She's Alive.

Barely. But she'll live.

Just thought I'd let you know.

I'm Done

Everyone's dead.  Hope is lost. I can't do this anymore. I just can't.
I'm so sorry.


August, this isn't your fault. Please don't blame yourself.

Spencer. I love you. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough.

Lori... thank you for trying to help, I'm sorry for flipping out on you.

Elliott. Take care of Emily for me? I'm so sorry I couldn't keep you safe like I said I would.

Lis... I hope everything works out for you guys.

Tia, take care of Lis for me.

Richard, you were right. I'm sorry.

David, I'm sorry I failed you. Thank you.

Nick. Take care of yourself, you crazy fuck. Thank you for what you did for Hope.

Shaun. I.

Goodbye. I love you all. I'm so sorry for letting you down.

Where do I begin?

Elliott here.

Managed to wrestle coherency out of Elaine for a little while. I think anybody with a shred of common sense will figure she's not in the greatest of states - but hell, is anybody? Anyways. Got her functioning long enough to get myself on here. Figure you deserve an explanation.

Let me start off by saying we're safe - or, well, as safe as we can be given the circumstance. It's me, Elaine and Emily crammed in a car. It's spacious, at least, and Elaine and I are taking shifts. Em is basically comatose on my lap, the poor thing - she's got the softest brown hair and the clearest fucking blue-gray eyes and she just looks completely and utterly destroyed. I can't say I blame her, either - seeing what she saw there is something no six-year-old should have to deal with. Or anybody, for that matter.

From what I've heard, Rich and Shaun are travelling together. Good on them. They're tough bastards. Alex is with Steele, Rivers and Ray and they're not doing so hot - though they're alive, and fuck that's worth a whole lot right now. Rivers, Steele, thank you again for taking in Alex. I don't think I can express my gratitude enough. I don't even want to begin to think of what would happen to him if you didn't agree - and I'm so, so sorry about getting you dragged into this. Rivers, you'd better pull through. I've got a debt to repay to both of you.

But enough stalling.

Hope.

I could tell the place was off the second we set foot inside the concrete walls. Something about the way the floors creaked and the way the light hit the paint made the place seem uncanny. It had the same smell in the forest - under the pine and the damp earth, there was the unmistakable /stench/ of sulfur, pine and something I think we eventually nailed down as tar. Acrid and bitter. It burned your throat and made your eyes water. It wasn't nearly as strong as the forest had been, but it was still there. Notes of it on the edge of every breath. If you didn't step out for some fresh air you'd develop a headache - or, that's what happened to the three of us. Rich hated the place, Alex was uneasy and I was on edge. Every time I'd slip to the roof for a cigarette I'd see the slender bastard at the edge of the property, watching. Waiting. As if something was keeping him out.

We figured that one out, huh?

It was one hell of a deal, too. Tried leaving Hope to go shopping with Alex once. Second we crossed the property line Tall, Dark and Slender was on us - on /Alex/. We weren't two steps over and got back before he could be snatched up, but I don't think I'd ever been more scared of losing one of them. The second we were back over He stopped. Went back to watching us. Waiting.

(And of course now that we're out it's only gotten worse. Off in the corner of your eye. Like you've got blind in the deepest part of your peripheral vision, except the hole wavers every once and a while. It's barely a movement at all - always seems to happen just when you forget it's there. The fucker's toying with you and you know it and goddamnit it's working.)

...

I'm stalling again.

Can you blame me?

(Yes. Get on with it, Broodmoor.)

I... wasn't actually around for the start of it. I was supposed to be out of Hope by noon today. While everybody was having what'd be the last communal lunch, I was packing. Missed the glorious reappearance of Slender himself, Rivers getting his leg splayed open and destroyed - by the sounds of it, anyways - and the chaos that tends to follow this kind of stuff.

