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.

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.

Let Me Show You

I want to show you all what I see. Because giving you a sweeping overview isn't the same as showing you conversations, interactions that we had that made me trust him, made me care.

This was the first point where I started really trusting him. An IM conversation from the night after Cam died. He messaged me.  We'd been talking for a couple weeks, but the fact that he messaged me to comfort me? That was the point right there where he became a dear friend instead of just someone I talked to.

[7/24/2011 4:57:37 AM] Morningstar: Do you think that there is an afterlife. For good people?
[7/24/2011 4:58:21 AM] Elaine: No. I'd like to think there is, but... no. God and the afterlife are just fairy tales we tell ourselves to try and keep from being afraid of the dark.
[7/24/2011 4:58:57 AM] Morningstar: I see.
[7/24/2011 5:01:05 AM] Morningstar: I believe... With all my heart, mind and soul... That there is a life after death. And that Cam is there... With the few others worthy of going to Paradise.
[7/24/2011 5:02:18 AM] Elaine: You believe in heaven? Not to be rude... but how could someone do what you do and believe in heaven and hell?
[7/24/2011 5:03:00 AM] Morningstar: It feels right to me. I can tell when things do not feel right. "Father"...
[7/24/2011 5:03:19 AM] Morningstar: Morningstar says Father with a hint of hate
[7/24/2011 5:03:26 AM] Morningstar: ... For example.
[7/24/2011 5:03:39 AM] Morningstar: But Heaven has always felt different to me.
[7/24/2011 5:03:44 AM] Elaine: Then why...
[7/24/2011 5:04:28 AM] Morningstar: When I read about it, hear of it... I believe it. Despite logic telling me otherwise. I know it to be true, without any evidence. And that is strangely... All the evidence I need.
[7/24/2011 5:04:45 AM] Morningstar: I will never go there of course.
[7/24/2011 5:05:34 AM] Elaine: I wish I had your faith. But I can't. I just can't. Not after... But um. Thank you.
[7/24/2011 5:05:48 AM] Elaine: I fucking hope you're right.
[7/24/2011 5:05:54 AM] Morningstar: I know I am right.
[7/24/2011 5:06:11 AM] Morningstar: Nevertheless. Vengeance is required.
[7/24/2011 5:06:19 AM] Elaine: Yes. Of course.
[7/24/2011 5:07:03 AM] Elaine: Your side... enhanced him, so it won't be easy. But I'll do it if it kills me. And yes that's the only time you'll ever hear those words out of my mouth.
[7/24/2011 5:07:37 AM] Morningstar: If he so much as scratches you, I am going to send him to hell myself.
[7/24/2011 5:07:59 AM] Elaine:  Thanks.
[7/24/2011 5:08:27 AM | Edited 5:08:36 AM] Morningstar: Much as part of me wants to. I cannot kill you, or let you be killed.
[7/24/2011 5:08:40 AM] Elaine:  Yeah. Same here.
[7/24/2011 5:09:07 AM] Morningstar: Kindness is a rare thing, I have found.
[7/24/2011 5:09:37 AM] Elaine: Yeah. Cam was... He was unique.
[7/24/2011 5:09:59 AM] Elaine: He knew. About me? What I am. He didn't care.
[7/24/2011 5:10:29 AM] Morningstar: Indeed. Naive. Stupid. A complete moron when it comes to the ways of the world. That is obvious. But he was more worthy of living than you or I. Especially Me.
[7/24/2011 5:10:58 AM] Elaine: Don't kid yourself, I'm as big a monster as you. Maybe more, because I trick so many of them into thinking I'm not.
[7/24/2011 5:11:32 AM] Morningstar: No. You are a better monster. More effective. But not as evil.
[7/24/2011 5:11:43 AM] Elaine: Heh, thanks.
[7/24/2011 5:12:05 AM] Morningstar: This does not mean I cannot kick your ass if I wanted to, mind you.
[7/24/2011 5:12:16 AM] Elaine: But you don't know the first thing about my past to make that value judgement.
[7/24/2011 5:12:27 AM] Elaine:  Right.
[7/24/2011 5:12:37 AM] Elaine: We're a lot more alike than you think.
[7/24/2011 5:12:46 AM] Morningstar: Sadly. Cam reminded me of...
[7/24/2011 5:12:59 AM] Elaine: Of?
[7/24/2011 5:13:24 AM] Elaine: Of who?
[7/24/2011 5:13:33 AM] Morningstar: My... Brother.
[7/24/2011 5:13:48 AM] Morningstar: The same naive stupidity.
[7/24/2011 5:14:40 AM] Elaine: What... what really happened? If you don't want to answer, you don't have to. But...I'll trade you a story for a story.
