Madame Med: The Scientist, The Experimenter, The Girl.

(Music! What a lovely idea. In honor of our subject today: Link)

Who better to start these strange biographies, than the lovely quick wit, Miss Med.

Making her internet debut in early February of this year, Miss Med has gained quite a following, and who can honestly be surprised? This young and feisty newcomer to the Slenderverse appeared with fresh new ideas and a faint trail of hope in her wake. She won us over with her sunny and "can-do" demeanor, as well as some top notch ideas for getting under a certain someone's slendery skin. Some called her a genius for her plans to study the Slenderman, others called her a suicidal daredevil for attempting them. But who truly is the woman behind the blog? I took some time out of my schedule to find out.

Miss Med, who refrained from sharing her real name in this interview, was an average chid growing up in New Zealand in the tiny town of Manapouri. She was rather smart from the beginning, always conducting her own experiments, and creating mischief with her cousin whom she has mentioned in her own blog. She remembers having encountered the Slender Man around the age of 8, but says he did not impact her life until later when she came across him again almost 8 years later, a month before he debut on the blogosphere. However, did Med drop into a dark and depressing pit of self-pity upon encountering this monstrous entity. Don't be ridiculous! Not this young lady. Med, like a true scientist, was ready to have a look see at just what this Slenderman was all about. Experimenting with operator signs, azoth, proxies, and even managing to build a contraption to detain the Slenderman have all been some of her various achievements, as well as being awarded a "sage" title, albeit mockingly, by a Proxy named Fracture. Truly this young lady has been working her way up in the ranks, though that's not to say though that the road has all been sunshine and lollipops.

Med is notorious for being a bit of a daredevil, taking risks that some would argue are "unnecessary." Some of these risks have lead to some rather harsh turns, one in particular that gave a whole knew meaning to the old idiom "an eye for an eye."

The biggest question on everyone's mind, however, seems to be a question of what this young lady has been hiding. Several times now Med has succumbed to an angry state a few proxies have deemed "feral." In the midst of physical battles she has been known to go rather wild, fighting back in an almost animalistic sort of way. It's been a concern for many of her followers, who have worries this state may lead to darker turns. Med however, chooses not to fret, claiming her angry fits have been a part of her personality since childhood. "I'm kind of of the opinion that anyone who puts me in enough pain to get into that state deserves what they get," says Med when asked about it. "I can assure you that I'm not [a proxy]. Am I likely to go on a murdering spree?...No, no I'm not."

Whatever you may make of her, a plucky scientist, or a time bomb, Med has truly stirred up the slender-world, reviving the age of fighters while adding her own positive spin on it, sometimes giving us the strange sensation that fighting the Slenderman could be, of all things, fun?

She's been a hopeful light in this dark hole, and this reporter can only say he cannot wait to hear more of her adventures.

To read about Miss Med's current endeavors just press this handy link.

This is Johnny Marconi signing off.

Stay strong! And stay safe!

Newsflash: Odd Occurrences Last Night

Late last night we had a strange occurrence. I should probably explain to you a little more the scenario me and my compadres have been in over the last month or so.

The loop we are caught in, is a strange labyrinth. Going on for miles, with no end in sight. It passes through many environments, an old manner, a dungeon, and a garden maze are just a few of the ones I've seen. Late last night however we were wandering through a dark part with stone walls, when we came upon a group of hooded figures proceeding down the hall in a straight formation.

After they had passed, Miss Oliver had the ingenious decision to follow behind them, in the even they happened to be approaching an exit. We trailed them for hours, but they never did turn around. We lost them after a while. Their appearance has made Fetzer even more edgy than usual. He seems afraid that we shall all be attacked. I do not worry about such things though. We haven't been attacked yet, although I should probably go find some wood to knock on after having typed them.

This is Johnny Marconi, signing off. Good night inhabitants of the Slenderverse, and stay strong!

Mr. Tony Fetzer: The Man Behind The Man

So as most of you correctly assumed, acquiring an interview with Mr. Tony Fetzer prover to be increasingly difficult.

However you didn't think I'd leave you hanging did you? Of course I wouldn't!

Using my reporter wits, I managed to persuade this real grump of a man, to relent and step off his stone wall of cold stubbornness.

JM: I'll let you use my computer time for three days.

TF: Deal. You have sixty goddamn seconds.

JM: How did you get down here Tony?

TF: I bumped my head on a tree and fell down a rabbit hole.

JM: Really?

TF: No not really you dumbass!

