Train exploded. Yeah. It exploded.
The Apostle and Timberwolf boarded the same train to Paris as I was going on. It was the only train departing from that station for hours so it was to be expected. It started as uneventfully as the first one, but became much more 'eventful' mainly by the explosion of the train. The Timberwolf sitting next to the Apostle got up with his bag and left the carriage, a few moments later a large ball of fire was consuming the front of the train.
The entire thing keeled over, different carriages colliding with each other as the forward force of the train push them into one another. Fire flying everywhere. How I survived, I couldn't tell you, maybe it was my semi-existence, maybe I'm just lucky. But I managed to push my way from the rubble, fires licking at my feet. And of course the Apostle had survived as well. Except now he had his hood up and his gas mask on, his grey long-coat billowing enough to reveal a yellow Twin-Triangles emblazoned on his hoodie. An assault rifle cradled in his arms.
A piece of rubble near him moved, pushing its way off a bloodied body, who cried out for help. The Apostle turned the rifle towards them, releasing a short burst of bullets and cutting the screams short. He was making sure there was no survivors. He was probably looking for me. Scribe Theta said that the Sine Corda -and by extension myself- were hated by followers of THE FALLEN. He must have been sent to kill me, as only Apostles can see me. Make sure I was no longer a problem.
As other survivors sprinted for the safety of the treeline they too were shredded my hails of bullets. I couldn't run, but I couldn't stay here either, he was shooting corpses as he slowly walked the length of the train wreck, there would be no survivors. I crawled silently under the cover of the twisted metal, shattered glass cutting my underside. I made my way as far as I could and waited, waited for the sound of bullets that would follow as the Apostle turned his attention to someone else.
I scrambled to my feet and keeping as low and fast as I could headed for the forest, bullets whizzing around me the entire way, one connected with me and I slammed to the ground. Several more gunshots sounded, but they weren't the bursts of the assault rifle, no they were the shots of a smaller gun. Looking back from the now bloodied grass I saw the Apostle fleeing from view as a young, red-haired woman with a handgun sent bullets after him.
Satisfied that the Apostle was gone the woman ran towards me and picked me up from the ground.
"Come on." she had said as we ran from the train wreck through the forests, myself limping the whole way, the bullet hadn't struck my leg, but the wound in my back was enough to make any actions painful. Eventually coming to a road, she pulled out a radio and called for a car which arrived mere moments later, driven by a blonde man in his thirties. We piled ourselves inside and she introduced herself as Collector Epsilon of the Archive and he as Collector Upsilon, before I succumbed to unconsciousness.
I awoke later on a rough cot in a small warehouse in a small French town, where Upsilon was treating my wound. He explained it as a safe house for the Archive, as their line of work may quickly become dangerous with the increase in Timberwolf activity recently. I asked how he knew I would be there, and how the Apostle knew the same.
"Anonymous tips came in for the Archive about a sabotage of your train," chimed in Epsilon as she sat nearby, "I don't know about the Timberwolves."
Upsilon finished sowing up my back, and replaced the bandages on my arm, the wounds from THE RIPPER never did heal, but there isn't an infection. After that they left me here to get some rest. It still really hurts. Now I've got an Apostle and how many Timberwolves after me, at least now I've got a couple of Archivists helping.
-Shady
Wednesday 31 October 2012
Tuesday 30 October 2012
And So Begins My Epic Journey
On a train.
I boarded a train that should take me about half of the way, to where I could take another train to take me to Paris. I grabbed a seat and people instinctively avoided sitting in it; I'm not completely gone, not yet. I thought the journey would go uneventfully, I was wrong.
The train sped through the dark German countryside, suddenly reminding me of the old tales of early Slendy sightings. Der Ritter and Der Großmann in early 1600's. Obviously, the Der Ritter woodcuts were fakes, but some of the legends were probably true, based on what I(we) know now.
As if on cue the train suddenly shrieked as the wheels scraped to a halt, on a hill in the middle of nowhere in the dark near a forest. Yippee! Oh, did I mention the lights went out? Everyone else appeared more annoyed than anything else, but I was being hunted by evil monsters and am much more skeptical about any unfortunate circumstances circling around me and was immediately on my feet. There wasn't exactly much I could do, even if I could talk to the head of the train, it's not like there was anything I could do to make him work faster, everyone wanted to get out of this creepy countryside.
A man came through the doors with a flashlight and several lamps and moved to the centre of the carriage and placed a lamp on a table there, then moved on to the next carriage. A voice sounded over the Tannoy system, giving its address in German, before beginning in English with a very strong German accent.
"Hello, people. This is your driver speaking. The engine system has cut. We apologise for the inconvenience, and hope to have this problem fixed as soon as is possible. Please remain calm and in your seats, food service will begin shortly to keep your minds off the scary forest outside. Thank you."
Not much I could do, so I sat back down and waited for the problem to be "fixed as soon as is possible". I felt odd, like there was something unnatural going on, I couldn't place the feeling. I could see a guy looking around with a look of angry confusion. In his late twenties, brown hair, strong build, wearing a dark grey long-coat and a black hoodie. Nothing strange about that. Not until he glanced over in my direction, not until his eyes hesitated on me. I think he could see me. He didn't stay on me though, I think he could feel my presence, like Scribe Theta said, proximity to people who have been touched by THE HUNGERING have adverse effects on Timberwolves and Apostles, who I think this guy probably was.
It was confirmed when he brushed a strand of brown hair from his face, momentarily revealing a scar in the left of his forehead, a scar in the shape of the Twin-Triangles, symbol of THE FALLEN. He was an Apostle! What he's doing on a train I had no idea, odds are there are a whole group of Timberwolves on board. I sat back, tapping my backpack which contained my gun. I have no idea what would have happened if a firefight broke out, my actions are being erased, what if I die? Is that erased too? Would I come back to life after being killed? Would the unraveling bring him back or was that a perk reserved for Master Nowhere or other members of the Sine Corda.
I didn't have to find out. In what would seem like an anti-climax the lights came back on and the train started back up, heading back off down the tracks. Which it's still doing, no Fear interference here, just normal technical difficulties, hmm! The Apostle stopped looking around and started chatting to another younger man sitting next to him. Likely a Timberwolf. I'm writing this while still on the train. We'll be reaching our destination any moment now. I don't know what to do about the Apostle or the Timberwolves. How much do you want to bet they're going to get the same train to Paris that I am?
And what the hell is an Apostle doing on a normal train in the first place?!
-Shady
I boarded a train that should take me about half of the way, to where I could take another train to take me to Paris. I grabbed a seat and people instinctively avoided sitting in it; I'm not completely gone, not yet. I thought the journey would go uneventfully, I was wrong.
The train sped through the dark German countryside, suddenly reminding me of the old tales of early Slendy sightings. Der Ritter and Der Großmann in early 1600's. Obviously, the Der Ritter woodcuts were fakes, but some of the legends were probably true, based on what I(we) know now.
As if on cue the train suddenly shrieked as the wheels scraped to a halt, on a hill in the middle of nowhere in the dark near a forest. Yippee! Oh, did I mention the lights went out? Everyone else appeared more annoyed than anything else, but I was being hunted by evil monsters and am much more skeptical about any unfortunate circumstances circling around me and was immediately on my feet. There wasn't exactly much I could do, even if I could talk to the head of the train, it's not like there was anything I could do to make him work faster, everyone wanted to get out of this creepy countryside.
A man came through the doors with a flashlight and several lamps and moved to the centre of the carriage and placed a lamp on a table there, then moved on to the next carriage. A voice sounded over the Tannoy system, giving its address in German, before beginning in English with a very strong German accent.
"Hello, people. This is your driver speaking. The engine system has cut. We apologise for the inconvenience, and hope to have this problem fixed as soon as is possible. Please remain calm and in your seats, food service will begin shortly to keep your minds off the scary forest outside. Thank you."
Not much I could do, so I sat back down and waited for the problem to be "fixed as soon as is possible". I felt odd, like there was something unnatural going on, I couldn't place the feeling. I could see a guy looking around with a look of angry confusion. In his late twenties, brown hair, strong build, wearing a dark grey long-coat and a black hoodie. Nothing strange about that. Not until he glanced over in my direction, not until his eyes hesitated on me. I think he could see me. He didn't stay on me though, I think he could feel my presence, like Scribe Theta said, proximity to people who have been touched by THE HUNGERING have adverse effects on Timberwolves and Apostles, who I think this guy probably was.
It was confirmed when he brushed a strand of brown hair from his face, momentarily revealing a scar in the left of his forehead, a scar in the shape of the Twin-Triangles, symbol of THE FALLEN. He was an Apostle! What he's doing on a train I had no idea, odds are there are a whole group of Timberwolves on board. I sat back, tapping my backpack which contained my gun. I have no idea what would have happened if a firefight broke out, my actions are being erased, what if I die? Is that erased too? Would I come back to life after being killed? Would the unraveling bring him back or was that a perk reserved for Master Nowhere or other members of the Sine Corda.
I didn't have to find out. In what would seem like an anti-climax the lights came back on and the train started back up, heading back off down the tracks. Which it's still doing, no Fear interference here, just normal technical difficulties, hmm! The Apostle stopped looking around and started chatting to another younger man sitting next to him. Likely a Timberwolf. I'm writing this while still on the train. We'll be reaching our destination any moment now. I don't know what to do about the Apostle or the Timberwolves. How much do you want to bet they're going to get the same train to Paris that I am?
And what the hell is an Apostle doing on a normal train in the first place?!
-Shady
Actually GETTING Information
This E-Mail was received this morning at 7:00 am., the same moment I awoke.
SΘ: You're here?
Shady: Yeah.
SΘ: Good.
SΘ: Firstly, we shall answer what questions you have to the best of our ability.
Shady: Fine then. What can you tell me about the Nevermore Accord?
SΘ: Nevermore Accord -File not found.
SΘ: The Nevermore Accord does not exist.
Shady: That's a real comfort when I'm being unraveled by them.
Shady: What can you tell me about Master Nowhere?
SΘ: Master Nowhere -Agent of the Sine Corda. Sightings go as far back as the 16th century. Whether it is one person given long life through some unconfirmed means or a title passed down, along with the ritual destruction of their flesh, is unknown.
Shady: Hmm. What about the Sine Corda, anything you can tell me about them that I don't already know?
