The oldest known established proxy of the Slender Man. The third in the original trio of immature pawns of something beyond human comprehension.

He’s the simplest one, as his memories of before are fuzzy and mostly gone. He was an artist, once, and a welder. Young, maybe. Had a family, of course, though he can’t put a face to any names left in his head. But he wishes he could, more than anything.

He’s the closest to the source of the Ragerooms, feeling it the strongest and suffering the hardest under it. Unfortunately, he’s too stubborn to seek help from the other two. Toughing it out on his own is his way of clinging to what little humanity he feels slipping through his fingers every day - asking for help would, he fears, unhinge him completely.

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These days, Macer is locked into vicious rivalry with Jeff (the killer), if only to feel something besides the growing call of the void. He used to create elaborate art and later elaborate traps and killing tools, but as the years wear on he’s settled almost entirely with a fireman’s axe he stole from the nearest town, which he keeps carefully sharpened.