Saturday, July 30, 2011

Newspaper

I did what Mystery suggested. I went out and combed the area for something written, any shred of evidence that my memories weren't completely false and fabricated. I didn't hold out much hope for finding anything. With all the hell that's been going on, I figured this would just be the next thing to worry over. Well, I was right and wrong at the same time.
It took several hours, a lot of subtly asked (I hope) questions and even more walking, but I finally found the old man I was looking for. He's been ancient for as long as I can remember, but his memory is as sharp as ever. He also has a serious obsession with newspapers, events, articles, books... Think of a pack rat and scholar combined then add in a mix of mad scientist, and you have this guy. If anyone knew or had anything about the day of the accident or the day my house burned it would be him.
When I finally found his home, I hesitated. I didn't want to bring him into this. Chances are, if someone is trying to keep me from figuring out the real story, they would follow me and...No. I don't want to think about it. I finally knocked though, because I had to know.
He let me in and offered some coffee, which I gladly accepted. Of course, he didn't recognize me. I wouldn't expect him to even if the world hadn't gone to hell. He was more my father's friend, and I stopped seeing him when I stopped seeing my father. Years and years ago. He's not much of a talker, never was. A very hospitable man, but not a talker, and especially not to strangers. So we got right down to the point. I told him I was looking for a lost friend, that I wanted to get back in touch with him. I asked about myself, and that's when the old man started looking worried and not a little bit afraid.

>>Look, kid, I'd love to help you find your friend. But there's some strange things happened with that boy, and he's gone now, so I can't help you. Best run along.
> What happened to him? Gone? 
>>You heard me he's gone. I don't know what happened. But there's an investigation and I'm not to talk about it until the case is cleared up. Go or I'll call the sheriff. Get!
> Wait, wait. Curtis. Talk to me please. You know something and I need to know what it is.
>> How the hell do you know my name? No one knows my name! Who gave it to you? Are you one of them? I already told you, he hasn't come here! I haven't seen Brendan since he was a child and that is that!!!!
He started becoming very agitated. My suspicions were confirmed. Someone had already been here asking and threatening. Shit, shit shit.
>Please. Curtis, it's Brendan. It's me. I know something is going on. Something isn't right. I need your help to find out what is going on. 
His eyes opened wide, like something had snapped into place. I hadn't noticed, but they looked slightly foggy before.... >>Brendan? My God boy, it is you! You need to go from here. Why are you here anyway? HE is after you. HE wants you. THEY want you. You have to run.
>I know. I know they want me. But I can't go until I figure out what they're doing to me. I need to know what you know about the accident I was in, or the night my house caught fire. You're my last resort. I'm sorry I came here but I need your help. 
>> Well, all right. I'm not sure you want to know, but since you asked, I'll go get the paper. THEY asked for it, you know. I gave them two other copies but I managed to keep one. 
He went into his back room and a few minutes later came back with a tattered newspaper that had a different front and back cover glued on. He opened it to the news of record and handed it to me. The look in his eyes said everything, but I read it anyway.
   Tuesday, May 03: News of Record
   A house fire in the northwest section of [town] has resulted in the death of one of its residents, Brendan August Johnson. The fire is believed to have started in the owner's bedroom on the second floor. Fire crews reached the scene in time to save the southern section of the home, but were unable to save the resident, whose body was found near the window. Electrical surge is suspected, though an investigation is still pending.
>> I'm sorry kid. I know this wasn't what you came here to find. But you have to go now.
>Who is it that came? When did they come?
>> A man came in late yesterday afternoon. He gave me the name Hypnos. Typical proxies, choosing the names of gods.. He was burned in several places and appeared to be wounded in the leg. He demanded that I give him all evidence of your existence. I have known about HIM for many, many years Brendan. I thought that when the proxies came rolling in, that they'd be coming for me. It was shocking to me that they asked for you.
>Holy shit, Curtis..I'm sorry. I'll go now. You should too. They'll come, and they'll know. They'll hurt you. 
>>I'll be taking my chances here kid. I've lived here for 72 years. My old body couldn't take running. I'm glad to see you alive kid. Now get.




I'm dead. Dead. Not missing. Not even presumed dead...I'm DEAD. They found a body. Whose body. They killed someone and substituted them for me. The first of the people to die because of me.

'Hypnos' is alive. Hell of a name. Stay the hell away from us, or I'll stab you myself next time.

We're leaving in the morning. I'll carry Eternity if I have to.

Skan, I think I'll take you up on your offer. Tell us how to get to you and get past the Rake, and we'll get there.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Events, Part 3: Final Chapter

Eternity flat out pounced on the guy. I have to hand it to her...She's fast. She didn't even give me time to respond to this proxy's demand that we surrender. Not that either of us intended to, but...Instead of words, she leaped at him with a knife. They both fought like cornered cats...Despite being crippled, he still fought like the soldier he claimed he used to be. They went back and forth, knife versus cane. If this wasn't such a serious situation, I'd say the fight was pretty damn awesome. She slashed him across the palm and a few minutes later, across the shoulder. Then he connected with her wrist, knocking the knife to the ground..then he hit her across the face with the cane. She dropped to the ground, and he just kept beating on her. Screaming the whole time, some (mostly incoherent) words involving revenge and pain. I felt frozen to the ground. I couldn't move. I don't know how she did it, but she managed to get up and shove him through a first-level window. She jumped through after him..I didn't see what happened next. All I know is that shortly after, I heard him yell and then everything went silent.

