(This next part is later that afternoon. She had mostly calmed down by this point, and was ready to talk again.)
S: It’s fine. Now, you said you saw his real form. Do you remember what it was?
M: There’s no word in our language for something like that, nothing to compare it to…it’s massive, though, the biggest thing I had ever seen, bigger than any animal or human I had ever met…it had so many arms…and its face…
S: It’s real form has a face?
M: I guess this world can’t support it or it must’ve figured it couldn’t get what it wanted, go into public like that…so it takes that human form to move around freely, come and go…
S: And no one else knows about it?
M: If the priests knew, they never said anything. They interrogated me about my encounter for hours afterwards, but I never told them what I had seen…I guess that ironically let them believe I could be trusted.
S: And Lizzie?
M: My parents didn’t want to risk it, not after he almost killed me. So they called off the ritual. We stayed around long enough to be sure she was off his radar, then we had to move on.
S: And you never saw her again?
M: No. We exchanged letters a few times, but life goes on. I’m sure you know that.
S: So you stayed with them until three years ago.
M: Yeah...we had a bit of a...falling out.
S: Meaning what?
M: I killed them.
M: They...they found out I had been helping children targeted for sacrifice escape the rituals. See, after what happened, I didn't want to think about kids being...I just couldn't bear it, not after that. So...I started helping some get away. Not many, one or two at a time, not enough to attract suspicion. But that last one...half their supply got away, just in time for some anniversary ritual. They...didn't like that.
My parents were terrified. They knew if the priests ever found out, then all of us would've been offered up. My father said that Slender Man was angry at everyone...my mother told me that I was going to be offered instead...
I wasn't going to let that happen. I had no desire to be anywhere near him again. So...I had to get away. There was a knife on the counter. I had to get away.
S: You killed your parents...
M: They were going to give me to him. They stopped being my parents.
S: And then-
M: And then I took what I could and ran. I don't think he liked that.
S: What do you mean?
S: What do you mean?
M: I heard someone tell me once, someone else on the run said that the reason Slender Man became so active was because some idiot posted pictures of him on the internet. Well...that's...not entirely the case.
S: You can't be serious...
M: The night I took off, he lost control in the chapel. Most of the hierarchy was slaughtered right away. Those that survived went into hiding. And without anyone to feed him or keep him contained...
S: You mean to tell me the reason he's been getting so active the last couple of years...was because of you?
M: Look, it wasn't intentional! I didn't know he'd get out of control like that! And anyway, it seems contained. In my travels, I've only met a few that have actually seen him. If we can keep it like that-
S: You think this is contained?
S: ...You really don't know, do you?
S: Mary, the last two years has been almost total warfare against this thing. It's chaos all over the country. Alabama, New Jersey, Florida, Indiana, Maryland, London. Since last fall, a couple hundred cases have been logged, and that number gets bigger every day. We've lost good people in the last twelve months, and you're saying the reason for all of this is because you messed with his food supply?
S: Yeah. It's been a fucking mess. There are videos documenting the things he's done, people have been blogging every little detail they can remember. Everyone's looking to me for answers, I'm looking to you, and you're telling me that you're the fucking problem?
M: I didn't...I had no idea...
S: How do you not know?
M: I've been running for three years, I never stay in one place for longer than a week, and I don't own a fucking laptop, cop! I don't go online much, okay?
S: Well, newsflash, I've seen him. I've fought him. My partner, your childhood friend? Sliced open by one of his followers, who then kidnapped, tortured and murdered another one of my partners. I got my throat squeezed by one of his arms. Oh, and best news of all, I'm an FBI wanted felon now, because my idiot fucking neighbor from next door heard me screaming, came into my house to check on me, and got blown away by a shotgun!
M: You...killed your neighbor with a shotgun?
S: No, he...it was a trap, I had it wire-rigged to go off if the door was opened-
M: You jerry rigged a shotgun trap?
S: Does it really fucking matter?
(That last bit was too much for my throat. The next ten or fifteen minutes is me coughing up a lung while she got my medicine. This part ends here.)