Amid the heart of England, filled with vibrant colors and laughter, there stood a young boy, his appearance a stark contrast to the joy that surrounded him. His raven hair, matted and unkempt, falls over his forehead, partially concealing a large, lightning-shaped scar. It's an unusual mark, as if he was struck by a bolt from the heavens.
His eyes, a startling bright green, are the most captivating feature. They hold a depth of wisdom and sadness that seems too heavy for his tender years. These eyes have seen hardship, but they also carry an unyielding spark of resilience. His gaze, though haunted, hinted at a spirit that refused to be broken, a glimmer of hope that refused to be extinguished.
His skin, a deep tan from relentless days under the English sun, is a patchwork of scars. Each scar tells a silent tale of survival, of battles fought and won. They stand as a testament to his strength and ability to endure.
Dressed in tattered rags that barely clung to his small frame, it was evident that this young boy had suffered from the cruel hands of abuse. Once vibrant and full of life, the fabric hung loosely, bearing the stains of tears and dirt. The clothes seemed to mirror the scars that lay hidden beneath, a reflection of the pain he had endured.
Yet, amidst the shadows that clung to his existence, a glimmer of innocence remained, a fragile light that refused to be extinguished.
but... as he grew the more it wore down on him, the more he began to realize that being locked in a cupboard for the rest of his life was unacceptable, so he simply got rid of these thoughts and the people who had caused them, people can assume that that is what led him here.
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A small child can be seen working in the backyard of his family's home, his hair always mad and unruly, his hands bearing loose bandages and band-aids as his dark tanned skin shines in the sun, a pair of cracked glasses laid on his nose as he kneels in the dirt, quietly digging through the dirt with his hands or watering the beautiful garden.
Yet as a shout comes from the home his green eyes look up, looking at his horse of a aunt, he stands, a foul feeling in his stomach as he walks quickly towards her. Her face twisted in disgust at his form "you have five minutes to clean yourself, be quick." She speaks as she quickly moves away from his dirtied body in revulsion.
He nods, careful not to get the dirt in his hair onto the floor as he quickly goes to the bathroom with his hands full of oversized clothing.
He gets in the shower after undressing, quick to rinse himself off without using soap, knowing that they would punish him for such, as they have before.
He gets out of the cold water, quickly dries off, and gets dressed in similar clothing to the last outfit he wore. A large dirtied blue shirt with more large pants, a single belt that he owned wrapped in its hoops that just keeps it from falling down.
He goes to the kitchen quickly, his aunt already there before he begins to cook a feast for his 'family' or everyone but himself.
As the sun fell the neighborhood of privet drive became quiet, only the lights on the street lighting the night, everyone in a deep slumber, besides the small boy that hid away in his cupboard, his mind racing as he feels the coldness that he has become accustomed to, the sounds of locks unlocking, his eyes a glowing green hue with his raven hair sprawled everywhere.
He haltingly opens the small and narrow cupboard door with an eerie creeeeeak, he pauses in his tracks, only for a second, before walking towards the dark kitchen, only the moonlight that shines through the window, lighting the path for him, no noise can be heard as he does so, his breathing controlled into a relaxed rhythm. His hand grips onto one of the chef knives that he so often uses to cook for the family.
He turns around with the large object in hand, making his way up the stairs with quiet steps.
He stops in front of a wide bazaar colored door that is located at the very end of the hall, he opens the door with a very quiet creek, he freezes for a moment as his walrus of a uncle turns on the bed, snoring obnoxiously, the child raises an eyebrow, he doesn't exactly like to insult walrus's with comparing his uncle to them but he can't help it, a dark giddy feeling erupts in his stomach as he closes the door behind him, the dark feeling that he is familiar with bubbles up in his skin, he normally calls it the void, his grip on the chef knife tightens as he slowly stalks towards his aunt, knowing that his uncle is a very deep sleeper.
His eyes glow as he looks down at her, the room dark and plain with only moonlight decorating the room, he brings the knife up, the void releases into the room, surrounding both of his 'guardians', he brings the knife back down to his aunt, it slowly piercing into her neck, as he brings it down the injury gets more and more larger and deeper, blood spraying across his face as he wills his aunt to stay silent and keep her eyes closed.
