Alexandra Valliere's Story

Alexandra


I sat in front of my laptop staring blankly at the screen. After finishing composing my online advertisement telling the world about the recent events in my town, I hovered my cursor above the "Submit" button. It was an invitation to other people who were convinced that the recent disappearings in my town was related to the urban legend that has haunted human civilization for centuries. If I was lucky, some experts in paranormal activities might consider coming over to our town. Or, maybe even people like me, whose lives have been scarred by the monster. I knew I would even get some prank calls and people making a joke about this, but I'm dead serious about this. I want to know the truth about what happened to my father when I was 8 years old. I clicked on the "Submit" button and waited for phone calls and emails to arrive.

Alexandra

After closing my laptop, I pulled out my binder full of scraps from the local newspaper.
One of them read:
15th August
6 year old boy goes missing during hiking trip with family
... Between about 5 PM and 6 PM... the Busch family and several others were hiking through the forest covering south-east Gainsboro Hills...
The sudden disappearance of the boy prompted the family into several hours of frantic search through the dense forest. By 8 PM, the local sheriffs and Gainsboro police department took the lead on the search but produced little to no leads so far. The following day, a man by the name of Herbert Craigswell (53yo) who was driving in his pickup truck from work, testified that he witnessed a highly suspicious man in the viscinity of the forest. Spotting the man around a quarter to 9 PM, he described the man as a very tall, skinny, caucasian man. He also described that he was wearing a dark suit and appeared to have a fully shaved head. Craigswell reported that when he drove a little closer towards the man to get a better look, the man crept away into the dense forest. He told the police that it was too dark to get a better look at the man's face at the time.
If you, or anyone you know have witnessed anything suspicious on 15th of August or the following days, please call the Gainsboro police department. (272) 125-XXXX.

Alexandra

I highlighted the part on the newspaper article about the sole witness. Mr. Craigswell. I decided I would try and contact this man somehow. I got the feeling that he might be hiding some critical details about his encounter. I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling. The sun was crawling over the horizon and cast a darkness in my room. This used to be the time of day when my father came home from work and I would jump into his arms, telling him I missed him since that morning. And then we'd have dinner, cuddle on the sofa and watch movies, then he'd read me bedtime stories beside my bed until I fell asleep...

I shot up from my bed at a loud noise from my laptop. I had fallen asleep for half an hour. I went over to my laptop and saw that a message arrived from a person named Genevieve. Clearly she was interested in the recent happenings in my small town. I gave her the details on the directions to visit my town...

A frigid gust of autumn's morning air lifted the thin, pale curtains in a graceful yet eerie manner. The silence was unnerving. For once, I actually wished the birds would start chirping already. As if somehow answering my internal plea, a couple of goldfinches began to strike up a bright, cheery tune, announcing dawn's arrival. Feeling the heavy weight of tired in my eyes, I rubbed them, my vision reluctantly sharpening my laptop's blinding screen into focus. I had pulled an all-nighter again, not for grading my students' papers nor preparing today's lesson plans but for finding answers. After desperately sifting through endless collections of related articles and police reports released to the public, I came to a dead end, empty-handed.

Just as I was about to climb out of bed and get ready for work, the site I was on refreshed and posted a fairly reccent update. My eyes widened at the search tags: "Gainsboro Hills", "mysterious kidnappings", "help and information wanted". I hastily pulled my pen out from behind my ear and quickly scribbled down the submiter's contact information. Without hesitation, I dialed their number and waited anxiously as the rhythmic tone on the other end blared in my ear. "Come on. Pick up. Pick up."

Alexandra

I received a phone call from a man named Derrick. He was interested in joining the investigations with me. He had a nice voice and seemed just as determined as me for the truth. Shortly after, I got in my car and drove to the place where we decided to meet. I parked my car in front of the town hall building and waiting for this person to show up.

After recieving the location where to meet the submiter, a young woman named Alexandra Valliere, I hastily grabbed my coat and a meager slice of buttered toast. I was surprised they were so willing to meeting so early in the morning, but I couldn't have done it any other way: Faculty must promptly be on campus by nine o' clock. Besides, Ms. Valliere must be as concerned as I am, to be so dedicated.

Once I arrived in front of the town hall building, I got outside my car, pulling up my scarf against the chilly air. Seeing a young woman in front of the town hall steps, I broke out in a slow jog towards her. Before I could greet her, I suddenly realized the slice of toast that I still held onto in my mouth. I turned away, hastily devouring it before facing her more properly. "S-sorry about that. Good morning. Are you Ms. Valliere? I'm Derrick Maple. It's nice to meet you."

