Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Fucker Means Business

This past weekend I met up with Ember. We've been emailing constantly since. Well, for a while now. And in light of recent events, Salome told Ember to get out and relax. So we decided to meet.

The first day he was here I made sure Emily and Elliott were safe and far away from us, just in case, but it turned out to be entirely unnecessary. Ember is just as sweet in person as on the internet, and we had a lot of fun the first few days.

Today, however, I got another note with breakfast.
It was a picture of Emily and Elliott, asleep in their room, which was right next to and connected to ours. The caption on it read 'You're getting sloppy. If I wanted them dead, they would be.'

Ember got a call from Salome not long after. The three of us, meanwhile, are on the move again, and we'll be sleeping in shifts from this point onward.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Putting Things Off

I've gotten lazy. There's some stuff I was supposed to post months ago, that just never got typed out. I did two interviews, which aren't normally my thing, but if a friend wants to get something off their chest, I'm certainly not going to turn them down.
They probably would've both been lost to time, but Dysis put up a post about her childhood, and that inadvertently shamed me into putting this up-since one of these interviews is with Dysis, I figure I really should.

Right. So, the interview with Dysis was actually over the phone, I've never been lucky enough to meet her in person, though I really would love a chance to have a drink with her. She asked me if I would hear her story and post it, she wanted to get it out there and didn't quite have the heart to post it herself-which I totally understand.

By now everyone knows that she's a country girl who went into the parks service, saw a bunch of monsters, nearly got gored to death, etc. She was away from home for years, and when she finally went back... everything was different. The trees and brush were all dying, and the kids were... quiet. Blank.
She didn't know what to think, so she just went about her business, went to see her best friend from before she left-a guy named Riley, who'd since married and had some kids.
The kids were a little weird, but the visit went well, and he ended up asking her if he could have some of the firewood she had at her old house. She certainly wasn't using it, so she went to get it for him and ran into his kids, standing there all creepy like in her backyard. She was understandably confused, offered to take them home. Next thing she knew she was tied up arms spread kneeling on the ground in a basement.
Riley's standing in front of her, with a bunch of kids, a couple teenagers, and some adults all milling about. When she asks what the fuck was going on, she gets the story of the years she'd missed.
Kids started going missing. All the kids under ten vanished, one by one, and the teenagers started having night terrors and hysteria and nervous ticks, some even had full blown breakdowns with the screaming like in some bad exorcism movie.
Some of the kids showed back up again, but they were acting all weird, like she'd seen, and they wouldn't talk about where they'd been.
And then one day at church he shows up. Standing in the doorway, all the kids huddled around his feet. And then he vanishes, and the kids are still there, and all the parents go and grab their children and take them home, and everyone tries to forget.
But we all know it's not that simple when it comes to slendershit.
The kids started acting strangely, talking about how god was angry and that's why they'd been taken, and how everything would go back to normal if they started worshipping the 'real' god.
And they did. They set up services for him and suddenly he's about more often and telling them to do things like converting everyone else. And to do what they had to to those that resisted.
Dysis said what struck her then wasn't so much the whips he started fishing through, but how defeated he looked. It was obvious he didn't want to do this, but he had to.
He called up the teenagers, told them they had to learn how to 'convert people'. He lashed her a couple times to demonstrate, then called the first one up, then the second, and so on. Every few teens he'd stop and ask her if she was ready to convert. She persistently told him to go to hell, and in the end he called everyone in and made an example of her. All of the teens had a go at her, and by the end she could barely talk but she was as stubborn as ever.
And then Riley turned to the adults and told them to get their tools. She's thinking she's pretty fucked till she sees this little girl hiding behind her mother and begging her not to let it happen, and she just snaps.
Dysis doesn't remember what happens next, really. Next thing she knows she's standing outside in the mud, bleeding and clutching an axe, and she doesn't really know what happened, but it's not hers and it's covered in blood and there's a fire starting.
And there he is. Slendershit. Just standing there staring, with kids all around him again. And she saw red and charged the bastard, knocking the kids aside to chop into him like a fucking tree. Apparently it hurt like a motherfucker and whatever happened next she ends up in the mud and gets to her truck and drives to the nearest rest stop and sits there till she can function again.
According to the radio, a forest fire wiped out the town. No word on any bodies or anything, just a forest fire that caught in all those dead trees without any hope of survivors.
She cleaned herself up and locked the axe away in the trunk-it makes her nauseous and headachey to be around, apparently.

