Paranormals

Run. That was all that Daemon could do, run. Despite the pain in his head and side, he kept running. The flashlight around his neck flickered nervously, almost completely dead. Daemon had already collected four of the eight pages and had only seen Slendermane a few times from a distance, but he knew his luck was running thin. The very air around him was charged with a fearful intensity.

Daemon cut his way through the forest directly towards the peculiar building and rusted tankers. He rested on the side of the brick building, trying to catch his breath. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, yet he was shivering from the cold of the night. His heart was pumping a million beats per second, and adrenaline was the only thing keeping him standing. In his moment of respite, he looked at the notes he had collected.

“‘Give it back’, ‘Thief’, a picture of some weird tree, and ‘No escape’; It’s like Slendy thinks I stole from him or something,” Daemon panted, “Just gotta keep going, no turning back now.”

Daemon continued into the building, he carefully inspected the walls of each room. Finally he came upon another note inside the final room; it read: Retribution will be paid. Daemon snatched it from the wall and turned to leave. A large volume of static filled his ears, Slendy was standing right behind him.

Daemon immediately closed his eyes and bolted past Slendy, shoving him off balance in the process. Once past him, Daemon shot open his eyes and ran for the exit, sprinting at full force.

As he shot out back into the frigid night air, a sickening thought came to mind.

“What’s going to happen this time if I manage to get all eight pages?” He asked himself half out of breath. The last time he collected the eight pages, he blacked out and ended up in the medical wing of Paranormals. Would it be any different this time? Or would he not survive to find out? Slendy seemed to be extremely angry at him for stealing something that he didn’t know even existed. The situation seemed hopeless… he stopped for a moment. Daemon gave himself a painful slap to the face.

“No! I’m not going to give up now! I just gotta focus; If push comes to shove, what am I going to do? Play hide-and-seek for the rest of my life?” he asked himself. Daemon thought for a moment, letting his breathing slow itself. He walked over to the tankers; though the tanks had rusted considerably, he could still see his reflection on the metal’s less corroded surface. He stared into his reflection; Daemon swore he could see his friends standing there next to him, and if he listened, he could almost hear them.

“You really are in trouble, aren’t you?” reflection Stevens asked, “But don’t worry, if anything happens, I’ll be there to put you back together.”

“And I’ll be there too!” reflection Omen added, “I can already foresee that everything will be fine, no need to worry about it! Of course, I probably will…”

“Don’t you dare think about dying on me Shade,” fake Pensive ordered. She always called him by his last name, only occasionally slipping up and calling him Daemon. “I would never forgive you if you let yourself get beaten by this demon. You better not lose hope yet!”
Daemon found himself smiling, it seemed that he wasn’t alone in this situation; he always had his friends there at his side. The fake Spirit stepped forward.

“That’s more like it Daemon! As marish as it sounds, I can’t imagine you not smiling like an idiot all the time. I never took you for the type that gives up so fast, so prove me wrong again,” fake Spirit said with a huge grin on his face, “Keep going, you’ll find a way out of this; you always do.”

The mirages disappeared, and Daemon could only smile at that point. He looked around at the tankers, and saw a page gently swaying from one. He didn’t even bother to read it, he just snatched it up and turned to face the clear night sky.

“I know you’ll find me guys. I’ll hold out as long as I can, but I’m trusting you to find me,” he called to the sky. Hearing the distinct sound of static behind him, Daemon dashed into the forest once again.
………………………………………………

Pensive quickly trotted into the medical wing of Paranormals. She fully trusted Spirit to look after Book Butterfly while she worked. She needed to see how Omen was doing in preparation for the rescue mission. Turning the corner, she came to the hallway of all the scientists recruited into Paranormals. Pensive only had to walk a couple doors down when she came to Stevens’s room. She knocked on the door.

Pensive had known Dr. Stevens even before she started as a director of Paranormals, back when she had been a case of Paranormals. Despite him being twice her age, Pensive considered Stevens a close friend and a helpful second in command. Pensive could always trust him to take charge should anything happen to her, and knew that he could run her part of Paranormals without her around. Stevens was a teacher to her; he taught her about leadership, ghost hunting, and even magic after her brother’s death.

Stevens opened the door, Pensive could hear another pony’s breathing from inside.

“Ah, Pensive! I knew you would be visiting us sooner or later. Please come in,” Stevens gestured for Pensive to enter.

Upon entering, Pensive saw Omen asleep on the patient's bed. He had a bandage covering his eyes and an IV drip connected to his front leg. An audible sound of breathing came as his stomach rose and fell. His once blond mane had darkened to a golden yellow, accenting his yellow coat.

“Is he going to be okay Stevens?” Pensive asked.

“All things considered, I’m surprised he isn’t more injured,” Stevens answered, “He just passed out from shock. No physical injuries were found when we rushed him to the ER, so we just brought him back to my room for some rest and a psychoanalysis.”

“I see,” Pensive turned to face Stevens, “Tell me Stevens, was it worth it?”

“Well we did locate Daemon, if that’s what you meant,” He answered. Pensive shot him a glare. “That’s not what you meant, okay...”

