HeLLeNiCReVeNgE: Ο SLENDER MAN είναι TULPA που οδήγησε ΔΩΔΕΚΑΧΡΟΝΕΣ στο ΕΓΚΛΗΜΑ

ΗΠΑ, πολιτεία Wisconsin, Milwaukee suburb of Waukesha, δύο δωδεκάχρονες αμερικανίδες μαχαίρωσαν σχεδόν μέχρι θανάτου μια συμμαθήτριά τους, για να αποδείξουν ότι ο φανταστικός χαρακτήρας Slenderman είναι πραγματικός.
όπως δήλωσαν «μερικοί δεν πιστεύουν ότι ο Slenderman είναι αληθινός, θέλαμε να δείξουμε ότι οι σκεπτικιστές έχουν άδικο»
οι δωδεκάχρονες, για μήνες σχεδίαζαν πώς να σκοτώσουν τη συμμαθήτριά τους.

Την προσκάλεσαν στο σπίτι τους και μετά τη διανυκτέρευσή της εκεί, την παρέσυραν στο δάσος, τη μαχαίρωσαν 19 φορές και την άφησαν να πεθάνει από αιμορραγία. Η μικρή επέζησε της επίθεσης όταν αιμόφυρτη σύρθηκε έξω από το δάσος, την είδε ένας διερχόμενος ποδηλάτης και κάλεσε την αστυνομία.

Η κατάστασή της σταθεροποιήθηκε, αλλά γλίτωσε για ένα χιλιοστό από το θάνατο αφού μια μαχαιριά έκοψε μια σημαντική αρτηρία.

Οι δωδεκάχρονες Morgan Geyser και η Anissa Weier, είπαν ότι διέπραξαν το έγκλημα γιατί ο Slenderman τους ζήτησε να σκοτώσουν κάποιον, πριν να γίνουν «αντιπρόσωποί του»
(a character called Slenderman required them to kill someone before they could become his “proxy.’’)

Οι δωδεκάχρονες ήθελαν να αποδείξουν ότι ο φανταστικός χαρακτήρας Slenderman είναι πραγματικός.

η Geyser και η Weier θα δικαστούν ως ενήλικες, για πρώτου βαθμού απόπειρα ανθρωποκτονίας, αντιμετωπίζουν 65 χρόνια φυλάκισης και κρατούνται με 500.000 δολάρια εγγύηση η κάθε μία.
σύμφωνα με το CNN, η Geyser και η Weier αρχικά προγραμμάτισαν να κλείσουν το στόμα της φίλης τους με κολλητική ταινία ενώ κοιμόταν και στη συνέχεια να τη μαχαιρώσουν στο λαιμό αλλά μετά σκέφτηκαν ότι το μπάνιο θα ήταν μια καλύτερη σκηνή για το έγκλημα, επειδή θα ήταν εύκολο να καθαρίσουν το χώρο μετά τη δολοφονία.
Ωστόσο αργότερα επέλεξαν να της επιτεθούν με το μαχαίρι σε ένα κοντινό πάρκο, ενώ θα έπαιζαν κρυφτό.
Η μία από τις δωδεκάχρονες –δεν διευκρινίστηκε ποια από τις δύο- ακινητοποίησε το θύμα και η άλλη το μαχαίρωσε 19 φορές.
έπειτα ζήτησαν από το αιμόφυρτο θύμα τους να περιμένει ήσυχα, ακίνητο και έφυγαν ελπίζοντας

ότι θα πεθάνει από αιμορραγία. Συνελήφθησαν λίγο μετά από τη διάσωση του θύματός τους, καθώς διέφευγαν περπατώντας στην εθνική οδό με ένα σακίδιο γεμάτο με σνακ και ένα μαχαίρι πέντε ιντσών. Προγραμμάτιζαν να εγκατασταθούν στην έπαυλη του Slenderman στο δάσος έξω από την πόλη (in the Nicolet National Forest in northern Wisconsin).
οι δωδεκάχρονες πίστευαν ότι ο φανταστικός χαρακτήρας ( meme) του διαδικτύου Slenderman ήταν πραγματικός και διάβαζαν online τις ιστορίες του στην ιστοσελίδα creepypasta.com, (which presents itself as a Wikipedia-style collection of paranormal and horror ‘microfiction’, (με ιστορίες τρόμου και θρύλους) όπου οι χρήστες μπορούν να υποβάλουν τις δικές τους ιστορίες τρόμου.

