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Estimated reading time — 4 minutes

The sound of footsteps was audible in the merchant’s square. People walked around buying food, supplies, and the occasional odd item. I was setting up my wares for the day-medicines for the sick and potions to cure pain. I loved helping the people of Florence. Everyone needs healing. No one should be sick. I sold little charms, trinkets for luck, fertility, good health, and many other human needs. I also sold little toys for children, for I felt sorry for them. Especially the poor, the orphans, and the homeless, who wandered the streets cold, hungry, and sad. I kept prices low, so that anyone could buy what they need. If the person could not pay, I would give them the item they needed, telling them to pay when they could. I sympathized with them. I knew how it felt to be in need, and it wasn’t fun.

My business practices, though, seem to anger the doctores and other merchants. “I was pulling customers away!” they would say. All I would tell them was “I am doing what I think is right, not what makes the most money. Please leave me to my work.” I knew it was dangerous to make enemies, but that was the way I thought.

Though if they had known how I made my potions from the beginning, I would have met my demise before I could become a threat.
You see, I practiced the art of magic, something that was forbidden. I never did anything to hurt people. I was always careful. No one needed to know my secrets, and I intended to take my secrets to the grave.

But, even the most careful person can make a mistake…

One night, when I was making a new potion for a child who was coughing up a red liquid, I saw a strange glow from the corner of my eye. I looked up to find one of my books glowing on my work space. The glowing book mystified me. None of my books had done something like this. I opened the book, which had opened to a particular page. It was a summoning spell. Something came over me that night, and I began the spell. I don’t remember what I did, though even if I could, I would not tell you. I remember a flash of light, and a strange, almost menacing laughter, then darkness.

I woke up the next morning on the ground, my head pounding. When I stood and saw what I did, I panicked. A pentacle was drawn on the ground. It looked like it was drawn in blood. In the middle was a circle with an X in the center, this was burned into the ground. I quickly covered the symbols with a rug that I had rolled up in a corner. The rug was big enough to cover the pentacle, and the strange symbol. Feeling that I was successful, I packed up my wares and went to the merchant’s square. Everything was going to be alright.

All day that day I felt uneasy. I could hear the strange laughter in the background of the market. I saw a shadow just out of the edge of my vision multiple times. I became worried. Did I awaken a spirit that night? I did not know. I tried to act natural, but I think that people began to suspect. I know people began to suspect. They were not stupid. They knew.

Near the end of the day a group of children came to my stand, asking for medicine to help their mother. I was out of medicine for the day, so I told them to stop by my home, that I would have the medicine there. “What could go wrong?” I thought, “I covered up the symbols, no one would know.”
At that point, the laughter started again, this time much louder. I waved it off, thinking nothing of it this time. Nothing will happen. Nothing at all.
That night the children arrived. I told them to wait in my living quarters, and went to get the potion. I had found the potion when I heard the screams. Dropping the potion, I rushed out to see what was wrong.

What I saw made me freeze with fear.


The room had been covered with bloody pentacles, in the center that same circle. The children looked at me, horror on their faces, for they knew what that meant. Before I could do anything, they started screaming again. I tried to hush them, but no matter what I did, they continued to scream. Guards had come soon after.


I do not remember what had happened after that. I do remember days upon days of being locked away in a dungeon, the strange laughter echoing off the brick walls, driving me insane. For what had seemed like years I sat in a corner, listening to the laugh, thinking about those children. Why did they not stop? Why did they not listen? THEY were why I was there, sitting in a dungeon. It was their entire fault!

By the time the guards came, all that was left of me was skin and bone. All I could do was rock back and forth, muttering about children and laughter. One of the guards must have hit me in the head, because the next thing I know, I am strapped to something, a crowd of people standing in front of me, shouting curses and profanities. I was in shock. How could they? When I had helped so many of them?!

The pain started then. It felt like my body was being torn in two. I started to scream, the pain was unbearable. I cursed them back, thoughts back-stabbing, wretched creatures! They would not help me! They hated me! I did nothing to them, and they hated me!

I felt pricks of pain go through my eyelids, then my mouth. I could no longer see, no longer scream. I felt liquid hit me. It burned. I hated them! HATED THEM! All of them! Especially the children. Oh, how they should suffer! If not for them, I would not have been caught! It was their entire fault!
I heard something in my mind. The laughter. Darkness suddenly filled the back of my mind. Behind my closed eyes, I saw tentacles of pure darkness. They wrapped themselves around my mind. The laughter became a voice. A horrible voice.


