The Sand Man held you prisoner for another four days. He was not always kind, but his methods were far less barbarous than Zalgo's. Dreams and nightmares riddled your slumber. Despite all this, you endured solid sleep.
As soon as you woke up from a pee dream, you rolled out of bed and dashed to the bathroom. The door was locked. This was unacceptable. You knocked, the sound of urgency accompanying each thump.
"Fuck off," was the reply. You recognized the voice belonging to Jeff the Killer. "The other ones are occupied, too."
Your throat swelled with the hollow hiss that escaped it. "Get out of there before I break this door down and piss on your lap."
Silence.
Then, the rushed rustling of fabrics and a toilet flush. Just audibly enough for you to hear, Jeff grumbled some sour complaints in your direction. The door rattled and opened, revealing a more-than-irritated Jeff staring you down. His dark-rimmed eyes studied your face, searching for any weakness to your bluff. His thin lips cracked open to speak, but you didn't give him the time, pushing past and not even bothering to wait for Jeff to close the door behind him.
"Oh, gross," he gagged as you hurriedly lowered your pajama pants and underwear for the porcelain throne.
Just before Jeff could pull the door shut, you countered his disgust with, "You're one to talk." Not the best of insults, but you knew what you meant. Right now, you were more focused on the ecstasy of a relieving bladder.
You took another shower, feeling the same grimy sensations as the last time you awoke. Pajamas slipped off, water turned on, and you stole a glance of your reflection. At first, you stepped toward the shower, but then the unfamiliar image of yourself finally registered in your mind. You turned back to the mirror, stared at yourself again, and closed in on the reflection with disbelief written all over your new face.
Most of your human appearance remained, but your face had suffered considerable change. Your scar of three slashes on your cheek was still there, now decorated with a blended mix of skin and scales. There were other markings on your face - light scars from Zalgo's torture - that looked to be fading away with time. Your jaws and cheekbones seemed noticeably wider, but not grotesquely. Your irises, while still harboring your original colors, were now trimmed with the serpent-wolf's bright, golden hues. Lastly, your hair roots were breaching with void-dark strands - black as a new moon night. You wouldn't have noticed them if you weren't already running your fingers over the small, silver scales that traced your hairline. The scales faded into your skin, rather than covering the entirety of your body. All-in-all, you actually looked pretty darn cool.
A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Then, you twirled around and entered the shower. There, you further examined the new features on your body. Things seemed longer and slender; not so much that it was obvious, but you felt the difference enough to question if this was still your original body. Needless to say, it certainly was your original body, but it felt as though something was trying to take it over.
During your refreshing shower, you ran your tongue throughout the reachable crevasses of your mouth. You searched for unfamiliar features, two of which you had already known about, but now they had changed again. A pair of fangs ran parallel with the roof of your mouth. The bases of them bulged and reached to the row of your original teeth. There, you discovered four of those teeth were missing: the canines and two smaller incisors. All that was left between the fangs were the two large incisors. Your bottom row seemed unfazed.
As you washed and ran your hands over your body, you found further decoration of silvery scales in symmetrical areas: hips, thighs, ankles, ribs, shoulders, elbows, and wrists. The particular areas would make decent armor, though the scales were nothing that you expected a dragon to have. Still, snake scales were durable in their own way.
Lastly, you noticed your fingernails. They had grown a noticeable length since the last time you had examined them. What had grown between now and then looked to be thicker and much more opaque. You weren't too fond of the yellow tint, but it wasn't a distasteful shade of nail fungus. Maybe, after some further nurturing, you could have a formidable set of claws. The idea had you zealous of the possibilities.
Brushing your teeth was a new experience - not that you hadn't ever done it before. Each time you opened your mouth, the new set of fangs would flex to a vertical position. They were just long enough to sweep forward and over your bottom lip. This was also the moment, upon further testing the mechanics of your fangs, when you discovered the elasticity of your lips and face. Your jaws were able to spread far wider than normal, too. Part of you wondered if this would imply later cravings of whole foods - and you weren't meaning the expensive, organic, grocery stores. The idea sent shivers throughout your epidermis, unsure if you could ever get used to swallowing something that shouldn't otherwise fit down your throat.
After finishing up in the bathroom, you returned to your bedroom to discover a new set - replicas - of your Proxy uniform. You dressed into it; mask and all. The kitchen was your next destination.