SΘ: Sine Corda .narrow search. -Archive investigation has been unable to confirm nor deny the claims of "heartlessness" held among members of the Sine Corda. Dissections of deceased Sine Corda have discovered the presence of a basic human heart, however [Classified] has stated that the hearts of Sine Corda agents are returned upon death. Living members of the Sine Corda have not been recovered for testing. [...]Due to the nature of the Sine Corda and their service to PRE19, their souls are claimed by The Quiet upon death, as such they cannot be used by PRE03: "Archangel" as hosts. Nor may they pass on to any possible afterlife that may await one upon death.
Shady: Okay then. Any theories on the "something very special" inside me?
SΘ: The vagueness of the statement renders it impossible to confirm any suspicions.
SΘ: If you would join us at the Archive Centre at [Rescinded], Paris, France, we shall examine you and uncover both what is inside you and the effects of PRE19 on a body. The Grandfather's blessing renders us immune to your alternate quantum state.
Shady: I'll think about it.
SΘ: We hope you will.
SΘ: Also, watch out for Timberwolves. They are not immune, although an Apostle would be. They do not take kindly to any presence of The Quiet as its presence destroys their connection to their master.
Not a lot there, but it helps. I'll probably start out towards Paris later today. I hope I don't run into any Timberwolves, they're a gang of nasty Archangel cultists who, as stated above, won't take kindly to me passing through their territory.
-Shady
Paul [Rescinded],I did so.
aka Shady,
As stated in your post we have indeed been watching your blog and have been keeping a close eye on you and your actions. This communication shall be short, we may have some information pertaining to your condition and we shall communicate this to you. This interaction between yourself and The Quiet has rarely been recorded and we have little information on this phenomenon, we would enjoy discovering more about it through study of the quantum interactions of your matter during "unraveling". We regret to inform you that we have no methods to stop the progress of The Quiet, but any information we may get from you shall go forward to uncovering a way to do so. Please enter [Rescinded] into your internet search engine of choice so we may communicate further.
-Scribe Theta,
The Archive
SΘ: You're here?
Shady: Yeah.
SΘ: Good.
SΘ: Firstly, we shall answer what questions you have to the best of our ability.
Shady: Fine then. What can you tell me about the Nevermore Accord?
SΘ: Nevermore Accord -File not found.
SΘ: The Nevermore Accord does not exist.
Shady: That's a real comfort when I'm being unraveled by them.
Shady: What can you tell me about Master Nowhere?
SΘ: Master Nowhere -Agent of the Sine Corda. Sightings go as far back as the 16th century. Whether it is one person given long life through some unconfirmed means or a title passed down, along with the ritual destruction of their flesh, is unknown.
Shady: Hmm. What about the Sine Corda, anything you can tell me about them that I don't already know?
SΘ: Sine Corda .narrow search. -Archive investigation has been unable to confirm nor deny the claims of "heartlessness" held among members of the Sine Corda. Dissections of deceased Sine Corda have discovered the presence of a basic human heart, however [Classified] has stated that the hearts of Sine Corda agents are returned upon death. Living members of the Sine Corda have not been recovered for testing. [...]Due to the nature of the Sine Corda and their service to PRE19, their souls are claimed by The Quiet upon death, as such they cannot be used by PRE03: "Archangel" as hosts. Nor may they pass on to any possible afterlife that may await one upon death.
Shady: Okay then. Any theories on the "something very special" inside me?
SΘ: The vagueness of the statement renders it impossible to confirm any suspicions.
SΘ: If you would join us at the Archive Centre at [Rescinded], Paris, France, we shall examine you and uncover both what is inside you and the effects of PRE19 on a body. The Grandfather's blessing renders us immune to your alternate quantum state.
Shady: I'll think about it.
SΘ: We hope you will.
SΘ: Also, watch out for Timberwolves. They are not immune, although an Apostle would be. They do not take kindly to any presence of The Quiet as its presence destroys their connection to their master.
Not a lot there, but it helps. I'll probably start out towards Paris later today. I hope I don't run into any Timberwolves, they're a gang of nasty Archangel cultists who, as stated above, won't take kindly to me passing through their territory.
-Shady
Monday 29 October 2012
Getting Information
Needless to say, I'm curious as to what's going on. I know what the Sine Corda are, I said that in my last post. However, the Nevermore Accord and the "something very special" inside me, I have no idea about. So I'll start this off asking if anyone has ideas. Theories. Any information that may be pertinent to my current situation.
Leaving people to think about that, I'm going to do some research of my own. The best place to get knowledge is the Archive. Followers of the Blind Man. Despite being servants of a Fear, they appear mostly benevolent and only interested in the acquisition of more knowledge for their master. To be honest, I'm skeptical, THE UNSEER has been compared to THE HUNGERING on occasion, both being Fears of Losing Things -memories and objects respectively. There has been a speculated connection between the two.
Hopefully it's not true. Or at least, hopefully I'll be able to interact with an Archivist who will help. The main problem (for now at least) is that to get information, I'm going to need information. There are Archivists everywhere, there's probably one reading this blog, anywhere they can get information on the other Fears they're going to be lurking. But I need to find one, or in the very least talk to one through some means. I'm hoping that as Fear servants they'll have a certain immunity to my 'non-existing-ness'. If they don't then we'll have to communicate through this blog.
So, to summarise:
Leaving people to think about that, I'm going to do some research of my own. The best place to get knowledge is the Archive. Followers of the Blind Man. Despite being servants of a Fear, they appear mostly benevolent and only interested in the acquisition of more knowledge for their master. To be honest, I'm skeptical, THE UNSEER has been compared to THE HUNGERING on occasion, both being Fears of Losing Things -memories and objects respectively. There has been a speculated connection between the two.
Hopefully it's not true. Or at least, hopefully I'll be able to interact with an Archivist who will help. The main problem (for now at least) is that to get information, I'm going to need information. There are Archivists everywhere, there's probably one reading this blog, anywhere they can get information on the other Fears they're going to be lurking. But I need to find one, or in the very least talk to one through some means. I'm hoping that as Fear servants they'll have a certain immunity to my 'non-existing-ness'. If they don't then we'll have to communicate through this blog.
So, to summarise:
- Anyone who has information on the anything of interest, please tell me.
- Anyone who has information on the location of an Archivist, please tell me.
- Anyone who IS an Archivist, I refer you to point one.
Thank you.
-Shady
Sunday 28 October 2012
Heartless
I was sick and tired of it. The Stitched Man as far as I could tell wasn't a Fear, unless there's others out there that people don't know about, making him likely a proxy of some kind. Proxies can die. Mr. Proxiehunter can vouch for that. Shoot it in the face and it should die. That was the plan anyway.
The Sine Corda. Agents of THE HUNGERING. Supposedly there is a hole where their hearts should be, created by THE HUNGERING. Hence the name, Latin for "Without hearts." It's been speculated that the Sine Corda don't actually do THE HUNGERING's bidding as It cares nothing for anything, thus it's only their delusions that they do as THE HUNGERING wills. I don't know. It unraveled my attempt to kill him.
"Well then..." I gasped, his foot still pressing down on my chest, "Why me?"
"You have a very special quality," he said, "There's something very special inside of you. It gives you something that we of the Nevermore Accord are very interested in."
"Are you going to tell me what?" I wheezed.
He shook his head, "Not yet. Not now. Just wait."
"Oh..." I said, "Okay."
I turned the gun towards him and shot his face again, sending him flying off me. I clambered to my feet, racing off as quickly as I could. Glancing over my shoulder I saw his death in reverse, the bullet falling out of his face as the flesh regenerated. He glared after me, before dispersing into void.
I'm going to live. If not for me than I'm going to find out everything about THE HUNGERING and the plans of the Sine Corda and the Nevermore Accord and I'm going to tell everyone that'll listen and maybe together I can stop the whole thing. S said this blog will survive. Then I will too. Screw their plans! I'm going to shoot his face off and I'm going to make it stick!
-Shady
The way I saw it: He only appears when he wants to, he can appear anywhere he wants, if he wanted to kill me he would/could have done it by now, showing up with a gun will either kill him or not. If so, hooray. If not, nothing changes, if he can't die I'm no threat to him and things carry on as normal. I couldn't make things any worse.
I went out walking with a gun. No one can see me so being inconspicuous wasn't a problem. I was expecting the Stitched Man to show up and low and behold he did. I found him at the edge of the city, hood down, still invisible, just staring at me as usual. I aimed the gun at his head, which he tilted curiously at the sight of it.
Bang.
I honestly didn't know I was that good of a shot, but the bullet came out, and blood burst out the back of his head. The gun wasn't unraveled, the bullet wasn't unraveled, everything was there and everything went according to plan. He collapsed onto his back. Dead as far as I could tell. I think he was dead, he just didn't stay dead. Or as I guess you could say, I never even shot him.
He rose to his feet without any support, the bullet shot out of his face, the blood spraying back inside his skull and flesh reforming over the hole. The bullet re-entered my gun and everything was as it was before I had shot him. It was undone.
I was useless, everything I did would become moot. All actions become obsolete. I had no reason for anything. Stitchy started walking towards me, I dropped to my knees, nothing I could do to stop him. He kicked me onto my back, placing a black boot on my chest and glared down at me with his lack of intact eyes. He leaned down close, a knife in his hand, brandishing it like some stereotypical serial killer.
"Have you realised the futility of your actions?" his voice inside my own head.
"Who are you?" I asked, figuring if he thought my actions were futile he could be reveal information and I could do nothing about it. Clearly his reasoning too.
"I am Master Nowhere of the Sine Corda," he said within my mind.
"Well then..." I gasped, his foot still pressing down on my chest, "Why me?"
"You have a very special quality," he said, "There's something very special inside of you. It gives you something that we of the Nevermore Accord are very interested in."
"Are you going to tell me what?" I wheezed.
He shook his head, "Not yet. Not now. Just wait."
"Oh..." I said, "Okay."
I turned the gun towards him and shot his face again, sending him flying off me. I clambered to my feet, racing off as quickly as I could. Glancing over my shoulder I saw his death in reverse, the bullet falling out of his face as the flesh regenerated. He glared after me, before dispersing into void.
I'm going to live. If not for me than I'm going to find out everything about THE HUNGERING and the plans of the Sine Corda and the Nevermore Accord and I'm going to tell everyone that'll listen and maybe together I can stop the whole thing. S said this blog will survive. Then I will too. Screw their plans! I'm going to shoot his face off and I'm going to make it stick!