But I'd be damned if I didn't feel it in the place. So could Alex. I think to an extend everybody else could, too. If you stared at the walls they'd flicker and the rotten eggs and pine stench was noxious. But that aside, the place was quiet. Peaceful. Deceptively so, you could say - the calm before the storm.

(And don't think I didn't notice the date. Maybe it's coincidence, but I'm not stupid enough to dismiss it so quickly.)

Then hurricane Slender hit with full force. Rivers loses the use of a leg, Steele grabs him, Ray and Alex and books, Nick and Ellen are off riding flaming wolves somewhere, (/how much I wish I was kidding about that/) and I come into the kitchen just in time to watch Jennifer and Adam get run through by Dr. Stalktopus himself.

Elaine's standing between them. Defending them from Slender. He doesn't take kindly to this, of course, and grabs her by the leg and tosses her across the room. It's then that He turns his attention to the mother and child and lets them share the same fate as their husband and father.

Adam wasn't old enough to chew his own food. Babbled and bubbled. Couldn't have been more than a year and he was slaughtered in his mother's arms. Her dad was killed off before then - shotgun only a couple feet away. I didn't want to think about it.

And there's Emily, staring in horror.

I grabbed her and ran. 'Course Slenderfucker grabbed me. Popped my arm right out of its socket. Hurt like a bitch. Still hurts like a bitch. Popped it back in a while ago but it's still awkward and painful as fuck. But I'll live. Bastard's been waiting twenty years for me - a few more won't kill Him.

Had my bag over one shoulder and Em over the other. Injuries be damned I wasn't going to let her die. Ran until we got out of Hope - which had by then turned into a maze in itself, doors leading into different rooms than the ones you entered through. Windows blocked halls and I think we ran along the top of a door frame at one point. It was messed up. BC had some seriously weird architecture, but that was unsettling. This just didn't make sense. The kitchen was on fire. The sitting room - the one with the piano - was soaked in gasoline. Wouldn't be long until the fire reached it and there'd be a sizeable boom to follow - at least if Hollywood has taught me anything.

Flash of red. Giggle. Green eyes.

Writer. Couldn't see the bastard but I knew he was there. Probably the one responsible for filling the rooms with gas. Crazy bastard.

(Guess the forest wasn't enough for you, huh?)

We started driving. We're still driving. Not going to stop until we get to Vermont.

Time for my shift. I'm probably forgetting a few things. Going to add what I can as I can.

Hope is dead.
Jennifer, Levi, and Adam are dead.
We're alive and running.
I've failed

The Situation

Most of you, I expect, have seen this by now, or at least this. It's true, apparently due to my own insistence on security when the deal was being made, the fact that I've now told all of you about it has broken it. I guess I didn't think it would really happen. Though, Shaun's reveal would've broken it anyway.

I got everyone out that would agree to go. The problem? The Johnsons refuse to leave. They say that if Hope isn't safe, there's nowhere left for them. Therefore, they're not going to drag their six year old daughter running around the country to experience that much more fear and pain and death before the end. So they're staying and hoping for a quick death for all four of them, basically.

Like I'm just going to let that happen. Which is where things get interesting. Ray decided to stay and help fight. Elliott and Alex are still here-they're sticking together until a certain Stalked psychiatrist can take Alex to get properly looked at.

We have four newcomers, all of which are staying to help, though some longer than others. Apparently when people figure out you're stuck in a situation like this, petty shit like... oh, breakups and fights don't matter so much.

Yeah, that's right. Nick and Ellen arrived late last night. They've got some crazy scheme for countering any attack on Hope, but it's dependent on getting everyone out. Which, as I've already mentioned, is a big fucking problem.

Steele and Rivers are also here. Amusingly enough, neither of them had the slightest clue about what's been going down-as I mentioned, they're here to pick up Alex. But they've decided to stay at least a little while and help me fortify a little more-which is... honestly quite decent of them.
Still, the three of them and Elliott are all leaving as soon as I can get them out the door. I am admittedly not worried about Nick and Ellen, they... are more likely to accidentally blow up the place than get killed, I think.