Slightly lifting my wrist, I glanced down at my watch: I had about an hour and a half until I'd have to clock in. "Likewise," I replied, in regards to her polite gratitude. Although I was hesitant, I concluded that it would be rude of me to prematurely excuse myself for work. Following Ms. Valliere towards the local diner, I flipped up the collar of my coat, bracing myself against a brisk breeze that burned my cold face. I held the door open for the two of us. The warm aroma of coffee and sweet, pancake batter coaxed us further inside.

I nearly sprayed a mouthful of coffee at Ms. Valliere, at the mentioning of witnessing the mythical Slender Man. Swallowing hard, I regained my composure. "No, I've never seen it. I don't believe anyone has, and that's what frustrates me more: That we could be chasing after something that doesn't even exist." My tone remained calm and steady, but I knew my eyes were intense and fierce, burning with desperate optimism and vengence for the children and other missing victims. "There isn't much information out there in circulation. I've looked into it. Believe me." Flashes of sleepless nights that dragged on into a blurring morning surfaced from my memories. This had gone on for too long, and we needed to bring an end to all this madness. "Unless there were any witnesses, we don't have any leads..." My voice trailed off spitefully, as I sipped my coffee, staring blankly into the swirling foam of dissippating creamer.

"Very well, Ms. Valliere. I'll try decoding the cryptic message during my free time at work. I'll try to interview the Busch family after work. Their son was enrolled in the school I teach at." I took Alexandra's contact information and folded it into my coat pocket. "Well," I took on last sip of my coffee, before standing. "I'll contact you, if I find anything new. Enjoy your morning, Ms. Valliere." I nodded with a smile, as I bid her farewell.

Although it was bright outside, the sun's beams failed to penetrate through the grey overcast looming overhead. Glancing down at my watch, I let out a dreadful groan. "Ugh, I better hurry." Making haste, I quickly climbed into my car and drove to the elementary school.

Alexandra

After I said goodbye to Derrick I got in my car and drove to the hospital where I work. Derrick seemed like a nice guy. I hoped that I could see him again soon. But for now, I had to focus on the investigation. At work I couldn't get my mind off the things that had been featured in the newspapers. I felt like the town was becoming more and more depressing and melancholy. There was fear in peoples' eyes. During the middle of my shift at work a young man was wheeled in with some serious injuries. Apparently he had been in a dangerous car accident, was bleeding heavily, and was unconcious.

I flipped my old phone closed, before letting the call transfer to voicemail. She was probably busy at work.

I proceeded with my lesson for the remainder of the school day. My students were energetic and compliant, and I tried to reply with equal enthusiasm, yet I fully couldn't. My mind was elsewhere, scanning old, irrelevant information, scanning for something significant I may have missed.

As promised, I visited the Busch residence to gather information pertaining to the unfortunate disapperance of their son---Daniel, a former student of mine before I reassigned myself from kindergarden to the second grade. Before I could even ring the doorbell, the door swung open. "Mr. Maple, we've been expecting you. Thank you for calling ahead of time." "Thank you for accepting my request." I bowed my head respectfully, in condolence of their son. After polite, small talk over a cup of tea and cookies in the living room, I eased into the matter at hand. "Mr. and Ms. Busch," I started. The wife inhaled a wavering breath, as though bracing herself. Her husband gingerly placed a reassuring arm around her in response, his delighted expression wilting to a more tense, serious one. "We'll tell you all that we know," he interrupted stiffly, perhaps wanting to get the conversation and my reminding visit over with. I nodded. "During our annual hiking trip last summer, Daniel became quite rambunctious. Despite promising to not let work interfere with our precious time together, we both were called, from work, to report back to work due to an unexpected decrease in available workers. You see, at the time, we were financially struggling and couldn't turn them down, especially since they offered a permanent wage increase." His wife choked back a sob, sensing the inevitable down-turn of events in the account. "The entire time, I felt as though we were being watched. We hadn't come across any fellow hikers or anything suspicious, so I thought nothing of it. I should've noticed. Why didn't I notice?" The veins at his temples buldged, as the tone of his voice rised with burning frustration. His wife embraced him gently, whispering consoling words into his ear. He kissed her forehead, gazing into her tearing eyes, then turned to me. "Sorry. Where was I? ...oh. When we told him the disappointing news, he ran off into the woods beyond our campsite. While looking for him, we came across a barbed, metal fence stretching across an endless span of thicket. Just before our flashlight died out, I caught a glimpse of it---a tall shadow facing us in the distance. I thought it was a man, but...its face was so pale and featureless. I hate to admit it, but I was scared. We both were. Without hesitation, we ran back to camp. I reassured myself that Daniel couldn't have climbed over the fence or seen that...thing. I kept making up excuses and telling myself he'd come back crying for us. That..." He paused, biting his lip and digging both hands into his knees. His knuckles whitened painfully. I swallowed, unsure whether politely coaxing him to continue was rude. After several brief moments of composing himself, he saved me from making such a pressing decision in the already tense situation. "That was the last time we saw our Daniel." He lifted his head, eyes seething with vengence and bitter hatred. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, despite knowing such boiling anger wasn't directed towards me. "Please Derrick. May I call you Derrick?" He continued, before I could respond. "Please find this sick bastard. Please put everyone's souls to rest and for everyone's missing loved ones to find peace. If he's still alive-" "Mr. Busch, we can't conclude that he isn't-" "Whether he is or not, please bring our Daniel home. I beg of you!" He humbly lowered his head. My insides twisted at the man's low, pathetic state of desperate pleaing. I quickly stood and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't you worry. I'll find your son. I won't let this guy get away with this."