Μετά την απόπειρα δολοφονίας του 12χρονου κοριτσιού, πολλοί χρήστες της CreepyPasta.wikia.com, ζητούν να κλείσει η ιστοσελίδα.

ο μύθος του Slender Man, αποτελεί δημιούργημα ενός διαγωνισμού.
ο Slender Man γεννήθηκε από μια φωτογραφία. Το 2009 ο ιστότοπος Something Awful διοργάνωσε διαγωνισμό που καλούσε τους συμμετέχοντες να δημιουργήσουν μια δικιά τους τρομαχτική φωτογραφία. Συγκεκριμένα, οι διαγωνιζόμενοι έπρεπε να διαλέξουν κάποιες πραγματικές φωτογραφίες και με τις δικές τους παρεμβάσεις να δημιουργήσουν κάτι τρομαχτικό.
Ο γνωστός με το ψευδώνυμο “Victor Surge” αναδείχθηκε νικητής του διαγωνισμού με δύο φωτογραφίες.

Οι φωτογραφίες του απεικόνιζαν παιδιά που έπαιζαν στην παιδική χαρά και αμυδρά στο παρασκήνιο φαινόταν να παρακολουθεί τα παιδιά μια απρόσωπη οντότητα με μαύρο κουστούμι, ένας άνδρας με σμόκιν, πολύ ψηλός με 2,5 έως 3,00 μέτρα ύψος, λεπτός, με μακριά χέρια σαν πλοκάμια ωχρός με φαλακρό κεφάλι.
στη φωτογραφία υπάρχει η λεζάντα
«Δεν θέλαμε να πάει, δεν θέλαμε να τα σκοτώσει, αλλά η επίμονη σιωπή του και τα απλωμένα χέρια του, μας γέμιζαν φρίκη και παρηγοριά ταυτόχρονα ..."
πέντε μέρες μετά τη δημοσίευση των φωτογραφιών από τον “Victor Surge” στο website Something Awful, πολλοί χρήστες άρχισαν να αφηγούνται ιστορίες θανάτου και εξαφανίσεις προσώπων που συνδέονται με τις φωτογραφίες και να επισημαίνουν την κακοτυχία που συνοδεύει τις φωτογραφίες αυτές.
Από τότε ο Slenderman έχει εξελιχθεί μέσω των βίντεο, το YouTube, τα παιχνίδια εναλλακτικής πραγματικότητας (args), τους οπαδούς αυτής της τέχνης, και την απευθείας σύνδεση με ιστορίες τρόμου και ακόμα με παρωδίες που είναι λιγότερο τρομακτικές (όπως Trenderman και Splendorman).
ο Slender Man έγινε ιδιαίτερα δημοφιλής. Δημιουργήθηκαν διάφορες τρομαχτικές ιστορίες με πρωταγωνιστή τον ίδιο, ενώ κάποιοι δημιουργοί βιντεοπαιχνιδιών δημιούργησαν τέρατα παρόμοια με αυτόν (όπως Trenderman και Splendorman) ή παιχνίδια με τον ίδιο. Για παράδειγμα το βιντεοπαιχνίδι Slender που χαρακτηρίστηκε ως ένα από τα πιο τρομαχτικά παιχνίδια που έχουν δημιουργηθεί. Κυκλοφόρησε μάλιστα και ένα ντοκιμαντέρ που σχετίζεται με τον Slender Man.

ο Slender Man αρπάζει παιδιά και τα τρώει, μπορεί να κάνει τον εαυτό του αόρατο έχει ικανότητα τηλεμετακίνησης, παραμονεύει και αρπάζει με τα χέρια του που είναι σαν πλοκάμια, το θήραμά του.