And then, as if things couldn't get any worse, his buddies show up. Three of them. I came out of my frozen state just in time to dodge an attempted hammer blow to the skull. At this point I figured that they had given up on capture and were aiming to kill. I retreated through the back door, throwing any sort of object I could find to slow them down long enough for me to reach my objective.  To the immediate left, into the workshop. I prayed (to what or whom, I have no idea) there was still spare gasoline for the lawn mower...and if not, at least there were things I could defend myself with. I wasn't disappointed though. There were still three full containers.

 I did the only think I could think to do. I lured them into the workshop area and for the second time set fire to the building. I didn't look back to see if I was being chased. All I wanted to do was find Eternity and outrun the flames.
I found her barely conscious by the window, blood streaming from her head, holding a piece of bloody glass in her hand. The proxy was also there, not moving. I didn't bother to check if he was dead or alive. I didn't care. We had to get out. Too hot...the backyard area was already consumed by flames that spread much too quickly. The wall was collapsing inward, dropping hot pieces of wood and siding on top of us. I grabbed Eternity  and made an awkward stumble to the basement door, which is luckily fireproof. Opened it up, tossed her in, and collapsed to the floor.


A day or two later I woke up. I was amazed to be alive. I thought we were dead, for sure. Thank god for fireproofing...If by some random chance I ever meet the original owner of the house I will thank them profusely. Amazingly enough there was still quite a bit of food and water left over from my last basement adventure. Nothing in the way of real first aid though. I made do with water and scraps of old t-shirts.

I ventured out a few days later to clear away some rubble and survey the area...Get this. My pack survived, as did the phone I stole from the boatman a few months ago. I guess the fire didn't reach out that far? No clue as to whether or not any of our attackers survived. I hope not, as horrible as that probably sounds. 

Monday, July 25, 2011

Events, Part 2: Meetings

There was something that felt entirely wrong about my house. From the moment I walked in, I could feel all sorts of...bad things. Everything I had come for was in the same room, a supply closet of sorts on the first floor, opposite from the burned area.I briefly considered walking into my room, but..I couldn't make myself do it. Something..something was preventing me from it. I felt as if there was a wall there. I'm not sure...what was causing it, if it was just my own misgivings, but..I didn't go in. I went to the closet, gathered everything I wanted into a couple of packs, and left. Something was getting more and more wrong by the minute. Time to get the hell out of here. Darkness....I'd already overstayed my time limit.

I don't know why I left through the back door. But it probably saved my life.As I walked out, the front entryway collapsed in on itself. I dismissed it at the time as instability caused by the fire, but looking back..I think it was a trap. Some sort of thing designed to fall in when a door was opened. And then I saw her. Eternity. Crouched behind an old rusted car that I do not remember owning. From the moment I set eyes on her...she looked haggard. Worried. Not the Eternity that was intent on making me one of her sick and twisted games.

E: Hawk. Thank God. I was afraid he'd found you first. When I heard that collapse...
Me: He? Who? You mean...HIM?
E: No...No, the man..The man with the scars, and the limp?
Me: What man? Is someone else here?
E: Oh yes. Yes..He has been here for two days now. I saw him arrive. I didn't know how to get a hold of you..And even if I tried, the filter..
Me: So he's looking for me. One of His minions.

A voice cut me off then. "Soldier. Not minion. Chosen by Him to find you. Both of you. Stupid little Eternity, sticking your nose in places it did not belong. Now you are His as well. We would have left you alone, you know. He would have made me, though I never would have forgiven you for what you did to me"
He stepped out of the shadows then. A man with a cane. And scars on his neck and arms.
  He continued speaking. "It started that night you know. That night you crippled me with your stupid sword. I thought I was useless to Him then. I was a soldier, built for hard living. I was used for this purpose. I asked Him to kill me then, but...No. He is good to me. He taught me things. How to walk in dreams. How to manipulate the mind, the senses.. My first real test was your filter. It seems I have failed. But no matter, you are both here now, and you will both surrender at once."
Hawk: "I know you. You...You....You are the man in the street. The broken cane. That was you."
 Him: "Ah yes. So kind of you to remember me. I never lied to you, Hawk. I told you it was a war injury. That I received the wounds the same night."
H: "Manipulations that might as well be lies. Eternity should have killed you that night. She could have, easily."
Him: "But she did not. Her first sign of weakness. I grow impatient of the small talk, children. Submit to Him now, or I will force you to."