“Stevens, you could’ve done a million different methods for finding Slendermane besides clairvoyance: scrying, psychic navigation, Tarot readings, anything!” Pensive yelled, “So why clairvoyance? The paper you were given doesn’t even mention it.”

“It was the quickest way to see if Daemon was with him. Sure, scrying or psychic navigation may have been safer options, but what good does it do us if we know where Slendermane is and not Daemon?” Stevens rebuttled.

“It was a dumb and risky move, and now Omen has payed the price!”

“Pensive, you’re thinking with your heart right now. Think logically, Omen isn’t dead and we know where Daemon is. We’ll know for future events that clairvoyance should not be used to find Slendermane.”

“Logically? I’m thinking that you did this on purpose to see what would happen if a psychic saw Slendermane spiritually!” Pensive accused.

“And do you have any proof to this accusation?” Stevens answered back.

“I’ve known you for ten years Stevens, you don’t think that I’d know when a chance to ‘experiment’ comes along?” Pensive glared at Dr. Stevens. “Sometimes you have to think with your heart if you want to prevent a disaster! It’s cold-hearted ponies like you that lead to deserters that join the Spectral Syndicate!” Pensive recalled the group of ponies who had disagreed with Paranormals’s ‘Cold not Cruel’ policies, and had deserted the organization. They had formed their own agency for finding anomalous objects and supernatural phenomena called the Spectral Syndicate, because of their similar goals to Paranormals, they have been feuding with them ever since.

“The Spectral Syndicate are nothing but a ragtag group of delinquents who wanted to use the supernatural power of the afterlife for themselves,” Stevens commented.

“This isn’t about the Spectral Syndicate! This is about your apathy towards other pony’s safety!” Pensive shot back, “I don’t know what you were doing before coming to Paranormals, but you don’t just put another’s life on the line like that!”
Stevens’s face filled with shock, he looked down solemnly at the ground. He didn’t respond to Pensive, he just stared silently, not even looking Pensive in the eye.

“I’m sorry Stevens, that was out of line,” Pensive started, “I didn’t mean to--”

“Don’t bring up my past again,” Stevens shakily said, “That stallion is dead to me, and I never want to become him again,” he spat. Stevens tried to regain his composure, “Sorry, that was out of character for me. I don’t get so shaken this easily; I’m sorry Pensive.”

“I guess we both can get carried away by our emotions, huh,” Pensive glanced over at Omen; she saw him stir, “Omen?”

“Ugh…” Omen groaned, “What happened? Why is everything so dark?” He tried to sit up, but Stevens pushed him back down.

“You’re still recovering from that psychic attack, try and relax,” Stevens comforted, “I need to ask you some questions, if you’re up for it.”

“But why is it so dark? I can’t see anything!” Omen complained.

“You have a bandage around your head; let me take it off for you,” Stevens slowly unwrapped the bandages from Omen’s head, he lazily fluttered his eyes and immediately began to squint.

“Umm, are the lights off or something? I still can’t see much.”

Pensive and Stevens looked at each other with a concerned look.

“Omen the lights are--” Pensive tried to say.

“What can you see?” Stevens interjected.

“Wha-What can I see?” Omen repeated, “Well there’s a purple glow in front of me, kinda looks bright near the top; and there’s a gray light right next to it, but there’s a splotch of red near the top-- near the right side, or would it be it’s left?”

“What else?” Stevens began to jot down notes on a sheet of paper excitedly.

“Everything else is really dark, I think I can see some outlines of like a wall or something. I can’t really tell,” he sputtered, “Am I blind?!”
Pensive was in shock while Stevens eagerly continued, “Does anything change when I do this?” He flicked off the lights.

“No, but that doesn’t answer my question!” Omen panicked, “What if I’m never able to see another spider again? How will I be able to do tarot? This is a disaster!” He catastrophised.

“This- This is incredible! I’ve never seen anything like this!” Stevens was baffled beyond belief. He flicked the lights back on and immediately set off to his desk.

“I don’t think you’re entirely blind Omen,” Pensive walked to Omen’s side; he shuffled to the other side of the bed. “I think you can see Steven’s and my magical aura.” Pensive was just as fascinated as Stevens.

Omen glanced down at his hooves and yelped.

“My hooves! They’re all glowy yellow!” he screamed.

“Omen! Get ahold of yourself!” Pensive yelled back, “What is the last thing you can remember?”

“Remember? That’s right…” he trailed off for a moment, lost in thought, “I remember seeing Slendermane, in that forest, and he looked right at me. I tried cutting off the spell, but it was like it was holding me there, forcing me to stay. I thought I heard a voice in my head, but there was so much static…” he stopped for a moment, his hooves quivering in fright. “I thought it said something like, ‘stare into the abyss too long, and you will stare with the abyss’s eyes’ and then it felt like something was gouging out my eyes. There was so much pain; I was screaming, and I think Stevens was calling for me, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying, there was only static. I guess I fainted after that...”