“Do you hate them so much?”
“Yes.” I said.
“You wish to make them suffer?”
“Then our deal is done.”
The pain subsided. My vision cleared. It was dark, but I could see. I tried to blink, but could not. I felt something, but not happiness, sadness, or even surprise.

I felt anger.

They were still there. Laughing, playing. They will suffer. All of them. But the children will suffer more.
Oh, how they will.
They will…

Credit To – Nighthawk

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63 thoughts on “Origin”

  1. Ending sucked. Other than that, fine. Tired of slenderman, as well. PLEASE, stop writing about him people. It’s done and over with.

  2. Stephan D. Harris:
    Yeah,I guess what they did even if he was practicing magic was wrong too. But I don’t think he would have sealed that deal with the devil or what ever the voice was (a deamon? or maybe Slendy’s conciusness?) if he never was doing magic in the first place or DIDN’T TOUCH THE GLOWING BOOK!

  3. WOW!! This was possibly the Best pasta I’ve seen in a long time!Please keep up the great work!All I think should have been changed was a tiny bit more detail about the book. Btw, I keep reading this over and over XD


  4. Slenderman is so mysterious. I believe he originated in what is now Germany, but there isn’t really a good origin story. I think you may have changed that, Congratulations.

    I think it’s a more plausible origin that Slenderman isn’t some mysterious creature that rose from the depths of hell just to kidnap children, but is a man, who practiced magic, ended up summoning a demon, and it screwed him over in the end. He ended up blaming children, so is now hell-bent on taking revenge in the form of Slenderman.

  5. I can’t believe it! If you didn’t wanna summon that mutha fuckin’ slenderman, then why do you use potions?! It’s not good! That’s against the first commandment! and sorry for my bad language.

    1. Magick is not bad just depending on how you use it I am a first degree wiccan and ive been studying for 2 years now and i can say you cannot summon a evil spirit through potions but you can summon a evil spirit through black magick because black magick is used for negative intent like to hurt somebody like i would told this witch named Kat used black magick to get a apparentment she liked and she drove the old man insane on the inside and after a few days later she got chocked to death by the spirit of the wife that was living with the husband there. It all depends on what you use in this case in the story slenderman was using white magick which heals people

  6. Great way of incorporating a swift short ending to a nice long piece but try to feel a little bit more with the emotions trust me it helps with the whole outlook.

    1. The laugh is the demon that burst from the dimensional door the merchant/magician unconsciously opened. He is the ultimate reason for the events that follow his summoning

  7. slender man doesnt hate children…. :( he is simply fascinated by them.

    wouldnt you be fascinated by something that is so pure, so true, can grow up to be something so twisted and sick minded?

    1. i have a fiend who say he seen him many times, however he might be lying or hallucinating as he hasn’t slept in 2 weeks do to smile dog.

  8. Called it as a slenderpasta the moment the Operator Symbol turned up, but otherwise, really good pasta. Quite possibly one of the only few good slenderpastas I’ve ever read.

  9. I was completely unaware that this was about Slenderman until I read he tag. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad but I think maybe it could have been a little more developed or clear so that the reader would definitely know if was a Slenderman story even without the tag.

  10. The concept was good but the story was very underdeveloped. I understand that the narrator lived his life to help the people and they turn on him like nothing, but it didn’t feel significant because of the little interaction between them (that the reader saw). Then the talk of magic felt sudden, and a random book we know nothing about glowing was just weird.

    And then to hop on the Slenderman bandwagon killed this story, because I don’t even see how this could be related to Slenderman.

  11. I’m so glad I didn’t read the tags before the pasta, and I also forgot about the title until I was done reading. :D This is great, someone is advancing the story at last.


    1. I dunno. I mean… This doesn’t really strike me as Slender’s backstory.
      I have done research on this; isn’t he vaguely based on a German monster “Der Großmann”, or something of that sort? Or was he a pedophile who lived in the 15th century, and was convicted and had his limbs torn off as punishment….?
      I dunno. My folklore gets mixed up.
      Nice story, regardless!

      1. I thought this felt more like a bad guy in Full Metal Alchemist.
        He started of helping, then drew a blood pentagram, then was spurred by the people he had helped… now he wants to kill everyone who made him angry.
        Full. Metal. Alchemist.

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