By now you've probably come to the fairly obvious conclusion that I am currently a host to a fragment of THE DECAY. You're probably thinking: "How could you be a host to THE DECAY, you're not even decaying!" Well, I asked this very same question.
"It's weak," replied Analyst Beta through the intercom as I sat in the quarantine area, the white walls making it look more like an Insane Asylum, "The weakest fragment I've ever seen, or heard of. It doesn't seems capable of exerting much control over you or effecting your body to any significant degree."
"So, is the fragment why I was blacking out? When I encountered THE FROST and Master Nowhere, and maybe Slenderman, though I'd probably put that up to just being Slenderman."
"No, not as far as we can tell. When a fragment takes control it shows signs, altered brain waves, bodily decay, no signs of it ever having taken control are present."
"So there's still something else weird about me. Great." I muttered, the relief of knowing what's wrong with me rapidly fading, "Any ideas how this makes me important to Master Nowhere and the "non-existent" Nevermore Accord, because trust me, being non-existent doesn't make you not real." I laughed slightly.
"No idea. Some larger fragments seek to absorb other weaker ones into them, but this one is hardly worth all the effort Master Nowhere and the other PRE's are putting into finding you," he replied, "Meanwhile, the Nevermore Accord remains unknown to all of our operatives and databases."
"Have you tried asking...Him," I asked innocently, "You know, the man upstairs. Or downstairs, if you're talking geographically."
"The Grandfather? No. He usually doesn't give US information on other Fears and their operations, though I have filed a report to Archive Central. He's reads those for information, if He does have information he wishes to disclose, then He'll do so."
"And if He has information He doesn't wish to disclose? Sorry for being mistrusting, but He's still evil," I said, hoping there wouldn't be any repercussions for saying it in the presence of an Archivist.
"If He doesn't wish to disclose information, He won't," he said, I could see him packing up his things through the observation window, "And whether you believe He's evil or not, He's our Grandfather."
With that he left, leaving me alone in the quarantine chamber. I played some space invaders and read some Fear Blogs to pass the time before going to sleep. They put me in here when they discovered THE DECAY was inside me, they're keeping me for observation until later today when they're sure the fragment is too weak to gain control.
Scribe Theta came in a while ago, with an expression of confusion and worry.
"What's wrong?" I asked, pressing the button for communication.
"The files, on Master Nowhere, they're gone," he said, "Archive Central reported a complete absence of his mention in their entire database. The same happened to the report on the Nevermore Accord, Archive Central denies ever receiving them. Something's wrong, because they reported receipt of them yesterday!"
"What does this mean?"
"I don't know, but someone, or something has completely removed the files from the entire Archive network! No one can do that, we have the best computer security system on the planet!"
"Clearly someone can do it," I replied, "And if anyone could do that, they'd have to be in the Archive."
"Exactly," he replied, "We have a spy. The Keepers are going nuts!" He paced back and forth for a moment, "That's not all," he finally said, before pressing a button in the observation room and calling for someone by the name of Infiltrator Gamma. Infiltrators are a special brand of Collectors who infiltrate other Fear groups for information. A couple seconds later the door to quarantine opened and a man with light brown hair and beard enters, IΓ sown onto his shirt. He was flanked by two keepers.
He held two tape recorders and set them both on my table. "This is the call made to the Timberwolves, the source of their information about your train." came Theta's voice, "And the other is OUR contact about it."
Gamma pressed both buttons simultaneously and the same voice came over both. Master Nowhere.
"Are you sure it's him?" asked Theta. "Of course, his voice was in my head," I snapped, "I'd know it any where. Wh- why would he be contacting both organisations about me?"
"We don't know," he replied, "We'll look into it."
They all left, with the two tape recorders, leaving me with my thoughts and a massive conspiracy.
-Shady
Showing posts with label THE DECAY. Show all posts
Showing posts with label THE DECAY. Show all posts
Sunday, 4 November 2012
Friday, 2 November 2012
Dying Man
I was the only one there when my grandfather died, my grandmother had passed away years before. I went to visit my grandfather with my parents every month, 2nd Thursday, January to December, each year. So long ago now. We'd go out and play games, childish games. I'd hide in the woods and he'd lurk around after me, searching for me and inevitably finding me, hiding in the hollow of an old oak tree. It was once so vibrant, the tree, leaves covering the thing most of the year. Somehow it never lost its leaves in Winter, sure they'd discolour, its discarded foliage littering the ground of the clearing where it resided, transforming it to gold and brown. But its branches always looked so full.
But each year a little more leaves would be lost, a little more green would fade, a little less leaves would return when Spring dawned. Each year, the tree would die a little more, and my grandfather would do the same. He grew older, of course he did, but I was young, I knew these things happened but not why. I simply couldn't understand why every time I visited he'd walk a little slower, he'd cough a little more, his eyes would sink a little deeper.
The oak tree had no leaves last time I visited, it hadn't all year, it had aged so fast. Trees were supposed to last hundreds of years. They're supposed to take years and years to die, not a few months. Why didn't it work the same for humans? This time it did, but not the way one would want. The tree was gnarled, the bark damp and black. And my grandfather was barely able to walk after me through the woods, I fled into the damp hollow of the dying tree, containing my laughter, believing as I always did that this time he'd never find me. He never did.