To be continued when I get back. Eternity has finally woken up..And I have a newspaper to read.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Events, Part One: Home

Two Fridays ago. The 8th. That was my set mission date. I left the hotel after 'cleaning' up the area to make sure it looked every bit as nasty as it did when I found it. Just in case I guess. My mission: Get home as soon as possible and get the hell out of there even faster. It took a full week to get there by water and walking. I considered trying to get a ride, but I figured a guy hitchhiking with a small boat wouldn't stand much of a chance. Fast forward through all the boring details of the trip: No Slendy, no dreams, no muggers, not even a wild animal.  Which, now that I look back, ought to have been clue number one.

 The following Friday I showed up in the old neighborhood.(I use the term loosely. Seeing more than 20 people in one day around here is unnatural.) I have to admit, I did something (probably dumb) when I arrived. I walked around in the town's center..I guess I wanted to see if anyone remembered me. I wanted to know what the people I grew up around had to say about the certainly strange events surrounding my leaving town a few months back. But no one said a word. No one mentioned the missing person or the half-burned house even if I mentioned it first. I wasn't popular by any means, but you'd think someone,anyone, especially in a small town setting, would have remembered SOMETHING. That someone, like the grocer, or the manager of my favorite restaurant, or the town gossip even, would have at least recognized me. It's not like it had been years. Surely some news would have been left floating around, right?  Clue number two.

Clue number three came shortly afterwards, when I decided that it was time to make a move. I walked past the site of the car accident. There were no signs of it. I broke a fence, dented the hillside, snapped tree branches..But none of that was there. It was like all the evidence had been erased somehow. For some idiot reason though, I decided to go through with it. I think walking up the driveway was the hardest part. Knowing that I was now a stranger here, an intruder to my own house. Evidence of the fire still covered the part of the house I set fire to when I ran for it and lit the place up with our Slender friend still inside. That was apparently the only part that burned...I dismissed that as the fire department being good at their job. I neglected to remember that the closest firehouse is 15 miles away.

Friday, July 22, 2011

We're alive...maybe not kicking so much right now, but alive. Eternity found me, and so did he. I'll explain everything soon. She hasn't been conscious for more than twenty minutes in over six days....

Mystery, I'm sorry we worried you. Right now we're hunkered down in my basement. I set fire to my own house for the second time a few days ago..This time the basement is all that is really left. We're relatively safe for now I think. I haven't been thinking clearly enough to post anything until today. But I promise I'll make a post very soon with the whole story.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Getting Ready to Roll

The mission is close to being underway. I'm going through with it in a few days. Going home that is. I've packed up some supplies, cleaned up the room a little bit. I know it sounds a bit like I'm putting my affairs in order, but...Maybe I am, a little. I know what I'm doing isn't the safest thing I could do. But nothing in life is safe anymore.

I have a few things I want to say, just in case. I hope I'm not bringing in bad luck or whatever by doing this, but..Well it is what it is. Thank you to everyone who's been a speck of sanity in the incredible craziness. Just a quick note: I lit off a firework or two in the mystery man's face the other night..He reached out (we were in a city this time..I guess the landscape in my head changes with the landscape in real life?) and without thinking I just bombed the guy. I haven't had the dream since-I think he might be a little mad, wherever he might be. Eternity I know you might not read this (DAMN FILTER!!!) but just in case, I'm glad you figured things out even if it's too late to escape Him completely. I'm back down to one stalker. Hah. Maybe someday we can meet on friendlier terms, eh?

 Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and do this without running into tall and faceless. It's always possible right?

Friday, July 1, 2011

Sometimes, people really get on my nerves. Today I saw an older-seeming man in the street break his cane while crossing..did people stop their cars to help? No. Did someone on foot come out to help him up? No. Did anyone pay him a second glance? Course not...Most didn't even give him a first.
I ran out in the crosswalk and helped him to his feet and over to the coffeehouse. I've seen him before a few times, making his way to the drugstore or sipping coffee from an old red mug on the outdoor patio.
This is the first time we've made eye contact though...And then I noticed something. He can't be any older than 30. How odd...So I decided to ask him about it.

Me: Pardon me for asking, but how old are you? Seems like you're really young to have a limp like that..no offense meant of course.
Him: Nah, it's fine, trust me I get it all the time. It's a war injury. I fought for my cause for three straight years, and one night I got a little too cocky and got stabbed in the leg. Never been the same since then. Got a new job though, and I'm good at it. My command's been good to me.
Me: You do what you have to I guess. Did you get those scars on your neck and hands the same night?
Him: Oh these? Yeah..Yeah I did. Little bastard. Wasn't supposed to happen like that. It was supposed to be a smooth operation. Wasn't supposed to fight back. Anyway thanks for your help kid. Stay safe and be watchful.

And that was it. He hobbled away, presumably to buy a new cane. Should have asked if he wanted help, but he didn't really give me a chance. The end of it struck me.. "Stay safe and be watchful" ...How fitting considering my circumstances. It was odd..I feel like I know him from somewhere. But before here I'd never seen him before. I do feel bad for him though...only a little older than me, and crippled up and scarred for life. Makes me feel for everyone who's been injured fighting for their cause...Or in this line of work, fighting to stay alive. Like that friend on Anonymous' blog. Drake, I think. Permanently damaged, just trying to make it through. It's terrible.


I've probably said this before. But I'll say it again. Fuck you Slendy.