"You're a good man, Derrick," he called out to me as I started towards my car parked against the sidewalk. I looked over my shoulder, grinning modestly. "I'd like to think so."

After returning home and feeding Max---my German Shepard---and myself, I recieved a phone call from Ms. Valliere, while grading my student's homework. I informed her of what information I gathered from the visiting the Busch residence, as she filled me in on the unsettling yet useless note.

Nicholas D. Keller

My bike screeched to a halt. I checked my watch for the time; it was eight- thirty in the morning by the time I reached Gainsboro Hills. The town was quiet and peaceful, well, as far as I could tell. But I don't have the greatest track record when it comes to observation. Anyway, I pulled into some cheap motel, there were no vacancies but that didn't matter too much. I only pulled in so I could look up the number of the chick who was running this 'investigation' or whatever you want to call it. I put up the kick- stand and hopped off. I did a couple stretches, it's been about two hours of solid riding and it felt good to stand up.

"My freakin' ass is asleep." I moaned as I pushed my pelvis out-ward and cracked my back. I stood up straight and walked over to my satchel sitting on the back of the bike. "Alright, time to get down to business." I said as I looked through my phone for this girl's number. "Alexandra Valliere." I mouthed out as I found her number.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

I started whistling out a tune, holding the phone to my ear, waiting for her to pick up.

"Yo, I heard you're looking for people to help with your investigation." I said when she finally picked up, "I was thinking I could help you out." I grinned, "Ya' know, if that's okay with you."

Plagued by vivid, formidable thoughts, I managed to drag myself through the school day, without arousing suspicion from staff and students. My concentration and train of thought deteriorated, as the high, noon sun retreated behind the rough mountains beyond Gainsboro Hills. Shameful humiliation devoured my consciousness: I was a grown man, warily jogging towards my house, anxiety rapidly rising at every shifting shadow. My imagination magnified the darkness and ominous, looming trees along the neighborhood sidewalk. Their scraggly branches hungrily descended into the path, like ravenous talons menacing and still before snatching up unsuspecting prey. I quickened my pace, hesitantly scanning the bare branches, as I rushed beneath them.

My usual, vibrant, cardinal door transformed to a repulsive crimson, with the impending arrival of night. I rummaged through my coat pockets for my keys, my clammy hands fumbling with the chinking metal. Finally unlocking my front door, I hastily closed it behind me. My eyelids felt heavy, and I knew dark rings hung beneath my eyes. Exhaling a wavering sigh, I leaned my back against the door, allowing my weight to pull my weary body slowly to the wooden floor. The strap of my messenger bag slipped off my shoulder and fell beside me with a dull "thud". Rubbing my sore eyes, I buried my face in my hands. Ending this wouldn't only be for the sake of the victims and their families but for my sanity and peace of mind as well. Not wanting to fall into the depths of panic and stress, I unearthed my cellphone from my cluttered bag and dialed Ms. Valliere's number. Despite my notable capacity of patience, I was growing anxious by the second. We had to solve this town's mysterious case soon.