His legs passed by the small hollow, where my young body was huddled, my knees pressed to my chest to conceal myself within. He had stopped outside, the sound of his hand coming to rest on the bark of the tree with a soft thud above me. He dropped to his knees, before his torso flopped over to rest on the lifeless soil, his hand clutching a clump of shirt just over his chest. I crawled out slowly, thinking he must have slipped, or tripped. It couldn't have been anything more serious.
He had done it. He had taken as long as a tree to die, but the tree was dead now too. I grabbed his hand, and he grabbed it back, he wasn't a dead man, simply a dying man. He pulled me closer, trying to pull his head towards me but unable. He simply whispered to me where he lay, whispered his dying words, words I'd file away in my sub-conscious, unimportant and forgotten.
"Let me in."
-Shady
But each year a little more leaves would be lost, a little more green would fade, a little less leaves would return when Spring dawned. Each year, the tree would die a little more, and my grandfather would do the same. He grew older, of course he did, but I was young, I knew these things happened but not why. I simply couldn't understand why every time I visited he'd walk a little slower, he'd cough a little more, his eyes would sink a little deeper.
The oak tree had no leaves last time I visited, it hadn't all year, it had aged so fast. Trees were supposed to last hundreds of years. They're supposed to take years and years to die, not a few months. Why didn't it work the same for humans? This time it did, but not the way one would want. The tree was gnarled, the bark damp and black. And my grandfather was barely able to walk after me through the woods, I fled into the damp hollow of the dying tree, containing my laughter, believing as I always did that this time he'd never find me. He never did.
His legs passed by the small hollow, where my young body was huddled, my knees pressed to my chest to conceal myself within. He had stopped outside, the sound of his hand coming to rest on the bark of the tree with a soft thud above me. He dropped to his knees, before his torso flopped over to rest on the lifeless soil, his hand clutching a clump of shirt just over his chest. I crawled out slowly, thinking he must have slipped, or tripped. It couldn't have been anything more serious.
He had done it. He had taken as long as a tree to die, but the tree was dead now too. I grabbed his hand, and he grabbed it back, he wasn't a dead man, simply a dying man. He pulled me closer, trying to pull his head towards me but unable. He simply whispered to me where he lay, whispered his dying words, words I'd file away in my sub-conscious, unimportant and forgotten.
"Let me in."
-Shady
Thursday, 1 November 2012
Happy Late Halloween!
Sorry I didn't wish everyone a happy Halloween yesterday, thus, I have done it now.
Epsilon, Upsilon and I are in the car and on our way to Paris. Upsilon is very disgruntled, no reason I can see, just an angry man in general. He doesn't talk much, and most of what he says is grumbled under his breath angrily. I don't think he like me very much, I think he blames me for the Timberwolf trouble, which may or may not be my fault, but it's not like I asked for this. He also mistrusts me, due his primary suspicion that I have a Dying Man piece inside me, aka. the "something very special". This has crossed my mind too, but I'm not jumping to conclusions, especially as a fragment of THE DECAY tends to show signs of its presence by decaying the host body. I'm fine as far as I'm aware; apart from the arm wounds, bullet hole and minor burns. And the non-existence thing.
Epsilon on the other hand is very friendly and talkative, ignoring Upsilon's angry mumblings and is the source of most of the communication between I and the facts of the Archive. She told me about multiple other Fears, the few that I haven't encountered, from the Black Dog, to the Unnamed Child; and UXPs (Unexplained Phenomena -which I find an odd name seeing as the Fears are no more explained as a phenomena) such as Jack of All, and the Bleeding Tree.
Data can be found here at The Archive.
Not much else to report for the moment, shouldn't be too long more to Paris, we'll be stopping in another small town as a pit stop shortly. I'll keep you posted.
-Shady
Epsilon, Upsilon and I are in the car and on our way to Paris. Upsilon is very disgruntled, no reason I can see, just an angry man in general. He doesn't talk much, and most of what he says is grumbled under his breath angrily. I don't think he like me very much, I think he blames me for the Timberwolf trouble, which may or may not be my fault, but it's not like I asked for this. He also mistrusts me, due his primary suspicion that I have a Dying Man piece inside me, aka. the "something very special". This has crossed my mind too, but I'm not jumping to conclusions, especially as a fragment of THE DECAY tends to show signs of its presence by decaying the host body. I'm fine as far as I'm aware; apart from the arm wounds, bullet hole and minor burns. And the non-existence thing.
Epsilon on the other hand is very friendly and talkative, ignoring Upsilon's angry mumblings and is the source of most of the communication between I and the facts of the Archive. She told me about multiple other Fears, the few that I haven't encountered, from the Black Dog, to the Unnamed Child; and UXPs (Unexplained Phenomena -which I find an odd name seeing as the Fears are no more explained as a phenomena) such as Jack of All, and the Bleeding Tree.
Data can be found here at The Archive.
Not much else to report for the moment, shouldn't be too long more to Paris, we'll be stopping in another small town as a pit stop shortly. I'll keep you posted.
-Shady
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