Slendermane #1

>Writer’s Block shook his head and hung up the phone

>Spectacles was always in some backwoods area chasing down some kind of story

>Backwoods meant little to no reception

>Which meant that there would be no further interruptions

>But still something was different about this call

>Something in his voice sounded different

>Was it fear?

>WB shook his head clear

>His friend was fine

>He had just got all excited about a possible “discovery” again

>Nothing new

>WB turned his attention back to the task at hand

>He faced his opponent

>He made sure that his equipment was all set

>Prepared himself mentally

>It was going to take everything he had

>He stared at the still blank screen before him

>He took a deep breath and sighed

>He let his head fall onto the keyboard in front of him

>Why…

>Can’t…

>I…

>WRITE…

>ANYTHING!!!

>With each word he slammed his face into the keyboard

>Each strike left a jumble of random letter on the page

>”’vfboFDNsFNaerbKL xcbHIO?tfrjxmnjs”

>Looked like a solid enough start…

>It had been so much easier in Equestria!

>He could come up with a story anytime he wanted to

>He had a notebook full of ideas!

>But, so much had changed since he came to earth

“Let’s go to Earth! It’s full of adventure and interesting places! Plus It has all new audience for your books.”

>That had been the sales pitch Specs had given him

>Back then he admitted that he needed a new audience for his books

>And maybe a new venue would give him some fresh ideas

>If he only knew then what he knew now

>WB shook his head once again

>It was going to be another writeless night

>Might as well stop now and enjoy the rest of the evening

>Block left his study and headed for the kitchen

>As he entered the kitchen he magically opened the refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of whiskey inside

>He had never been a big drinker back in Equestria

>But this place had driven him to it

>Plus they didn’t have the kind of alcohol in Equestria like they did on Earth

>I’ll hand it to the humans; they mastered their art of liquor.

>He poured himself a glass and made his way to the living room

>He flopped down on the couch and rested for a bit

>Out of the corner of his eye he spot his old idea notebook

>Might as well.

>He levitated the book infront of him and started to leaf through the pages

>The ideas inside are as foreign to him as earth had been when he first arrived

>Even good ideas he had back in Equestria couldn’t inspire him to write

>He tosses the book across the room and settle further into the couch

>He takes a big sip from his drink

>Oh how far I have fallen.

>He shakes his head, might as well not think about the past

>Another sip of whiskey

>Sip, sip, sip

>That’s all he ever did anymore

>It was worse when he reminded himself about his exact position

>He was running out of money

>He was barely surviving off of the royalties from his book back in Equestria

>Pretty soon he was going to start dipping into his reserves

>Which was very small indeed

>Sip, Sip, Sip

>Making all of life’s problems go away one sip at a time

>His glass was almost empty at this point

>Time for a refill

>Looks like it was going to be one of “those” nights again

 

>Galloping

>He was always galloping

>The location was always different, but the action was still the same

>This time he was galloping through the forest

>His hooves crashing through the underbrush

>The same thoughts rush through his mind

>’I need to get away, I need to tell everyone, whatever you do don’t turn around’

>He knows what’s going to happen

>But that doesn’t stop him

>He can’t face it

>He just keeps galloping through the infinite forest

>Soon it will happen

>He trips

>Too soon

>He falls head of hooves and skids across the forest floor

>This is the part…

>He tries to get up

>But he is paralyzed by fear

>Instead he closes his eyes and waits

>’What am I waiting for? If I stay here it’s just going to…’

>His eyes fly open

>There it is

>It looms tall over him

>The black suit…

>The white coat…

>That blank face…

>WB wakes with a start…

>His phone is ringing

>It doesn’t help his massive headache

>He tries to focus on levitating the phone over to him

>But his hangover wreaks havoc with his concentration

>Eventually the ringing stops and a voice message is left

>’Must not have been too important…’

>WB leans back into the chair and tries to remember the dream

>Something about a forest

>He was galloping through it

>Something about fear…

>He shakes the feeling from his mind

>It is never good to dwell on such things…

 

>He pushes the dream from his mind and tries to get back to sleep

>WB lies in his chair tossing and turning for hours

>Something keeps him from falling back into his dreams

>Probably was the hangover

>No, this was a different feeling

>A strange feeling, cold and dark

>As if something was watching…

>BANG, BANG, BANG!

>WB nearly falls out of his chair out the sound of somep0ny knocking at his door

>The banging reverberates through his head as he tries to compose himself

>He slowly gets up from his chair and drags himself to the front door

>With his magic still on the fritz he fumbles with the knob in his mouth

>’I don’t know how pegasi and earth ponies manage to do this…’

>He finally manages to turn the knob and slowly open the door

>He is greeted by the silhouette of a human being

>WB’s eyes painfully adjust to the daylight

>He finally makes out the identity of the human

>”Good Morning Jon, a bit early to be knocking on doors, isn’t it?”