Είναι αληθινός ο «SLENDER MAN»?
εσωτεριστές εκφράζουν την άποψη ότι ο Slenderman είναι μια μορφή Τούλπα (tulpa), μια αρνητική «σκεπτομορφή».
οι άυλες σκέψεις δημιουργούν μορφές, κάτι δηλαδή υλικό που έχει σχήμα, όρια, χρώματα και για κάποιους ορατότητα.
Στον ανατολίτικο μυστικισμό (σε όρους Θιβετιανού Βουδισμού) το φαινόμενο είναι γνωστό ως Τούλπα (tulpa), στη Δύση το ονομάζουμε Σκεπτομορφή.

οι σκέψεις των ανθρώπων, όταν είναι ενεργειακά φορτισμένες, μπορούν να επηρεάσουν την εξέλιξη των πραγμάτων, τόσο στην καθημερινή μας ζωή όσο και σε ανώτερα κοσμικά επίπεδα
είναι πιθανό ότι εάν αρκετοί άνθρωποι πιστεύουν σε κάτι, αυτή και μόνο η πεποίθηση θα μπορούσε να γεννήσει μια μορφή (tulpa),

Η δυνατότητα των σκοτεινών δυνάμεων βασίζεται στην ανάπτυξη τεχνικών υλοποίησης αρνητικών σκεπτομορφών
στην κατάθεση που έκαναν οι δωδεκάχρονες για το έγκλημά τους, αναφέρουν ότι
δεν ένιωθαν καμιά συγκίνηση κατά τη διάπραξη του εγκλήματος και
όπως δήλωσε το ένα κορίτσι "ο κακός μου εαυτός ήθελε να πεθάνει η συμμαθήτριά μου, ενώ ο καλός μου εαυτός ήθελε να ζήσει"

'It was weird that I didn't feel remorse,' one of the girls told detectives.

'The bad part of me wanted her to die, the good part of me wanted her to live,' the other girl said.

πηγή
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2646432/12-year-old-Wisconsin-girls-stab-friend-19-times.html

στην ιστοσελίδα http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Tulpa αναφέρεται η τεχνική υλοποίησης του ενεργειακού διπλού Το "ονείρεμα" και η "ανασκόπηση" μαζί, μπορούν να δημιουργήσουν το ενεργειακό "διπλό" - μια οντότητα η οποία δεν μπορεί να καταστραφεί και ικανή να δράσει μόνη της

συνομιλία με το υποσυνείδητό μου (I would visualize a double of myself. They called it my "tulpa").

Last year I spent six months participating in what I was told was a psychological experiment. I found an ad in my local paper looking for imaginative people

They told me that all I would have to do is stay in a room, alone, with sensors attached to my head to read my brain activity, and while I was there I would visualize a double of myself. They called it my "tulpa".

It seemed easy enough, and I agreed to do it. And the next day, I began. They brought me to a simple room and gave me a bed, then attached sensors to my head and hooked them into a little black box on the table beside me. They talked me through the process of visualizing my double again, and explained that if I got bored or restless, instead of moving around, I should visualize my double moving around, or try to interact with him, and so on. The idea was to keep him with me the entire time I was in the room.

I had trouble with it for the first few days. It was more controlled than any sort of daydreaming I'd done before. I'd imagine my double for a few minutes, then grow distracted. But by the fourth day, I could manage to keep him "present" for the entire six hours. They told me I was doing very well.

The second week, they gave me a different room, with wall-mounted speakers. They told me they wanted to see if I could still keep the Tulpa with me in spite of distracting stimuli. The music was discordant, ugly and unsettling, and it made the process a little more difficult, but I managed nonetheless. The next week they played even more unsettling music, punctuated with shrieks, feedback loops, what sounded like an old school modem dialing up, and guttural voices speaking some foreign language. I just laughed it off - I was a pro by then.

