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Done and Dusted: The Slender Man Final

by Karen Eastland about a year ago in Horror · updated about a year ago
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The Adventures of Millie and Sandra

Shoutout to Dana Luig

The Adventures of Millie and Sandra is a series of urban, paranormal, crime fiction/fantasy stories for girls between 9 and 14. At the bottom of this story, seventh in the series that will become books, I will provide the links to the previous stories in order, from number one.

***

The twins lay beneath the gnarled old pear tree, soaking in the memories. With their grandads carving above their heads and its ripe fruit dancing in the tree, the world outside seemed to be a million miles away.

“Millie?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we?” Sandra asked.

“We’re somewhere, and nowhere,” she replied.

“But what does that mean?” Sandra asked, as a sudden deep pain pierced her side, and for the briefest of moments, Millie disappeared.

The gold light vanished, and her stomach lurched when she saw the face of the Slender Man.

“Millie?” she cried, but a deep, distorted voice answered.

“What is it, sister?” it asked, and Sandra shifted to her elbows and saw, lying beside her, a hideous, formless creature.

She screamed. Tried to get to her feet. Tried to get away, but Sandra couldn’t move.

***

Shoutout to Jossuha Théophile

Outside, with Margret’s hands still on her physical body, Sandra thrashed and convulsed.

“Mil’s,” Margret said, trying to keep her hand on Sandra. “What’s happening?”

“Hold her down,” Aunt Millie said, and hands reached out of the darkness and fell on Sandra’s sleeping body. “It’s the Dybbuk.”

Aunt Millie wasn’t sure what was happening. She wanted to charge in, take the Dybbuk and the Slender Man down, but knew she couldn’t. For the first time, the twins were on their own. She knew Millie could manage a few deflection and protection spells.

But Sandra? Sandra knows nothing.

“Can we help?” one in the coven asked, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think of a way to pierce the glowing green barrier surrounding the house for any of them to get through. Then she looked at her frozen sisters standing around like guardians.

“There’s nothing we can do for them out here,” Aunt Millie said, “and I believe Sandra only found a way in because the Dybbuk wanted her to… Margret?”

“Yes?”

“Can you talk to her?”

“I’ll give it a go, but apart from grounding her, I haven’t sensed Sandra. It’s like she’s not there. I can’t let go though. I am her tether,” she said, “but I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Aunt Millie said.

The unfrozen were holding Sandra down, and her thrashing had eased off. Margret leaned in, moved her lips close to Sandra’s ear, and whispered.

“Sandra? Can you hear me?”

There was a tense wait. An eerie silence that no-one liked, and just when she thought she’d get no answer, she heard Sandra scream.

“What’s happening?” Margret asked, unable to hide her panic.

“What’s going on?” Aunt Millie asked, but Margret put up a forestalling hand while she listened.

“What’s happening, Sandra,” Margret asked. “How can we help?”

***

Shoutout to Tiffany Combs

Back in the house, Sandra tried to tell Margret what was going on, but wasn’t sure she’d heard.

What would Millie do, she thought.

“Millie? Millie?” Sandra called, but everything had fallen away; the tree, the light, the ground until the twins were floating in a dark space.

“Millie?’

“Sandy?”

Sandra thought she heard her sister’s voice, but it was different. It was tired, defeated. The voice sounded very unlike her twin.

“Mill’s?” she called. “Where are you?”

“I’m here,” she called back, her voice cracked and throaty. “I’m here. Sandra, you have to go… the Dybbuk…”

“I’m here to save you, Mill’s.”

“What?,” Millie said, and her voice drifted away.

“Mill’s!” Sandra screamed.

She floated around what felt like a ceiling and was looking down, searching for her twin. When she found her, Millie was tied to a chair, and locked in a cold, damp, windowless room.

Shoutout to Parsa Mir

The basement? Huh! Didn’t know we had them here.

She floated down to the chair and called for Millie, but she’d passed out.

What do I do? Sandra wondered. I’m not trained for…

Suddenly, appearing in one corner of the room, was a growing, glowing, white light. Sandra stared into it, and saw someone inside.

“What the?” she said and was being pulled towards it. “Na ah, no way. I’ve seen that movie. “Get away from the light, Carol Anne”.”

As it would seem, Sandra had no control over her destination and was floating in front of the light. Staring into it, she saw a face she knew.

“Grandma?”

“Yes, my dear. It is I,” her grandmother said. “I have come, for you are in great need. I have a gift for you. A gift you must never use unless all hope is lost.”

Shoutout to Ryan Stone

“Um, okay.”

“Look deep into the light, Sandy.”

Sandra pushed her face into the light, and as she did, a blacker than black shard of energy shot into her forehead, knocking her off balance.

“Tell no one,” echoed a whisper as the light disappeared.

Tell no-one what? She thought, but found she was no longer in astral form.

The floor beneath her bare feet was cold, and she ran her hand down along the arm of Millie’s chair and knew the rules had just changed.

Tell no one, she thought and smiled. She sensed a great power growing within her. All right. I won’t.

She began to explore the old house, and with each step she took, more power grew.

“Dybbuk?” she taunted, like someone who knew a great secret. “Slender Man?”

She made her way to the first floor of the house. She’d never been in it before, but it was what she expected. It smelled of old lady and dirty socks.

“Oh,” she said, when something standing in one corner of the room caught her eye. “You… Slender Man! Aren’t you the scary one?”

The Slender Man

Sandra was laughing when a voice from behind startled her.

“How’d you get in here?” that same deep, distorted voice, that spoke to her under the pear tree asked.

“Oh, you know,” Sandra said, “tried a door here, a window there, but do you know what I found really works?”

“What?” asked the odd formless shape, appearing to be caught in Sandra’s spell.

“Want,” Sandra said.

“What?”