-Shady
Saturday 27 October 2012
Matters in my own Hands
I have a gun.
I'm going to use it.
Stitchy won't know what hit him until it's bursting out the back of his head.
-Shady
I'm going to use it.
Stitchy won't know what hit him until it's bursting out the back of his head.
-Shady
Friday 26 October 2012
I'm Back, Baby!
To cut a long story short I got to mainland Europe fairly uneventfully. I got to the airport, bought myself a ticket to Berlin (cause I know 'some' German), boarded the plane to said destination, flew there, and arrived. A process usually known as "air travel".
That's when the creepiness started. Wandering through the Berlin airport with my bag, moving out of the way of the swarming people as they had no intention of moving for me, my phone out, writing a post for this blog to update everyone to my situation. I saw the un-Hooded Stalker Freak. His face out for all to see, presumably just as invisible to the people around as I was. Looking at him all noise seemed to drain from the area, dulling to white-noise and then nothing. Becoming Quiet.
He didn't appear to have any intention of moving against me and I didn't really like the notion of engaging him. I don't even know if he can die. Nonetheless, we fought in a sense, a staring contest. He may have had the advantage, not actually having eyes, but I was unable to break his gaze. My hands just as unmoving and unable to continue writing. I heard it before I saw it, the first sound in a while, a creaking and cracking. The windows behind him were turning blue, frost spreading over them. I heard a distant voice. A child. The words drifting to me on the cold air.
"The Itsy Bitsy Spider went up the water spout.
Down came the rain, and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun, and dried up all the rain
And the Itsy Bitsy Spider went up the spout again."
The cold had become too much to bare, I had to escape. I used what will I had and managed to snap from the gaze of the Stitched Man, turning to get as far away as I could from him. Which as it turns out wasn't very far.
I spun around, coming face to...kind of over face with THE FROST. The boy's face gazing up at me curiously, a small hand of ice reached out. I was frozen in more ways than one, unable to pull back from his reach. His cold fingers came into contact with my hand. The pain was impossible. My hand completely frozen in an instant, the cold burning it more than any fire. I screamed and dropped to the ground, my phone falling from my hand. The shock to my system was enough to snap me from my Isolation, sound once more returning to the world, the air being pumped with heat, colour filling the previously icy air.
I jolted to my feet, my hand still completely unable to move. I'm amazed it didn't succumb to frost-bite and fall off, but maybe that's because it wouldn't hurt so much then. Hand can't hurt if I don't have one, there's a reason these things are called Fears. I ran out of there, not even noticing my lack of phone. I got onto a bus to the city, prepared to pay the fee, it wasn't necessary. The bus-driver couldn't see me. I was almost completely gone now. I could walk right past anyone and go anywhere. It hardly made me feel any better. Not emotionally and needless to say, not physically.
I figured if I'm going to stay somewhere, now that I'm invisible I may as well stay somewhere with class. I went to the nearest 5 star hotel and grabbed a key from behind the counter, no one stopping me or even looking at me. I got up to my room and climbed into bed, exhausted in so many ways, wrapping my hand up in the blanket. I fell asleep and dreamed of nothing, not not dreaming, dreaming of nothing.
I awoke the next morning, the room bright, warm and undisturbed by evil monsters. This certainly did make me feel better, in both ways. Man, I wish that had lasted longer. I reached into my bag, figuring this was a good time for a blog update, only to discover there was no phone in that bag. That wasn't terrible, I could just use the hotel internet or get a new one, all for free. Then it struck me. Without my phone I no longer had my protection from Time-Lapses, no phone = no story = Aaaah!
I raced from the room, something told me the hotel internet wouldn't cut it. I don't have a rule-book on this sort of thing (If anyone has one, please tell me!), but I felt I needed something in my inner circle. I needed to own it. I ran through the city, fortunately I never undressed when I went to bed to night before, searching for a phone or laptop store. I wasn't fast enough. I keeled over, every atom in my body being wrenched from the time-space continuum before being dropped back inside eight hours later.
I continued on my trek, finding a phone shop, running inside and grabbing a phone (a nice upgrade in fact), no one intercepting me or disturbing me as I desperately waited for the thing to turn on. Navigating my way through it to where I could re-write my story. Bleep!
No Battery.
Grabbing the appropriate charger I ran to the nearest place with an outlet, an internet café, and plugged the thing in. A few eternities later the little battery bar had moved up two places, only to drop one. THE HUNGERING has decided, yeah: DECIDED, it was going to unravel my bloody battery! I dropped to the ground again, tasting blood in my mouth as my surroundings buzzed, picking myself back up nineteen whole hours later! AND THE BATTERY WAS ONLY TWO BARS FULL!!!
I spent the next few days in that café. I tried using a computer provided: No use. I lifted someone else's phone: Bleep -No Battery. I took a laptop to the same result. They only intensified, skipping hours at a time, more than once vomiting, more than once it was blood. I thought I was going to die then and there (when/where ever then and there was), when I heard the phone Bleep! the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. Grabbing it again I flicked it through as fast as my fingers could, my injury completely overcome by pure adrenaline. Writing the whole thing out again, I sat back. It was earlier today at about two in the morning and I dragged myself back to my hotel room, lying in bed and sleeping until a few minutes ago. Satisfied I had stopped the lapses, I finally managed an update to my blog, recounting what had happened, ie. This!
You didn't think the "Long story short" remark at the start was referring to the whole post did you? Long story short: I'm back, baby!
-Shady
PS. Thank you Mr. Knight for saving my life with your suggestion.
That's when the creepiness started. Wandering through the Berlin airport with my bag, moving out of the way of the swarming people as they had no intention of moving for me, my phone out, writing a post for this blog to update everyone to my situation. I saw the un-Hooded Stalker Freak. His face out for all to see, presumably just as invisible to the people around as I was. Looking at him all noise seemed to drain from the area, dulling to white-noise and then nothing. Becoming Quiet.
He didn't appear to have any intention of moving against me and I didn't really like the notion of engaging him. I don't even know if he can die. Nonetheless, we fought in a sense, a staring contest. He may have had the advantage, not actually having eyes, but I was unable to break his gaze. My hands just as unmoving and unable to continue writing. I heard it before I saw it, the first sound in a while, a creaking and cracking. The windows behind him were turning blue, frost spreading over them. I heard a distant voice. A child. The words drifting to me on the cold air.
"The Itsy Bitsy Spider went up the water spout.
Down came the rain, and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun, and dried up all the rain
And the Itsy Bitsy Spider went up the spout again."
The cold had become too much to bare, I had to escape. I used what will I had and managed to snap from the gaze of the Stitched Man, turning to get as far away as I could from him. Which as it turns out wasn't very far.
I spun around, coming face to...kind of over face with THE FROST. The boy's face gazing up at me curiously, a small hand of ice reached out. I was frozen in more ways than one, unable to pull back from his reach. His cold fingers came into contact with my hand. The pain was impossible. My hand completely frozen in an instant, the cold burning it more than any fire. I screamed and dropped to the ground, my phone falling from my hand. The shock to my system was enough to snap me from my Isolation, sound once more returning to the world, the air being pumped with heat, colour filling the previously icy air.
I jolted to my feet, my hand still completely unable to move. I'm amazed it didn't succumb to frost-bite and fall off, but maybe that's because it wouldn't hurt so much then. Hand can't hurt if I don't have one, there's a reason these things are called Fears. I ran out of there, not even noticing my lack of phone. I got onto a bus to the city, prepared to pay the fee, it wasn't necessary. The bus-driver couldn't see me. I was almost completely gone now. I could walk right past anyone and go anywhere. It hardly made me feel any better. Not emotionally and needless to say, not physically.
I figured if I'm going to stay somewhere, now that I'm invisible I may as well stay somewhere with class. I went to the nearest 5 star hotel and grabbed a key from behind the counter, no one stopping me or even looking at me. I got up to my room and climbed into bed, exhausted in so many ways, wrapping my hand up in the blanket. I fell asleep and dreamed of nothing, not not dreaming, dreaming of nothing.
I awoke the next morning, the room bright, warm and undisturbed by evil monsters. This certainly did make me feel better, in both ways. Man, I wish that had lasted longer. I reached into my bag, figuring this was a good time for a blog update, only to discover there was no phone in that bag. That wasn't terrible, I could just use the hotel internet or get a new one, all for free. Then it struck me. Without my phone I no longer had my protection from Time-Lapses, no phone = no story = Aaaah!
I raced from the room, something told me the hotel internet wouldn't cut it. I don't have a rule-book on this sort of thing (If anyone has one, please tell me!), but I felt I needed something in my inner circle. I needed to own it. I ran through the city, fortunately I never undressed when I went to bed to night before, searching for a phone or laptop store. I wasn't fast enough. I keeled over, every atom in my body being wrenched from the time-space continuum before being dropped back inside eight hours later.
I continued on my trek, finding a phone shop, running inside and grabbing a phone (a nice upgrade in fact), no one intercepting me or disturbing me as I desperately waited for the thing to turn on. Navigating my way through it to where I could re-write my story. Bleep!
No Battery.
Grabbing the appropriate charger I ran to the nearest place with an outlet, an internet café, and plugged the thing in. A few eternities later the little battery bar had moved up two places, only to drop one. THE HUNGERING has decided, yeah: DECIDED, it was going to unravel my bloody battery! I dropped to the ground again, tasting blood in my mouth as my surroundings buzzed, picking myself back up nineteen whole hours later! AND THE BATTERY WAS ONLY TWO BARS FULL!!!
I spent the next few days in that café. I tried using a computer provided: No use. I lifted someone else's phone: Bleep -No Battery. I took a laptop to the same result. They only intensified, skipping hours at a time, more than once vomiting, more than once it was blood. I thought I was going to die then and there (when/where ever then and there was), when I heard the phone Bleep! the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. Grabbing it again I flicked it through as fast as my fingers could, my injury completely overcome by pure adrenaline. Writing the whole thing out again, I sat back. It was earlier today at about two in the morning and I dragged myself back to my hotel room, lying in bed and sleeping until a few minutes ago. Satisfied I had stopped the lapses, I finally managed an update to my blog, recounting what had happened, ie. This!
You didn't think the "Long story short" remark at the start was referring to the whole post did you? Long story short: I'm back, baby!
-Shady
PS. Thank you Mr. Knight for saving my life with your suggestion.
Thursday 18 October 2012
Hunted by a Garden Tool
Get it? It's a rake! Man, I'm so unfunny.