You ate - everything; anything you could find; ready-to-eat or raw. You were hungry, to say the least. The transformations in your body had used a large amount of nutrients, and it was starving for replacements. Luckily, for everyone else, you were alone in the kitchen. The primitive instincts to ward off any competition for food stood guard. Eyeless Jack would probably pick a fight about his loss of kidney stock, but you didn't care.
The solitude didn't last long, however.
In the midst of crunching through a box of frozen waffles on the floor, Ticci Toby discovered your rampage. His demeanor quickly fell to an air of distraught nearly as soon as he laid eyes on you. "My waffles," he pouted. "I was looking f-forward to th-those!"
At first, you had the urge to threaten and fend off your fellow Proxy, but you turned against yourself and suppressed the hostile feeling. There were a couple of waffles left in the box, though they had relatively thawed out into a semi-soggy matter. You swatted the box across the tile flooring in some effort of apology. The one in your mouth was already claimed.
Toby stared at the opened box for a few moments, then shrugged his shoulders and picked it up. "I've eaten w-worse," he tried to make light of the situation. The toaster was near you, sitting on the kitchen counter with no current purpose. Toby was glad to give it one: toast his waffles. "They're better t-t-oa. . . hot, you know," he popped the damp disks into the toaster and set it on high. You responded with a single grunt, followed by the thorough licking of your fingers. Finally, your stomach felt full - and good timing, too, seeing as there was nothing left in the kitchen.
"So," Toby began, "Slenderman s-sai. . . d you would be. . .be going through mood s-swings for a while. D-did you. . . Did. . . start your period again?" He immediately flinched at the sudden whip of your head and stream of daggers that spewed from your eyes.
"Look at me!" You pointed for emphasis, closing in on Toby to help his now questionable vision. "Do I look like I'm just on my period?" You were ready to claw his stupid face off, but that, in a way, would only prove Toby's point. You backed off, shrinking at your outburst. "I'm turning into a monster," tears brimmed your eyes. Earlier, you were excited with the new features, but now things were setting in - the mood swings, the looks, the animalistic personality. You weren't sure if you would adjust to it all. "I barely knew myself as a human, only to be turned into a Proxy, and now that I was starting to figure things out as a Proxy, I've turned into a Creepypasta hybrid."
"Sounds like some s-serious puber. . .ty malfunction," Toby leaned on the counter. He was rewarded with another daring glare. "I'm not. . . wr-wrong."
You knew he was right. In some loose obscurity, you were going through a Creepypasta form of puberty. Bodily changes, moods and personality swings, and even the odd attraction to an inhuman being. Going through human puberty was already a drag, but this made it ten times worse, save for the cool new abilities.
The toaster sprung with two freshly crisped waffles. Toby immediately snatched them both, pulled down his striped mask, and began scarfing the baked goods down. No butter, no syrup. He didn't want to risk you stealing them away.
"____," Slenderman's voice broke the kitchen's silence. He was standing in the doorway, still as a tree on a windless day. "Come with me," he commanded. You didn't bother challenging his authority. There was a war within your mind on whether or not you would accept the new you, or detest it.
Slenderman lead you to the meeting room. There, three other beings, who shared your master's appearance, stood in waiting. One, you recognized as Sexual-Offenderman. The other two, you hadn't met until this moment; one with no face, yet wore glasses, and dressed with gaudy-classy attire, the other had dark, empty orifices for his eyes and mouth, and dressed in a suit and top hat, all decoured with colorful polka-dots. Slenderman had mentioned having other brothers, so these were most likely them. You wondered the point of your presence for this five-person meeting.
Closing the door behind him, Slenderman took his place in the circle and began, "____ has seen Zalgo's territory. She's seen his minions and the majority of his numbers. We need this information," he paused, hesitant of his next words, "for war."
The one with glasses spoke first, "I think we can all agree that we're protective of our Proxies, but why does her," he pointed an accusing finger in your direction, "misfortune warrant a declaration of war? We've all lost Proxies to Zalgo."
"You were there when Zalgo's minions crossed the border and ambushed my Proxies," Sexual-Offenderman growled, "but no war was started when one of mine was killed."
