Zalgo smiles when he sees the scars he left on her legs from their last encounter, but he doesn’t say anything. He twists one of his hands around among her tendrils, grabbing onto a number of them, and puts another hand between her legs. From there he pulls her towards him.
L̝̤̲̻̩̈́͑̊̋͗ͪ́̔i̸̠̮͈̘ͫ͋͐͂ͮ̓͞ͅs̵̛̖̻͇̪̩͐̎̌̆̅ͭ͛̃̂ţ̮̥͙̠̣͍̫̃ͥ̇͛̂ͦ̓ͅͅęͣ̂̈́̿̓̀͏̻͖͉̮̞̳n̨̜̭̪͔͚͑̉̅̒ͩͅ ̤̰̪̫̞̝̔͜͞͠b̴̵̰͓̥̳̮͌ͧ̅̉̚͡a̡̫̭̫̭̝̯̽̒ͦ͐͘ͅb͖̱̳͎̦̩ͪ̃̉͂̑̀̑y̢ͤ̅ͥ̑҉̱͔̜̪̹ ̡̰͈̬̮̩̱̃ͭͬ͌̈̚͟g̝̤̲̖̮̍ͤ̿ͩͨ͆̕i̵̢̼̞̓̕r̢̝͎̝ͨ̄́l̶̢͖͚̜̞̼̊͆̄̉͂͗,ͧ̓ͩ̓͑͌҉͉͙̖̞͚ ̝͓͎̜̦̻̌ͬ͌̆͢͟͡I̛̘͎̦̬ͨ̓́ͣ́ͧͪ͛’̨͔͉̮̼̻̹̠̋́̎ͅm̞̦̰̟̻̒̈̂ͦͯͫͭ̉̂͘ ͕̜̱͍͇̯͓͐́̎̀c̨̻̆̃͗̒ͮ̉̓̀ŏͧ͋̊͏̸̴̤͓̳͈̣̦̝͈m̌̑ͯ̉̚͏̼͔̹̖͙͖̻̦i̵͇̫̲̱ͮ̄͋̏̈͌ͅņ̣̻̜̦̮͖̟͖̙̑ͦ̋ͮ̃̉̎̓̄͢g̮̬̬̣̙̝̪ͤ͋̌ͯ͆̚ ̸̺̖̭͋̂ͥ̌ͩ͛̋̃̕ͅw̴͕̗̙̯̰̜ͦ͘h̶̠͎͈͕͈̺ͬ͛̍ͧ̏ͩ̑ͥë̜ͣ̌ͨ̄̑̕t͉͙̗͈̳̜̼͈ͦ̑ͧͬ̿ͧͫ͘h̷̞̤͕̤͙̦̣̝̏̒͋̀̽̚͡͝ͅe̸̲̖̤̽̄ͤͪ́r̬͕̈́̔͌̍ ̣̘̳͎͖͇͉̖͕ͯͬ̎ͪẙ͚̖̗͙̞͐͂́͘̕o̶̯̼̔̾ͪ̐͜ủ̬͚͇̟͉͇̱͇͆͛͟ ̬̬̯ͣͯ͛ͩ͝w̪̗̞̹̤̞̤̣͛̾ͦ̄̇͜a̞̗̞̫͂͝ņ̫̯̠̜̿͑̆͊ͯͤ͛͛ͭt̢̤͎̤̞͐ͧ̎̃ ̸̸͈̱͗ͪ̒̿ͬ̊ͮ͌m̻̟̦̦̻̩̽ͫ̀͝͝e̢̱͎̞͈ͭ͒͐̾̍̀ ̊̃̽͌ͭ̈͋͌ͬ҉͏̠̙͖t̲͑ͥ͟͢ő̴͉͖͕̙̹͖̞̜͓̂̈́̏̿̉͌͊͢ ͈̠̦̽̀̀ͧ͘̕o̤͙̣̪̖͖̦̿̐̒͐̔͂̎͢ȑ̩̰̥̗͓̖̘͖̙̿̑̒̓ͣ̈̾ͯ ̖̥̪̙̗̒ͯͤ̅̿̈́ͅn̢͆̆̌ͦ͆ͩ͞҉̬̭͍̜ǫ̘̳̐́̉̈́ͬ̑ͤͮtͬ̄̏ͮͥ҉̞̹͕̭̫̫̥̻̜.̺̝̈́ͥͪ̃͗̑̉̐́
He grabbed her, until recently, free arm at the elbow and twisted it backwards.
[[Oh and you can go ahead and say who I am now.]]
Slenda curses loudly and begins shaking. Fuck..Fuck, that hurt. She digs her heels hard into the ground and growls at Zalgo one last time.
“Stay away from me, Zalgo.”
With that, a rift opened below her and she fell in. It closed behind her seconds later, cutting off some of her own tendrils, and she was falling through void. If he hadn’t pulled his hands away in time, that was his problem. She felt her back throbbing where the tendrils had been lost. With a thud, she landed in the wee artist’s room. Her ‘home’. She let out a sharp whimper and held her shoulder. It was dislocated, or…shattered, or broken or something…
She couldn’t believe herself.
She had run away.
Like a fucking…coward..
