Drapetomania | Creepypasta

24.

As I sketched the symbol in my notebook and meticulously documented its appearances in the text, a sense of unease crept over me. It was as if this symbol held a deeper significance, a key to understanding the enigma of Slenderman and his realm.

Lost in my research, I failed to notice the passage of time, the fading light outside the window signaling the approaching evening. My fascination with Slenderman's history had consumed me, but a soft knock on my door broke the spell.

Startled, I closed the book and tucked my notes away, the symbol of the eight-spoked wheel lingering in my thoughts. I called out hesitantly, "Who's there?"

The door creaked open, revealing Clockwork, the same girl who had provided me with the change of clothes. Her face still held an air of guarded uncertainty, but there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes. She gestured to a tray she held, bearing a simple meal of soup and bread.

"Slenderman thought you might be hungry," she explained, setting the tray on my desk. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant.

"Thank you," I replied, a mixture of gratitude and apprehension in my tone. The strange kindness of these beings, juxtaposed with their ominous presence, continued to baffle me.

Clockwork lingered for a moment, as if contemplating words left unsaid. Then, with a slight nod, she turned to leave, pausing in the doorway. "If you need anything else, just... let one of us know," she offered

Just as Clockwork was about to leave, I couldn't let the opportunity pass. I called her name softly, "Clockwork." She turned back, her expression curious.

"Do you... do you know anything about this symbol?" I asked, pointing to the sketch I had made in my notebook—the eight-spoked wheel that seemed to hold significance in Slenderman's lore.

Clockwork approached my desk, her eyes narrowing as she studied the symbol. It was as if she recognized it but wasn't entirely sure. She spoke slowly, her words hesitant, "I've seen it before, but I don't know much about it. It's old, like something from ancient times. Slenderman might know more."

Her response left me with more questions than answers, but it was a start. I nodded, acknowledging her attempt to help, and she left my room, leaving me alone once again to contemplate the mysteries of this bizarre world.

With Clockwork's departure, I returned to my notes and the book of Slender lore. The symbol remained a perplexing enigma, a puzzle piece in a much larger picture that I was only beginning to understand.

Hours passed as I delved deeper into the pages of the book. I learned about ancient rituals, mysterious disappearances, and the unsettling connection between Slenderman and the symbol. It was said to be a symbol of power, a mark that bound those who bore it to the enigmatic figure. I couldn't help but feel a shiver down my spine as I read about its implications.

As my pen danced across the notebook, jotting down every detail, I couldn't ignore the fact that I was becoming entangled in something far more profound than I had ever imagined. Slenderman's history was rich and chilling, filled with accounts of those who had crossed his path and paid the price.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice the passage of time until a soft, hesitant knock on my door disrupted my concentration. Startled, I closed the book and placed it aside, my heart pounding as I called out, "Who's there?" feeling a sense of deja vu.