Slendie RP, Anyone?

"Are you sure?" He asks while keeping his eyes locking onto hers. "You seem quite shaken up. What is it he did to you?"

"He.. He appeared." She whimpered softly, dropping her gaze to the floor. "And I'm sure. I.. I live over there." She pointed to her house.

"He's meant to be a myth, isn't he?" He asks casually. "I don't believe it is wise for you to return home yet..."

"He was here. Behind.. Behind her." She pointed at Zaz. "You have to help me. Us." She looked at him desperately, eager to pass the responsibility to someone else.

His face drains of some colour and his eyes start to burn with an inner-intensity. "What do you want me to do?" He asks quietly.

(Name: Louis
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Skills: Free running, pickpocketing, violin, basic hand-to-hand combat, and knowledge of the supernatural.
Personality: A polite, neat gentleman who tends to appear distant when directly spoken to, as though his mind is permanently on other matters.
Reason for being out: On his way to investigate supposed 'paranormal' activity in the local forest
Carrying: Mobile, notebook, pencil, and a wallet.
NSFW*: Unlikely.)

(Accepted. Feel free to start posting.)

"I.. I.." She stuttered. She hid her face back in her hands. "I don't know." Tears filled her eyed again.

(Thank you.)

Louis stalked towards the edge of trees, where the seemingly endless carpet of dying leaves and bone-like twigs finally gave way to good, familiar concrete, coloured slightly orange by the stuttering street lamps. With a small, graceful leap, he cleared a particularly large branch; his highly polished shoes landed silently on the cracked pavement as he clasped his slender gloved hands behind his back.

Without even a backwards glance at the forest that he had travelled so far to see, he began to make his way down the street with a dancer's grace, his feet moving as surely as any professional tap-dancer as his sparkling blue eyes took in the swirling snow with a hint mischievous glee. However, his small moment of silent contemplation was brought to an end as he saw two figures embroiled in an aura of high emotion: a young girl, clearly upset by something, and a man quite a few years older than his-self.

With a small adjustment to his long, trailing scarf, he moved towards them, a small frown playing across his pale face.

Hannah cried heavily into her hands as despair gripped her. She didn't want to die. Of course she didn't. Images of Slender Man danced behind her eyes and she knew that, if she survived, she wouldn't feel safe enough to sleep properly for weeks, months even. She suddenly ached to hold the knife again. At least she could trick herself into feeling protected with it in her palm.

"Hey, relax, Hannah..." He tries to get her to look at him but keeping the knife reasonably close to his hand so he could grab it if need be. "I think you should go back home, but your parents will now you've been upset horribly. ..." He sighs and scratches his brown beard. "I think you should come and have some coco at my bungalow, to help you calm down and get your bearings."

Louis quickened his step as he sensed a peak in the girl's despair: it was clear from her expression, even in the poor light which strained his eyes, that she was fearing for her very life. Louis gave the man with her a quick look up and down as he pulled level with the two of them, wincing very slightly as he entered the circle of unnatural yellow light, already feeling the dull pound of a headache blossoming behind his eyes.

'What appears to be the problem?' he asked, his voice so lightly accented that it added just the barest hint of musical undertone to his question.

Harold looked over at the newcomer. "I don't know. She was startled by someone appearing from the woods." He cups his hands together behind his back. "Who are you? Do you know her? As I do not and wish to return to my nightly stroll" Anyone from the town can regognise the local hermit, as the man with many rumours and controvesy surrounding him.

Hannah gasped, spinning at the sound of the voice behind her. She had been about to accept Harold's offer when she heard the stranger's question. When she turned to see him, she stopped breathing. He reminded her exactly of the terrible entity that she had seen, and she backed away from him, flinching when she bumped into Harold. She stared at the stranger in horror.

Louis's heat skipped at the girl's adverse reaction to him. Hurriedly he stepped back into the shadow beyond the street light's reach that they huddled under, so not to distress her any more.

