I met C today.
Her name is Crystal. She's 26 years old. Seven years older than me.
We met at a library at 5pm, about three and a half hours ago. She's a really pale woman, with dark, sunken-in eyes and long, tangled, unevenly cut hair. She was wearing a bunch of old clothes, and I think I saw some crust in the fabric. I don't want to know how long it's been since she washed them.
We sat down at a table in the back of the library. Obviously, I can't remember the exact words of our conversation, but I'll try my best to get this accurate as possible:
"So," I said, as we sat down. "You're C?"
"'Crystal' will do," she told me. "I was in a library in Los Angeles when I found your blog."
"They have libraries in Los Angeles?"
She ignored my little attempt at a joke. "I don't know what I was looking for exactly. I guess I was trying to find some evidence of it's existence... Anyway, I somehow found your blog, and I saw the Twin Triangles on one of your pictures--"
I interrupted her there. "You saw the what?"
"The Twin Triangles. That's what I call it anyway. It's its symbol-- two triangles, one upside down, overlapping each other. I don't know if there's some sort of official name, but the symbol shows up wherever it does. Those pictures you posted of that construction site... It was scratched into a wall. That's how I knew the Archangel was targeting you."
We were silent for a moment, and then I asked: "What is the Archangel?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, exactly. Some sort of... thing. I guess the best way to explain it would be to explain how I met it." She hesitated. "I was born and raised in Montreal. My family had me, my mom, my dad, and my older brother David. Anyway, about six years ago my brother was killed in a car accident." She hesitated again. "He was dead... I helped clean out his room, I saw them put the coffin in the ground... but he was there too. At the funeral. The cemetery. I saw him just standing there behind a tree, watching."
There was a long pause after that. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't think of what. Thankfully, she continued before anything came to mind: "I kept seeing him, throughout the next few weeks. Standing outside my window. Walking across the street. I saw him in the mall once. He was following me. I thought I was going crazy... I never told anyone, though. Just kept it to myself. Then one night, I was at a party. I was walking back to my car, drunk out of my mind... and he was there in the passenger seat. Nearly shocked me into sobriety. Then he attacked me."
It was at this point that I was reminded of my own encounter with one of the recently departed.
"I don't remember much of that night," Crystal continued. "Most of its blur. Somehow I managed to get away. I guess I must gone sober at some point, since I managed to get home without wrecking. That's when I found the first note. It was written in my brother's handwriting. Had the Twin Triangles drawn on it, and said something about how I should embrace the Archangel. No capital letters either. I went to my room, locked the door and windows and curled up in my bed. I don't think I slept at all that night. It was like that for the next few weeks. Notes left at my door, my brother... and I started seeing other people too-- people I knew who had died. My grandma... My uncle... I never saw them together-- I don't think the Archangel can use more one body at a time."
I interrupted her again here. "What?"
"That's what it does, or at least that's what I think it does. The Archangel... I don't think it has a physical body, so it needs to use the dead to interact with the world. Anyway, after a few more weeks of this, I just withdrew all my money from the bank, quit my job, left a few messages for the people who knew me, and ran. I managed to sneak across the border, down to the States, and I've been running ever since, taking up whatever jobs are available to me to keep the cash flowing. But the Archangel's never been far behind, so I've had to keep moving." She leaned back, and I realized for the first time that there were tears in her eyes, and she had been struggling not to cry since she'd started this story. "I don't know why it's after me, and I don't know why it's after you, and I don't know anything about a Slender Man, either. But, Joey, listen to me: you have to run. This thing won't just let you go. If you stay here, you'll die, and that thing will take your body and start parading around with it. You can come with me if you want-- just don't stay here."
...I don't feel like posting the rest of what happened. I'm sorry, guys, but there's a lot I need to think about.