Encounter

I really want to know how the crap people keep finding me! I'm not exactly light on the stealth. Though I guess these days all she'd need to do would be follow those police reports I mentioned...

In any case, I got a present today. Out in the middle of the street, in the middle of town. Ryuu found me. As I mention, I've no idea how. But she did. I didn't even recognize her until she was walking away-there is video of her on the blog, but it's been a while and I wasn't expecting her, of all people. Not after all the fighting between Mitch and I.
I suppose that's why she did show up, though. Walked right up to us in a parking lot, clutching Mitch's washer necklace. I whirled, shifting to get ready for a fight, but all she did was shift it in her hand to grab it by a specific one.
"You were wrong. On all counts." She told me quietly, handing me the necklace. I took it, noticing the dried blood remaining on the thing. When I looked up to ask what the fuck was going on, she shook her head. "I'm so sorry."
Ryuu then bolted, leaving me to shout. "I'm sorry too!" back after her.

After a lot of thought, I've put it on.  I can't do the same for my own kills, it would require a much longer chain and be heavy enough to probably cause issues. But it feels... right. Respectful, somehow. I mean. I hated Mitch for what she did to Star. For how she attacked me, even when I was trying to make some sort of peace. But probably most...
Mostly because her situation terrified me because I've never really been more than one bad day from where she is. All it would take would be one misstep, letting him have even the slightest foothold in my mind. And then I'd be stuck, just like Michelle.
We had so much in common. In our fight for independence, we lost so many people we cared about. I was always so scared of looking in the mirror to see what peered back at me. I fight so hard, I have been this whole time. To not just survive, just barely keeping out of slender's grasp, but to /live/. To regain what he's stolen, as Cam helped me to do, and reclaim my feelings, my personality, and to regain the ability to function like a real person.
But he calls. And he'll never, ever stop, and eventually he'll find a way in. And then it's only a matter of time. Watching Mitch and Spencer go down...
I can't deny that anymore.

I've arranged to give custody of Emily to a friend. Someone she already knows and adores. It's not safe for her to be with me, I was stupid to ever think otherwise.

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.

A Chat With Our Host

I don't want to talk about it. After the other night, I ended up sitting down with him and asking the sort of questions I wasn't sure I'd get a chance to ask.
The transcript is here, and the fucker didn't leave /anything/ out. Even the stuff I would've preferred to keep quiet.
I'd be rather pissed, except it's kind of nice having him concerned enough to do this crap.

For those of you concerned enough to wonder, yes I'm still miserable, no I'm not going to do anything drastic, and yes I've got the drinking under control, thank you. Also, despite what it sounds like, I'm not deliberately starving myself, I just have no fucking appetite.

I'm fine, really. Just fine.

Holidays are Fucking Exhauasting

Just posting briefly to say that we've made it to Benjamin's place. The stockings are hung, presents are under the tree, Em's happily asleep in her room after watching Christmas movies till I wanted to scream.

I've never been a big fan of the holidays, but it's nice to see her smiling properly again.

Benjamin's a good host, if you wanna hear about the mundane bullshit, just follow the link to his blog. I'm gonna go fill some stockings, then crash.

Maybe then I won't have to think about everyone that's not here with us.

Apologies and Eulogies

Well, it's Elaine again. I'm still alive, I'm doing just fine, and back more or less to normal.

I really just want to start all of this off by apologizing for a certain stupid thing I did. It was selfish of me to try to remove myself from all of this without thinking about those of you I'd be leaving behind. Most of you I've talked to one way or another to apologize to more directly, but I feel like I should say something here. According to Blogger, a lot of people read this fucking blog. Probably at least some of you are looking for guidance, just like I was, back when I started. I don't want my story to end with such a cop-out.
All of you reading this deserve more from me, and honestly, I don't really feel like giving up yet. There's a lot of fighting left for me to do before I get my rest, and I intend to make slendershit crazy trying to take me out.

It was just grief. Grief for everyone we've lost recently. Starting with the fall of Hope, I lost eight of the people nearest and dearest to me over the course of a week. As I've said in the past, I'm nothing fancy with words or feelings, but I feel like I ought to say something for everyone that's gone.

The Johnsons. Their blood is directly on my hands. The family came to Hope because it was the only chance they had left. When they arrived they'd lost everything but each other, and were managing to hold strong and raise their daughter well.
But they had too much faith in me. They said the safest place in the world for them was at my side, in Hope, even without special protection. Jennifer, Levi, and poor little Adam. They were a loving, close knit family, and they deserved better than what they got.  Elliott and I are taking care of their daughter. Emily is only six, but she's amazing. I hope we can raise her right and keep her safe.