Spencer. I'm not going to die. Please try to calm down, alright? If any of us have a fighting chance against this, I've got the two of them staying upstairs.

The Truth, Part 3

Thank you, Shaun, for being overdramatic and telling everyone your version of the story without sparing any time to really learn the details.

First off. Yeah, I have a deal with David. Did any of you really think that I managed to keep Hope slenderfree without something like that? Lets start off by all being honest. No one wanted to ask-and anyone who did ask, got the truth.

No, I'm not handing Stalked over to get killed. Anyone who has left here knows that I make a point of not asking where they're going. I deal in information, and I do my damndest to not inform on anyone that's been under my protection-I can't tell them where you are if you don't tell me, you know.

No, it's not perfect, yes someone could get killed because of my information, but let me ask every last one of you something. If I'm saving all of these lives, if people are staying here and being safe, given some semblance of a life back, and I'm giving information on maybe one person a month? Not even one person a month dies, just one person a month is informed on. As of right now there are six truly permanent residents of Hope-a family. Two of the forest kids, one of them currently incapable of running because of the trauma sustained while there, and a family. A mother, a father, a six year old little girl, and an infant. How many others get to live that much longer because they've spent some time here to get the heat off, to recover and get some proper meals and full nights of sleep and hot showers?

Look me in the fucking eye and tell me all of these people aren't fucking worth it.

So yes, I made a deal with the proverbial devil, but that's for your benefit. Every last motherfucking one of you has a place here if you want it. Because I don't fucking want what happened to Emma and Star and Cam to happen to anyone ever again. You all deserve fucking better, and I've made it my mission to give it to you. If that makes me a bad fucking person, so be it. I'll be here, doing what I can to keep everyone safe.

So hard to do, and so easy to say...

I think it's only fair that people see the whole truth here, where it's more likely to have an impact.

First of all, this isn't Elaine. This is Shaun. Yeah, yeah, I know. Probably not the nicest thing I've ever done, account hijacking and all that. But it isn't my fault I have the password, now is it? Anyway, second, I'm sitting here in an absolutely gorgeous hotel room,(translation: it smells like ass) wondering where it is my life went wrong and what any of us did to deserve all of this....

I left Hope.

'Why?' you ask. Let me tell you why.

Hope is a fraud. A clever fucking sham that's been deceiving you all since practically day one. I know this because I heard Elaine herself talking about it. She wasn't in our bed when I woke up this morning, so I went looking for her. Usually there are a few places she hangs out fairly often so that people can find her, but....today she wasn't in any of those places. I had to go find her on the roof, where she was apparently talking with David. I got there just in time to overhear a part of their conversation from my spot behind the door, and yes before you ask I was being a sneaky asshole and hiding for a bit. I don't trust David, and neither should any of you. After what he did to Jessie and what he's done here at Hope....yeah.

I managed to overhear this,

"Yeah, I'll hand him over by the end of the week. Fucker has it coming."

from Elaine to David.

I don't know who they were talking about. I don't know what the context was. But the sound of it is fairly awful, don't you think? It doesn't help that when I confronted the two of them, Elaine told me everything about the deal she has going with David to keep Hope 'safe'. Safe my fucking ass.

Elaine gives him information on you guys. All of you. Information about where you're headed, where you are currently, where you might be. It's not much but this is David we're talking about. If he wanted to get you he could and she's only making it easier. If he wanted to get you, it would be this easy.

And if He wanted to get you, it would be EVEN FUCKING EASIER!!


...

...So, that's why I left Hope. I'm sorry Elaine. I just can't let people walk into this blind, without knowing, and part of me hopes you can call the whole thing off and keep running Hope some other way. There must be another way of keeping the place safe that doesn't involve selling out and I'm sorry David used you to find new folks to prey on like that. It's not your fault. I don't blame you. I don't hate you for it. I just...I can't stay there, knowing what I know about what you're doing. And I can't keep quiet either because it's burning up inside my head and I have to tell you all to get out, every single one of you needs to get out right now before it gets any worse.

