Let me start by making one thing painfully clear to you. I do not like my job. For all intents and purposes my job is kind of a drag. I don't like some of the things I have to do in order to research this thing. Shocker I know, seeing as how a lot of you sickos get a real kick out of chopping people into tiny bits. But sometimes there are bad situations that only have bad solutions, and if somebody doesn't step up and get their hands dirty than the snowball keeps rolling and bad just goes to worse.
Now that that's said, let me explain to you who I am.
I am not a runner. Running is for self-righteous assholes who love to buy into that see no evil, hear no evil bullshit. You may think that's cold, but take it from me honey, running won't keep you alive. It's certainly not going to keep anyone else alive, in fact in my experience runners are the asshats who leave the most colateral damage. Runners are the ones who become the damn proxies, they're the ones who trail-blaze through cities and towns and forests and police stations and leave a wake of dead in their paths. Not that I'm much better, but hey at least I contribute to the damn cause. If you don't plan on lifting a finger to kill Mr. Tentacles, do the world a favor and just curl up and die. You won't get any sympathy from me. If that hurts your feelings, kindly go cry about it to someone who gives a shit.
I am the bitch who's going to kill Slenderman.
Predictably you are still nursing your injured ass, and are now pursing your lips and whining, "Oh sure! That's what they all say in the beginning."
Well first off, please go die in a ditch. Of course that's what they all say in the beginning, but I intend to follow through.
I've been at this for 15 years. Hunting proxies, burning down forests, collecting research and compiling a database. This is my life. From day one this is what I was destined to do, and by God I'm gonna fucking do it. I'm not giving up because it's hard, I'm not going to turn tail and run because I'm afraid to die, and I'm not going to sit here and whine about my life and how unfair it's been to me. Life is a bitch and you do what you have to do to get by, but screw anyone who thinks the Slenderman can't get his ass kicked into next week. I'm here to tell you that he most definitely can. He's not God, and he's not the devil. He was born of something and he'll die of something.
I've probably gone and pissed on a bunch of people with that intro, but whatever I'm not here because I wanted to be Miss America.
I've got business to attend to. If you feel like learning something new about hunting tentacle monsters with a taste for Ralph Lauren, by all means stick around. If you bratty little interwebbers can pull your heads out of your prose stuffed asses, you might get lucky.