"This isn't about revenge for ____," Slenderman intervened before anyone else could share their opinions on the matter. "She is only here for tactical information. I am declaring war for a much dire matter." At this, Slenderman paused, composing himself with clenched fists, before continuing, "Zalgo knows our weakness."
You scanned the various faces of Slenderman's three brothers. Each had their own unique expression of apprehension. This was clearly a secret that all Slender-beings were determined to remain hidden. Now, their greatest enemy had discovered it.
"How," the polk-dotted Slender nearly whispered his short inquiry. The terror in his voice was greatly apparent.
Slenderman hung his head, unable to hold his typical proud posture. "I was unable to snuff out the humans and their internet files in time. The information spread too far too fast. One or more of Zalgo's minions must be competent enough to access the human internet and found the forums-"
"The humans knew it, too?" Sexual-Offenderman slammed his fists onto the table, teeth bared with fury. "Why didn't you tell the Council?!"
"I cleaned up my mess!"
"Nothing is completely removed from the internet!"
"BEN cleared all traces. I killed every single human involved. I burned anything they owned."
"But you didn't do it soon enough," the trendy-looking Slender-being joined in on the verbal attacks against your master.
"I wasn't made aware of the internet communications between the humans until BEN recently informed me," Slenderman defended.
"It doesn't matter, Slendy," the cheerfully-dressed Slender gazed from across the table with pitiful eyes. "We could have worked together and fixed it much more quickly. Did you not trust us?"
"Of course I trust my brothers," Slenderman sighed. "I simply," he sharply inhaled as though the following words were physical pain, "underestimated the situation."
The room fell silent. You glanced between each of the four beings to study their demeanors. The very fact that none of them had removed themselves from the room meant that arguing amoungst each other was a common issue. They had learned to work around their differences. The family bond was secure, though it wavered from time to time.
Slenderman went on to elucidate the past events, starting with his first encounters with the humans' new tech. He illustrated each discovery he had made during the missions before and after you became his new Proxy. Lastly, your master describe your last mission: the kidnapping, your disappearance for a time, and your reappearance in Slenderman's territory. He expressed the severity of the trap Zalgo had made with you and the disruptor. The very fact that the disruptor was easy to conceal made it dangerous enough. To have it mobile or even strapped to his minions would make things far more difficult. "I'm not sure how many of these disruptors Zalgo has on hand, and I fear the amount he could possibly create. We have to act soon, or Zalgo will overwhelm us," your master closed his little speech.
Again, the room fell silent. Each of Slenderman's brothers exchanged glances, searching for the first response.
The vested Slender-being fidgeted with his lenseless glasses and spoke first, "Zalgo may seem like an evil court fool, but he's smart. I doubt he would completely forget the disruptors out of boredom or accident. He knows he's got us cornered."
"Not yet, he doesn't," Sexual-Offenderman growled.
"Trendy," the colorful Slender-brother eyed the one with glasses. "Isn't one of your friends really good with electronics and science?"
Trendyman raised a brow to his brother, "Yeah, but she wouldn't be working with Zalgo."
"No! I was wondering if she could find a way to disrupt the disruptor. We can't stop Zalgo from making more, but we could find a way to defend against it, right?"
Trendy slowly nodded, processing his brother's idea. "She might just be able to do that, but she'll need one of those disruptors to work with."
"Is it really a good idea to be revealing our weakness to more non-Slenders?" Sexual-Offenderman crossed his arms over his chest in disapproval. "What if this friend of your's uses it against us?"
They continued to banter, determining the best choice of action. All the while, Slenderman watched on, and you watched him. There was a thin film of sweat building up on his neck and scalp. You could sense some invisible, cold weight pushing down on your master's shoulders. He seemed burdened with guilt and regret. Even so, he managed to hold his straight posture, but you were able to see through it. His brothers were much too distracted to notice Slenderman's fatigue. On a whim, you slipped a hand around his, instantly noticing the clammy sweat on his palm. A beat skipped, then Slenderman whipped his head in your direction. The two of you stared at each other, all the while you fed supportive thoughts in hopes that he was prying into your mind. The last thing anyone needed was to see Slenderman overwhelmed with anxieties.
"You two love-birds gonna hop off that perch soon?" Sexual-Offenderman's rugged voice scratched through the moment between Slenderman and yourself. The two of you broke hand contact and faced forward, secretly hoping no one saw the whole thing. It was quite obvious, however, they did.