Anyway, yeah. I swore a lot there. It seamed like the right thing to do. Essentially, THE RIPPER decided it wanted to kill me now.
I was lying in bed, trying to get to sleep, it's not that easy when your in this much danger. The leaking tap in the bathroom along with the flickering neon sign outside didn't help much either. Sleazy motels don't just exist on TV. I was lying on my back, staring at the grey mould above my bed, hoping it wasn't THE CHORUS, when I started hearing unintelligible whispers; first thought: THE CHORUS. It wasn't.
I heard scraping at the door, something with large claws trying to get through. I was up like a shot, grabbing any loose possessions and shoving them unceremoniously into my bag, along with my phone after I made my post. I grabbed the lamp from the bedside table, holding it at the ready like some majestic sword. The door didn't hold up long, chips began to fly as long claws began to slide through, tearing out chunks of wood until a hole big enough was made for the thing to get inside.
It sat in its freshly made doorway, down on its haunches, claws lightly tapping the ground. Long, metal blades fused into its fingers, bloodied and rusted, pustules have sprouted where the claws meet the fingers. They tap the floorboards almost hypnotically, the sounds of scissors accompanying each movement. Then there's its eyes. Wide and almost curious, giving it an almost innocent look, but they're wrong! Just wrong! They're human. Young, bright, human eyes, a cheerful shade of blue. Looking at them they look like a child's eyes, they don't fit this thing, they've been twisted into service for a monster. A monster is looking at you with the eyes of the innocent! It's wrong.
The creature swept into the room, scurrying along gracefully, its claws making periodic scrapes on the floorboards. The thing was on me within a second, before I even had time to strike out with the lamp. It forced me against the wall, my eyes fixed to its own, unable to break the gaze. It rose slightly, still hunched over but just slightly below my face. It raised a hand to my face, touching me with what could almost be thought of as...as care. Its claws were in the way however, and as it soon as it made contact a small cut was made on my cheek. I recoiled and it quickly whipped its hand away, opening its mouth and revealing its yellowed and decayed teeth.
It screamed. A scream I refuse to describe for the sake of my sanity.
Startled out of my trance I realised that it would probable kill me any moment now, so I lifted the lamp, slamming it into its head. It stumbled back and I seized the opportunity instantly. Grabbing my bag I sprinted out the door, squeezing through the hole it had made rather than fumbling with keys. It wasn't dazed for long and gave chase almost instantly, pursuing me down the hallway, scurrying like an insect.
I reached the elevator, already at my floor in an act of extreme luck, pulling open the old-fashioned grate acting as a door and got inside, slamming the button for ground floor. The gears creaked and groaned as the elevator began to lower itself at a painfully slow pace. THE RIPPER reached the elevator just before it dropped out of sight of that floor, reaching a hand in. Its flesh wasn't enough to stop the elevator and the metal ripped its hand from the limb, landing in front of me as I pressed myself against the side of the elevator, panting heavily. The hand twitched repeatedly, like some dead spider, but didn't seam to have any remaining motor function.
My relief didn't last long however. THE RIPPER dropped down on the top of the elevator, the claws on its remaining hand scraping against the metal as they reached in, I had dropped to the floor and they were unable to reach me. Then something impossible happened: They grew. The metal stretched out, elongating just enough to reach me. They "raked" me across my arm as I raised it defensively and blood rapidly began pouring from the wounds.
The elevator reached the ground and I opened the grate, rushing out, hugging my bleeding arm. The creature let out a scream after me as it was trapped atop the elevator. I ran and didn't stop running for several blocks. After ensuring I had escaped I dropped to ground, exhausted from running and loss of blood. I had bandages in my bag so I began wrapping up my arm as skillfully as I could.
Now I'm just walking around aimlessly. I've heard THE RIPPER can infect people with its claws. Make them sick and delusional. That's all I need right now.
-Shady
Anyway, yeah. I swore a lot there. It seamed like the right thing to do. Essentially, THE RIPPER decided it wanted to kill me now.
I was lying in bed, trying to get to sleep, it's not that easy when your in this much danger. The leaking tap in the bathroom along with the flickering neon sign outside didn't help much either. Sleazy motels don't just exist on TV. I was lying on my back, staring at the grey mould above my bed, hoping it wasn't THE CHORUS, when I started hearing unintelligible whispers; first thought: THE CHORUS. It wasn't.
I heard scraping at the door, something with large claws trying to get through. I was up like a shot, grabbing any loose possessions and shoving them unceremoniously into my bag, along with my phone after I made my post. I grabbed the lamp from the bedside table, holding it at the ready like some majestic sword. The door didn't hold up long, chips began to fly as long claws began to slide through, tearing out chunks of wood until a hole big enough was made for the thing to get inside.
It sat in its freshly made doorway, down on its haunches, claws lightly tapping the ground. Long, metal blades fused into its fingers, bloodied and rusted, pustules have sprouted where the claws meet the fingers. They tap the floorboards almost hypnotically, the sounds of scissors accompanying each movement. Then there's its eyes. Wide and almost curious, giving it an almost innocent look, but they're wrong! Just wrong! They're human. Young, bright, human eyes, a cheerful shade of blue. Looking at them they look like a child's eyes, they don't fit this thing, they've been twisted into service for a monster. A monster is looking at you with the eyes of the innocent! It's wrong.
The creature swept into the room, scurrying along gracefully, its claws making periodic scrapes on the floorboards. The thing was on me within a second, before I even had time to strike out with the lamp. It forced me against the wall, my eyes fixed to its own, unable to break the gaze. It rose slightly, still hunched over but just slightly below my face. It raised a hand to my face, touching me with what could almost be thought of as...as care. Its claws were in the way however, and as it soon as it made contact a small cut was made on my cheek. I recoiled and it quickly whipped its hand away, opening its mouth and revealing its yellowed and decayed teeth.
It screamed. A scream I refuse to describe for the sake of my sanity.
Startled out of my trance I realised that it would probable kill me any moment now, so I lifted the lamp, slamming it into its head. It stumbled back and I seized the opportunity instantly. Grabbing my bag I sprinted out the door, squeezing through the hole it had made rather than fumbling with keys. It wasn't dazed for long and gave chase almost instantly, pursuing me down the hallway, scurrying like an insect.
I reached the elevator, already at my floor in an act of extreme luck, pulling open the old-fashioned grate acting as a door and got inside, slamming the button for ground floor. The gears creaked and groaned as the elevator began to lower itself at a painfully slow pace. THE RIPPER reached the elevator just before it dropped out of sight of that floor, reaching a hand in. Its flesh wasn't enough to stop the elevator and the metal ripped its hand from the limb, landing in front of me as I pressed myself against the side of the elevator, panting heavily. The hand twitched repeatedly, like some dead spider, but didn't seam to have any remaining motor function.
My relief didn't last long however. THE RIPPER dropped down on the top of the elevator, the claws on its remaining hand scraping against the metal as they reached in, I had dropped to the floor and they were unable to reach me. Then something impossible happened: They grew. The metal stretched out, elongating just enough to reach me. They "raked" me across my arm as I raised it defensively and blood rapidly began pouring from the wounds.
The elevator reached the ground and I opened the grate, rushing out, hugging my bleeding arm. The creature let out a scream after me as it was trapped atop the elevator. I ran and didn't stop running for several blocks. After ensuring I had escaped I dropped to ground, exhausted from running and loss of blood. I had bandages in my bag so I began wrapping up my arm as skillfully as I could.
Now I'm just walking around aimlessly. I've heard THE RIPPER can infect people with its claws. Make them sick and delusional. That's all I need right now.
-Shady
Wednesday 17 October 2012
An Appropriate Response
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!
The Great Wallet Heist
Some of you may have noticed that I have redesigned the layout of the Blog, if you haven't, open your eyes! Although being a Runner may occupy my legs most of the time, my hands are mostly free, hence this. It also serves to help keep my mind off the COSMIC ABOMINATIONS HUNTING ME!!!, a very pleasant distraction from that.
On to the thievery. I left the motel and headed into the main parts of the city, I was hungry so I decided to find a café so I could get some food before I robbed the place. I found one with a self service buffet-type deal, which is necessary as no one ever remembers my orders, and got some food. I payed the woman at the counter and sat at a table, eating my "meal" of a chocolate-chip muffin and coke.
I took this time to check up on my blog, deciding to pimp it out, give it a more personal feel, this is the result. After I was finished I popped the last bit of my muffin into my mouth and grabbing what remained of my coke I made my way to the bathroom. Emerging again to stand near the counter, I was looking at my phone to make me look like I was texting or some such, 'not' waiting for a chance to grab some cash. Although it probably didn't matter, people never take any notice of me anymore, as long as I'm not directly interfering with them -such as stealing their wallet.
The cash register was "heavily guarded" by a twenty-something year-old woman with short blonde hair. But then a better(or at least easier) opportunity came, a man left his wallet on the counter to reach for his ringing mobile-phone, I steeled myself, for once hoping that I'd be rapidly forgotten. I swooped in, discreetly swiping the wallet and slid around the man, walking swiftly out the door.
"Hey! You!" I'd been spotted.
I sprinted out, over the street and into the square across the way, careful timing allowing me to avoid being splattered by oncoming cars. The man emerged from the café, shouting after me, but the traffic wasn't so light for him and he was unable to pursue me across the road. I watched from the cobbled ground of the square, drinking from my bottle of coke, as a confused expression spread across his face. He reached to his back pocket, and failing to find what he sought, began to frisk his other pockets and coat.
"Where's my wallet?" he mouthed, turning and heading back into the café.
Huzzah! My first successful robbery. Maybe I'll try a bank next time. Or a train! That would be cool.
I searched the wallet, finding several dozen euro, a library card and a couple credit cards. He was wearing a business suit so I'm presuming he has a fair amount in his account. I'll try the airport tomorrow, fortunately people don't seem able to look at me properly so my age shouldn't be a problem when trying to buy a ticket.
Back at my motel for now, still no further sightings. I drank all my coke.
-Shady
On to the thievery. I left the motel and headed into the main parts of the city, I was hungry so I decided to find a café so I could get some food before I robbed the place. I found one with a self service buffet-type deal, which is necessary as no one ever remembers my orders, and got some food. I payed the woman at the counter and sat at a table, eating my "meal" of a chocolate-chip muffin and coke.