JM: Goodness, no need for language sir. Now let me see...

TF: Thirty seconds.

JM: Oh come now, be reasonable Tony!

TF: Fifteen seconds.

JM: Care to talk about your experiences at all down here.

TF:  No. I don't. Time's up.

JM: That was a low move Fetzer! Why should I give you my computer time for a cruddy interview like that?

TF: That is not my problem.

JM: Don't you want anyone to know what happened to you?

TF: No, you know why? Because I'm not dying down here in this hell hole you damn tragedian. Besides, even if I did want a story recorded I wouldn't want it to be your screwy version.

JM: Please Tony. Just one more question.

TF: No.

JM: Please!

TF: Fine. One question.

JM: And you have to answer upfront.

TF: Fine.

JM: Care to explain the tidying?

TF: I'm not answering that question.

JM: But you said

TF: No. Ask something else, or no question at all.

JM: Alright...How do you feel about Ms. McMasters?

TF: ...This interview is over.

JM: Hey! Hey! Tony give me back the recorder!

As you can see he certainly is an obstinate individual. I couldn't get one straight question out of the guy. He certainly is an odd fellow. Spends most of his time moping about, dusting the old floorboards of this maze. Quite an odd ol' boy indeed. Completely oblivious to reality if you ask me.

Anywho, that concludes the interview of my companions down here, hopefully they'll open up a bit more as time goes on. After all we have just met.

Now however, the time has come to expand my horizons! To record not just the story of my friends, but also all of you.

Wish me luck, and keep strong!

Theo Russle: The Smashed Window of Innocence

Since Fetzer continues his campaign as a world class stubborn mule, today I will be talking about the young Ms. Theo Russle. A poor soul indeed. Barely a night goes by she doesn't rouse us with hysterics. Ms. Russle is only about seventeen years of age, and the poor girl has a resolve of toothpicks. Sad teary blue eyes and hiding behind a sheet of blonde hair, closed in on herself in various corners at times, one can only wonder what she things about.

JM: So Theo, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?

TR: ...

JM: Come on now, don't be shy.

TR: ...

JM: We'll start simple. Why don't you tell me where you're from.

TR: [muffled mumbling.]

JM: What was that?

TR: ...Michigan...

JM: Really now? From the great lake state? It gets pretty cold up there doesn't it?

TR: ...

JM: Tell me, how did you come to be trapped down here?

TR: ...I...I was just...I don't know what happened...

JM: What do you mean, dearie?

TR: She was sick.

JM: Who was sick?

TR: ...

JM: Oh come now, don't cry. Everything is fine, just keep going.

TR: My mom...my mom was sick...and I was at the hospital with her...and I hate hospitals. I've always hated hospitals.

JM: Go on.

TR: Look...I don't, I can't talk about this. Not to you, not to anyone.

JM: That's alright, that's alright. I completely understand. I'm not here to push you. Would you prefer to talk about something else?

TR: ...Yeah...sure...

JM: How long have you been here?

TR: ...three months...three months since...yeah.

JM: Since the incident at the hospital.

TR: ...

JM: Hey now, every thing's fine. There's no need to cry.

TR: I'm sorry, I'm not trying to cry...I just...

JM: Shh...hey quiet down now.

TR: Oh God...Oh God...

JM: Hey...hey you're alright.

OM: Leave her alone Johnny!

It was at this point poor Theo dissolved into hysterics. I know it may seem as though I provoked her but you must understand this is a usual occurrence for the poor girl. Oliver once offered her a blanket in case she was cold, and the girl just began screaming, something that can be difficult when everyone is kept together in a confined space most of the time. She's touchy, but hopefully she'll come around soon.

Next time I will broadcast the great story of Tony Fetzer! Because dammit he's the last and he won't get away.

Wish me luck and keep strong!

Tommy Swan: A Self-Made Mad Man

As I told you all yesterday, today's post was supposed to be about Mr. Tony Fetzer. Unfortunately there's been a little delay in that department. Attempts to interview him turned out a little less than satisfactory but never fear! I'm sure the ol' grouch will come around sooner or later.

In the mean time let's take a look at my dearest and most tragic friend, Mr. Tommy Swan.

A disheveled and odd gentleman at the least. A desperate psychotic at the worst. Mr. Swan appears to be about twenty to thirty years of age. His hair is a proverbial rat's nest and his once prim suit appears to have been torn to bits. The man spends most of his time wandering about in circles muttering gibberish only his twisted and tangled mind can understand. I sat down with Tommy in order to have a small conversation.

