It was a foggy, dark night. The trees shook in the slight breeze, and the moon cast a eerie shadow on the ground. No insects hummed, no birds sang. Only vast, dead silence.

A young filly woke up on the ground, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Scootaloo looked at her surroundings, and her eyes widened. She was in a forest, right in the center of a clearing. Nothing could be heard except her heart, and her fast, shallow breathing. She looked around again, trying to get her bearings. The clearing was illuminated by the bright glow of the moon, and leaves on the ground danced under her hooves. She sat down, trying to make sense of the situation.

She was lost, it was dark, and she had to get home.

She stood up, and started moving along the path. The shadows danced in the pale glow, and her mind wandered. There could be all manner of vile creatures, waiting for her to stumble unknowingly into their grasp. Her eyes widened at the thought, and she started sweating profusely. Scootaloo, despite what she had said in the past, had Achluophobia since she got lost one night, in the Everfree. But this was not the Everfree, nor was it anywhere that she even remotely recognized. The trees were taller than any she had seen before, and loomed above her as if posed to kill. The young filly gulped, and she found herself in front of a large, dead oak tree. It stood at least twice the height of the filly, and the trunk was immensely thick. In spite of the darkness, the little filly felt drawn to the tree. She circled it, and finally found something different. It was a piece of paper, and scrawled on it was a rather peculiar image. A circle, crudely hand drawn, outlined several times. And in the middle, was a large, bold X.

Scootaloo was puzzled, and stuck the paper under her wing. She decided it was best to make haste. So she ran down the dirt road, stumbling every so often. When she had to catch her breath, she looked around and saw that she stood in front of a large, abandoned house. The paint had been weathered away by the elements, and the door creaked on rusty hinges. The windows were cracked and filthy, so she had trouble seeing in. Frustrated and afraid, she kicked the wall. Now with her hoof throbbing, she made her way inside. It was dark, but on the floor in front of her, she saw a flashlight, illuminated by the moon's glow. She rushed to it and picked it up, and flicked it on. The walls were cracked, old photos of a family hung loose and faded, the color drained from it completely. The floorboards were rotting, and a few fell down into the blackness. Scootaloo shined her light down, but couldn't see the bottom. She took a medium sized rock from outside, and threw it down. She waited and waited, but never heard it hit the bottom. She shuddered, and tried to step over weakened boards. She went upstairs, and stopped abruptly. The air seemed thick with dread, and her breathing became harder. She felt a presence here, A presence that shook her soul. She glanced around, wondering what the source could be. Something tapped at the window, and she jumped. But, however much she tried to run, she was stuck, glued to the spot.

A long, dreary silence set in, the only thing Scootaloo could hear was her heartbeat, and a ringing in her ears. Just then, she started convulsing, her vision becoming blurry. When the fit subsided, she got back up. But something felt odd.

It felt like something was watching her.

She started hyperventilating. She needed to get out. This wasn't right, nothing seemed right tonight. She turned to the door, but stopped suddenly. Out the window, near the edge of the tree line, she saw a figure. It was tall, standing at least a full half height above Celestia herself. It was pale, more white than snow. It just stood there, gazing up at Scootaloo. But the most disturbing detail, was the face. Or rather, the lack thereof. It had no visible facial features, and it filled Scootaloo with fear. She didn't know where she was going, but she ran.

She had to get away.

She ran until she came to a fence, and climbed over it. The fog started to clear, and Scootaloo could see better now. "W-what was that... thing. She looked around, and saw that she was near Fluttershy's cottage. Feeling relieved, and thankful to be away from the creature, she started for the Cutie Mark Crusader's clubhouse, as it was turning morning. She hoped that was the last time she saw the monster. She was wrong.

Author's Note

Alright, I'm a big fan of the Slenderman legend. I've also done my fair share of studying, so yes I believe it may exist. It IS questionable, but there's little doubt in my mind.

Anyhoo, I just wanted to give this a shot, and this seemed like the perfect time to do it. It's also occurred to me that this has been done before. But I still wanted to have a go at it, so here it is. I hope you enjoy!