She may not remember exactly what happened, but she knows she killed them. That's her big secret. She's worried everyone will reject her for that-she's never told anyone but Hylo before. Somehow I expect with the way the Stalked have to be sometimes we'll understand. Especially considering she's made a big effort to make sure nothing like that ever happened again.

The second bit of info is from a discussion I had with David, back... before. During one of his visits. I was understandably curious and I figure maybe if you lot understand a bit more about him, I'll stop getting fucking ambushed every time I see him because oh fuck the enemy.

Fuck you guys. Yeah, he does some awful shit. But let me paint this in clear black and white. So did I. I'm not going to judge him for doing all the same sorts of things I used to do. You look at David and see a monster, I look at a guy who has some rather awful hobbies, but who always has a smile and a treat for Em, and whom goes completely peaceful and delighted at the simple presence of music. Any music, doesn't matter.  The simple joy there... it's gorgeous.
More importantly, he's done a lot for me. And it's not exactly his fault he got involved with slendershit, from what he's told me, the fucker showed up in his apartment one night and smacked him around till he agreed to work for him.
He says he gets his orders direct too, none of this bureaucratic bullshit. Apparently he gets dreams. And they're special dreams that he always remembers and feel very different from normal dreams. And they're his assignments. And if he does well enough, he gets a year. A year of life for someone he cares about, apparently. That's how he was keeping TMV safe. And his son, apparently.
Most of what he does-and this is going to count against him, but for the sake of honesty I'll include it anyway-is just what he wants. He does what he does because he's trying to protect people, or because he thinks his helping, or because he's fucking bored, I don't know.

It's just. He's not a monster, just a man who does bad things. And I guess that's still not great, but I feel like it's important to make the distinction. Monsters don't bring little girls candy just to see them smile. Monsters don't let their friends cry on their shoulders in the middle of crowded diners. Monsters... Monsters don't fall in love or dote on their children and try to set them up with people to cheer them up.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

We're Going to Disney World!

Or rather, we did. Met up with Rachael today-she suggested it as a good opportunity to do something for Em, and as the poor kid certainly needs all the cheering up she can get, it struck me as a good idea.

One day, spent in the Magic Kingdom, with a six year old. We spent all day running about, trying to see and do everything. Emily, of course, took to Rach like she's taken to all of my friends she's met-enthusiastically and loudly.

Would've been a nice, peaceful day, except for two fucking things.
The first happened around 2 or so, we'd just done fucking Splash Mountain, and Emily wanted the picture. For those of you who don't know, at the top of the big fuckoff hill at the end of Splash Mountain, there's a camera set up to take your picture right before you go over. They sell the pictures at the exit of the ride.
Em wanted a copy, so we went to get it-and got a little more than we bargained for.

The entire right side of the picture was distorted all to hell. Looks like slendershit was nearby. And worse, when I got the copy of the picture (figured maybe it was just the monitor since they didn't seem bothered by it), it came with a threatening note.

"Mock me all you want, but I won't just watch forever."

Still a little trite, and yes the 'o's were all replaced with operator symbols, but the fact that they could slip the note /into/ the frame with the picture means this isn't just some idiot amateur. The fact that only our picture was distorted... Well, that means he showed up just for us. How nice.

The other thing was the chat I had with Rach, while Elliott and Em watched the fireworks. She'd been... wobbly, for lack of a better term, all day. Looked a little glassy eyed, was a little slow to react to things. Barely noticeable, especially considering how bright and happy she seemed, playing with Em and seeing us. It's such a fucking radical change from the quiet, demure, sad proxy I stayed with back in August.

But I was right. Something's wrong. She's pretty badly injured. Been shot a couple times, and has a burn on her arm from the New Years party. I only got to see her arm, but that, at least, was infected enough to look really bad. I'm fucking worried about her.

Nothing I can do, though. I offered the little help I can give, and she told me not to worry, she has a plan. So, hopefully that works out.

As for us? We're long gone by now. Gotta keep fucking moving, after all.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Forgetting Something?

Still don't know what that fucking note was about. I figure it's some moronic proxy just trying to psych us out. Because obviously we're rookies who are going to get spooked by random notes, not like we've been at this for a while and seen all kinds of horrific things.
Oh no, these notes are /so scary/.

And yeah, notes. There's been a couple more. On our hotel room door and on the windshield-they don't seem to be able to catch us anywhere else. Stupid shit. "Look around" and "Father's watching".