“Want,” she said again. “I wanted to save my sister, and wallah, here I am.”

The Dybbuk began to chant something in an odd language, but Sandra raised her right hand, swept it in the air from one side of her face to the other, and said, “Enough! Stay!” and the Dybbuk stopped talking and stood as if it too were stuck in gelatine.

“The rules have changed, Dybbuk,” Sandra said. “You, and your little man there, hold no power over me.”

“’Tis a trick,” the Dybbuk said. “You have no power, but your sister—”

“I’m certain I said, stop talking,” Sandra said, and the Dybukk stopped. “Abracadabra, Dybbuk. We’re playing a new game now. A game of… oh, I don’t know. Let’s kill the Dybbuk? Or, box you. I’m not sure which?”

In its silence and through the power of its mind alone, the Dybbuk called forth the Slender Man. Sandra caught the movement. It was as if she could see everything, it was like she was a Dragonfly.

That’s what I am, she thought, and it pleased her. I’m a Dragonfly.

Each time Sandra embraced her new powers, it would surge through her like an electric current, and for a moment, her eyes sparked a dazzling white, then faded to a glossy black.

“Dust,” she said and the Slender Man, the creation of the thoughts and horror stories told by millions, exploded into dust, and the Dybbuk’s bottomless eyes opened wide, so wide, she almost saw its whites.

It was the moment the creature finally feared its opponent.

“You once sent me a gift,” Sandra said, running her fingertips over the cold wax of the wooden box sitting on a table in the middle of the room.

Shoutout to Monirul Islam Shakil

The box was just how she remembered it, but last time she touched it, the dybbuk was inside.

“I want to give it back,” Sandra said.

Her voice had dropped several octaves and sounded like the distorted voice of a man. She saw the Dybbuk try to speak, when from beneath Sandra’s feet a black cloud arose. It lifted her from the ground until she was face to face with the creature.

“I understand you’re looking for a soul. Some poor creature to host your pitiful self,” she said. “Look at you. Can’t even move, can’t even speak because of little ol’ powerless me? Who would want you!”

“Unseal,” Sandra commanded, floating back to the box on the table.

The old wax around the box’s seal crackled and snapped until the lid flung open and stale air escaped.

“Is that what you smell like? No wonder you can’t find a host.”

All the Dybbuk could do was move its eyes, and they were expressive. Almost popping out of its… head? When Sandra opened the box with such ease.

“Candle,” Sandra said, and a large yellow candle appeared in her hand from the ether, and with an ounce of breath, she blew a soft yellow flame from her mouth to light it. “Let’s get a little ritualistic with this part. It always looked like fun when sis did it.”

Shoutout to Matt Seymour

Sour the sweet of wood and grain,

Immerse the deep with the Dybbuk again.

Silence its calls for sweet release,

Bind its form with spectral heat.

Let it never feel love nor pain,

And put it back in the box again.

“Huh! That was easy,” she said, turning to the Dybbuk. ”Oh… and, Snap!”

She flashed white fire from her eyes, captured the bound creature in the flame, and stuffed it in the box. With the candles wax pooling to the lip, she closed the box and poured it around the seal, making sure it was caulked with copious amounts of ethereal wax so the Dybbuk would never see the light of day again.

Once the box was sealed, the green gelatine around the house fell to the ground. Sandra knew the moment it happened; the boards of the floor vibrated. She heard the covens call for frozen sisters to wake, but she would do that. First, she had to bury the box beneath stone and earth, and seal it with fire.

She walked back down to the basement, and with the power of her mind, dug a hole so deep, no-one would ever find the Dybbuk box again. She dropped it in, all the while making sure Millie was still unconscious. Sandra closed the earth, then pulled stones from the ether to form a mound on top, so she would always know where it was.

“I hate this house,” she muttered while undoing Millie’s ties.

Taking Millie in her arms, she took one last look around, then cast a spell.

For those entwined in formless snow,

Let their heads be free, right down to their toes.

Tinder the door to the wood outside,

And cast this place into fire.

Snap!

The thick wooden door to the outside smashed outwards until it splintered. Sandra got Millie out before shifting back into her astral body. Aunt Millie, however, she’d glimpsed Sandra’s eyes in the moments before, and she worried.

What have you done, my girl?

Sandra stared at her and smiled when she floated past. Aunt Millie shouldn’t have been able to see any of it. But she knew deep in her bones that something not good had happened. Once she was back in her body, Sandra stood, looked at the old house, and saw the coven had thawed.

“Run,” she yelled when the lick of orange and red flames shone through a window.

Shoutout to Stephen Radford

Margret picked up Millie, and they all ran into the forest. They’d just made safe distance, when the house exploded in a fireball. The coven sat on the ground. Some were warming themselves, others looked on in wonder. Aunt Millie, however, sat behind Sandra. She knew something wasn’t right.

“Sandra?” Millie called, and Sandra stood to catch her in her arms.

“Wasn’t it just a divinely delicious adventure, sister?” Sandra said, but her smile never quite reached her eyes.

Mother! Aunt Millie thought. Has to be.

Shoutout to Polina Kuzovkova

The Adventures of Millie and Sandra:

Aunt Millie's Warning

The Terrible Case of Mr. Spoxal

Happy Birthday Girls

Marigold Madness: The Slender Man Part One

The Raging Bull: The Slender Man Part Two

The Heart Of The Matter: The Slender Man Part Three

The Long Thaw: The Slender Man Part Four

Thank you for reading my story. If you liked it, could you please drop a like. You do need an account to like something you have read, but you can login with Facebook for free.

Horror

About the author

Karen Eastland

I write primarily, Urban Fantasy, but because my style sits on the cuff of several genres moving into paranormal fantasy was an easy step. I became a Vocal+ member to provide interactive access for my readers.

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