However, the man's explanation had sent a great spear of excitement through his mind. Finally, an actual witness of a spectre in the forest.

'I'm afraid I'm not from around here, friend. I've actually heard rumours of this forest, about a ghost of some sort that apparently manifests itself within this area.' Carefully, he reached out a thin hand, gauging the reaction of the girl as he offered it to the man. 'I'm known as Louis, I work for a paranormal investigation organisation.'

When Hannah backs into him, he places a hand on her shoulder, he moves up beside her. He shakes Louis' hand, his grip is firm, his gloves very cold. "Harold. I don't believe in ghosts and I'm unemployed."

Louis nodded, his eyes burning with sudden enthusiasm as he looked upon Harold with a new respect. 'Many don't, which makes my job all the more difficult, unfortunately.' He gave the man a little tentative smile, testing the waters, before he turned to the girl.

With an elegant, sweeping bow, he removed his bowler hat; bending low as his legs twisted to bring him to her face level.

'I apologize for upsetting you, my dear,' he murmured, his accent thickening as his voice quietened.

A ghost? Hannah stared at Louis with fear. Someone else was after Slender Man? She froze in horror, truly disturbed that people would want to go after something as awful and murderous as him. With a soft cry, she turned and ran to her house, the only place she felt remotely safe.

Harold looked over at Hannah running back to her house. "I don't think we should go after her, Louis. It's better that I, certainly return to my home as well, I don't want to upset any of the typical vandals and thugs." He turns back to the direction he came.

Louis straightened slowly, his eyes dimmed as the witness fled. With a sigh, he flicked his hat back onto his head, covering his neat, black hair once more. So close to an actual account of an otherwise seemingly fictional spirit.

Louis nodded at the departing figure of Harold. 'I suppose you are correct, sir.'

However, he couldn't quite rid of the sense of loss that was gnawing through his mind. So close!

He stops in mid-stride and turns around. "Are you planning to go into the woods?" He calmy asks Louis

Hannah sat in the doorway to her home slowly, her face hiding behind her hands. The feeling of sorrow and hopelessness that drifted around Der Ritter like a poisonous cloud plagued her mind. Rubbing her face, as if to cleanse herself of the poison he provided, she ran through everything that had happened this evening. "I should have stayed indoors." she thought, puling up her knees and lowering her arms to her legs. "I'm going to die."

Louis contemplated the shadowy figure of Harold as he brushed a stray strand of hair from in front of his angular face. With a small smile he replied: 'For a man who doesn't believe in ghosts, Harold, you're a superstitious one.' He gave a little shrug, his narrow shoulders arching beneath his black military-style coat. 'I've actually just come from that direction, there's nothing there I can sense.'

He could, however, read the aura of pure, almost sweet, despair whipping around a near-by house, originating from a small but powerful source near the doorway. His mind pounded as he strained his 'sight', catching a brief glimpse of a girl in the middle of hopelessness.

Hannah rummaged in her pockets, fishing out her phone and tapping in her friend Alice's number. Pressing the expensive piece of technology to her ear, she prayed for signal. Her prayers remained unanswered when a low beeping announcing a lack of service called into her ear. She whimpered and lowered her phone. Alice would have known what to do. Hannah pressed her forehead to her knees. She was truly alone.

With a slight incline of his head, Louis turned to leave: however, his step faltered as a violent presence scraped across his already fragile mind. The pain was almost unbearable for him, and resulted in him leaning heavily against the nearby lamppost, hands pressed forcefully over his eyes as bright lights shot across his vision.

Slowly, his mind calmed, the malevolent being withdrawing. Louis was left with a sense of bottomless despair and fear which pounded through him from that girl's house. With signals like that, she was sure to attract the damned.

Hannah stood and headed to her room. Every shadow was an animal, every noise was malicious. She sat on her bed and wrapped her arms around her body, gazing out of her window and on to the street. She hummed a line of haunting, familiar music that belonged to an old story her German omi had told her as a child to calm herself.