Journal Entry #41 - Masky

May 23^rd 2013 - 6:15 Pm

As I said before, I went to do some research. I found an interesting fact about the Slenderman. He has a Proxy. A “henchman” of sorts. Someone to warn others of their impending doom, or to do Slender’s dirty work. The latest proxy Slender has had, is a character called “Masky”, and usually is depicted with a white mask, and black eyes. Nothing about a red cloak, but not everyone knows everything. This much is clear: Slender has a Proxy. The other thing about Masky, is that he is completely human, or so my sources say. He might have gained “powers”, being Slender’s Proxy, but he is, in every sense, human. That means he could be an everyday pedestrian, someone I’ve met while I’ve been here even!

The next thing I researched was Duncan Woods’ history. I found exactly what I was searching for. The key to the gate, evidently, was lost when the gatekeeper died, so they had to close the gate. Now, you can get into the woods anywhere, but the gate was there for the official entrance.

Is there a connection between the key and Slender’s Proxy? Did I find something they didn’t want found? Why don’t they want me to find it? Why didn’t Masky stop me?

I continued to research. The gatekeeper’s name, I found, was Glenn Eaton. I’ll have to see if there’s anything else on him, but for now, that’s as far as I’ll be able to go.

I think I’ll go to the library. Maybe I can find something in some old newspapers, or perhaps someone there can lend me some more info.

Looks like I need to, “read up” on some things…

Inspector Kornelson

Journal Entry #35 - The Scene of the Sightings

May 13th, 2013 - 6:23 Pm

I went to the scene of the sightings today. Actually, a couple of them.

I drove into New York Park to visit the north end where there had been six recorded sightings. I made it to my destination on foot, and began to examine the area.

This is often the boring part. When you search around for evidence, you usually don't find much. It gets quite tiresome, but I force myself to continue to keep this habit.

Nothing really seemed out of place. I did note however that there was only one tree in this particular area. I decided to do something really out of place.

I climbed the tree.

I was half way up when I started getting some attention.

"Whacha doin?" A small boy asked.

As I grunted and panted up the tree, I answered, "Looking for a moth." I grabbed a branch, but it snapped. I barely caught my balance. I hugged that tree for dear life until I was sure I could continue.

"You almost fell mister."

I rolled my eyes. "YUP. Sure did." I continued to clamber. I was almost to the top.

"What does the moth look like mister?"

I smiled. "It's big, massive, hairy, and it'll gobble you up if you don't go away."

There was silence from below. I listened for a moment. Then I heard the boy again.

"Oh. That moth. He's the one that made Mommy fall on her back."

I froze. What? "Stay right there kid, I'll be right down." I finally got the top and looked around the tree. I saw exactly what I wanted to see. Broken branches. Big ones too.

I shimmied back down the tree and faced the boy. "What's you name?"

"Ken."

I lowered myself to one knee so I could come down to his level. "What happened to your mother?"

He kicked his foot in the grass nervously. "Well, Momma kept getting these phone calls. He kept saying something bad would happen to Momma. He called everyday for a week at 2:00. A couple days later, Momma saw this big thing flying right across here." he swooped his hand in front of himself, pointing all around me. "Then, yesterday, Momma fell on her back. She was on a ladder when the step fell off. She broke her back." Tears started falling down his cheek. "But it's not the big moth's fault. I just know it. I think he was just warning her."

I placed my hand in his shoulder. "Thank you Ken. Don't you worry. I'm going to find the big moth and get things straightened out." I turned to leave, but Ken tugged on my shirt. I turned back to him.

"If you find him, are you gonna hurt him?"

I smiled. "Only if he doesn't hurt me."

I got back to my hotel room in a deep sense of... I'm not sure what. I can't explain this feeling. There's a kid who's mom's in the hospital and he's not mad, there's a guy in the hospital who's scared for his life... the same story, with different responses. Why? Is there a reason, or is it simply the person?

Goodnight all...
Inspector Kornelson