[7/24/2011 5:15:06 AM] Morningstar: What happened with my brother? You mean his death? Or his life?
[7/24/2011 5:15:19 AM] Elaine: The two seem like they would go together.
[7/24/2011 5:16:09 AM] Morningstar: He was the favorite. Obviously. Suffered none of the indignities I faced. Never scolded, babied... Got everything he ever wanted.
[7/24/2011 5:16:51 AM] Morningstar: Yet. He was seemingly the first person who did not consider me trash.
[7/24/2011 5:16:58 AM] Morningstar: Brothers after all.
[7/24/2011 5:17:32 AM] Morningstar: Of course, the few times he tried to do anything to improve my situation, I was punished for it.
[7/24/2011 5:17:40 AM] Elaine: Ouch
[7/24/2011 5:18:08 AM] Morningstar: He was something of an out-doors lover as well. Hated being cooped up in his room.
[7/24/2011 5:18:32 AM] Morningstar: So I had to serve as a "Protector" when Mother and Father were too busy.
[7/24/2011 5:18:40 AM] Elaine: Mhm
[7/24/2011 5:19:45 AM] Morningstar: And then one day, after a beating and a scolding, I witnessed him get a new present. A Boat thing. To play with in the nearby lake.
[7/24/2011 5:20:01 AM] Elaine: ...
[7/24/2011 5:20:30 AM] Morningstar: And then my first murder happened. And to this day, the only one I really regret.
[7/24/2011 5:20:49 AM] Elaine: Did you do it on purpose?
[7/24/2011 5:21:06 AM] Morningstar: Yes. And No.
[7/24/2011 5:21:20 AM | Edited 5:21:29 AM] Morningstar: Anger is a terrible thing.
[7/24/2011 5:21:31 AM] Elaine: Ah. That I can understand.
[7/24/2011 5:22:10 AM] Morningstar: I remember my unhappiness. Then I remember watching the light leave his eyes.
[7/24/2011 5:22:31 AM] Morningstar: And I broke that stupid boat too.
[7/24/2011 5:22:49 AM] Elaine: I'm sorry.
[7/24/2011 5:23:09 AM] Morningstar: You are the only one.
[7/24/2011 5:23:32 AM] Elaine: Like I said. We're more alike than you think.
[7/24/2011 5:23:53 AM] Morningstar: Perhaps. Your turn.
[7/24/2011 5:25:53 AM] Elaine: I'll admit right now, when I was little I had everything. My parents were well off, and they spoiled me. For eight years I was the picture of a happy child. And then things changed
[7/24/2011 5:27:25 AM] Elaine: I was told later that I was a sociopath, that I had multiple personalities. Some people never did believe what really happened. But kids started disappearing, and they were all kids that I wasn't exactly happy with. I still remember some of them, whatever people have told me.
[7/24/2011 5:28:50 AM] Elaine: My parents never believed it was me. Until they did. And then they were gone too. It's strange. I don't... I don't remember them at all. But they found me with the bodies all the same. That's how I ended up getting Prosper after me. They sent me to an asylum. Because ten year old girls don't just kill their parents.
[7/24/2011 5:29:17 AM] Elaine: As it turns out, that asylum has Prosper working for it. And he's going after everyone he knew while he worked there.
[7/24/2011 5:29:38 AM] Elaine: So, It's pretty directly my fault that Cam's dead. And I can't tell anyone.
[7/24/2011 5:29:47 AM] Morningstar: Who is Prosper? Really.
[7/24/2011 5:29:48 AM] Elaine: Because WHAT WOULD THEY SAY?
[7/24/2011 5:30:14 AM] Elaine: He used to be an orderly. I don't know what happened since then. I just know he showed up and started taunting Shady.
[7/24/2011 5:31:19 AM] Morningstar: I am sorry. I truly am.
[7/24/2011 5:31:22 AM] Elaine: So, you could've been right all along.
[7/24/2011 5:31:52 AM] Elaine: Maybe I am just a sociopath.
[7/24/2011 5:32:08 AM] Morningstar: You aren't. I am sure of that.
[7/24/2011 5:32:21 AM] Elaine: Thanks.
[7/24/2011 5:32:41 AM] Morningstar: Prosper will pay. Dearly.
[7/24/2011 5:33:16 AM] Elaine: Definitely.
[7/24/2011 5:33:39 AM] Morningstar: I will do what... I can... To help.
[7/24/2011 5:34:02 AM] Elaine: That... thank you.
[7/24/2011 5:35:11 AM] Morningstar: Hahaha. Strange. Becoming a Slave to Him has lead to me gaining... A Friend.
[7/24/2011 5:36:11 AM] Elaine: I wish there was something I could do... about the slave bit. The friend bit I'm pretty happy with.
[7/24/2011 5:36:41 AM] Morningstar: I chose the Slave bit. He is a better "Father" than my actual Father after all.
[7/24/2011 5:37:06 AM] Elaine: That doesn't make him a good one. And I don't want to see you killed because of a poor career choice.