JM: Alright Tommy! We'll take it nice and slow. What can you tell us about yourself?

TS: I was born of light, and made the shadows.

JM: That was beautiful Tommy, but vague as well. Please be specific.

TS: There can't be shadows without light, I don't know much about much but the light makes the shadows. This place is full of shadows, and I must be the light.

A tragic case indeed. His eyes glance from wall to wall, trapped in the eternal maze of his own insanity as well as the physical maze as well.

JM: Did you have a family.

TS: My mother was nothingness, birthed from chaos, and I am light.

JM: You poor sad fellow.

TS: From nothing came chaos, from chaos came the light, from the light came the shadows, from the shadows came fear, from the fear came courage, and from the courage came knowledge, and from knowledge came evil.

JM: What you would say if you simply understood.

His eyes glance towards my tape recorder and he makes a grab for it.

JM: No I'm afraid this is mine.

TS: The mechanism! The clockwork! The hearth in the storm!

JM: This is about perserving a story my dear fellow, it isn't for your hearth.

TS: Those who dance with their tongues deserve to have them cut off.

JM: Oh if only you made any sense.

TF: I thought I told you to cut it out you little piece of shit!

Unfortunately at that point my interview was cut short by Mr. Fetzer, a world class opposer of the literary arts. I suppose you can see the gist of it though, the madness of a poor Mr. Swan.

No one can say how he came to be this way, but through any unfortunate number of events, it's a wonder is he'll ever return to coherency.

Stay tuned for the next interview.

Until then, keep strong!

Ms. Oliver McMasters: The Kindred Leader

My first order of business was obvious. To publish my own story as well as the stories of all my companions. I spoke with them, interviewed them, consoled them on their losses as well as congratulated them on their scarce triumphs in the face of certain death, and discovered the string of events that lead all of them to be trapped in this dark place.

As interesting and noteworthy as a great reporter like myself can be, it is important to remember that all people have stories, so firstly we shall examine the story of Ms. Oliver McMasters.

McMasters is a woman who appears to be in her early twenties, but as she informed me is actually in her late twenties. A quick wit with big brown eyes, and grey streaks in her naturally black hair, no doubt from the stress this young woman has endured. Among all of our crew she has been trapped in this loop for the longest amount of time, a jaw-dropping five years if you can imagine, perhaps even longer. Still perseverance appears to be the lady's proverbial bread and butter, a kindred and optimistic spirit through and through, the unspoken leader of this company. How could such a kind and gentle come to reside in such a place as this?

OM: Uh...Johnny do we have to do this right now? I'm in the middle of something here.

JM: Ms. McMasters, am I to understand that you don't want to be remembered throughout the ages? That you want to go on with your toils unremembered?

OM: Where'd you find that tape recorder? Tom could've used the batteries to-

JM: This is more important than Tommy and his deranged tinkering! This is about immortality! The eternal preservation in the hearts and minds of people everywhere, even after our hearts have stopped beating.

OM: Geez, you're so melodramatic. Alright ask away.

JM: Thank you miss, now do tell the tape recorder a little more about yourself.

OM: Uh...Hello, I'm Oliver. I'm a Libra?

JM: Ms. McMasters, please describe the events that lead to you being trapped in this dark hell hole of infinite insanity!

OM: Well...

It's at this point Ms. McMasters takes on a thoughtful contemplative look, stopping her actions of rummaging through the odds and ends of an abandoned junk drawer and quietly wanders through the ghosts of her past, hardening herself for the pain the memories undoubtedly bring her.

OM: I suppose it all started a few years ago, my little brother, Bobby went missing, and I was looking for him and somehow wound up here.

JM: Is that all?

OM: Yeah, that's the gist of it.

JM: Only the gist? Not the full epic?

OM: Look Johnny, it's not really something I like to talk about. Some stuff should be more private y'know?

JM: And what in particular would you like to keep private?

OM: It's private.

JM: But what specifically?

OM: Johnny, is this really the best use of your time?

JM: Of course it is, learning about you is always a valuable use of my time.

OM: Oh, uh...thanks.

JM: So what about romance huh? Any special guys in your life.

OM: What?

JM: You and Tony looked like you were getting pretty cozy last night after supper.

OM: Okay, now that is really none of your business.

JM: It's a simple question Oliver, the masses want to know!

OM: Where are you posting this again?

JM: Oh...uh...On a blog.

OM: So that's what you've been up to during your computer time.

JM: Indeed I have! And what a noble use of the computer it was.

