Fear Dubh

I was born with a purpose. What that purpose is, I’m not sure. I have a vague clue, but nothing certain. I don’t remember ever being young. I’ve always just been tall and very thin. I don’t really have anyone to talk to. In fact, I don’t really seem to know anybody. I do know one thing, however. I’m not actually human. I know, I know, shocker. Honestly, I was surprised too. When I met the first human, they looked a little like me. Except, they were a bit shorter and their skin was… pink. I thought to myself, What is this? I walked up to it and tried to introduce myself. But as I approached, it turned away and ran, screaming bloody murder. Well ok, I thought, I guess I could have been a little more careful. But then again, I didn’t know what it was so scared of. After some time, I came to learn that these things were called homosapiens, or “humans”. I learned that they had something on their heads called “hair”. The ones with short hair were called males, or “men”, and the ones with longer hair were called females, or “women”. This was quite intriguing. They even had their own language. But, instead of speaking the way I would normally speak, they spoke with these things called mouths. As you can imagine, this was all very strange to me. Once more, I tried communicating with them. I walked up behind a man and tapped on his shoulder. He turned around to face me, and his face got completely white like mine. He screamed. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t speak with them properly. So I just stood there, looking at him. I felt bad that I had caused another one to become afraid. (This was another thing I learned: humans had a wider arrange of emotions than I. There was fear, anxiety, depression, etc.) He ran away like the first human. But this time, something changed. A few days later, I started seeing pictures of me all around with a warning on them. The warning said, Beware! Tall monster terrorizing villagers. I knew this was not good. This was disheartening, to say the least. I had no idea why these people were being so mean. So I went into hiding.

The year was 5,000 B.C. Another fun fact, humans pride themselves in religion. It’s a funny concept. They believe there is a higher being guiding the world. There are many different religions with different beliefs and “gods”. But the most widely accepted of them is Christianity. They believe in God Christ. Strange name, yes? But, whether they believe in this religion or another, they all follow the same timeline. A man from Christian culture named Jesus Christ. Born from a virgin, Mary, and son of God. Very strange indeed. But it is upon his death that the new years have come. Anyway, back to the story at hand. The year was 5,000 B.C, and I had come to learn that they have given me a name. They called me Fear Dubh. This would later translate to another name, but that can wait. For now, I’ll be calling myself Fear, for the sake of my story. It wasn’t until 4,092 B.C. that I started wanting to learn to communicate with them. I had been curious before, but now I was determined to learn. I knew I couldn’t just try talking to people. I had attempted this a few more times, but it always turned out the same. More and more warning signs popped up. So, I tried a different approach. I had the ability to be in one place and show up in another place instantaneously. The humans later called this teleportation. So, I found a human, a man, and teleported with him to a forest to try to keep him calm. He was definitely terrified. I put my hands up as a friendly gesture. He must have misinterpreted this, as he screamed and fell to his knees. I tried putting my hands on his shoulders, but he backed away. He got up and tried running away. He looked back at me for a split second and ran into a tree. Blood gushed from his nose as he hit the dirt, hard. I walked over to him and took him in my arms. I wanted nothing more than to make sure he was ok and to communicate with him. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t have a mouth.

The man woke up. I looked over at him. We were still in the forest, and night was approaching. He saw me and started screaming again. I was sitting down, running my hand through the dirt. I stood up and walked to him, trying my best to comfort him. I put my hand on his chest. I felt it pulsating. Strange, I thought. This human is vibrating. I later learned they had internal organs. The “heart” is what was causing the pulse in the man’s chest. It started getting faster and faster until… It stopped. I felt nothing. The man slumped over, drool coming from his mouth. I didn’t know what was going on. Later, I learned that the man had been experiencing death. I tried to wake him up, but he didn’t budge. Days went by, and the man never stirred. I left. While I was gone, new pictures popped up. They looked kind of like the man, but they were scratchy and etched. They said, Missing: Thomas Grezler. Please notify if seen. Thomas. That name rang in my head for a while. That man had a name. His name was Thomas Grezler. I realized what had happened. The man had a family, and no one had seen him. I went back and grabbed his body. It was daytime, but for some reason, no one was around. I took advantage of this and dropped him in the middle of an empty aisle. Surely this would be okay. People would be happy to see him again.