[7/24/2011 5:37:40 AM] Morningstar: It does make him better. He is a lot better than most humans I have met. Most.
[7/24/2011 5:38:09 AM] Elaine: You deserved a lot better than you got. You know that, right?
[7/24/2011 5:38:37 AM] Morningstar: Doubtful.
[7/24/2011 5:39:26 AM] Elaine:  No, but just think about it for a moment. Imagine how different this all could've turned out if you hadn't had slime for parents.
[7/24/2011 5:39:59 AM] Morningstar: You'll have to forgive me. That is a bit hard for me to imagine.
[7/24/2011 5:40:19 AM] Elaine: I guess that's fair.
[7/24/2011 5:40:32 AM] Morningstar: In a way... I think you have had it far worse than me.
[7/24/2011 5:40:46 AM] Elaine:  Heh. How do you figure?
[7/24/2011 5:40:58 AM] Morningstar: You know what you lost. I have no idea what I have never had.
[7/24/2011 5:41:16 AM] Morningstar: Makes it easier I guess.
[7/24/2011 5:42:51 AM] Elaine: I... I still wish you would've had the chance. Even for just a little while. To know what it is to really be loved like that. To have a family.
[7/24/2011 5:43:39 AM] Morningstar: Perhaps. Might have been nice for a while. But I can't help but feel I deserved this somehow. Or that it was Fated.
[7/24/2011 5:44:53 AM] Elaine: You deserve happiness a lot more than most people. And if that's fate, then whoever's pulling the strings up there is a douchebag.
[7/24/2011 5:45:34 AM] Morningstar: I certainly don't deserve happiness at this point.
[7/24/2011 5:46:40 AM] Elaine: And you think I do? You never had a fair shot. I screwed up the one I had.
[7/24/2011 5:47:46 AM] Morningstar: Well. I think about the time I severed an infants head, lit it on fire and played baseball with it, I began to live up to expectations.
[7/24/2011 5:48:01 AM] Morningstar: Wonder if Mother and Father are proud of me.
[7/24/2011 5:48:30 AM] Elaine: Um. That was... I've done shit like that too...
[7/24/2011 5:48:52 AM] Morningstar: No... Probably not. My recent fuck-ups would probably have earned me a nice beating.
[7/24/2011 5:49:42 AM] Elaine: They were douchebags and they're better off gone. They don't have to matter anymore.
[7/24/2011 5:50:46 AM] Morningstar: Yet they do. I am living proof of their work. Lots of Scars serve as reminders. It's lovely.
[7/24/2011 5:51:42 AM] Morningstar: On the plus side, thanks to them, I can take a beating that would kill lesser men.
[7/24/2011 5:51:53 AM] Elaine: That's not...
[7/24/2011 5:51:58 AM] Elaine: I'm sorry.
[7/24/2011 5:52:17 AM] Morningstar: As I said. You are the only one.
[7/24/2011 5:52:32 AM] Elaine: Well then I'm damn glad I'm here.
[7/24/2011 5:53:10 AM] Morningstar: I doubt your boyfriend is sorry. I somewhat doubt he would even give a damn about my past.
[7/24/2011 5:53:43 AM] Elaine: I honestly don't know. He might. But I think the whole trying to kill his friends thing made you a bit of a blind spot.
[7/24/2011 5:54:09 AM] Elaine: I dunno. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother keeping up appearances.
[7/24/2011 5:55:04 AM] Morningstar: There is about no reason. It is kind odd though. I try to kill you and your friends, and you don't mind. I try to kill Sage's, and suddenly we are mortal enemies.
[7/24/2011 5:58:00 AM] Elaine: I keep up appearances because they're the only allies I have, and no offense, I don't fancy my odds on your side. Plus... I want to be better. It's insane and pointless, but I don't WANT to be a killer for the rest of my life. It's a bit too late for that, I guess. As for the rest, if you actually made a serious attempt on one of the few people I cared about, before you became one of them? We wouldn't be here right now.But you never really did. I can't blame him for being protective of his friends. So long as he doesn't try to kill you, there's no real conflict. He lets me do my own thing when you're involved.
[7/24/2011 5:58:12 AM] Elaine: Lets me is the wrong word. He doesn't mind if I do my own thing.
[7/24/2011 5:58:28 AM] Elaine: That makes it sound worse than it is.
[7/24/2011 5:58:57 AM] Morningstar: Hehehe. Do you really love him?
[7/24/2011 5:59:34 AM] Elaine: Love him? No. But I could. We've barely known each other for a month. You know enough of my history to know why I wouldn't let that happen.