Michael. Or perhaps I should call him Nemo? He were more himself before he took his name back. He was a dear friend to me, even when he was going mad. Down underneath the protective layer of douchebaggery was the kind and thoughtful man I came to know when he first came to Hope. I miss him a lot, and I will always regret that I couldn't help him when he came to me in the end.

Konaa. He was a hell of a brave, crazy kid. No, man. I called him a kid, but his actions proved himself to be one hell of a good man. He was another of the best of us. Noble, tenacious, kind. He never gave a crap about himself, he was always fighting for us. He never killed, never even harmed anyone unless he absolutely had to. He was a good friend and a good man. He will be missed by all. He died as he lived-standing for what he believed in.

Lucas. He was by far one of the best, kindest men I've ever had the good fortune to know. He helped me through a lot of shit right until the end. He was also the first other Stalked I really got in touch with when shit hit the fan, which made him... one of my oldest friends. The world has lost something, losing him.

Joel. He and I were close as well. Lucas and Joel were, for a while, a bright shiny example of true love in the face of adversity. Then he was taken by his Wolf. But he refused to give up. He fought his way back out for the man he loved. He shouldn't be remembered by his final actions, but as a man who did anything and everything to protect the man he loved.

Josh. He was a hell of a kid. Would've really been somebody if he'd gotten a chance to grow up and actually do things, instead of run from a faceless fuck in a suit.  I didn't get to know him quite as well as the others, but I knew him well enough to miss him now.

I'll try to get something up in the next few days talking about what's been going on with me.

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.

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.

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.

I've been putting this off long enough

Some of you observant folks might remember that Cam left behind a notebook and that I've been promising to post it for a while. The wait is over, everyone. Here it is. But don't say I didn't warn you.

It's... strange. A lot of nerd references, a lot of him writing with his off hand (I guess to disguise the writing some?). And. Then, these two things.

This tells me a couple of things:

First and most obvious. He knew he was going to die. He knew how he was going to die. He chose not to fight it, to let it happen.

Second, he thought his death would 'free' me. This probably goes back to when I was a kid, during that big chunk of time I just don't remember. But... I have no idea. Why would he think that? Why would him dying ever be a good thing?
I just don't know.
I need more info. I'm looking through Cam's notes. He's got... a lot of random papers, assorted journals, looks like, from random times starting from when he was a kid and spanning to his death.
I'm going through them but... I'll admit, it's slow going. This is fucking hard. He... he was my best friend. He was all I had for most of my life, and this... I'm finding out how little I really knew him.
Because that was always just how he was. He put everyone and everything before himself. He didn't matter. The rest of the world was more important.
I was more important.
I wish I'd taken the time to try and talk to him more about him.

Death and Hospitals

Before I do anything else, I want to remember Morningstar.

Look, I know a lot of you never liked him, never trusted him. A lot of you were convinced he'd never change. Some of you were convinced that even if he did, he needed to die for his crimes.

Those people clearly never saw him like I did.

He had a big reputation, considering his knack for cartoonish violence and his... interesting eating habits. And, you know, I'm not going to bother arguing about that. Because, yeah, he was bad. He was pretty terrible. He killed a lot of people, did a lot of terrible things.

But, we've all seen the difference now. The clear distinction between Star being free and Star as a hallowed. The evidence is right there on the blog. The creativity, the personality? That was always him. The cruelty, the lack of regard for people? That was not.

So, for the record. The Star that killed people by tying them to railroad tracks or trapping them in mazes of death? That's not the man I'm mourning today.

The Star I'm mourning is the one I introduced you all to. The one who held me while I cried. The one who risked everything to get me out of a bad situation, the one who gave up everything he had to try and find a way to live as a runner.
The Star who still cried about his brother, and who never stopped hurting and doubting himself after the abuse of his parents.
The Star who loved hugs and who hated to see me hurt, and who was such a complete softie that he literally tucked me in and sat by my bedside, that last day, because he saw the pain I was in.
I loved him like the brother I lost so long ago. I just wanted to keep him safe, to give him the chance to chose for himself for the first time in his entire fucking life.
I had hoped that even if he died from this, he would die a free man.