Urgh, I know he's watching, I hardly sleep for the amount of watching he does, shut up about it already.

On the bright side, that lottery ticket won us a few hundred bucks, so that's a nice bit of cash-it'll pay for our rooms for a few days.

Otherwise... things are pretty calm. I've gotten more or less back to normal, we have our routine, Emily seems to be doing pretty well. Elliott's... well, he's him. He's doing just fine. Bitching about being back in the US, but he's just giving me shit for the fuck of it. It's easier to be somewhere where at least one of us legally exists and isn't risking being booted from the country because I didn't have a visa.

So, that's us. Just running. Dealing with some moronic shithead of a proxy.  And winning the lottery.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

We stopped at a Kroger for no more than five minutes.

Had to get some shit for the road. Food, water, Tylenol, whatever. The usual stuff.

It was when we got back outside that things got a little weird.

At first I thought we'd gotten a parking ticket. There was a little square of paper stuck under the wiper. Strange, sure, but nothing too suspicious. Elaine and Em were trailing behind a bit, Emily struggling to pull a Kit-Kat from underneath a week's worth of ramen and Dr. Pepper.

Yeah, I know it tastes like shit. Bite me.

It's college all over again on the road, and I'm not sure if I'm complaining or not.


So the note. And yeah, it was a note, not a parking ticket. A scaaaaary~ little piece of cryptic bullshit written on the back of what looked like a lotto ticket.


You had to be kidding me.

This was so Marble Hornets.

Wasn't really sure what to make of it at first. You get a note under your wiper and normally it's some passive-aggressive asshole raging on about your inability to parallel park or a nice little chunk of change you're expected to pay because you ran into a store for five minutes for a pack of cigs because of course it's only when you're gone for a few minutes. It's not really that common to find what looks like My First Death Threat, letters cut out of a magazine and O's crossed with what you swear must have been tar or paint because it sticks to your fingers and stinks.

I guess we did the most logical thing with it.

That is, take the note and get out of there as quickly as possible.

Hey, we're snarky, not stupid. Even if this is some newbie fresh off the betentacled bandwagon we're not about to take any chances. Elaine doesn't seem the slightest bit concerned and I'm a little more curious as to why it's on a lottery ticket instead of some personalized operator-symbol ridden stationary à la the red-haired bastard or something ripped from a 16-year-old girl's diary.

Either way, we're still on the road. Elaine's started putting us in connection rooms so she can have her nights in peace - says it's 'nightmares' but yeah, right, like I'm going to believe that. At least I get some time to watch Em and figure some stuff out for myself.

Updates to come, I guess. Nothing else to report.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

So, we've left Benjamin's place. It was nice to stay in one place for a bit, but it's a bit of a relief to be on the move. Means I'm less likely to bring doom down upon poor Benjamin, at least. Em's got a bunch of new books, courtesy of our former host, and so she's pretty pleased, even if she did do everything but burst into tears in an attempt to get us to stay.

But travel is essential, considering we're high priority targets. So we keep going.

And we keep going. And I try to cut back on the drinking some, now that we're moving and Emily can't be so easily kept in the dark.

At least I have good news tonight, right?

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Of all the things I wanted to wake up to...

... Elaine in hysterics is not one of them.

Hey. I guess it's been a little while. Festivities and whatnot and oh, yeah I guess the above is pretty important, too.

So, Gargoyle made a post.

Normally this doesn't bother me. That's all fine and good. My opinion on the matter I'll leave out because, frankly, I've got enough enemies and I don't really want to make any more.

But clearly, this bothered Elaine.

If anything, Gargoyle, I'll give you this: relax, I know what I'm doing. 

I guess I can't really blame him. When you say she's got a few skeletons in her closet... oh, baby, you don't know the half of it. But judging by her spectacular little reaction to Ben's transcript - which, I should mention, doesn't include anything that we haven't already heard about her - I'm not about to go putting it out there for the world to see.


Spoiler: she doesn't have the drinking under control. Locking herself in her room every night and reeking of alcohol every morning is far from 'under control.'

But it's not my place to judge.

So I'll go back to filling the farmboy's role while he and his family (fuck, man, so glad to hear you all got out of there alive. That's insane.) recover. I'm no St. Claire but hey, I guess I'll do?

It's either me or the alcohol. Sometimes me and the alcohol.

It's not a problem if you get drunk together, right?