[7/24/2011 5:59:57 AM] Morningstar: I didn't think so. You want to avoid hurting him?
[7/24/2011 6:00:41 AM] Elaine: That too. But mostly I'll be damned if I put myself in a position where someone can hurt ME like Mark did. I made sure he never would again, I'm not about to let anyone else do the same.
[7/24/2011 6:01:01 AM] Elaine: Not that I think he would, but... It's better to be safe.
[7/24/2011 6:01:27 AM] Morningstar: Understood. You know you are going to destroy him when the truth comes out, right?
[7/24/2011 6:02:33 AM] Elaine: I don't see any reason that it should come out. If that changes, I'll tell him myself. It's not like he instantly gets the right to know everything about me because we went on a date.
[7/24/2011 6:02:58 AM] Morningstar: The truth always comes out sooner or later.
[7/24/2011 6:03:18 AM] Elaine: I guess so. You going to keep trying to encourage it along?
[7/24/2011 6:03:27 AM] Morningstar: No.
[7/24/2011 6:03:41 AM] Elaine: Thank you.
[7/24/2011 6:03:52 AM] Morningstar: Frankly I don't give a damn about Sage in the least. But hurting him is hurting you.
[7/24/2011 6:04:07 AM] Elaine: As far as I know, you're the only one alive anymore that knows the truth. Other than me.
[7/24/2011 6:04:47 AM] Morningstar: What an honor. I can practically assure you I will not be alive much longer though.
[7/24/2011 6:05:01 AM] Elaine: Don't say that. We'll think of something.
[7/24/2011 6:05:16 AM] Morningstar: Death is the only way out.
[7/24/2011 6:05:55 AM] Elaine: I thought you were the one who believes in afterlifes. An eternity of torment doesn't really seem like an 'out'.
[7/24/2011 6:06:22 AM | Edited 6:06:28 AM] Morningstar: Out of the frying pan. Into the hellfire.
[7/24/2011 6:06:40 AM] Elaine: Yeah. That doesn't seem like an improvement.
[7/24/2011 6:06:50 AM] Morningstar: It won't be. But it is too late now.
[7/24/2011 6:07:20 AM] Elaine: There HAS to be something we can do.
[7/24/2011 6:08:02 AM] Morningstar: No. There does not have to be. Not everything is mortal. Killable. Beatable.
[7/24/2011 6:08:46 AM] Elaine: DAMMIT STAR I'M NOT GIVING UP ON YOU. I'm not losing you too. Not now.
[7/24/2011 6:09:21 AM] Morningstar: No. Not now. In the coming weeks... Perhaps.
[7/24/2011 6:10:12 AM] Elaine: No. We're going to think of something becase I'm a selfish cunt who refuses to give up another friend so soon after Cam. You understand?
[7/24/2011 6:11:20 AM] Morningstar: Hahaha. Careful Lainey. You may be starting to forget priority number one. Your Survival.
[7/24/2011 6:12:48 AM |Elaine: Fuck survival. I have a list. It's a very small list. It has everyone whom I would actually risk my life to protect. Cam's name was on it. So is yours.
[7/24/2011 6:13:14 AM] Elaine: Everyone else can go fuck themselves, but the people on the list are my priority.
[7/24/2011 6:13:40 AM] Morningstar: Ha. Sadly, the people on that list have their own lists. Guess who's name is on them?
[7/24/2011 6:14:15 AM] Morningstar: I am certain Cam is happy it was him and not you or Jake.
[7/24/2011 6:15:37 AM] Elaine: Yeah, well, from what I can tell he never woke up to be happy about it. I've wasted my second chance. And my third. Everyone on my list deserves another chance more than I.
[7/24/2011 6:16:25 AM] Morningstar: You have not murdered infants and decorated their cribs with their entrails.
[7/24/2011 6:17:39 AM] Elaine: No, but I have murdered kids only a few years older than that.  I started kiling before I hit puberty. YEARS before I hit puberty. I've done a lot of bad things since then. I CONTINUE to do bad things, because apparently that's all I'm really good for.
[7/24/2011 6:18:17 AM] Morningstar: Yet you also do good things. Unlike myself.
[7/24/2011 6:18:47 AM] Elaine: Yep. I do plenty of good. Which will all be undone when they find out the truth about me.
[7/24/2011 6:20:59 AM] Elaine: This is it, I have to go. I hope I survive to see you again, Star.
[7/24/2011 6:21:36 AM] Morningstar: You will. And when you do, I am afraid I am going to have to kick your ass for making me get all weepy.
[7/24/2011 6:21:59 AM] Elaine: Of course. G'bye Star.
[7/24/2011 6:22:06 AM] Morningstar: Goodbye.