It seems that thanks to a certain proxy in denial, this was not to be. Mitch, I can't bring myself to wish horrible tortures on you, because those are inevitable now. Know that by succumbing to this you have failed Ryuu, your family, and yourself. Know that being robbed of that kill will haunt you for the rest of your life-as short as that will be, now, even without my interference, and that I rejoice in that fact.
I will not waste my time seeking revenge, because that won't bring him back. He wouldn't want me to, and so I will respect that. But I will dance on your grave when you meet your inevitable horrible fate.



That said, I'm out of the hospital now-though that was a story that I owe it to you all to share.

Considering the events of the past few days-and my complete inability to share them with non-Stalked in a way that makes sense, the doctors have become increasingly suspicious of my mental health. After all, I've spent the past month and change at the mercy of my kidnapper/rapist, right? (And yes, that's what they think happened with Jake and I'm certainly not going to tell them the truth).
I've been doing what I can to convince them otherwise, but that's very difficult when you're terrified and grieving.
Yesterday after the news about Konaa I flipped so much shit I... may have punched a nurse that came to check on me. Not hard enough to do any damage, but hard enough to scare her.
They sedated me. Knocked me right the fuck out. After I specifically informed them on day one that I didn't care what they had to do, I would be awake for it. Refused to sign anything that gave them the right to do so.
This morning they made me go through a psych evaluation-they were trying to get me sent to the psychiatric ward for my trauma.
I passed the evaluation with flying colors, then proceeded to make a huge stink about patients rights and legality and how I had just gotten the news that my dear friend had died and it was simply purely reasonable grief that I had been suffering and how they were all assholes that I was going to sue the pants off of if they did not discharge me.
Funny, it took maaaaybe two hours after that before I was walking out the door.

So, I'm on the road again, this time with a specific destination in mind. No more mad wandering, no more letting fear get the best of me. Shaun's right. I have to live. For all of them that aren't anymore.

Still Alive

Still running.
Stopped at a motel for a few hours last night when I hit the point where if I tried to keep driving I'd get into a wreck. We're stopped for food at the moment-we both need to eat if we want to be in good enough shape to beat this.
Star's seen some minor improvement. He'll walk on his own-he follows me around, honestly. He takes basic instructions, which makes my life a lot easier. I'm hoping this means he's honestly improving.
You all have reason to hate him, but for fuck's sake, slendershit hunted him down in the one place he thought he'd be safe and turned him into... this. Just. Empty. Blank.
Until... like eight or so last night he couldn't even move. I had to carry him.

I don't know what exactly has been done, but I do know that it must be absolute hell.
He had the option to return. But he didn't take it. He chose to stay, to deal with the consequences.
Does anyone still doubt his sincerity? Or even how deserving he is?

He's just a kid, guys. The same age my little brother would've been. Just a scared, abused kid who eight months ago hadn't done a damn thing wrong. Before he got roped into the proxies his only crime was lashing out at his captors. He was scared and alone and I just wanted to fucking help him because no one else seemed to really want to try.

And now Spence is dying and Writer's on their blog and Doc's trying to save his life running on adrenaline and  amphetamines.

I haven't been this scared since Prosper was in my apartment. I don't know what to do.

Foolishness, Loss, and Another Log

First. It seems I've made an ass of myself on the RtS blog. The comments. I let Steele get to me. Which was a mistake. As I said in my last comment, it was my mistake for letting grief get to me. And I would like to perhaps once again apologize. For being a twat. Even though I was right, I should've been nicer about it. And not started trying to start a fight.

Grief. For those of you who don't know. Emma(Shrodinger) died. She and I were close, considering we travelled together for a month. She was one of the three kindest, sweetest people I have ever met. The love she had for all of us was incredible. Hell, even the Messenger liked her.
I wish I had something eloquent and beautiful to say. She was so poetic, she deserves better than my fumbling prose. But she was a dear friend and I will miss her more than I can possibly say.

In other news, another chat log. Because as much as I want to sit around and mourn, I promised you all I would show you what I see. So I continue with the conversation we had when he decided to come rescue me.