OM: Look, Johnny, this is okay when you're with me, because

JM: Because we have such an intimate friendship?

OM: Uh...yeah, sure, something like that, but I think it may be best if you not interview the others.

JM: Why ever not?

OM: Well you know Theo's in kind of a delicate place right now, she doesn't need you pestering her with questions, and it's only going to piss Tony off if you approach him with this.

JM: What about Tommy?

OM: You hate Tom, you said so yourself.

JM: I said no such thing! Why he and me are the closest of bosom companions!

OM: Uh huh, look, just, can listen to me on this one? Please.

JM: Alright Madame, I can't say I agree with you on this, but I will certainly abide by your words. You are after all the leader.

OM: I am? Wait is that what you all think of me?

JM: Why of course, you have a commanding and motherly sort of quality about you.

OM: That's ridiculous, I'm not in charge, nobody has to listen to me or anything.

JM: So then I can interview whomever I please!

OM: What? No! No that's not what I meant.

JM: We conclude this interview now! Sleep tight America and all your ships at sea!

OM: Johnny!

It hurts me to have to twist the arm and the rules of such a fine and upstanding lady, but I am a writer of integrity, and these stories must be told.

Stay tuned ladies and gentlemen, for the upcoming story of Mr. Tony Fetzer a man clouded in mystery and a fiery and irrational rage.

Until next time this is Johnny Marconi reporting from inside of the loop.

Keep strong!

A Man Made Prisoner to the Unknown and The Glaring Threat of Uncertainty

Welcome ladies and gentlemen! It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I know most of you folk reading this out there have probably fallen on some rough times. Yeah, I know how it goes, one moment your living your life, the next moment some monstrosity comes out of the woodwork and all of a sudden you're on your own! An outcast from all things good and secure! Living life in day to day fear, and one of the things you good folks have to worry about is the uncertainty.

Well say no more my dear friends for uncertainty is no longer your concern, because Johnny Marconi is on the job. And just who is Johnny Marconi may you ask? Why he is the fellow who is going to solve a vast majority of your problems.

A tall good looking young devil with an eye and an ear for a juicy story, who up until a few weeks ago I was simply a humble reporter living in Brooklyn, trying to make a name for myself in the mainstream with the big fish. But what separated this charismatic young gentleman from any other upstart reporter, I'll tell you what, this reporter had an eye for the unusual.

An investigator of the paranormal he was, always tailing the truth, always an inch away from discovering a real paranormal phenomenon that would turn the world topsy and cement him as the most important reporter in history. Some called him crazy, others called him a genius, but no opinions mattered to Ol' Johnny Marconi.

One day he found it! The scoop to end all scoops. A mysterious murder committed at the dead of night in the middle of a dark forest, a young man no older than thirteen, gutted in the most heinous of ways. And what was truly interesting was the way the murder was covered up.

No article in the newspaper, no police statement, it was almost as if it had never happened. If it weren't for the watchful eye of our plucky reporter, I'm sure it would have never achieved any notoriety at all. He quickly began his own inspection and stumbled a bigger secret than he could imagine.

The monstrous entity known as the Slenderman! As well as his fellow fears. Killers in the most unethical and paranormal of senses! Marconi was going to expose them, but before he had the chance he was imprisoned in a lonely labyrinth of halls and rooms, never-ending with no foreseeable exit. A sudden and unexpected figure of tragedy, who had the power to end all of the suffering completely but was conquered by trickery most foul.

Marconi wandered alone for days, nothing but his typewriter to keep him company, when he happened upon four other prisoners. Ms. Oliver McMasters, a strong willed and yet still soft and stunning young woman, Mr. Tony Fetzer, an ill-tempered, gloomy and angst-ridden individual, haunted by the ghosts of his past, Thomas Swan, a madman with no respect for personal space, and little Theo Russel, a young girl who had only begun to live life.

Together the little crew searches for an escape from the inescapable labyrinth known as the loop, searching desperately for a return to the world that they may never reach. Along the way, through the use of Swan's computer, Marconi began to educate himself on the stories of all the other victims like him, and vowed to do something to ease the suffering of those stalked by the Fears.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Johnny Marconi is me, and this is my story that I shall publish in an attempt to ensure my struggles never be forgotten nor the struggles of any other like him! This blog shall be a vocal point for the masses, a place to collect the news and learn of the trials and tribulations of those like you.

We shall never be forgotten!

So please my friends, stay tuned, for this will be a story you will not want to miss.