>Jon was one of Specs’ friends

>Or as Specs called them “His team”

>Jon always struck you as peculiar

>When around strangers he would barely say three words to anyp0ny

>But it was like he was different person around his friends

>Always talking really fast running multiple words together

>He had this thing about rubbing his hands together

>Constantly

>Jon smiles nervously down at you

“I’m sorry; I didn’t think that ten o’clock was that early. I tried to call earlier, but you didn’t answer. So, I decided to come on over and talk to you in person. Can I come in? Again I’m sorry for disturbing you. Have you seen Specs?”

>This guy needs to learn how to slow down

>WB shakes his head; the fast speech was not helping the hangover

>”Ok, let’s try this from the top. I didn’t realize what time it was; my mistake.”

>Jon seems to relax a bit after this

>As relaxed as he ever gets anyways

>”Next, I’m sorry I didn’t answer you call earlier, it was kind of rough last night.”

>WB moves to the side offering Jon entrance into the house

>Jon quickly rushes into the house and nervously looks around

>”And not I haven’t seen Specs.”

>Jon seems to tense up again at this

“Oh, ok. I’m just a bit worried is all. He went off on his own last night and he never called me or anybody else back. It’s not like him to go off like that. But, he has been acting slightly strange lately, haven’t you noticed? We have and it is somewhat worrying. I was thinking that he may have called you, because, besides the team, you’re his best friend. Do you have any coffee? I could use a cup of Joe night now.”

>WB sighs again and makes his way to the kitchen with Jon in tow

>Jon really doesn’t seem like he needs any coffee right now, but WB needed something to help him focus.

>It takes a little longer to set up the coffee pot without magic.

>But eventually Writer’s coffee pot simmers and boils

>WB sits down at the kitchen table with Jon

>”He has been a bit distant lately. I did receive a call from him last night.”

>Jon gets a serious look on his face

>WB has never seen Jon look so serious

“What did he tell you?”

>WB tries to remember the conversation with Specs

>”He said something about notes and his apartment; I couldn’t make out most of it because of the static…”

>WB is interrupted by Jon coughing

>”Are you ok?”

>Jon nods

>But as he looks at WB he expression changes

>He looks scared

>’No not at me, behind me?’

>’No farther, outside the window…”

>WB turns around and stares out the window.

>Nothing…

>He turns back to Jon who is now switching back and forth between WB and the window

“You can’t… You don’t… But it’s… I need to go.”

>Jon gets up and starts rushing out the door

“Sorry I can’t stay. Thanks for everything!”

>”But you didn’t even have any…”

>The front door slams shut before WB can finish his sentence

>”… coffee.”

 

>Jon’s quick departure left Writer’s Block stunned

>While Jon was indeed a nervous person by nature, this was different.

>Jon seemed scared by something

>Something that he had seen outside WB’s kitchen window

>WB looked out the window again and tried to see if he missed something

>Yet again there was nothing outside of his window besides his backyard

>Jon’s suspicious behavior coupled with Specs’ phone call didn’t add up

>There was something going on beyond the usual

>Maybe Specs had finally stumbled onto something…

>WB nervously chuckled at the notion

>’Specs, being right about one his crazy stories’

>’Maybe I should get my head examined’

>But still, calling him wasn’t that bad of an idea

>WB started concentrating on the levitation spell

>The sharp pain that followed quickly reminded him of his hangover

>A phone call could wait a few, at least until his head had cleared up a bit

>WB poured himself a cup of coffee and placed it on a tray

>Carefully he carried the tray with him to the living room

>WB set the tray down and moved to switch on the TV

>WB settled into the couch and started flipping through the stations

“Today, on cooking with the Cakes…”

*click*

“Bad boys, bad boys. Watcha gonna do? Watcha gonna do?”

*click*

“You ain’t ma foaldaddy!”

*click*

“Another outbreak of fighting in Korea has caused…”

>There was never anything good on TV

>At least the news was always interesting

>WB slowly sipped from his coffee cup and nursed his hangover

>The next few hours crawled by

>Eventually the headaches subsided enough for WB to concentrate on small levitations

>He slowly raised his phone and dialed the number for Specs

>The phone rang and rang

>Eventually it defaulted to voice mail

>WB left a quick message and put the phone back down again

>Specs not answering his phone was common

>Especially if he was “working” on something

>Something still gnawed at WB though

>Paying a visit to Specs wouldn’t hurt

>It wasn’t like WB was doing anything else of extreme importance

>Besides a nice walk might help get the creative juices flowing

>WB was up and levitating his saddle bags onto his back

>He flung the door open and trotted into the midafternoon streets

>It was a bit of a trot from WB’s house to Specs’ apartment

>He should be able to get there and back before nightfall

>WB turned and began his journey to Specs’ apartment

>After a time WB arrived Specs’ apartment complex

>As he turned down the hallway to his goal a distinct feeling overcame him

>He was being watched

>He turns around and discovers nop0ny behind him

>He laughs it off and chalks the feeling up to nerves

>He soon finds himself standing in front of Specs’ door

>WB raises a roof and raps upon the wooden door

>Several moments pass by with no answer

>WB raps on the door harder again

>”Specs? Are you in there? It’s me WB!”