Slenderman gathered his thoughts before continuing to discuss the matter at hand. "Trenderman, how well do you trust this friend of your's?"
Trendy held firm on his proposition, "Completely. I've known her for many decades."
"Very well," said Slenderman. "Contact her as soon as possible. We'll provide her with whatever she needs."
Trenderman nodded.
"Is no one else concerned about the disadvantage of quantity we have?" The Slender-being with the top hat queried.
"You hear that," Sexual-Offenderman sneered. "Splenderman thinks we can't take on Zalgo and his minions.
"He's right," Slenderman reasoned. "The four of us, our Proxies, and our residents still won't be enough to win this war. That's why I've been gathering allies." He shifted, allowing an instance of silence before his brothers released varying reactions to something you weren't a part of.
Sexual-Offenderman grunted, "I'm surprised you were able to convince most of these guys to fight with us. Must have been some good-ass fucking you gave them."
"Offendy!" Splendorman scolded his foul-mouthed brother. "That might be how you make deals, but Slendy is much more dignified!" He only received a cackle from the fedora-wearing Slender-being. To this, Splendorman rolled his head in emphasis to what would be rolling his eyes - if he had any to roll.
Your master chose to ignore the short exchange, continuing to discuss the serious subject. "I'd appreciate if the three of you could provide aid in gaining allies. There are many neutrals and Wanderers of whom we can request to join our cause. Most of those I've already spoken with have experienced enough inconveniences from Zalgo and his minions." Each of the three brothers nodded. "Now, our last task for this meeting is to retrieve information from ____. We can use her knowledge to decide how to attack." Everyone turned their heads in your direction, waiting for you to spill words of tactical gold.
You choked, unable to form these words into something that would make sense. No matter how you molded your lips, the verbiage wouldn't slip from the tip of your tongue. You had seen Zalgo's territory, for the most part, but everything was such a blur that you may as well have been vaguely dreaming. The haze of your memory was thick and unyielding, much like the helpless distortion of imperfect eyes without correcting lenses. You looked up to Slenderman, pleading for help.
"You don't want me to do that," Slenderman said, his voice low with warning.
"I want revenge on Zalgo. If any information I have can make a difference in our favor, then I want to help," you held your gaze, determination radiating, though fear loomed in the background. The idea that this was going to hurt lingered in your master's warning. Still, it couldn't be nearly as painful as Zalgo's torture or BEN's imaginary fire.
With an audible sigh, Slenderman raised a bony hand, fingers extended, and clasped it over your eyes.
First, there was darkness; familiar and peaceful. Then, there was an explosion of memories, accompanied by all of the senses experienced for each one. On top of these recollections, you could feel a foreign entity winding its way around your brain like old vines. The scratching filled your head, taking over the sounds of your rushing memories. The mysterious vines wriggled behind your eyes, stirring inside and searching for something. Finally, a single string of memories focused and played out. You relived what moments you vaguely remembered. You experienced hours of vivid torture that you didn't recall. You saw Zalgo's winding and burning territory. To a stranger, nothing made sense. To those who lived there, it was perfect.
Once your memories no longer revealed the secrets of Zalgo's territory, everything faded. The searching vines retracted, scratching and twisting their way out from wherever they entered. Darkness returned, accompanied by silence. Your senses returned to the present just in time to see Slenderman lower his open hand and face his brothers once again. In response, your knees buckled under the weight of mental anguish. Slenderman used his tendrils to catch and hold you upright until you recovered.
"There's no way we could win if we fight Zalgo on his land," Sexual-Offenderman grumbled.
Trenderman adjusted his glasses, "We'll have to lure Zalgo and his minions closer to the border."
Splenderman asked, "Would he even agree to take that risk? Why would Zalgo willfully give up an advantage over us?"
"Because he knows we're not foolish enough to fight him there," Slenderman stated. "Zalgo wants a war - just not a one-side war. He'll fight us on neutral ground, which is why the border is the best choice."
A few moments of silence befell the room before Sexual-Offenderman grunted in defeat. "Fine. But who's going to invite Zalgo to the party?"
"____ will," Slenderman gestured a hand to you.
Everyone returned their attention to your presence. You wished nothing more than to be invisible at that moment. With wide, panicked eyes, you pleaded with your master once again, "Please don't send me back there. They'll torture me again. Why would you send me there if you know what they'll do?"