I took this time to check up on my blog, deciding to pimp it out, give it a more personal feel, this is the result. After I was finished I popped the last bit of my muffin into my mouth and grabbing what remained of my coke I made my way to the bathroom. Emerging again to stand near the counter, I was looking at my phone to make me look like I was texting or some such, 'not' waiting for a chance to grab some cash. Although it probably didn't matter, people never take any notice of me anymore, as long as I'm not directly interfering with them -such as stealing their wallet.
The cash register was "heavily guarded" by a twenty-something year-old woman with short blonde hair. But then a better(or at least easier) opportunity came, a man left his wallet on the counter to reach for his ringing mobile-phone, I steeled myself, for once hoping that I'd be rapidly forgotten. I swooped in, discreetly swiping the wallet and slid around the man, walking swiftly out the door.
"Hey! You!" I'd been spotted.
I sprinted out, over the street and into the square across the way, careful timing allowing me to avoid being splattered by oncoming cars. The man emerged from the café, shouting after me, but the traffic wasn't so light for him and he was unable to pursue me across the road. I watched from the cobbled ground of the square, drinking from my bottle of coke, as a confused expression spread across his face. He reached to his back pocket, and failing to find what he sought, began to frisk his other pockets and coat.
"Where's my wallet?" he mouthed, turning and heading back into the café.
Huzzah! My first successful robbery. Maybe I'll try a bank next time. Or a train! That would be cool.
I searched the wallet, finding several dozen euro, a library card and a couple credit cards. He was wearing a business suit so I'm presuming he has a fair amount in his account. I'll try the airport tomorrow, fortunately people don't seem able to look at me properly so my age shouldn't be a problem when trying to buy a ticket.
Back at my motel for now, still no further sightings. I drank all my coke.
-Shady
Thief with a Twist
Now that I'm a Runner, I need to run more. Or at least move a lot. I always need to either be moving, or sleeping so I can regain my energy for more moving, preferably at the same time (three cheers for public transport!). Ireland isn't the best place for this, it's small, so all I can really do is catch buses in circles around the island. What I need to do is get to mainland Europe, then I've got all of Europe, Asia and Africa to roam around without having to buy an expensive plane ticket, my money is after all in short supply.
Unfortunately, to get there, I need to buy an expensive plane ticket.
I don't know how much it costs to get a plane ticket to mainland Europe, I only need to get to the coast, or even just to Britain and then I can get across the channel, in any case I've only got a few hundred...€237 to be precise. I don't think that's enough to get a plane ticket, not a last minute one at least which I'd need if I didn't want my ticket to unravel before I even got on board.
I need a way to get some money. Stealing! The victim wouldn't remember me a few moments after I took the money. I'm like the Silence from Doctor Who, that's kinda awesome. And the money would slowly ravel its way back to the owner and they wouldn't even know they were stolen from. It's a win-win, I'd win 'cause I get extra money, and they'd win 'cause they wouldn't lose any. No harm, no foul. No consequences!
Now I just need an opportunity. Time to take a stroll and see what shops have left their cash registers momentarily unattended.
-Shady
Unfortunately, to get there, I need to buy an expensive plane ticket.
I don't know how much it costs to get a plane ticket to mainland Europe, I only need to get to the coast, or even just to Britain and then I can get across the channel, in any case I've only got a few hundred...€237 to be precise. I don't think that's enough to get a plane ticket, not a last minute one at least which I'd need if I didn't want my ticket to unravel before I even got on board.
I need a way to get some money. Stealing! The victim wouldn't remember me a few moments after I took the money. I'm like the Silence from Doctor Who, that's kinda awesome. And the money would slowly ravel its way back to the owner and they wouldn't even know they were stolen from. It's a win-win, I'd win 'cause I get extra money, and they'd win 'cause they wouldn't lose any. No harm, no foul. No consequences!
Now I just need an opportunity. Time to take a stroll and see what shops have left their cash registers momentarily unattended.
-Shady
Tuesday 16 October 2012
I Believe the Term is 'Runner'
-Someone or something that runs. Duh.
Or, in this case: Someone who runs from Fears.
I now fall under this title. Mainly because I now run a lot. I run as far as I can for most of the day, getting whatever transport I can afford while still rationing what money I have. It's disappearing rapidly, both spending and unraveling, a couple of the stuff from my bag have already gone. I've also decided to start labeling my posts, in case there happens to be anyone searching the blogs for Runners to miraculously save and I miss out (-is that even how labels work?).
I'm not exactly at peek physical condition (all this running will help fix that) and I can't get very far everyday. At least not on foot. I bought a bus-ticket to Dublin, it wasn't an eventful journey, thank the Lord. I slept for most of the trip, public transport is my favourite place to sleep:
Or, in this case: Someone who runs from Fears.
I now fall under this title. Mainly because I now run a lot. I run as far as I can for most of the day, getting whatever transport I can afford while still rationing what money I have. It's disappearing rapidly, both spending and unraveling, a couple of the stuff from my bag have already gone. I've also decided to start labeling my posts, in case there happens to be anyone searching the blogs for Runners to miraculously save and I miss out (-is that even how labels work?).
I'm not exactly at peek physical condition (all this running will help fix that) and I can't get very far everyday. At least not on foot. I bought a bus-ticket to Dublin, it wasn't an eventful journey, thank the Lord. I slept for most of the trip, public transport is my favourite place to sleep:
- It's crowded, so if something creepy happens there will be plenty of warning, depending on creepiness - by screaming. This may awaken me if I'm asleep.
- It's one of the few crowded places it's socially acceptable to sleep. Even in my highly forgettable state I'd prefer not to raise any suspicion, trying to sleep in, say, a restaurant, may do this.
- I can move while sleeping at the same time. It's like an extension of my new occupation as 'Runner', I can stay on the run while sleeping, killing two Convocation-birds with one stone.
I'm now staying at a Dublin motel, no further sightings of abnormal entities (Hooded Stalker Freak, Slenderman, THE FROST, THE RIPPER etc.) but it'll be a long time before I can even begin to think that I may be able to perhaps relax...slightly.
How many are there out there? The Runners. How many people are running? Where are they? Do we have any hope?
-Shady
Monday 15 October 2012
And So, the Mystery Continues
I ran. I took my bag and ran for it. Little hope to escape but maybe I can slow It down somehow, maybe if I can run far and fast enough THE HUNGERING will have to move to catch up. Just to slow down my inevitable demise. Maybe I can avert these plans S spoke of, I don't trust him, that doesn't mean I don't believe him, if THE HUNGERING does have plans as he said, then odds are they're not good, if there's a chance to stop them, then maybe I can go out of this world in some heroic fashion like an idiot.
I wasn't on the road 5 minutes before he appeared again. The Hooded Stalker Freak. I was running down the street when he collided with me, slamming me into a wall. I slumped down and he punched me square in the nose and blood immediately began pumping from it. I managed to scramble to my feet, swinging my bag at his head, it wasn't particularly hard but I managed to gather enough force to daze him for a moment. I sprinted down the path, as fast as my legs could carry me, grabbing a shirt from my bag as I ran and pushed it to my nose. But he was faster. He tackled me and I skid across the ground, scraping myself in multiple locations. I rolled over and started kicking and punching and flailing out at my attacker while he struck me several times in my chest and stomach. A kick landed in his face, sending him back upright, his hood falling back...
His face was just the sort of creepy shit I was expecting. His eyes were cut and ripped open, his cheeks mangled and burnt, and his mouth was stitched shut. His hair was scraggled and shockingly white. He gazed at my look of shock and horror with an expression that could be described as a smile at a stretch. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a long knife. I backed away, still on my back, as he walked calmly towards me.
Then things got creepier. My ears were filled with a screeching sound, like a broken radio, my vision was blurred over, segments of my eyesight blurring and spreading and shrinking across my field of vision. A twig snapped in a nearby lightly wooded area, somehow resounding over the piercing screech. A faceless visage gazed out of the trees.
- Slenderman - Pain - Blood - Trees - Running - FATHER - Thud!
I awoke in a ditch, covered in mud and blood, most, if not all, of the blood my own, a large wound ran down the side of my stomach, stitched up. My bag lay a small way away. I rose, retrieved it, and wandered from the scene. I bought a room at a nearby motel, the guy who gave me the key didn't give me a second glance, I just gave him some of my parents' money and he gave me the key, not questioning my age or why I was covered in blood. I guess being forgotten has its advantages. I "re-raveled" the short story to avoid time-lapsing and went to sleep. Whatever happened, a lot happened, and I was still exhausted.
No answers, more questions. Oh, joy.
-Shady
I wasn't on the road 5 minutes before he appeared again. The Hooded Stalker Freak. I was running down the street when he collided with me, slamming me into a wall. I slumped down and he punched me square in the nose and blood immediately began pumping from it. I managed to scramble to my feet, swinging my bag at his head, it wasn't particularly hard but I managed to gather enough force to daze him for a moment. I sprinted down the path, as fast as my legs could carry me, grabbing a shirt from my bag as I ran and pushed it to my nose. But he was faster. He tackled me and I skid across the ground, scraping myself in multiple locations. I rolled over and started kicking and punching and flailing out at my attacker while he struck me several times in my chest and stomach. A kick landed in his face, sending him back upright, his hood falling back...
His face was just the sort of creepy shit I was expecting. His eyes were cut and ripped open, his cheeks mangled and burnt, and his mouth was stitched shut. His hair was scraggled and shockingly white. He gazed at my look of shock and horror with an expression that could be described as a smile at a stretch. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a long knife. I backed away, still on my back, as he walked calmly towards me.
Then things got creepier. My ears were filled with a screeching sound, like a broken radio, my vision was blurred over, segments of my eyesight blurring and spreading and shrinking across my field of vision. A twig snapped in a nearby lightly wooded area, somehow resounding over the piercing screech. A faceless visage gazed out of the trees.
- Slenderman - Pain - Blood - Trees - Running - FATHER - Thud!
I awoke in a ditch, covered in mud and blood, most, if not all, of the blood my own, a large wound ran down the side of my stomach, stitched up. My bag lay a small way away. I rose, retrieved it, and wandered from the scene. I bought a room at a nearby motel, the guy who gave me the key didn't give me a second glance, I just gave him some of my parents' money and he gave me the key, not questioning my age or why I was covered in blood. I guess being forgotten has its advantages. I "re-raveled" the short story to avoid time-lapsing and went to sleep. Whatever happened, a lot happened, and I was still exhausted.