After about a month, I started to get bored. To liven things up, I started interacting with my doppelganger. We'd have conversations, or play rock-paper-scissors, or I'd imagine him juggling, or break-dancing, or whatever caught my fancy. I asked the researchers if my foolishness would adversely affect their study, but they encouraged me.

So we played, and communicated, and that was fun for a while. And then it got a little strange. I was telling him about my first date one day, and he corrected me. I'd said my date was wearing a yellow top, and he told me it was a green one. I thought about it for a second, and realized he was right. It creeped me out, and after my shift that day, I talked to the researchers about it. "You're using the thought-form to access your subconscious," they explained. "You knew on some level that you were wrong, and you subconsciously corrected yourself."

What had been creepy was suddenly cool. I was talking to my subconscious! It took some practice, but I found that I could question my Tulpa and access all sorts of memories. I could make it quote whole pages of books I'd read once, years before, or things I was taught and immediately forgot in high school. It was awesome.

That was around the time I started "calling up" my double outside of the research center. Not often at first, but I was so used to imagining him by now that it almost seemed odd to not see him. So whenever I was bored, I'd visualize my double. Eventually I started doing it almost all the time. It was amusing to take him along like an invisible friend. I imagined him when I was hanging out with friends, or visiting my mom, I even brought him along on a date once. I didn't need to speak aloud to him, so I was able to carry out conversations with him and no one was the wiser.

I know that sounds strange, but it was fun. Not only was he a walking repository of everything I knew and everything I had forgotten, he also seemed more in touch with me than I did at times. He had an uncanny grasp of the minutiae of body language that I didn't even realize I was picking up on. For example, I'd thought the date I brought him along on was going badly, but he pointed out how she was laughing a little too hard at my jokes, and leaning towards me as I spoke, and a bunch of other subtle clues I wasn't consciously picking up on. I listened, and let's just say that that date went very well.

By the time I'd been at the research center for four months, he was with me constantly. The researchers approached me one day after my shift, and asked me if I'd stopped visualizing him. I denied it, and they seemed pleased. I silently asked my double if he knew what prompted that, but he just shrugged it off. So did I.

I withdrew a little from the world at that point. I was having trouble relating to people. It seemed to me that they were so confused and unsure of themselves, while I had a manifestation of myself to confer with. It made socializing awkward. Nobody else seemed aware of the reasons behind their actions, why some things made them mad and others made them laugh. They didn't know what moved them. But I did - or at least, I could ask myself and get an answer.

A friend confronted me one evening. He pounded at the door until I answered it, and came in fuming and swearing up a storm. "You haven't answered when I called you in fucking weeks, you dick!" he yelled. "What's your fucking problem?"

I was about to apologize to him, and probably would have offered to hit the bars with him that night, but my Tulpa grew suddenly furious. "Hit him," it said, and before I knew what I was doing, I had. I heard his nose break. He fell to the floor and came up swinging, and we beat each other up and down my apartment.

I was more furious then than I have ever been, and I was not merciful. I knocked him to the ground and gave him two savage kicks to the ribs, and that was when he fled, hunched over and sobbing.

The police were by a few minutes later, but I told them that he had been the instigator, and since he wasn't around to refute me, they let me off with a warning. My Tulpa was grinning the entire time. We spent the night crowing about my victory and sneering over how badly I'd beaten my friend.

It wasn't until the next morning, when I was checking out my black eye and cut lip in the mirror, that I remembered what had set me off. My double was the one who'd grown furious, not me. I'd been feeling guilty and a little ashamed, but he'd goaded me into a vicious fight with a concerned friend. He was present, of course, and knew my thoughts. "You don't need him anymore. You don't need anyone else," he told me, and I felt my skin crawl.

I explained all this to the researchers who employed me, but they just laughed it off. "You can't be scared of something that you're imagining," one told me. My double stood beside him, and nodded his head, then smirked at me.