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The child, covered in dark crimson blood, walks alongside the tall creature that couldn't be called human, his small hand encased in the white one of the faceless being as they walk up a long stone path towards the hauntingly large, old, and towering mansion, shrouded in darkness with looming trees and thick mist surrounding it.
The distant echoes with birds calling out in screeches, the cold air that he has come to enjoy brushes against him, blowing into his ear, makes him feel a bit more at peace and comfortable than he had ever felt in his life, a new sensation that makes him giddy with joy.
As they walk intothe large doors the young boys hand clenched onto the entities tighter. They are met with a empty room with a large staircase infront of them, the interior a dark brown and black color scheme, two seperate white staircases traveling up and to the second floor with another single white staircase traveling down wards into a place he couldnt see, the other places covered in darkness where his already straining eyes coudnt see.
They walk down the staircase that travels down, fire lighting their way as they head down before the boy notices they come from a stop, From the end of the staircase you could see four different spaces in the airy floor. To the left there was a large space with multiple different comforters, such as couches, loveseats, beanbags, and armchairs, most consisting of darker colors such as midnight, onyx, ebony, dark antique violet, and more of the sorts although he noticed two different colored beanbags that dont fit in, one a light rose quart color and the other a amaranth color, both slightly standing out but he brushed it aside as he noticed one of the large couches of dark marine blue pushed against the far side.
'Im guessing that this is the living room, then' the boy thinks as he is startled out of his thoughts, not having noticed the four people on the taupe couch that faces the large tv screen on the very left side of the room, hanging against the wall with multiple different types of CD's and more underneath, also facing the opposite of the boy.
He stares at the back of the four boys head, all four of them arguing about something, one boy has brown hair and brown eyes, who occasionally flinch's or tics, he has a pair of yellow goggles on his head and a weird mask on him, at least the boy thinks so. One has dirty blonde hair that is pulled up into a high ponytail that reaches his collarbone; a strange green hat on top of his head. He has blood running down his cheeks, from his black and red eyes as his body is covered in a strange green uniform-like. Along with slight marks on his neck as he glitch's.
Another has a bloodied white sweater, a carving into his completely white face of a smile on his lips, black eyes wide without blinking as his black hair is pulled into a low bun. The last has a dark gray hoodie on, his face covered by a dark blue mask, two black circles over the place where his eyes would be as his skin is a gray skin tone.
The boy looks back up towards the tall faceless man before his eyes go towards the shadowed corner, his grin brightening as he notices Thanatos, or death as he allows the boy to call him, he has always been by the boy's side through his hardships and the dangers of his once alive family.
The boy jumps slightly as a slightly high-pitched voice comes from behind him, sounding like a child's voice, his head turning to see a girl with curly brown hair, green eyes, a pink nightgown on and dried blood running down her face from her forehead. "Ooo! Slendy, did you bring a new friend!" The voice of a girl Spoke happily as she jumped up and down excitedly, her two gapped teeth showing as she smiled widely.
The small boy shivered and hid himself behind the faceless entity as all the room's occupants' attention was on him. "This is Charon, he will be joining us from now on so I expect you to behave." The entity spoke into the minds of those around it, all nodding in response before the faceless figure began to lead Charon away once more towards the opposite side of the living room, into what looks to be a kitchen.
His emerald green eyes scan the huge wooden kitchen. As his eyes cast upwards, they widened at the ceiling, full of untold stories and breathtaking art.
The large space in the middle, showing worn down dark marble on the ground, surrounded by ovens, microwaves, pots, pans, stoves, utensils, and more. A single chandelier centered in the middle of the room, dangling from the towering roof. All a similar type of dark mahogany wood and dark marble.
The small malnourished boy followed the tall entity, as they walked through the immense, arched, cased opening which the boy hadn't realized was there before.