No answers, more questions. Oh, joy.
-Shady
Friday 12 October 2012
Anachrophobia
-The fear of temporal displacement; from a Doctor Who novel of the same name.
That should explain why it is I did not post yesterday. Serious disorientation. Every hour, I skipped about two - four. Between them I was busy preparing for the running away. Every time my vision gets fucked up, everything going bright and blurry, I believe the term is "Seeing stars" but I don't think that gives it justice.
Imagine trying to find your way through a maze, a maze of those warped mirrors at fairs, lit by strobe-lighting! While being chased by Slenderman like one of those 'Slender' games! Pounding headache, blinding light, muscular...'giving up'. It wasn't like this yesterday, it's only getting worse. Every time it happens I grab my head and fall to the ground, my brain melting inside my skull and squeezing my eyes shut, opening them a few seconds/hours later.
I managed to stop it, thanks to Mr. Knight. I wrote a short story or poem kinda thing. I didn't think it would work but I did it anyway and I haven't Time-Lapsed in a few hours. It doesn't make THE HUNGERING back off, I don't think. I'd say it's more like: It's eating something that's regenerating itself. To get to me It has to get through everything I've ever done, if I create something It has to get through that to get to me, it gets erased but if I re-write it It has to eat it again and again. It's small, so it's already disappeared once, but that just means I can write it again quickly before anything drastic happens.
On to the preparing to leave, I've been preparing to leave. Packing up what little I have left in my rapidly shrinking life, grabbing some of my brothers clothes and as much money as I can find in the house (when everything I've ever done is erased all the stuff will return to their preset locations). You're probably thinking it won't matter, I can't run from THE HUNGERING, It's latched onto my mind and will stay there with me where ever I run.
That doesn't mean I can't try.
-Shady
That should explain why it is I did not post yesterday. Serious disorientation. Every hour, I skipped about two - four. Between them I was busy preparing for the running away. Every time my vision gets fucked up, everything going bright and blurry, I believe the term is "Seeing stars" but I don't think that gives it justice.
Imagine trying to find your way through a maze, a maze of those warped mirrors at fairs, lit by strobe-lighting! While being chased by Slenderman like one of those 'Slender' games! Pounding headache, blinding light, muscular...'giving up'. It wasn't like this yesterday, it's only getting worse. Every time it happens I grab my head and fall to the ground, my brain melting inside my skull and squeezing my eyes shut, opening them a few seconds/hours later.
I managed to stop it, thanks to Mr. Knight. I wrote a short story or poem kinda thing. I didn't think it would work but I did it anyway and I haven't Time-Lapsed in a few hours. It doesn't make THE HUNGERING back off, I don't think. I'd say it's more like: It's eating something that's regenerating itself. To get to me It has to get through everything I've ever done, if I create something It has to get through that to get to me, it gets erased but if I re-write it It has to eat it again and again. It's small, so it's already disappeared once, but that just means I can write it again quickly before anything drastic happens.
On to the preparing to leave, I've been preparing to leave. Packing up what little I have left in my rapidly shrinking life, grabbing some of my brothers clothes and as much money as I can find in the house (when everything I've ever done is erased all the stuff will return to their preset locations). You're probably thinking it won't matter, I can't run from THE HUNGERING, It's latched onto my mind and will stay there with me where ever I run.
That doesn't mean I can't try.
-Shady
Wednesday 10 October 2012
A Cry For Help
...Am alive. Just thought you'd all like to know. I must have passed out from the cold, which is odd because I seam to have taken the time to sign off "-Shady" at the end. I woke up in my room, where I've been laying unable to move for the past couple of hours. I don't know what happened, how I went from being frozen to death by THE FROST to being in my empty, abandoned room. The floorboards highly uncomfortable on my back.
There isn't much point of this post. There isn't much that I can do. THE HUNGERING is unraveling me; the Slenderman is...well, kind of inactive lately; THE FROST only recently appeared only to disappear for no reason I can see; and the Hooded Stalker Freak, I haven't seen him since that day he ran off, he's probably 'S' so may still be contacting me; the suspected THE RIPPER hasn't done anything since it compelled me into the forest.
I have no hope of surviving all these Fears. I don't even have a hope against THE HUNGERING alone. My unraveling is inevitable, as far as I know. I've been searching for any hope against THE HUNGERING. Does anyone know how? Does anyone know of any hope? Anyway to escape the unraveling? Anyway to escape THE HUNGERING after my unraveling?
Should I run? Is there any point? Should I just lay on these uncomfortable floorboards and relish the fact I can still feel?
-Shady
There isn't much point of this post. There isn't much that I can do. THE HUNGERING is unraveling me; the Slenderman is...well, kind of inactive lately; THE FROST only recently appeared only to disappear for no reason I can see; and the Hooded Stalker Freak, I haven't seen him since that day he ran off, he's probably 'S' so may still be contacting me; the suspected THE RIPPER hasn't done anything since it compelled me into the forest.
I have no hope of surviving all these Fears. I don't even have a hope against THE HUNGERING alone. My unraveling is inevitable, as far as I know. I've been searching for any hope against THE HUNGERING. Does anyone know how? Does anyone know of any hope? Anyway to escape the unraveling? Anyway to escape THE HUNGERING after my unraveling?
Should I run? Is there any point? Should I just lay on these uncomfortable floorboards and relish the fact I can still feel?
-Shady
No One
I don't know why exactly I went to school. No one here could remember me. But I did anyway. My friends' gazes glanced over me, I was a no one. A familiar face, unable to be placed. I wandered to class, trailing behind the rest of the pupils, sitting down in a seat by myself, no one noticed me. My name wasn't even on the role. Despite this my presence wasn't questioned, no one could recognize me but no one thought I was a stranger either. I wasn't supposed to be there yet I was, like a puzzle piece, fitting into another jigsaw, fitting perfectly yet not matching.
Then it happened. Everything went silent, Quiet. The noises dulled out, there yet un-perceivable, like how I must be to the others. My vision hazed and my mind zoned out, like a daydream without the dream. I snapped out of it to find my classroom empty, it was later, the clock read 2:30, school is over at 1:00 on Wednesdays and it was the first class of the day. My mind had skipped a beat, I must have blacked out. Nobody took notice of me, they must have just walked out of the room, went on about their lives and left. While I was no where.
I'm still here in the classroom, figured this was worth noting so I'm updating this blog. I'm coming up with theories as to what happened. The leading one seams to be that I'm experiencing lost time. THE HUNGERING is consuming me, It takes things out of reality, both time and space. I'm being removed from time, thus the time-lapse.
The school is eerie with no one there. I hear distant buzzing as the cleaning staff finish their rounds of the school. Most of the teachers have left by now, there may be one or two in their offices. I can do nothing now so I just walk slowly through the halls. Gradually towards the exit.
It's extremely cold. It doesn't help that I forgot my jumper at home (or maybe it's just 'gone') so I'm just in my shirt and jacket (they were in the wash, apparently that helps?). Dear God it's cold! My fingers can barely write anymore. The windows haue frnsted over, i cant writ propery. its te coldboy. hes ther infron ome the blnod hs freeying in my vehns. cold, so cold. I...
-Shady
Then it happened. Everything went silent, Quiet. The noises dulled out, there yet un-perceivable, like how I must be to the others. My vision hazed and my mind zoned out, like a daydream without the dream. I snapped out of it to find my classroom empty, it was later, the clock read 2:30, school is over at 1:00 on Wednesdays and it was the first class of the day. My mind had skipped a beat, I must have blacked out. Nobody took notice of me, they must have just walked out of the room, went on about their lives and left. While I was no where.
I'm still here in the classroom, figured this was worth noting so I'm updating this blog. I'm coming up with theories as to what happened. The leading one seams to be that I'm experiencing lost time. THE HUNGERING is consuming me, It takes things out of reality, both time and space. I'm being removed from time, thus the time-lapse.
The school is eerie with no one there. I hear distant buzzing as the cleaning staff finish their rounds of the school. Most of the teachers have left by now, there may be one or two in their offices. I can do nothing now so I just walk slowly through the halls. Gradually towards the exit.
It's extremely cold. It doesn't help that I forgot my jumper at home (or maybe it's just 'gone') so I'm just in my shirt and jacket (they were in the wash, apparently that helps?). Dear God it's cold! My fingers can barely write anymore. The windows haue frnsted over, i cant writ propery. its te coldboy. hes ther infron ome the blnod hs freeying in my vehns. cold, so cold. I...
-Shady
Tuesday 9 October 2012
Where's My Life Gone?
I can't find it.
I'm home now, my parents brought me home from the hospital earlier today after no more symptoms were discovered. I stayed at the hospital over-night for observation, I was unconscious for no apparent reason after all. My parents drove me home from the hospital -after I reminded them of my name, that is! We drove home and went inside. My stuff is gone! My x-box, my books, TV, comics, video games, DVDs, computer, clothes and my bed! All my stuff, just gone! Everything is gone! Probably the only reason I still have my phone is because I had it with me. However that's supposed to work.
My parents couldn't help me, they seamed confused, distant, vacant, they barely spoke at all. They told me to sleep on the couch tonight. They 'introduced' me to my own sister, my elder sister, who seamed to be unable to properly place me, before leaving the house to go out for dinner. They seamed completely detached from me, they only came to the hospital a few hours after I woke and told the doctor who I was and he called them, they barely spoke two words to me while they were there (not even to ask me why I had left the house), and then they left me at home minutes after they brought me home from the hospital. I'm on the lookout for the Cold Boy as well, now.
Now I'm just laying here. On the floor of my once-bedroom. Stripped bare of everything I once had. I'm certain it's The Quiet now, Mr. Knight, the entity known as Nobody which I presume you were hinting to may be able to effect memories and relationships and all the social and psychological aspects of my life, but it can't steal my physical possessions. The Quiet however, can. If I never existed then I can never have owned any of those things. They were never purchased/kept for/by me. They're not just gone now, they were never there in the first place.
I don't know what to do. My life is literally coming apart at the seams. I have no way to fight. THE HUNGERING is taking me.
-Shady
I'm home now, my parents brought me home from the hospital earlier today after no more symptoms were discovered. I stayed at the hospital over-night for observation, I was unconscious for no apparent reason after all. My parents drove me home from the hospital -after I reminded them of my name, that is! We drove home and went inside. My stuff is gone! My x-box, my books, TV, comics, video games, DVDs, computer, clothes and my bed! All my stuff, just gone! Everything is gone! Probably the only reason I still have my phone is because I had it with me. However that's supposed to work.