"You are not the Proxy I recruited nearly four months ago," Slenderman gently encouraged you. "You are not the Proxy Zalgo had kidnapped. I have faith in your new self."
"But what if you're wrong?" You didn't want to risk it. The possibility of becoming Zalgo's prisoner again was terrifying.
"My decision has been made." And that was that. You could argue, but you would only embarrass yourself. "I will notify you," he gestured to his three brothers, "when ____ has returned. She won't be going until three weeks from now. We still need time to prepare and gather more allies."
Each brother nodded, knowing there was nothing further to discuss. They disappeared all at once, leaving you with your master. The time alone didn't last long, however; you stormed out of the room, furious of your master's decision. He didn't call for you, nor did he try to stop you. Your moods swings needed time to balance, even if your reaction was relatively reasonable to the current situation.
Most of the mansion passed by your vision in a blur. You were going somewhere, though you didn't quite care what the destination may be. For now, you needed a place to occupy your mind in peace; a place where Slenderman wouldn't bother you; a place other than your bedroom.
The garden was where you wound up. If not because you subconsciously wanted to be there, then it was the joyful, fruitful sight of your hard work finally ready to be reaped. The beautiful, crisp greens of the plants looked delectable, even if some leaves weren't meant to be eaten. The sought produce was far more appetizing, anyway. Everything had just began to ripen. In the back corner of the garden, you noticed the mysterious gumball tree, stretching its thin trunk and limbs up and outward. It had reached well over your height now, though it still looked like it had a ways to go before it matured. There was one branch, however, that began to bud. Upon further inspection, you found that the bud spiraled along the branch, toward the trunk. Its round shape had you wondering if there truly was a gumball growing within. Perhaps, over time it would slowly roll out to reveal its secret once and for all. You noted to keep an eye on it as often as possible.
After the inspection, you tested the soil and determined that it needed a little moistening. At least the garden could keep you busy. It always had something for you to do.
Time went by. You found a large, woven basket in the shed, which you used to carry the ripe vegetables back into the mansion. The basket was half-full, for this round. You were certain that the next time would result in the need of a second basket. Maybe you planted too many seeds? No matter. With so many mouths to feed, it'd be a shock if anything soured in this kitchen.
You hummed to yourself an unknown tune as you rinsed the various vegetables. The meticulous, soothing activity calmed your nerves from the events of the meeting, clearing your thoughts. Part of you understood why Slenderman wanted you to deliver the message to Zalgo, but another part questioned why someone else couldn't go. Was it fear searching for an excuse? There was no denying that you were afraid. There was also no denying that you were much stronger now than last time; stronger, in a sense, that you knew the possibilities of your newfound self, but weren't skilled in using what you had gained. Maybe that's why Slenderman wanted to wait before making the declaration of war.
". . .everything," a voice carried from down the corridor. "There's n-nothing to ea. . .left!" It was Toby's. He was getting closer with whoever he was talking to.
"Yeah, okay. I doubt she could fit that much in so little time," Hoodie's skeptic voice answered.
You turned just in time to see all three of your Proxy brethren enter the kitchen - which was still a mess from your earlier pillaging. They were quick to realize that Ticci Toby may not have been lying. Both Masky and Hoodie rushed to the fridge and cabinets, searching for some morsel of nourishment that may have been left untouched. To their dismay, if you had missed anything, it was long gone by someone else's doing.
Toby stepped closer to his fellow starving men, arms crossed, "F-fucking told you."
Stepping back from the sink, you thrusted your hands toward the collection of fresh vegetables in an attempt to defend yourself. All three men stared at the basket and the kitchen towel layered in obvious food. Not one of them acknowledged what you had to offer.
"Did she really eat the waffles," Masky whined.
"Fuck yeah!" Toby exclaimed. "A-all of them," he lied. "I w-walked in jus. . . right when she t-took the . . . ate the. . .last bite!"
"That bitch!" Hoodie raised a clenched fist. "Not the waffles," he lowered his head in mourning.
With a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and turned back to rinsing veggies, knowing that those three were ignoring you on purpose. Boy, did it work, though. You couldn't resist snapping at them, "I'm right fucking here! I have food! That's why I planted a garden." Luckily, they couldn't see your lips trembling as you did your best to fight back a grin.