Hope is a lie. I should have known that from the very beginning. It always has been.

I'm getting back on the road again, after tonight. I've got all my supplies in a nice new duffle bag and I'm ready to go. This is my life. I've done this enough times to know how things work and what happens next. Time to go back on the run.



Goodbye Elaine.

Peace out, Hope.

-Shaun

The Truth, Part 2

I had meant to type up excerpts as I went along, little tidbits of Cam's journals, talking about his life and interactions with me. Reading through them, it's painfully obvious that I underestimated how much of his life revolved around me.

It's humbling, really. It's obvious that the journals were never meant for my eyes. The first one starts the day I got involved with Slender, and they don't miss more than a few days up until his death. So many notebooks, full of his hopes and dreams and fears, and I'm honestly not certain if he ever went more than a page without mentioning me in some way.

And I pieced together a story. Now I know why I don't remember much of anything before I hit twelve.

When we were little, Cam and I were inseparable. Cam had a twin brother named Joey, but he was a bully and neither of us liked playing with him. I only very vaguely remember Joey, but I do remember being scared of him, a little. I told you before of how I woke up in the forest and he was dead. But Cam remembered what happened. Cam and I liked to play in the woods behind our back yards. Our parents didn't mind so long as we didn't go out of range of the walkie talkies they made us carry.

Joey hated the woods-he liked to play inside, didn't like being out with the bugs and the heat and the dirt. But that day he followed us-probably to torment us about something. He caught up to us at exactly the wrong time. We went to our normal spot, where there was a small clearing we liked to play in. For whatever reason the underbrush was almost nonexistent in that part of the forest.
And there he was. Slendershit. Tall and faceless as ever. We didn't know what to do. Cam and I shied away, but Joey walked straight up to him and took his hand. There was a long moment of silence, then he came at us with a rock.

Cam doesn't know what exactly happened next. He says he darted into the hollow tree trunk behind us, and I stood there and tried to fend him off. He remembers a shout from Joey and a scream from me, then a dull thud. When he peeked out, I was clutching a big rock and Joey was on the ground with a big dent in his head. And slendershit had his tentacles out, looking furious, and I stared him down. As Cam recalls it, I stepped forward, dropped the rock, put my hands on my hips and said 'You can't have him'.

Then. 'Take me instead. I'll do whatever you want as long as Cam is safe'

I stepped forward, Slender took my hand, and I started laughing.
He vanished, I passed out, and Cam woke me up and started screaming about a man in the woods and Joey being hurt into our walkies.

Everything looked fine for a little while. They started hunting for the man who killed Joey, ruled that the two of us had undergone trauma from the incident, and life went on mostly as normal.

Until Cam caught me sneaking out into the woods. He followed. Watched me kill.

I killed fifteen people back then. He was there for eight. To talk me down and comfort me when I woke up covered in blood and scared and confused.

And then I killed my brother and my parents. When I snapped out of it, I slipped out the window to go to Cam's. Apparently we used to do that a lot-our bedroom windows faced each other. He let me in through his window and hid me in his closet, trying to talk me down.

It didn't work, they found me, and I got locked up.

Apparently, Cam visited me as often as his parents would allow, but for two years I was completely unresponsive.  I started out heavily sedated, but as time went on, they realized they didn't need to. All I did was stare. And Cam grew more and more worried. After two years, he gave in and decided to do something about it. Cut a deal with slendershit. The past four years would be wiped from my memory, and Cam would be allowed to live long enough to, as he put it 'make sure I recovered enough to make it alone'. In exchange, Cam offered himself as... a toy, basically. To be tormented and kept until I'd recovered enough, and not one moment longer.