My parents couldn't help me, they seamed confused, distant, vacant, they barely spoke at all. They told me to sleep on the couch tonight. They 'introduced' me to my own sister, my elder sister, who seamed to be unable to properly place me, before leaving the house to go out for dinner. They seamed completely detached from me, they only came to the hospital a few hours after I woke and told the doctor who I was and he called them, they barely spoke two words to me while they were there (not even to ask me why I had left the house), and then they left me at home minutes after they brought me home from the hospital. I'm on the lookout for the Cold Boy as well, now.
Now I'm just laying here. On the floor of my once-bedroom. Stripped bare of everything I once had. I'm certain it's The Quiet now, Mr. Knight, the entity known as Nobody which I presume you were hinting to may be able to effect memories and relationships and all the social and psychological aspects of my life, but it can't steal my physical possessions. The Quiet however, can. If I never existed then I can never have owned any of those things. They were never purchased/kept for/by me. They're not just gone now, they were never there in the first place.
I don't know what to do. My life is literally coming apart at the seams. I have no way to fight. THE HUNGERING is taking me.
-Shady
Monday 8 October 2012
Beep...Beep...Beep...
BEEP! That's bloody annoying. I'm in a hospital now apparently, hooked to a heart monitor, a really annoying heart monitor. I don't remember what happened last night after my last post, I remember a vague shape that could very well have been Slenderman, I'm gonna presume it was from the picture I saw and the comment. By the way, mister S(lenderproxy), your poem sucked! Seriously.
The doctor said I was found unconscious at the side of a road, apparently I got away from Slenderman somehow. I was taken to a hospital where I remained unconscious until about an hour or so ago. I told the doctor what happened -Leaving out the Slenderman part- and he told me where I was found. They can't find anything wrong with me, I have bruising on my body but they said that was from a fall, that is when I reached the side if the road I fell over onto the concrete, right on my face. It kinda aches now, but I'm mostly fine. Nothing to explain the memory loss or unconsciousness though, nothing medical at least, I know it's not medical though.
A nurse came in with an elderly patient on a wheelchair.
"Oh sorry, I thought this room was empty," she had said, before leaving.
Now nothing wrong with that, nothing strange, people forget things. What is strange is that that was the 2nd nurse to do that, and 5th time! Why do people keep forgetting me? Doctor came back in, he seamed surprised to see me, he walked to the chart at the end of the bed, reading over it. He was in about his 40s and had black, graying hair and a white doctor-coat.
"So, conscious now I see. How are you feeling?" he had walked up to me, checking my heart with that stethoscope thingy all doctors seam to wear.
"...fine," I nodded. He had already seen me after I was awake, why was he asking?
"Good good. Care to tell me what happened last night?" he had asked. I'd already told him!
"I already told you..." I had said, confusedly, something was wrong, had he forgotten me too?!
"Oh?" he had checked a small notepad he had with him. "Ah yes. Strange, I don't remember that. Well this all seams fine," he continued, reading over the notepad. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yes," I replied, "The aching's gone down."
"Good good. I should...go now," he looked confused also, he was trying to remember something he couldn't. Me.
I don't know what's happening. People can't remember me. Is it Slenderman? Is he erasing me from people's memories? Maybe, I don't know. I was thinking, what if it's The Quiet? It can take things out of reality, It usually destroys universes but maybe It's going for a smaller target this time. But why? What would It have to gain from removing ME from the time-space continuum? What have I done/am doing/will do that would warrant The Quiet deciding the 'unravel' me. That is if It can decide, It's non-existent after all. In which case what have I done/am doing/will do that would cause my 'unraveling'?
I'm going to bury my face in my pillow. While I still have a face to bury.
-Shady
The doctor said I was found unconscious at the side of a road, apparently I got away from Slenderman somehow. I was taken to a hospital where I remained unconscious until about an hour or so ago. I told the doctor what happened -Leaving out the Slenderman part- and he told me where I was found. They can't find anything wrong with me, I have bruising on my body but they said that was from a fall, that is when I reached the side if the road I fell over onto the concrete, right on my face. It kinda aches now, but I'm mostly fine. Nothing to explain the memory loss or unconsciousness though, nothing medical at least, I know it's not medical though.
A nurse came in with an elderly patient on a wheelchair.
"Oh sorry, I thought this room was empty," she had said, before leaving.
Now nothing wrong with that, nothing strange, people forget things. What is strange is that that was the 2nd nurse to do that, and 5th time! Why do people keep forgetting me? Doctor came back in, he seamed surprised to see me, he walked to the chart at the end of the bed, reading over it. He was in about his 40s and had black, graying hair and a white doctor-coat.
"So, conscious now I see. How are you feeling?" he had walked up to me, checking my heart with that stethoscope thingy all doctors seam to wear.
"...fine," I nodded. He had already seen me after I was awake, why was he asking?
"Good good. Care to tell me what happened last night?" he had asked. I'd already told him!
"I already told you..." I had said, confusedly, something was wrong, had he forgotten me too?!
"Oh?" he had checked a small notepad he had with him. "Ah yes. Strange, I don't remember that. Well this all seams fine," he continued, reading over the notepad. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yes," I replied, "The aching's gone down."
"Good good. I should...go now," he looked confused also, he was trying to remember something he couldn't. Me.
I don't know what's happening. People can't remember me. Is it Slenderman? Is he erasing me from people's memories? Maybe, I don't know. I was thinking, what if it's The Quiet? It can take things out of reality, It usually destroys universes but maybe It's going for a smaller target this time. But why? What would It have to gain from removing ME from the time-space continuum? What have I done/am doing/will do that would warrant The Quiet deciding the 'unravel' me. That is if It can decide, It's non-existent after all. In which case what have I done/am doing/will do that would cause my 'unraveling'?
I'm going to bury my face in my pillow. While I still have a face to bury.
-Shady
Sunday 7 October 2012
Oh Dear God, Why?!
Why?! Why did I do it?! What gave me the thought that it would be a good idea?! It doesn't make any sense! Why did I walk into the middle of a big, dark forest in the middle of the night?! It was the Rake, wasn't it?! The Rake mind-fucked me into doing it! Now I'm in a forest, I don't know how I got here. Well I do, I remember leaving the house, walking to the forest, walking through the forest, I remember thinking it was a 'great' idea for some reason! But my mind was phased over, unclear. Then I realised what an unbelievably horrible idea this was, I'm using my phone for light and figured I could update my blog, telling everyone how idiotic I've been for reasons unknown.
Fuck. This is just like that game 'Slender'! Seriously! Except I've just got a phone for light. Lots of trees, can't find my way anywhere. Can't see two metres in front of me. Just my phone and the moonlight. No stars. Trees, trees, trees, trees, trees, trees, trees, oh wait, what's that? Another tree! That was totally unexpected!
FUCK!!! Slenderman is clearly fucking proud of himself that he got his own fuckin' video game. He's drawn a picture of himself and stuck it to a tree, just like in the fucking game. It's signed: 'S'. I presume that stands for Slenderman. Probably got his proxy to do it, Slenderman's probably a better artist with all those fingers and hands.
Running Running Running! Heard twig snap! Massive horror movie cliche! Still! Running Running Running!
Can't run anymore...still just trees...no sign of getting out of this place anytime soon...I think I got away from the Twig Snapper...what now...what do I do? Run! It's...too...difficult...out of breath...
Noise...can't identify it...blank noise...something's there...somethinauvtgvfiy
Fuck. This is just like that game 'Slender'! Seriously! Except I've just got a phone for light. Lots of trees, can't find my way anywhere. Can't see two metres in front of me. Just my phone and the moonlight. No stars. Trees, trees, trees, trees, trees, trees, trees, oh wait, what's that? Another tree! That was totally unexpected!
FUCK!!! Slenderman is clearly fucking proud of himself that he got his own fuckin' video game. He's drawn a picture of himself and stuck it to a tree, just like in the fucking game. It's signed: 'S'. I presume that stands for Slenderman. Probably got his proxy to do it, Slenderman's probably a better artist with all those fingers and hands.
Running Running Running! Heard twig snap! Massive horror movie cliche! Still! Running Running Running!
Can't run anymore...still just trees...no sign of getting out of this place anytime soon...I think I got away from the Twig Snapper...what now...what do I do? Run! It's...too...difficult...out of breath...
Noise...can't identify it...blank noise...something's there...somethinauvtgvfiy
There he is Again!
He's right there, around the corner, standing in the exact same spot I saw him the first two times. Fortunately I ducked into a nearby alley, he's still standing there, staring at the other side of the street. He's only a few metres away! The closest I've been since I found out he's been stalking me, and the closest he's been since he would know I know. He has to know by now! He probably reads this blog, wouldn't be much of a stalker otherwise.
Oh God! He's gone, I looked away for half a second and now he's gone, where is he?! Where isutcglatyik
Running Running Running! He was there! Right in front of me! Then he was gone again! Running Running Running!
Home!
Now that I'm at the relative safety of my house, perhaps a little more detail. I had looked around the corner at where he was supposed to be and he was gone, I turned back to leaning against the alley wall to write that he was gone, I got through a sentence, looked up, there he was. Standing in front of me, I could feel the gaze of his eyes through the impenetrable shadows that covered his face, or perhaps lack there-of. I couldn't even begin to guess what pathetic excuse of a face lurked behind that wall of solid darkness.
I could almost feel his brow furrowing in confusion, his head quickly whipped to the end of the alley as if he had heard a noise (I hadn't), he stared at the end of the alley and began to back away, as if something was scaring him. I blank, he was gone, I ran.
So, now I'm really confused. Something scared him off, that could be one of two things:
1) Something so good it scares off creepy stuff like him,
2) Something so bad it scares off creepy stuff like him.
Personally, I'm routing for number 1.
Now, I also have something new to add to the "Freaky" List. Last night, as I lay in bed trying to get to sleep, I heard whispers. Seriously, whispers, no idea of what it was saying, I don't think it was in English. Maybe the Hooded Stalker Freak was in my house trying to creep me out more. I really don't like that idea.
Fear Theory Update:
The Choir is known to whisper to people, they really enjoy making noise and making people think they've heard one thing while something else was said.
The Rake has been known to whisper to people during the night, its been said that it can use the whispers for psychic manipulation.
