He's in my room right now (and yes, he's a he). He finally fell asleep earlier.
You are not going to believe what happened.
I got a note back from him. can we meet in front of the library? 4:30? i'll be there. 4:30 wasn't before sunset, but it was sure as hell pushing it. For those of you who don't really realize what nictophobia entails, this isn't standard fear of the dark that everyone has. I don't even like the idea of the dark. I'm inside way before the sun sets for fear of getting caught outside after dark. Darkness or the excess thought thereof can lead to panic attacks, which has happened before. But I promised I would help this guy, so I was going to be there. I sucked it up and showed up.
He wasn't there.
I waited ten minutes. When he still didn't show up, I figured "screw it" and started back for my dorm. On my way back, I heard these sounds, like someone was getting beat up. I did the stupid thing and backtracked, just to make sure it was a fight before I called the cops. It was a fight, all right, but not just a couple of pissed (in the American and British senses) dudes beating the crap out of each other. It was Minecraft Creeper, punching this guy in the face, over and over. Calling him slime, a worm. Just hitting him over and over.
I did the sensible thing *cough* and intervened. By kicking Creeper in the nuts.
I can't tell if he was hurt in the standard "OH SHIT MY BALLS" way or if Renevant's sensitivity effects that area too, but he went down like a ton of bricks. The fact that both my dad and my brother taught ,e the art of nut-kicking before I left for college had a lot to do with it (just a warning to any proxies reading this). Anyway, so me and the guy Creeper was beating up make a run for it, all the way to my dorm hall. Partially because I was scared Creeper was going to get back up, and partially because the sun was starting to set and the panic was setting in. It wasn't until we were inside and once I was done nearly having a panic attack that I found out who the guy was. He was Mysterious Note Buddy. He didn't say anything; he just wrote something on a notepad and showed it to me.
thank you thank you thank you
Mysterious Note Buddy now has a face...sort of.
He's tall, about six three, and has really short sandy blond hair. Blue eyes. His clothes are all battered and dirty, and he's wearing a mask. I've seen his face, though, and I know why.
Does anyone know if Slender and his mooks are big on torture? Because that's the only word I can think of to describe it. He has these scars...a really long one around the perimeter of his face, with a big X right in the middle. Yeah, he has a massive operator symbol carved into his face.
He doesn't talk. He uses his notepad. We managed to have a conversation, though.
Me: Are you the guy who's been leaving me notes?
Note Buddy: yes
Me: Okay...what's your name?
N.B.: i don't know
Me: You don't remember your name?
N.B.: i don't
Me: Okay...are you...a proxy? [He stares at me blankly] You know, Hallowed? Do you work for Slend...[he starts shaking his head emphatically]. Okay, you don't work for him. You're a runner?
N.B.: i can't remember a lot. i can vaguely remember a few things about my past, and everything that's happened since three months ago. but i don't know.
Me: But you're not on his side?
N.B.: why would i be?
Me: Good point. Is that why that guy was beating you up?
Me: [I decide to switch topics] Do you think you could take your mask off? [I hadn't seen his face at this point. At first he doesn't want to take it off] Look, I need to know that I can trust you if I'm going to help you, and I need to see your face to do that.
Me: On your face? [He nods] I'm not going to be freaked out or anything. You can trust me.
[He hesitates, then takes off the mask. I manage to avoid fainting or anything at the sight of his facial scars, but I was probably visibly disturbed.]
Me: W...what happened? Who did this to you?
N.B.: don't remember. are you scared?
Me: No. Why would I be?
N.B.: the scars scare some people.
Me: They don't scare me. [I try to smile, but I'm too busy wanting to punch whoever hurt this guy] You don't ever have to worry about that. [He puts his mask back on anyway] Do you remember where you're from?
Me: Do you know how old you are?
Me: Do you remember anything?
N.B.: no [He looks really distressed at this point] i keep trying, but i can't remember
He's a runner with no identity. He vaguely remembers having parents, no siblings, living in the suburbs as a kid, and the name "Alice". He thinks his name starts with a D, but he's not positive. He woke up in a dirty hotel room three months ago with these badly stitched-up wounds on his face and a bag holding some food, a little money, a mask, and a note telling him to start running. He's been hunted by Slender ever since, going from city to city, stealing and begging to get by. He finally ended up here, saw Slender outside my window, realized I was a runner too. That's all I was able to get out of him tonight. I could tell how tired he was.
I know you're probably all yelling at me for letting a stranger into my little bubble like this, but (and I know some of you aren't going to buy this) I really think I can trust this guy. If you met him, you'd feel it too. He doesn't feel malicious. He feels lost, like a little kid separated from his family. We share a common enemy, and besides, what am I going to do? Kick him back out to get beat up again? No, thank you.
I'm sleeping with my pepper spray though. If I sleep at all. Slender's back outside my window. First time in a while. I shot him the bird before closing the window blinds. It's just empty bravado, though. I'm scared shitless right now.
I'm going to try to get some sleep now. Stay safe, you guys, and wish me luck.