And so it was his life. Helping me. Always there, always sacrificing any chance of a real life for himself, because he was going to die. Never saying a word about what he endured-he only rarely mentioned the torments in any detail in the journals and the couple descriptions I found were enough to give me nightmares.

While I was on the street he was frantically trying to find me-he tried to run away once, to come help me. He got caught, wasn't allowed to leave the house unsupervised for months. Never said a word.

That was always the name of the game, I've learned. He did so much for me. Never said anything, never told me what he'd sacrificed, worked so hard to make it seem easy, to make sure I never noticed anything amiss. I spent so much time staying with him, living with him, and he made sure I never even got the slightest hint of his pain. Nor did Jake, really. He knew about me, but Cam was certain that Jake never knew about the torture he went through regularly.

And then the dreams started a couple days after I got out of jail. And he knew that it was a warning-that his time was coming to an end. And he was so fucking relieved. He wanted the end so badly, the only thing that kept him alive was... well, me.

I didn't know.

And now I feel like so much scum, compared to the man who literally gave everything he had to me.

...I'll do you proud, Cam. I promise.

Rescue Time!

As I mentioned in this post, Konaa realized that something needed to be done about the 23s kids and recruited Shaun and I to help. So that's what we've been up to. Driving to Canada to brave a bigass forest of death. Sounds like something out of a comic book-maybe that's why Konaa was so hyped.

We met up with Konaa in town and took a little while to get the introductions and reunion shit over with, but none of us were really much in the mood for that. It was good to see him again, but what we were about to do kind of put a damper on things. I'll be honest, we had no plan for how to get out, we just knew we had to try. I thought there was a fair chance I was going to die there.
But, well worth it. These guys needed my help, and I wasn't going to leave them be. Not anymore.

After meeting up, we all headed for the forest. I was struck by how utterly normal the place looked. When I was a kid I used to love playing in the woods. Cam and I spent a lot of time there. Which, I guess is part of why...
Off the point..
The point is. The forest looked normal, not threatening or foreboding, and the only thing that made me uncomfortable is the fact that Canada is fucking cold.

One last kiss, then we headed in. It seemed normal from the outside, but the fuckery set in pretty fucking quick once we started onto the path. It went all dark and foreboding, and as we went on, the little noises started. Rustling in the brush, crunching of gravel. All to get us turned around and spooked.
Easy enough to ignore, after the first few times. We remembered the place is designed to fuck with us and kept going.
Next, we saw a person on the path. Just for a moment, he spooked and ran off when he saw us. Worked out fine for us, though. He led us to the right path to get to the camp-after passing through several types of hell, we made it to the area that was theirs. Sewn together tents strung up in trees made a roof, sewn together... I don't even know made a floor. It was big-way bigger than needed for eight kids, and there was too much stuff around, as well.
It was... a reminder. Of how many we had failed to save. How much these kids had already lost. More important on a practical level, it was empty. We set to searching the place, hoping that we weren't too late. Found a lot of random things about, all seeming to have their own sad stories, but no sign of life. Till Shaun found a set of dogtags.
Let me tell you, it's not the most promising start to a rescue when the first time you meet the people you're trying to save one of them has a knife to Shaun's throat. We got it sorted, though, with some introductions. The guy with the knife turned out to be Richard, the guy from the path turned out to be Lyle, Elliott and Alex were off to the side nearer to me, Suze... raged at them from a little further back, and there were three others whose names I'm sad to say I didn't get.
There was talking, a lot of calling us crazy, a lot of us acting tough and capable so they'd trust us to come with. Then... a flash of red. Red hair. Green eyes. Giant curled grin.
Writer.
Next thing we know, one of the girls grabs her torso and it just... falls out. Terrible and disturbing, obviously not fixable. I grabbed the kid closest to me-Elliott, as it turns out, and Shaun, and start to run.
We're not even out of camp when Richard starts yelling at us to stay still because 'Cheshire' as they called him (Which chilled my blood for other reasons) only went after moving targets.
Cue a discussion on our four parts-four because Elliott grabbed Alex's arm-on whether to run or stand. Meanwhile, Konaa was arguing with Richard and Suze and Lyle-none of them wanted to leave. I wanted to help, but there wasn't time. If I went to intervene, we might've all died. So we started running. Just in time for slendershit to come out of the forest behind us and start wrecking things.
The four of us were running hard and fast-not least because Writer was still following us- when Elliott starts telling us we're going the wrong way. Apparently he had a vague idea of where the exit was from his time with Harper, AKA the Collector. It was while we were trying to catch our bearings that Harper found us and started telling us to get out while we still could. He was... defending us. Drawing Writer's attention, telling Elliott how to get out.
I really... as much as I'd like to think otherwise, I don't think Harper made it out alive. But there's no questioning that he saved all our lives.
Elliott led us the rest of the way out, and we found Richard there, just outside the forest, laughing and crying with relief and probably a hundred other things. Konaa... tried to go back in-but Writer wouldn't let him back in the loop, so he just wandered around for a bit before we all cut and run.

