Trapped

So much happened last night I dont even know where to start.
Shit. I think that's the best word to describe it. A whole lot of shit descended upon my home and has left me under house arrest for the time being.

It all started at about 3 am when I heard a huge THUD against the door, as if something was throwing its full weight against it. I bolted up, grabbed my war club (it's primitive but effective. got to love the Maoris )  and got closer to the door.

Our friendly neighborhood  "Seedeater" was there, desperately trying to break through. He rammed into it, shoulder first, one more time before sitting back and looking up at me helplessly. I couldn't see his exposed eye clearly...but it looked like he was pleading for help. I heard him start whimpering to himself. Something about being "so hungry", "so sorry" and then starting to growl about "broken promises" and reflecting on why he "never trusted anyone before anyway".

I don't know why I began to pity that monster...but I started to unlock the door. It felt like the right thing to do at the time and I don't fully understand the thoughts running through my own mind at the time. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. As I started to swing the door open, it raised its head brightly. It began to rise up from the ground, thanking me.

The moment it began to encroach upon me, I came to my senses and slammed the door in its face. It was at this exact moment that the other guy...this "slenderman" figure...suddenly appeared directly on the other side of the door. There was no fade or transition. It was a case of "one second he's there, the next he's not".
He was standing at about 7 and a half foot, per usual. He sort of had his arms outstretched, tentacles emerging from his back like before. I ran to a higher floor, bringing what bedding I could. As I started running up, I caught sight of his hands turning into a twisting mass of tendrils, rushing out to ensnare him. He roared out and ripped the tendrils off. The tall cunt showed no real evidence of pain. he just stood there with his torn arms still flailing at the stumps, looking at him with no blood evidently dripping.

A few hours later I decided to creep down and grab my laptop. There was no sign of them near by bedroom, though in the morning I caught a glimpse of the seedeater feasting upon a few of the tentacles and tendrils he ripped off. He looked disgusted, but he was desperate for meat.

I get the feeling he doesn't like hunting children at all, with the way he was apologising. . I think he's just desperate for food.

I'm just glad my grandparents are back tomorrow. They are only gone for two nights.