“Incredible,” Stevens muttered, “The attack seems to have left you with the ability to see the world as Slendermane does!” Stevens trotted back to Omen’s side and started to shine a flashlight into his eyes. “The iris color has dulled immensely, but no signs of cataracts or glaucoma…” He flicked off the flashlight. “It would seem that this is a magical induced condition, how incredibly fascinating. Further tests must be run!”
Stevens pulled out the IV from Omen’s front leg, and Omen yelped.

“What was that for? What did you do?” Omen cried.

“Just removed your IV, or did you not know you had one?” Stevens asked back.

“I did feel a bit woozy… I think the lights are starting to take shape,” Omen responded, “They look like ponies… Oh! That’s you and Pensive I bet!”

“This is all so bizarre,” Pensive commented, “I’m not sure how to feel about this new development.”

“I think this will come in handy,” Stevens said.

“How so?”

“Well, with this new ability, we’ll be able to see Slendermane coming without using visual contact,” Stevens explained, “Omen can just see his aura and tell us where he is!”

“That’s true…” Pensive agreed, “Omen, are you up for a rescue mission?”

“For Daemon right?” Omen asked, “Blind or not, I’ll rescue him any time you are. Daemon’s my friend! The only friend who knows how to make me laugh when I’m scared or sad.”

“Then it’s agreed then, we’re going after him.” Pensive checked the time, only an hour remained until showtime. “Stevens, I want Omen up and moving within the next half hour. We’re meeting in my office.” She trotted to the doorway. “And Stevens, when this is all over, we need to talk.”

“Understood Ms. Pentra,” Dr. Stevens responded.

“Good, the climax of this story is just around the bend, and there will be no surprises from our side, am I understood?”

“Yes Ms. Pentra.”

“Alright, then I’m off.” She walked out the door and back towards her office. Pensive had much to think about: Omen’s new ability, Book Butterfly’s research, Stevens sanity, and so many other things that she couldn’t keep it all straight.

“What would you do brother?” she asked herself. A day didn’t go by without thinking about her brother, Conspir. That day when the lights went off, and Paranormals was in pandemonium, he was the only one who thought of her. That breach was the day he lost his life, and Pensive couldn’t help but blame herself. They had almost made it out, when that pegasus showed up with a gun. There was a single shot, the roof and floor collapsed, and Conspir was gone. If only she wasn’t there to slow him down; if only she could have stopped the bullet; if only…

Pensive shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts of that awful day. It had left an unremovable scar on her mind, and as a philly too. Stevens had tried his best to help her move on but…

She stopped in front of her office, and opened the door softly. Turning on the lights, she wandered to her desk and pulled out a small hoof gun. She pulled out two boxes of ammunition: one with normal bullets, and one with salt rock bullets. Pensive started loading the salt rock variety into the gun. Normal denizens of Equestria don’t normally possess a gun, in order to keep the illusion of peace, but ponies like her had to carry one for protection against the monsters of the night.

Paranormals was an organization that would collect certain objects or organisms with anomalous properties, things that couldn’t be explained with science or magic; like statues that could move when not observed, tapes that could change it’s contents every time it was watched, even a record player that could be used to mind control other ponies. These objects are given the title Supernatural Object or “S.O.” and a number to organize them. S.O.s were also classified by their difficulty to contain: S.O.s that could easily be contained are classified as green, S.O.s that are harder to contain are classified as yellow, and S.O.s that are extremely hard to contain or recapture are classified as red. Some S.O.s needed to be contained constantly, like the statue called S.O. 317, but then there were special cases like herself, that could work alongside Paranormals for the good of all of Equestria.

Then there was the anomalous creatures that couldn’t be captured or contained, and that’s where her department came in. Her department would take any case that other branches couldn’t do, things like ghosts, vampires, monsters, and all sorts of creatures only heard of in legends. When the other branches couldn’t secure it, it was called paranormal and sent straight to Pensive’s to do box. Pensive would then send one or more of her investigators to the incident in question, and have them resolve the issue. As evidence of the incidents resolution, or as a distress signal, investigators wore cameras that directly streamed back to base for observation.

When Daemon’s feed had cut out so suddenly, Pensive had immediately sent back-up, only to find the mansion completely deserted.

Pensive finally finished loading her gun; she reviewed these facts in her head to try and clear out the clutter of confused emotions.
She took a deep breath and thought of her next move carefully. She would have to put together a team to go after Slendermane and Daemon, going alone would spell disaster. She considered her options, there was a whole facility full of investigators that she knew could handle difficult jobs, but none of them had gone up against a monster of this caliber. The only ponies she knew who had encountered the Slendermane were Daemon, Spirit, Omen- just an hour ago-, Dr. Stevens, and herself. So clearly, that had to be her team. Would it be biased to take her friends? Yes. Would there be rumors after this? Yes. But she couldn’t think that far ahead just yet.

She glanced at the clock ticking on her wall, it was nearly twelve. There was a knock at her door, Pensive opened it with her magic. Outside stood Spirit, Book Butterfly, Dr. Stevens, and Omen; they all wore a determined look on their faces. Pensive invited them inside.
The hour struck midnight, it was showtime.