>Yet again his call went unanswered

>Something didn’t feel right here

>A few thoughts and ideas float through WB’s head

>His thoughts drift back to Specs’ phone call and how scared Jon was

>One thought seems to bubble over the rest

>Get in there

>WB takes a deep breath and focuses on the door handle

>Surprisingly the door was already unlocked

>WB slowly enters into the dark apartment

>At first glance everything appears to be perfectly normal

>The living room and kitchen are both clean and well kept

>Before him a hallway leads into the darkness at was surely at bedroom

>WB performs a quick search of the living room and the kitchen

>Just liked expected, nothing out of place. Perfectly normal

>WB then starts walking down the darkened hallway

>He quickly finds a light switch and flips in on

>The hallway light flickers to life illuminating the path the bedroom

>As WB reaches the bedroom door he swears he can hear movement on the other side

>He prepares himself and flings the door wide open

>Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw

>The room was dark and empty

>Empty, except for all of the papers covering the floor and walls

>Not to mention the large stack of boxes that nearly filled an entire corner of the room

>Specs was obsessive about his “work”

>But this was insane

>Turning on the light in the room revealed the true extent of the insanity

>The papers on the floor were all crude drawings of some sort

>All filled with some type of cryptic messages

>The papers the covered the wall appeared to be different articles of information

>Newspaper clipping, webpages, hand written notes, pictures

>All of them had little red string connecting them to each other

>The boxes in the corner where all stacked and numbered

>Some had some words on them

>WB tried to fathom what Specs had gotten himself into

>What he had gotten himself into

>’These must be the notes from the phone call’

>’There are so many, I can’t take them all at once’

>WB settled on taking a few of everything,

>He would come back later when he had some help

>He levitated a box marked with a #1 written on it

>He opened it and discovered it was full of different type of medium

>A few notebooks, pictures, video tapes and CDs

>Magically WB lifted the contents of the box and placed it into his saddle bags

>Now for the papers on the floor

>They all seemed so random and meaning less

>WB selected 4 papers from the floor and placed them into his bag

>He then turned to the wall

>There was nothing he could really do without destroying the information that it held

>He cursed himself for not bringing a camera with him

>WB runs through a though about searching the room for a camera when he hears something come from down the hall

>He stops everything he is doing and listens intently

>The sound is unmistakable

>Hoofsteps

>Somep0ny else is here

>Soon after the sound of hoofsteps disappears the lights in the hallway and the bedroom go out

>WB fights every urge telling him to gallop out of the apartment

>Slowly he crawls toward the door out into the hallway and exits the bedroom

>As he slowly exits out of the darkened hallway he is greeted by a terrifying image

>In the evening light WB could make out the silhouette of something standing in the corner of the living room

>No not something, a pony

>This one though was different than any pony he had ever seen before

>Its legs were extremely long

>It body towered of WB

>It coat looked like it was a pale white color

>Not mane and tale were present

>It appeared to be wearing some kind of suite and tie

>On its flank it bore a cutie mark that only consisted of a circle with an X drawn through it

>The most horrifying feature though wasn’t what was there

>But it was what wasn’t there

>This pony had no facial features to speak of

>Just a blank face

>WB stood there frozen in disbelief

>This pony looked exactly like the thing…

>It couldn’t be

>WB blinked a few time to clear his vision

>As quickly as the silhouette had been there, it was now gone

>WB still stood staring at the corned

>Until finally he was able to send one message to the rest of his body

>Gallop

>WB left the apartment faster than he had ever fled before

>His dream seemed like they were seeping into reality

>His hooves pounded on the pavement as he galloped his way home

>All around him the fading light of the sun he could feel non-existent eyes watching him

>The shadows seemed to move on their own accord

>He was being chased

>’Home, I have to get home. I’ll be safe there!’

>He willed his hooves to carry him faster

>Still he couldn’t escape his pursuer

>Just as he thought he might have to stop he spotted his house ahead of him

>He made a mad dash for the front door

>He concentrated with all of his might to fling it open and immediately shut it behind him

>Safe, I’m safe.

>WB collapsed into a heap at the foot of his front door

>He desperately tries to catch his breath and collect his thoughts

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

>The pounding on the door sent WB flying across the room

>It was here, it was going to find him

>It was going to take him

>His nightmares were coming true

>The door banged a second time

>Why would it knock?

>WB slowly got up and approached the door

>A third set of knocks made him jump again

>He manages to croak out a greeting

>”Hello? Who’s there?”

“Mr. Block? I’m sorry to disturb you at such a late hour…”

>WB flung the door open to a human and pony standing next to each other

>They were both dressed in suits and, despite the late hour, wore sunglasses

>WB smiled at both of his guest

>”No trouble at all! How can I help?”

>The man seems a bit surprised, but soon regains his composure

”Mr. Block, I am Mr. Jones this is my partner Shade.”

”We are from the Federal Bureau of Human Pony Relations.”

“We would like to ask you a few questions concerning the disappearance of Mr. Spectacles.”

End of Slendermane #1