I'm glad to be fucking out of there. It was... bad. We were in there for a couple hours, and... well, it was so... still and quiet and disturbing that I'm pretty sure it kicked my imagination into overdrive.  I saw things that... are impossible. It's all mind fuckery. This shit can't actually be real, there's just no way. But tricking us into thinking it is... well, that's easily done in such an environment. I can't help but wonder if perhaps that's all it ever was. Mindfuckery.
Not to take it lightly. That shit is more terrifying than any weapon, harder to resist than a good poison. It's just...If that's what it was, then I'm honestly amazed at how well Richard and Elliott are doing. How solid they seem, in spite of the horrors they've faced.

At this point, it's a race back to Hope-I'm hoping we can get home before the proxy kill squads find us. I expect Writer has some groveling to do for letting them escape-if this... whatever it was was important enough for all of this madness, I'm guessing he's going to get some serious flak for letting it fail. I'm more worried about random goons-not because we can't take them, but because I honestly don't want Alex and Elliott's first days out of the forest to be marked by fighting. They've done enough, they deserve to rest.

Road Trip

Firstly, my apologies to anyone whose blog I drunkenly commented on the other day. I still haven't found all of them, I expect, it's been a busy day and I haven't had much of a chance to look. I assure you, I'm back to sober now-it's a brief slip, not a return to my old ways, and I made sure that others were watching Hope during my binge.
Just as they are now, actually. Shaun and I are on our way to help in the rescue of the remaining forest kids. Konaa was right, we've been ignoring this tragedy for way too long, and I'm not going to let them die without a fight. So we're driving to Canada. Hang in there, you fuckers, we'll be there soon.

In my absence, Tia and Lis are running Hope. I trust them implicitly, Hope is in excellent hands.

Other than that, I don't have much to say, I just wanted to update everyone on the current state of affairs.

Departures and Another New Arrival

After quite a lot of insanity, Michael has left for real. He's pretty much single handedly responsible for making all our lives at Hope more interesting, what with the slendercrazy, but I'm going to miss the bastard.

He's the first of the long term 'residents' to actually leave, which is a little sad. Here's hoping the fucker doesn't get himself killed out there on his own.

Opal and Alice left a couple days ago, though that hasn't made much difference as they were in lockup the entire time. Considering what happened when the RtS folks let her stay with them, I certainly wasn't going to take any chances. I must confess to breathing a sigh of relief when they left, though.

TMV is also leaving, which is another one that I'm sad to see go. He's been a good friend to me for quite a while, I'm sad to see him leave. But, he has things to do, and I'm certainly not going to get in the way of that.

Still, the house feels so much emptier, even with Lexi arriving. It would be enough to depress me, except that the fact that my life is at the point now where I have time to sit around and be sad because friends left is kind of insane, in a good way.

I'm still working on sorting through Cam's journals and such. There should hopefully be a post up on that within the week.