I waited. Eventually, a woman found her way to the aisle and found the man. She screamed, just as the man had. She ran away and came back moments later with others. Some covered their mouths, some covered their eyes or turned away. Others just stood there with their mouths wide open. I didn’t stay long. I knew they were upset. I knew they might get angry. I had seen human anger before. It was not pretty. The humans tended to get violent. They might come for me. I had to find another way to do this.

I attempted my strategy many times through the years. It always happened. The humans all died. At some point, I started seeing humans that were much smaller than the others. I’d come to know them as children. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed them before. They were certainly new. I tried communicating with them. I found a young girl. To my surprise, she didn’t die like the others. She was more calm. Curious, even. “My name is Marissa”, she told me. “What’s yours?” I couldn’t speak. She waited a few moments before speaking again. “Do you have a name?” No answer from me. She almost looked worried. But she continued, “That’s okay. I know a boy who doesn’t talk much. He doesn’t seem to have a family, either. It’s kind of sad, actually. But it’s ok. He’s still my friend and I care about him. And now, you’re my friend.” She thought she had made a new friend. I felt… happy. Someone finally wasn’t scared of me. She held something in her hand. It was made of straw and some weird fabric. I looked at it. She must have noticed, because she said, “Oh, this is my doll. Her name is Rose. She’s my friend.” Interesting, I thought to myself. These tiny humans carry around even smaller humans. Of course, this thought was to be corrected many years later. Marissa handed me the doll. I rolled it over in my hands. It was so small and, scratchy. How could anyone enjoy this? I gave the doll back and stood there. Marissa didn’t seem to mind the silence. I was glad. “Oh my, it’s getting late” she told me, “I have to get home, Or my parents will come looking.” I lifted her up. She giggled as I carried her out of the forest. She ran home.

It was the next day. Marissa somehow found me in the forest. I had made it my home. She embraced me – as best as a tiny human could – and told me she had missed me. I didn’t know how to think. I actually knew someone. And more than that, I had made a friend. She came to see me nearly every day. Marissa and I had a long lasting friendship. One day, I noticed lines in her skin. She spoke, “Friend, I’m getting old. I’ve done all I wanted to do in this life. I had a husband, children, and lived a very prosperous life. And you’ve been there for me through it all. I know you’re not like us, but I don’t mind. You’ve done nothing to hurt me or pain me in any way. I want to thank you for that.” She took my hand in hers. “I hope you can find more friends than I. I may not last much longer. I’m now in my 80s and feeling less than myself. You’ve been a great friend.” Then, she left. She came back a few more times and talked of the things that happened each day. It was usually the same, but I still found her interesting. After a while she stopped coming to see me. I never saw her again.

The year was 700 B.C. I had listened to many more children. Some were less talkative than others. But they were all cheerful. For a while, at least. The years went by, and children became more and more avoidant of me. Some screamed and ran away. One day, I had listened to a young boy named Matthew. He was 12 years old. When he was done talking, he went home. This time, he came back. His parents and many other humans were with him. They carried long sticks with pointy sticks on the end. They also carried sticks that were on fire. Humans are truly strange, I thought. They looked angry. I ran. I had no idea what they would do to me, but I didn’t think it was good. This happened a few more times after that. I decided to stop listening to children.

