grabbing a match and lighting it, saying a prayer over her babies.

"Heavenly Creator, my words are not sufficient enough to express my sorry over the loss of these lives. I want to believe you are in control and have my previous babies in your arms right now. I need my heart to know that when I cannot fathom the grief of this loss that you are present. Your heart breaks with mine, so I know you feel the pain I experience. Loss of life is devastating but this has shattered my once full heart. The hopes and dreams experienced watching your children grow are now nothing more. But, I am thankful you know every ounce of my grief, every part of my fractured soul, every piece of my broken life. Please comfort me, Creator. I don't know how to accept that this has happened. Please wrap your loving arms around me and let me come to your kingdom soon."

Ivy drops the match and flames engulf her daughters, tears falling down her cheeks all over again. She sits by the fire for hours, watching the flames devour her life. When everything is nothing more than cinders she grabs three glass bottles. She fills each with ashes from her daughters, wrapping each one in the small baby blankets she had sewn for each of them before she collects the rest of the ash in buckets. She takes their ashes down to the lake and spreads them there, wishing them safe passage home. Once she has let go of the last of it she returns. She gathers the wrapped jars and packs a bag, silent as she leaves her hometown behind. She walks to the forest, holding the bottles in her arms to keep hugging her babies as she walks.