I tried to take their words to heart, but over the next few days I found myself growing more and more anxious around my Tulpa, and it seemed that he was changing. He looked taller, and more menacing. His eyes twinkled with mischief, and I saw malice in his constant smile. No job was worth losing my mind over, I decided. If he was out of control, I'd put him down. I was so used to him at that point that visualizing him was an automatic process, so I started trying my damnedest to not visualize him. It took a few days, but it started to work somewhat. I could get rid of him for hours at a time. But every time he came back, he seemed worse. His skin seemed ashen, his teeth more pointed. He hissed and gibbered and threatened and swore. The discordant music I'd been listening to for months seemed to accompany him everywhere. Even when I was at home - I'd relax and slip up, no longer concentrating on not seeing him, and there he'd be, and that howling noise with him.

I was still visiting the research center and spending my six hours there. I needed the money, and I thought they weren't aware that I was now actively not visualizing my Tulpa. I was wrong. After my shift one day, about five and a half months in, two impressively men grabbed and restrained me, and someone in a lab coat jabbed a hypodermic needle into me.

I woke up from my stupor back in the room, strapped into the bed, music blaring, with my doppelganger standing over me cackling. He hardly looked human anymore. His features were twisted. His eyes were sunken in their sockets and filmed over like a corpse's. He was much taller than me, but hunched over. His hands were twisted, and the fingernails were like talons. He was, in short, fucking terrifying. I tried to will him away, but I just couldn't seem to concentrate. He giggled, and tapped the IV in my arm. I thrashed in my restraints as best I could, but could hardly move at all.

"They're pumping you full of the good shit, I think. How's the mind? All fuzzy?" He leaned closer and closer as he spoke. I gagged; his breath smelt like spoiled meat. I tried to focus, but couldn't banish him.

The next few weeks were terrible. Every so often, someone in a doctor's coat would come in and inject me with something, or force-feed me a pill. They kept me dizzy and unfocused, and sometimes left me hallucinating or delusional. My thoughtform was still present, constantly mocking. He interacted with, or perhaps caused, my delusions. I hallucinated that my mother was there, scolding me, and then he cut her throat and her blood showered me. It was so real that I could taste it.

The doctors never spoke to me. I begged at times, screamed, hurled invectives, demanded answers. They never spoke to me. They may have talked to my Tulpa, my personal monster. I'm not sure. I was so doped and confused that it may have just been more delusion, but I remember them talking with him. I grew convinced that he was the real one, and I was the thoughtform. He encouraged that line of thought at times, mocked me at others.

Another thing that I pray was a delusion: he could touch me. More than that, he could hurt me. He'd poke and prod at me if he felt I wasn't paying enough attention to him. Once he grabbed my testicles and squeezed until I told him I loved him. Another time, he slashed my forearm with one of his talons. I still have a scar - most days I

can convince myself that I injured myself, and just hallucinated that he was responsible. Most days.

Then one day, while he was telling me a story about how he was going to gut everyone I loved, starting with my sister, he paused. A querulous look crossed his face, and reached out and touched my head. Like my mother used to when I was feverish. He stayed still for a long moment, and then smiled. "All thoughts are creative," he told me. Then he walked out the door.

Three hours later, I was given an injection, and passed out. I awoke unrestrained. Shaking, I made my way to the door and found it unlocked. I walked out into the empty hallway, and then ran. I stumbled more than once, but I made it down the stairs and out into the lot behind the building. There, I collapsed, weeping like a child. I knew I had to keep moving, but I couldn't manage it.

I got home eventually - I don't remember how. I locked the door, and shoved a dresser against it, took a long shower, and slept for a day and a half. Nobody came for me in the night, and nobody came the next day, or the one after that. It was over. I'd spent a week locked in that room, but it had felt like a century. I'd withdrawn so much from my life beforehand that nobody had even known I was missing.

The police didn't find anything. The research center was empty when they searched it. The paper trail fell apart. The names I'd given them were aliases. Even the money I'd received was apparently untraceable.

I recovered as much as one can. I don't leave the house much, and I have panic attacks when I do. I cry a lot. I don't sleep much, and my nightmares are terrible. It's over, I tell myself. I survived. I use the concentration those bastards taught me to convince myself. It works, sometimes.

