Slendie RP, Anyone?

Hannah whimpered. She pressed even closer to Louis reflexively as the gun hit the floor. Staring at John, she spoke clearly, her voice quivering at the end: "Get out my house."

"I can explain... Really." He doesn't make any moves for the gun. "I..." He stammered, " I can... I just need to think..." He wiped his sweaty forehead with his hand, leaving a streak of dirt on his face.

"Get out!" Hannah's voice was shrill with fear. What if he still had the knife? And the gun was within his reach.. He was definitely a threat. His balaclava suggested he'd killed before so why wouldn't he kill again?

"I think I should go..." He picked up his things, including the gun, and putting them in the lockbox and pockets. But then he stopped. His hand went in front of his face like he was blocking out an intense light, he then shook his head like he was trying to clear his head, it worked he tried walking forward but stopped, his hands twitching and moving in front of his face. He whimpered and fell backwards, the contents of his lockbox being spread about on the floor. He was on the floor, his eyes closed and he's breathing heavily.

Hannah stared at him in horror. As afraid of him as she was, he looked like he was having a fit, and Hannah was a nice person right to her core. She leaped off the sofa and ran towards him. "John? John!" She knelt down, pushing the contents of the box away from them. For all she knew, he was pretending to do this to get her closer so that he could.. She tried to get the thought out of her head.

He was unconcious, completely and utterly, the only sign of the lfie was his facial muscles positioned in a look of pain and his heavy breathing. His teeth wer gritted, the papers were all around him, some were files and others enveloped letters.

Louis surveyed the whole scene with an expression of Zen-like calm as he unfolded his lengthy legs, straightening up from his perch on the sofa and looming over the motionless John who was being fussed over by an overly concerned Hannah, he cleared his throat.

'I shouldn't worry,' he said, reassuring the traumatic girl. 'Sudden memory-gain affects different people in different ways.' He gave a little shrug, hands clasped behind his back. 'It's to be expected.'

Hannah slowly leaned back, sitting on the floor and burying her face in her hands. She had an unconscious murderer on her living room floor, a formal gentleman that looked like he'd been transported from another century borrowing her lip balm, and a frightening, supernatural guardian angel looking over her. What was going on with her life? She squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

Louis's heart went out to the girl: she hadn't asked to be embroiled in all this; he frowned, neither had he, come to think of it. With a soft sigh, he sunk to his knees, winding a comforting arm around Hannah's shoulders as his eyes remained fixed on the motionless John. All we need now are the parents.

He gave Hannah's shoulders a little squeeze, pulling her towards him so he could stroke her fluffy hair gently, murmuring reassuringly so only she could hear.

Hannah sniffled quietly, turning towards Louis and burying her face into his shoulder. She felt tired, so, so tired. She hoped that maybe this was all a dream, and she'd wake up in her bed, wrapped in her flowery quilt. Gripping his jumper slightly, she nestled her head down.

Louis hummed absently, aware of Hannah gripping his jumper beneath his jacket as he played with a strand of her hair. This girl certainly gets friendly, he mused. One moment she was terrified of him, a Slender Man look-alike, and now she was nestled against him as though for warmth. All he needed now was the girl's parents to come down, or even John to wake up, and get the wrong impression.

She sighed and opened her eyes. She tilted her head up to see Louis. "What do we do with John? Just leave him there?" Hannah eyed the man on the floor and shuddered gently, lowering her voice. "I don't trust him." Her gaze shifted over the papers littering the floor and she tightened her grip on Louis fractionally.

Louis gazed down at her, brow furrowing slightly as he mulled it over. 'We should at least give him a chance.' He gave a little smile, memories swirling. 'I remember when I-' He stopped, nibbling his bottom lip thoughtfully. 'He was attempting to explain before he lost conciousness. Yes... give him a chance.'

Hannah sighed and pouted, frowning slightly. "Okay, but if he kills me, I'm blaming you."

Her gaze returned to Louis' face. Creasing her nose a little, she reached up and rearranged a stray strand of his dark hair. "Do you think we should pour some water over him, wake him up?"

John grunted in his sleep, moving his stomach downwards and groans as if it caused him pain, he whimpered in his unconciousness.

"Maybe not," Hannah sighed, nuzzling into Louis' shoulder for a moment before pulling away and kneeling up, collecting the sheets of paper that surrounded John. She glanced at his face, considering cleaning him up slightly, before she realised that, if he woke up half way through, he might react badly. Shuffling the papers into a pile, she sat back beside Louis.

One of the papers is a file, a brown paper file like you see in the movies, it has a photograph of a solem young man clipped to the front, he's wearing what appears to be a uniform, the photo is in black and white, the man in the photograph bears a distant resemblence to the man on the kitchen floor. Relatives, maybe? Or just a type?

John's eyes under the lids start to move.

Hannah studied the picture of the man before her. She glanced between the man on the floor and the man on the file in her hand, frowning heavily at their similarities. John's eyelids began to flicker, preventing her from thinking about it deeply. "Guess he won't need to be splashed with water then," she thought.

John's eyes sharply opened, his head shot up, he looked dazed. His head then fell backwards again. He lifted his right arm up and moved it to his left so he shifted his weight to the side. He was now literaly on his hands and knees, back to the two of them. His head looking directly at the floor. His mind is racing about what he saw as he was unconcious. "What the hell just happened?"

Outside the house a Large Explosion rocks the forest knocking down a hundred or so trees looking on with a twisted smile on his face a large male looks on talking to himself "Yes i think i got the bastard." he says as he begins to laugh insanely.

(He shall die soon to demonstrate my wrath be warned children do not fuck with my forest.)

Inside the path Slenderman looks on as his trees are decimated. 'You will pay for disturbing my home.' he thinks searching for the presence of the arsonist.

Hannah looked over to John. "I don't--" she broke off, flinching and ducking automatically at the sound of the far off explosion. She sat up, trying to look out of the window.

John clambers onto his feet and turns around, looking quite calm. "I heard something..." He sald coldly. "What is the source?"

Hannah ignored him, glancing to Louis. "It came from the forest."

A wave of child-like excitement overwhelmed her and she stood. It was as if a thread was connected to her very soul and it was pulling her towards the woods. Hannah walked towards her door. She was going to find out what was going on, and soon.

"Mind if I come along?" He asked quietly. "I'm fine now, I'm sure I am." He looks over at his box and then the door. He was still feeling dazed but he was more sure of himself, or he believed he was.

She froze, turning slowly. Her lack of trust was clear in her eyes. "Empty your pockets." She murmured the words as quietly as John has spoken.