Still no confirmation on what's going on. Suggestions always welcome.
-Shady
Saturday 6 October 2012
Add it to the List
Update: New Freaky Stuff!
So, went to the cinema with my friends, saw that new movie 'Looper.' It was good, but that's not what I'm here to talk about. Something freaky happened there, and it wasn't even the Hooded Stalker. My best friend, whom I've known for years, couldn't remember my name!
I arrived, he said, "Hello...um...uhhhh...(that went on for a few seconds)...what's your name?"
"Yeah, come on, the movie's already started." I figured he was joking, as you would.
"No, seriously. This is so weird! I can't remember your name." He certainly sounded serious.
"...Paul." I informed him, condescendingly.
"Yes! Paul! That's it! That was really weird, I actually couldn't remember your name...weird."
We went in, watched the movie, my mind was on the abnormal memory loss of my best friend, just as other freaky stuff started happening. It was also the fact that it was specifically me whose name he couldn't remember, the same guy being stalked. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but you try to not be paranoid while being stalked!
Now this simply adds psychic powers to the list, which can be added to any theory other than Boring, which I didn't really have high hopes for, 'cause he disappeared far too fast. Now, this really removes the Archangel possibility from the Fear Theory, he hasn't be known to cause any form of memory loss. Slenderman has a whole range of psychic-mind-raping abilities that may account for it, which doesn't really make me feel any better. Following the Fear Theory, the Blind Man is related to memory loss, thus he may be responsible, the Hooded Stalker Freak being a Gifted or Archivist. But then again, I'm the one being targeted, not my friend.
Whatever this THING is up to, it seams to be interested in more than just stalking me.
-Shady
So, went to the cinema with my friends, saw that new movie 'Looper.' It was good, but that's not what I'm here to talk about. Something freaky happened there, and it wasn't even the Hooded Stalker. My best friend, whom I've known for years, couldn't remember my name!
I arrived, he said, "Hello...um...uhhhh...(that went on for a few seconds)...what's your name?"
"Yeah, come on, the movie's already started." I figured he was joking, as you would.
"No, seriously. This is so weird! I can't remember your name." He certainly sounded serious.
"...Paul." I informed him, condescendingly.
"Yes! Paul! That's it! That was really weird, I actually couldn't remember your name...weird."
We went in, watched the movie, my mind was on the abnormal memory loss of my best friend, just as other freaky stuff started happening. It was also the fact that it was specifically me whose name he couldn't remember, the same guy being stalked. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but you try to not be paranoid while being stalked!
Now this simply adds psychic powers to the list, which can be added to any theory other than Boring, which I didn't really have high hopes for, 'cause he disappeared far too fast. Now, this really removes the Archangel possibility from the Fear Theory, he hasn't be known to cause any form of memory loss. Slenderman has a whole range of psychic-mind-raping abilities that may account for it, which doesn't really make me feel any better. Following the Fear Theory, the Blind Man is related to memory loss, thus he may be responsible, the Hooded Stalker Freak being a Gifted or Archivist. But then again, I'm the one being targeted, not my friend.
Whatever this THING is up to, it seams to be interested in more than just stalking me.
-Shady
Let's Think
Firstly, thank you to Proxiehunter for being the only commentor on my last post. There have been no further sightings so I'm going to use this post for research. I have my own theories that I suppose I'll have to work out on my own, I'd appreciate any feedback on them.
1. Wizards: He's magic! Not much to say here really. He's some sort of dark-magic user/satanist who uses his dark-magic/satanism to jump around and creep out innocent teenagers.
2. Aliens: He's an alien! Perhaps camouflage of some variety to suddenly disappear; or physically allowing light to pass through, ie. Invisibility; or even spontaneous teleportation through advanced technological means. A humanoid or shape-shifting alien, based on shape, although humanoid may explain why he(it) refuses to show its face or any part of its skin.
3. The Government: The Irish government isn't exactly as well known for its conspiracies, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have secrets, or even that this thing isn't from another country that may be doing this stuff more often. He(it)'s some form of genetic experiment, allowing it to (much the same as alien theory) camouflage, turn invisible or teleport from one location to another.
4. Monsters: It's some form of supernatural entity which uses similar dark-magic to wizard theory to turn invisible or teleport. This ties in with a sub-theory, courtesy of Proxiehunter:
To those of you who don't know about the Slenderman, he's a supernatural entity who either takes the form or is the form of a freakishly tall, 'slender man' with a business suit and no face. He pops in and out of our universe to stalk children, teenagers or adults who saw him as a child. He stalks them, psychologically torturing them for an unspecified amount of time before finally taking them away to where ever it is he takes them. Slenderman has psychic powers which he may use to seize control of individuals and make them his servants -or proxies.
Now, one must uncover which 'universe' this possible Slenderman is operating. Slenderverse or Fear Mythos. I'd like to know if I'm liable to meet HABIT or the Archangel or whatever else there is out there. This will also help determine the likelihood of it being Slenderman or another Fear, as Slenderman has a much more prominent role in the Slenderverse, as the name suggests.
In the Fear Mythos there are other possibilities for my stalker. The hoodie could be the Archangel, although he tends to wear a gas-mask, but that's hardly certain (no canon!). Also, there exists multiple other forms of 'Proxies' in the Fear Universe that may be responsible. Apostles, Oathbreakers, Nests, Dolls, etc.
Then of course there's theory number 5
5. Boring: He's a stalker who likes hoodies, the colour black and creeping teenagers, and can run really fast!
-Shady
1. Wizards: He's magic! Not much to say here really. He's some sort of dark-magic user/satanist who uses his dark-magic/satanism to jump around and creep out innocent teenagers.
2. Aliens: He's an alien! Perhaps camouflage of some variety to suddenly disappear; or physically allowing light to pass through, ie. Invisibility; or even spontaneous teleportation through advanced technological means. A humanoid or shape-shifting alien, based on shape, although humanoid may explain why he(it) refuses to show its face or any part of its skin.
3. The Government: The Irish government isn't exactly as well known for its conspiracies, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have secrets, or even that this thing isn't from another country that may be doing this stuff more often. He(it)'s some form of genetic experiment, allowing it to (much the same as alien theory) camouflage, turn invisible or teleport from one location to another.
4. Monsters: It's some form of supernatural entity which uses similar dark-magic to wizard theory to turn invisible or teleport. This ties in with a sub-theory, courtesy of Proxiehunter:
- Slender and Friends
To those of you who don't know about the Slenderman, he's a supernatural entity who either takes the form or is the form of a freakishly tall, 'slender man' with a business suit and no face. He pops in and out of our universe to stalk children, teenagers or adults who saw him as a child. He stalks them, psychologically torturing them for an unspecified amount of time before finally taking them away to where ever it is he takes them. Slenderman has psychic powers which he may use to seize control of individuals and make them his servants -or proxies.
Now, one must uncover which 'universe' this possible Slenderman is operating. Slenderverse or Fear Mythos. I'd like to know if I'm liable to meet HABIT or the Archangel or whatever else there is out there. This will also help determine the likelihood of it being Slenderman or another Fear, as Slenderman has a much more prominent role in the Slenderverse, as the name suggests.
In the Fear Mythos there are other possibilities for my stalker. The hoodie could be the Archangel, although he tends to wear a gas-mask, but that's hardly certain (no canon!). Also, there exists multiple other forms of 'Proxies' in the Fear Universe that may be responsible. Apostles, Oathbreakers, Nests, Dolls, etc.
Then of course there's theory number 5
5. Boring: He's a stalker who likes hoodies, the colour black and creeping teenagers, and can run really fast!
-Shady
Friday 5 October 2012
Close Encounters of the Freaky Kind
The title
of the post sums it up rather well. I’ve been seeing some fairly freaky stuff
over the past week, and when I say ‘some’, I mean one thing, but repeated. That
would be this guy I keep seeing around the place; or as my friends and I like
to call him: The Hooded Stalker Freak! First off, sorry about the long post, I
have to catch everyone up first.
I started
seeing him last week, on my way home from the local shop, he just stood there
at the side of the road, he didn't even seam to be looking at me, I couldn't even see his face under his hoodie, I didn't know they were that effective at
casting shadows. I walked on, nothing particularly unusual about a guy in a
hoodie looking menacing.
Next off,
the day after, same time, same place, he was just standing there, his hands in
the pockets of his pitch-black hoodie, blending with the same pitch-black of
his trousers and guess what colours his shoes were. –he continues this colour
theme throughout our encounters. I passed him by again, except this time I gave
him a second glance, recalling him from the first time. As I looked back at him
his head turned towards me and he just stared at me. I quickly turned away and
just continued on home, glancing occasionally over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't following me, I don’t usually expect people to start following me
whenever they look at me, but something about his stare gave me the chills…and
I couldn't even see his face!
The day after
the day after: The Third Encounter. At school, out in the yard, me and my
friends having friendly chat about…whatever it is I don’t remember, not
important. Bam! I look over; there he is, standing on the nearby grass. I point
him out to my friends and they said not to worry, “probably just a serial
killer.” They’re so helpful. He moved this time, after a few seconds staring
forwards at seemingly empty space near to us, he turned and walked away.
Again, the
next day, the creepiest encounter: Outside my freakin’ house! Night-time, for
added creepiness, I was just walking up and down the hall, thinking about
stuff, I look out the window, BAM!!! There he was! Creepy as ever! Just looking
at my house, again, not looking at me, just looking dead ahead at the wall of
my house. I was proper terrified now! I mean, wouldn't you be? Some guy in a
hoodie is actually following me! What he did next didn't help, he left. No, not
left, he disappeared! I blank (that is –I blinked) and he wasn't there anymore. Now I'm not a worrisome fellow, so I tried not to think about it, but still. Freaky.
Finally,
yesterday’s encounter, at school again, I was telling my friends about what had
happened the night before and he appeared. He was pretty far off, but I was
certain it was him. I pointed him out to my friends, they said, “Oh, it’s the Hooded
Stalker Freak!” (hence name) He was too far off to really do anything, hardly
made me feel safer. Especially when he disappeared again after I blank, my
friends had momentarily looked away and thus did not see what had happened to
him but they knew how short a time they had looked way for and that there wasn't really anywhere to hide near to where he was standing.
You’re
probably wondering what the purpose of the post is. I need answers. So all you
conspiracy theorists out there, give me your best shot! Aliens, wizards, the
government?! How is it that this guy can disappear in –literally- the blink of
an eye?
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