Not today, though. Three days ago, I got a phone call from my mother. There's been a tragedy. My sister's the latest victim in a spree of killings, the police say. The perpetrator mugs his victims, then guts them.

The funeral was this afternoon. It was as lovely a service as a funeral can be, I suppose. I was a little distracted, though. All I could hear was music coming from somewhere distant. Discordant, unsettling stuff, that sounds like feedback, and shrieking, and a modem dialing up. I hear it still - a little louder now

πηγή

σχετική τεχνική υλοποίησης του ενεργειακού διπλού προτείνεται στην http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Tulpa

τον Ιούνιο του 2009 στο Something Awful forums ο χρήστης με το ψευδώνυμο Victor Surge δημοσίευσε φωτογραφίες (for a paranormal pictures Photoshop contest) που συνδέονταν με «αυτό» που ονομάστηκε Slender Man.
Οι φωτογραφίες όλες συνδέονται με το θάνατο ή την εξαφάνιση του φωτογράφου τους, τις περίεργες εξαφανίσεις των παιδιών που απεικονίζονται, τη φωτιά στη βιβλιοθήκη (Stirling City Library blaze) μια βδομάδα μετά τη λήψη της φωτογραφίας, την κατάληξη στο ψυχιατρείο της γυναίκας που «φωτογράφησε» τον Slender Man.
( Camera and film acquired from Gloria Cready, current resident of Woodview Mental Hospital and Psychological Rehabilitation Clinic. Film mostly uncontaminated despite mass of blood and human tissue present on camera. No positive ID on anomalous tall and slender subject. Facial blur caused by possible contamination).

στις 11-8-2012 What is Slender Man?
The creepypasta meme known as Slender Man has only been around on the Internets for 3 years now. It was spawned June 10th, 2009 for a paranormal pictures Photoshop contest on the Something Awful forums. SA forum user Victor Surge was the first person to post Slender Man pictures and coined the term "The Slender Man," which has since turned into just Slender Man

πηγή

http://cassieshouseofhorror.blogspot.gr/2012/08/what-is-slender-man.html

η απρόσωπη οντότητα Slender Man πέρασε τη διαχωριστική γραμμή ανάμεσα στο φανταστικό και το πραγματικό. Άνθρωποι διηγούνται ότι τον είδαν με τη φυσική του παρουσία. Τα δωδεκάχρονα κορίτσια πιστεύουν ότι τον είδαν και αλληλεπίδρασαν μαζί του, παιδιά και ενήλικες δεν διακρίνουν το φανταστικό από την πραγματική ζωή. Αυτό είναι πολύ τρομακτικό πραγματικά…

Benjamin Radford (author of Tracking the Chupacabra and Hoaxes, Myths and Manias) described Slenderman as “a tall, thin, generally silent but menacing stranger in a prim suit,” Children are the victims of this bogeymen.

Even though we KNOW Slenderman is not real but a imaginary monster, he seems to have crossed the line to reality for some people who say they actually see him in physical form. Did these girls think they saw him and could interact with him? Is there something seriously wrong when children (and adults) can not differntiate fiction from factual life? This is very frightening indeed.

Rev. Robin Swope, a pastor at St. Paul’s United Church of Christ in Erie, Pa., believes the Internet-generated monster is real. In his book “Slenderman: From Fiction to Fact,” Swope states that, after years of reviewing stories sent to him by people who claim to have encountered the elusive monster, he has concluded that Slenderman is a literal demonic entity: “We can come to the conclusion that Slenderman is real. The archetype of death that Slenderman embodies is not an archetype at all. Slenderman is the archetype. He is indeed death personified who from countless ages past has hunted down humanity with a relentless determination. If you see him as a child he will forever haunt your dreams and your waking nightmares… There is nothing you can do about it, it is inevitable. Begging and screaming are useless; Slenderman makes no bargains and takes no bribes. Slenderman is coming for you,” he concludes his (non-fiction) book.

According to Rev. Swope, Christian faith and prayer are the only defenses against