[7/26/2011 1:58:48 AM] Morningstar: Getting drunk AGAIN?
[7/26/2011 1:59:33 AM] Elaine: I'm in a cage. Out there? A bedroom and a bathroom. That's all I have for the next week. Not to mention... Well, you know.
[7/26/2011 2:00:19 AM] Elaine: In any case, I DO NOT LIKE cages.
[7/26/2011 2:00:23 AM] Morningstar: Do you want OUT of the Cage?
[7/26/2011 2:00:49 AM] Elaine: Um. Yes? But there's not much I can do that wouldn't make me a fucking fugitive.
[7/26/2011 2:01:08 AM] Morningstar: Do you want me to come GET you out of the Cage?
[7/26/2011 2:01:36 AM] Elaine: Ah-can you do that? Without getting into trouble for not murdering me?"
[7/26/2011 2:01:54 AM] Morningstar: Yes. Easily. I can say I am trying to bait Sage.
[7/26/2011 2:02:39 AM] Elaine: Thank you.
[7/26/2011 2:02:48 AM] Elaine: So, why exactly are you willing to risk your ass to do this?
[7/26/2011 2:03:00 AM] Morningstar:  I dislike seeing you like this.
[7/26/2011 2:05:11 AM] Morningstar: So anyway. Elaine. Do you want me to "rescue" you or not?
[7/26/2011 2:05:22 AM] Elaine: Yes. If you can. That would be wonderful.
[7/26/2011 2:06:56 AM] Morningstar: I'll even give you a ride in the Killdozer Lainey. How does that sound?
[7/26/2011 2:07:13 AM] Elaine: Sounds fun.
[7/26/2011 2:07:45 AM] Elaine: The only problem is, I have no idea where the fuck I am. Austin's a big place, and we might've gone somewhere else entirely.
[7/26/2011 2:08:24 AM] Morningstar: We have Resources. It is a matter of using them effectively.
[7/26/2011 2:09:37 AM] Elaine: Like what...
[7/26/2011 2:10:45 AM] Morningstar: Hmmm... I wonder if... MY GOD. I KNOW HOW TO FIND YOU LAINEY.
[7/26/2011 2:10:58 AM] Elaine: Wait. You do?
[7/26/2011 2:11:05 AM] Morningstar: Yes, I DO.
[7/26/2011 2:11:10 AM] Morningstar: It will take some time though.
[7/26/2011 2:11:19 AM] Elaine: How's that, then? Like I said, I don't even know where I am.
[7/26/2011 2:11:28 AM] Morningstar: Trust Me.
[7/26/2011 2:11:46 AM] Elaine: What, did you stick a tracking device on me at the wedding or when you jumped me?

[7/26/2011 2:12:05 AM] Elaine: I... thanks. And... Um. Make it look like you're taking me hostage or something? Otherwise I might get arrested later.
[7/26/2011 2:12:20 AM] Morningstar: Well OBVIOUSLY. My Slender-Tracker. That I got from the Slendermobile inside my Slendercave. No. Not a tracking device.
[7/26/2011 2:12:42 AM] Morningstar: Of course you will be my hostage.
[7/26/2011 2:12:47 AM] Elaine: Heh, that would be pretty sweet
[7/26/2011 2:12:51 AM] Morningstar: We Do actually have a Slendercave.
[7/26/2011 2:13:03 AM] Morningstar: Several.
[7/26/2011 2:13:08 AM] Elaine: Um.  What.
[7/26/2011 2:13:46 AM] Morningstar: Of course. We are well funded and have lots of Flamboyant Rich Maniacs
[7/26/2011 2:14:16 AM] Elaine: Fair enough
[7/26/2011 2:14:25 AM] Elaine: You mean like that Rhodes douchecanoe?
[7/26/2011 2:14:37 AM] Morningstar: Sort of. Most are more competent.
[7/26/2011 2:14:51 AM] Elaine: Ooooh, fair enough.

Happy Birthday to Me?

I'm not entirely sure how, but August found out that yesterday was my birthday. I'm twenty four. I didn't much feel like celebrating.

I'd honestly hoped I could get by without people knowing. The only people other than me who should have known were Cam and Jake, and they're not exactly around to tell people about it. I don't... Cam always made a big deal about it. Every year, no matter where I was, where he was, he'd make sure to do everything he could to make my birthday special. Even when he didn't know where I was, he'd call me and keep me on the phone for hours, talking to me and trying to brighten my day. I... My birthday was always the day I spent with him. So, I kind of hoped to forget it this year.

But. August threw a party. And it was all of us here at the house, and there was enough food to feed a family for a week and he was just so pleased with it. I couldn't say no. And it... it almost felt nice. Even with Doc drinking two feet from me and making me ache with the need for a glass. Because it almost felt like being part of a family again.

Of course, it didn't last. We hadn't even gotten past August's appetizers when Spencer bolted. I followed. We both saw something. I... I don't want to talk about it.

August, I'm sorry we ruined your dinner. It was delicious, I just...
I need to be alone for a while. You know where to find me if you need me.