"What's that, guys? We're going vegan?" Hoodie reached over your shoulder, purposefully pressing you against the counter in order to interrupt your chore. He snatched a potato from the pile of freshly rinsed vegetables, then took a huge bite out of it as though it were an apple. "Mmmmm," he sarcastically moaned with excessive pleasure. "Love me some dirt fruit." Both Toby and Masky burst into laughter. You bit back your own urge to laugh along, trying to act annoyed.
Eventually, you gave in, knowing that your brothers would keep heckling you otherwise. You turned around, drying your hands on a kitchen towel that probably hadn't been washed in weeks, and grinned darkly at them. You said, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were all upset with me."
"Nah," Toby raised an index finger and replied matter-of-factly. "We're j-just saying. . .ing you're a fat-at-ass." He was met with a towel to the face, followed by a you to the body as you tackled him to the floor. You wrestled for a bit, Masky and Hoodie cheering and egging the two of you on, "Kick his ass!", "Make her throw up our food!", and others of the like.
During all of this, Eyeless Jack entered the kitchen, completely ignored by the Proxies. He had a large duffel bag packed to the brim with supplies, to which he made a beeline for the refrigerator. It was the sound he made after opening the ice-box door that announced his presence to you and your fellow Proxies. The sound started as a low growl, then quickly raised in volume to a full-blown scream. There was a touch of something - inhuman - to the scream that raised the hairs on the back of your neck. All four Proxies froze in place, staring at Jack.
Eyeless Jack dropped the duffel bag, then ripped his mask off, tossing it aside. "You fucking bitch! Why is it so hard for you to leave my shit alone?" His grey skin, hollow, black eyes, and jagged teeth made up a face that you hadn't seen before. You knew that it was Eyeless Jack, yet a stranger stood in his place.
Hoodie and Masky slowly backed up, exchanging glances. Toby stood up and joined them, throwing a glance at you before using you as a meat shield.
In an effort to reason with Jack, you stumbled through an explanation, "I'm sorry, Jack. I just. . . I'm going through some weird changes and I. . . I couldn't control myself. I just needed to eat anything I could find. I even ate their waffles! It wasn't just your stuff!"
"Fuck you," Jack snarled. "I warned you once already after having a taste. Now you ate my entire stock!" He lunged for you, mouthful of fangs bared for your throat.
The majority of your vision went black. You heard a thump, then gagging. Once you realized that you weren't blacked out and doing all the fighting, you noticed that the dark foreground was made of fine threading. Your master had come to rescue you once again. Slenderman's voice rumbled from his wake, "____ will replenish your stock, along with the rest of the kitchen's more typical edibles." Jack struggled, kicking in the air as he dangled from Slenderman's grip. Your master looked over his shoulder to you and continued, "If ____ depletes your stock again, she will replenish it again, and so on." He then set Jack down, who fell back on his aft, gasping for air.
"But," your eyes darted between Slenderman and Eyeless Jack, "how? I don't know how to go into the human world on my own."
"I'll take you," the tall being responded. "You are my responsibility. If your new eating frenzies are going to become a regular event after suffering severe damage, then we'll have to make amends as needed."
Jack stood up, his hateful glare held firmly on your form. "Fine, I guess," he reluctantly grumbled. "But I want my own 'fridge in my room. At least she shouldn't be able to steal from me there."
"Very well," Slenderman accepted the terms and conditions. He then turned back to you and your fellow Proxies, "Prepare for a harvesting mission. Meet in the foyer by eight o'clock tonight. I trust you all paid enough attention to know what you'll need." With a collective response of acceptation from his Proxies, your master disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.
Eyeless Jack gave you one last glare of warning before returning to the duffel bag he had dropped and dispensed its contents in their respectful places. You returned to finishing up the cleaning of your vegetables while your brothers helped and stood guard - just in case Jack impulsed a sucker-punch while your back was turned. He didn't though, and bitterly swiped his mask from the kitchen floor before going anywhere else in the mansion that you weren't.
YOU ARE READING
Can't Say
FanfictionIt seems people have been stealing this story and posting it here, so I'll officially post it, myself. A novel inspired by this one-shot: https://www.deviantart.com/shadowsbyday/art/If-Only-Slenderman-x-Fem-Reader-472659391 Summary: [SlendermanxRead...