I became lonely. I wanted to learn. The year was now 106 B.C. People had seen me, but I never listened to anyone. I just took off when I saw someone. But now, it was different. I craved to listen, but I knew I couldn’t let anyone return. I decided then. I found another young girl. She talked of her family and friends. Her name was Claire. She was 9 years old. When she finished talking, I picked her up. She giggled. I stopped. I remembered that sound. I remembered… Marissa. My first and only friend. I became filled with anger. I hung the girl on a tree branch. I didn’t hurt her, but she yelled and writhed around. She fell a little, and her neck caught a few branches that were bound together. She stopped moving, even stopped yelling. I froze. No! I thought. Not again! But I could do nothing. She just hung there, lifeless. I wanted to return her, but I thought about all the times children had returned with other people. I decided against it. I left her lifeless body hanging in the tree. I went back a few days later and she was gone. Someone had taken her down.

Another couple of days went by, and I was walking around until I came across people standing around a giant hole in the ground. There was a large box sitting on one side of the hole. People were crying and comforting each other. The box was closed, so I couldn’t see inside of it. I heard the name “Claire” ring out from a man wearing a weird outfit. He was speaking of tragedy and woe. There was a sadness in his voice. I came to the conclusion that Claire’s body was in the box, and that they were going to put the box in the hole. Humans are strange, I thought. I walked away and forgot about the incident.

I began a routine of hanging children from trees. They talked, and they never returned home. It was the only way to listen that I could think of that didn’t result in angry humans that wanted to chase me. Eventually, pictures started showing up again of the missing children. Only now, they were much more elaborate and detailed than before. They were on little white rectangles and were in color. A young man named Jesus Christ had started appearing everywhere. People seemed to be trying to protect him, while others were trying to kill him. Eventually, the killers succeeded. A great storm followed his death. I paid no attention. I was busy listening to children. Years turned into decades, and decades into centuries. Things were quickly changing.

The year was 1602 A.D. The humans had built giant structures that towered over everything, even me. They had born new languages. But my name had stayed relatively the same through each. It had a change, however. They now called me The Slenderman. It was quite fitting. I liked it. But it evoked fear in the humans. I had learned to draw. I stole what was known as “paper” from random humans, and I drew pictures with “markers” I had found. Mostly pictures of myself and sometimes Marissa. One day, I drew a picture of Marrisa and I together. I was proud of it. I hung it on a tree using a piece of bark to hold it in place. I cherished it. I started drawing and hanging more pictures on the trees. It helped pass the time. Unfortunately, I kept finding that my pictures were going missing. I was worried that my favorite picture would be missing too. Thankfully it wasn’t. I took it down and carried it around with me. I would never let it go.

The 18th century was coming to a close, and human fashion was changing. I started seeing men in dark clothing with white underneath and lines going down the middle. They were called “suits”. I liked them. I found my way into the back of a building where I’d seen a man change into one of these suits. There were all colors and sizes. None were big enough for me. I suddenly heard a strange noise coming from another room. I looked in and saw a machine. It looked to be making one of the suits. I watched the whole process. It was mesmerizing. It was becoming dark outside. Everyone had left the building. Everyone but me. I went into the room and gathered the materials to make a suit. I turned on the machine and began work. It was tougher than I thought. It took a few tries but I eventually did it. I now had a way to store my pictures and look good at the same time. I was happy.

The year is now 2018 A.D. I am lonely again. So, I went back to my roots. This time is different, however. Now, I scare the adults away. I use fear (as my name implies) instead of compassion or curiosity. I have learned my lesson from the humans during the “Civil War”. They had long metal poles with holes in them. If it pointed at you, it really hurt. So I stay away from them completely. Now, I only take children. Some have even heard of me, apparently. A couple of them sacrificed their friend in my name not too long ago. It was a major deal. Many write stories in my name. Others await my arrival to kill them. I sometimes do. And it is fun. For now, I must go. I have more children to listen to and more humans to kill. In fact, I am standing behind one right now. They appear to be reading something. But not for long…

  • Puddin Tane

    WELL written! Kept me guessing at first. But then I caught on. 5 of 5 stars

  • Gary E Visentin Jr.

    Loved this one

  • Winter Soldier

    The two stories of yours here are two of the best I’ve read on here. Keep up the good work I can’t wait to read others from you.