He breathes out in awe as he looks at the large dark wooden table that is decorated in candles, chairs on either side of the long table, a chair at the left side of the table for the head. Two huge chandeliers positioned above the two ends of the table, a immense painting behind the head of the table, in the painting it shows a beautiful but cruel scene of bloody bodies that lay dead on the ground, some in soldier uniforms, other in peasant outfits, the beautiful crimson color that decorates the olden scene brightening the dark skies.
A large window allowing moonlight to dance across the table and floors shines directly towards the cased opening they walked through, on the other side of the table. "Quite breathtaking isn't it?" The entity besides him spoke, making the small boy slightly jump before nodding.
The entity once again led the boy across the hall, entering two large doors and into a massive room with towering shelves of worn down books, some new, some looking like they would turn to dust if you put a single finger on them, the boys body moved on its own as it took in the amount of books, a small sitting area near the far corner. A big fireplace in the wall, in front of two large black couches, two loveseats, and an armrest, along with a few dark wooden tables in between, and a dark blue rug with intricate patterns on the floor in front of it.
After a while Charon finally went back to slenderman, his eyes trailing over the books again before trailing after the faceless man, knowing that he will be visiting the knowledgeable place more than once in the future. "We will be going to your room next" the entity said, making Charon fidget nervously with the hem of his bloody and oversized shirt as he walked up stairs.
After a bit of walking through a long hallway with multiple different doors they finally come to a stop in front of a grey door with a gold sign on near the top, showing the name,
Charon
Charon opened the door with a slight creek, his eyes widening in awe as even though it was a bland room, it was the first real room he had had. In the corner of the room, an unlit fire sits nestled in the fireplace, its potential warmth untapped. Against the far left of the room sits a dark wooden wardrobe, next to that sits a small desk that has a mix of paper, quills, and pencils that has a soft hue of yew wood. The bed, soft and small, beckons with its simple allure, promising rest and tranquility on the far right side of the room. The room is adorned with plain colors, a palette of muted grays, whites, and browns that lend an air of simplicity and minimalism, the walls plain and untouched.
"This will be your room for as long as you stay here," slender says before leaving charon to his own mind.
He instantly goes to close the worn down maroon drapes of the windows that are next to the fireplace, darkness invading the room, his eyes almost instantly adjusting to the darkness like many times before, his green hues going towards one of the couches in front of the fireplace, a dark figure sat down on it, their white bony hands wrapped around a large scythe that they rest on the floor, Charon's expression brightens up before walking quietly and quickly towards the figure.
|child| the figure speaks; their voice a low rattle, breathy, and croaky, their face obscured by their long dark robe, a large tear on the bottom from some unknown source.
Charon eagerly sits down on the floor in front of them, puffing his chest towards the being as he sits impatiently, awaiting their words in the dark and cold room, although the cold is quite comfortable for the child.
|I want to say that I am proud firstly, but also I am happy that you had your first kill, all without my help.| the being spoke with slight fondness, although very hard to hear in their tone. |I want to know how you will go about now that you are in this knew.. situation, as to say, and what you plan to do in the meantime.|
Charon sits with straight posture, having finally hid his expression in a mask of some sort, his eyes impending on the figure as he thinks, his hands unmoving in his lap as he sits undeniably still. "First I want to see if I will be safe, Az, living here, I know that I cannot die but that doesn't mean that I will not feel pain, which I do wish I don't. I also know that the people living here are somewhat insane and do kill for a living. I had thought about this once I had met slenderman, as much as he does creep me out." He stops to hum thoughtfully "and so I will wait in the meantime, observing, I do not wish to leave and I also don't wish to be seen as a threat or see them as a threat."
The dark figures head moves down, indicating a nod before standing, their figure towering over Charon |then, child I will be taking my leave, remember, if you need me, call.| They said before disappearing, a loud gust of cold wind came to the boy; Charon had always found comfort in Azrael's visits, and his cold warmth that he brought.
The boy hums softly, his mind thinking in the cold darkness of the room, his green eyes that have a flash of insanity in them shines brilliantly in the darkness. A grin coming upon his face as he looks out dazed and out of this world. He stands up before happily opening his door, a stream of light from the outside entering the darkness before he exits his room and closes the door behind him.