Waiting

First thing's first. Spencer wanted me to tell you all that he admits to being the one who changed Jake's Loop to being a life with Cam. He feels guilty about it, but all he wanted to do was give him happiness after the Loop had already broken him. I don't blame him. He doesn't know who put him there or busted him out.

So, after that, I really... I'm not sure what to say. So much of my life has been hiding and fighting my past. It feels fucking weird to have it just... laid out like that. And honestly perhaps a little dangerous? Considering the amount of people that are after me. But with any luck they'll get distracted chasing each other down.

I guess if it had to happen, I'm glad it happened here. August and Spencer have been a huge help.  And the House is good for distractions. I did more exploring. Still looking for the room the key opens.

And I found it. I must've passed that door a hundred times before, but it was kind of in a strange spot and I hadn't noticed it before. Blame the detox or something. But today I saw it and noticed the bronze of the lock matched my key, and gave it a go. It worked.

When I stepped into the room, the first thing I noticed was color, everywhere. The furniture, just a bed, a dresser, and a bookshelf full of art supplies, was all pushed together awkwardly into the middle of the room to leave every inch of wall space free. The walls were covered in art. Hundreds of pictures covering every possible inch of wall space. It was beautiful and somewhat horrifying.

I admit, I just kind of stared for a while. I stepped into the room , to the middle of the floor, next to the bed, and I turned, slowly, and tried to make sense of all of it. And slowly but surely, I did. It was a story.

It started on the far wall from the door, the first one a person would see from the doorway. The pictures were all muted, quiet pastels. It told the story of a kid as she grew up, broken and alone and probably abused, judging by the pictures. The wall is dominated by a large picture of two adults towering outrageously over a child literally something like a tenth of their size, who is crying and holding a doll. There's a dent in the wall over both of the older figure's heads-I'm guessing she liked to throw things at them when frustrated. Over the course of the wall the child grows up, and you can see her bruises and tears and failures, as well as her rare success-most notably a triptych of the girl learning to paint, the happiest picture on the wall. The last panel was an older woman lying in a hospital bed, either asleep or dead. Judging by the rest of the story, I have little doubt it's the latter

It continued to the right, on the next wall. It starts with the girl getting to college, taking classes in art-including a very intricate painting of an entire life drawing class with a model and a room full of students. For the first time people other than the girl-turned-woman are painted in a positive fashion, without the shadows or looming presence. A man figures prominently towards the end of the college days, and there are happy scenes of the two of them together. Dates periodically, then a wedding, and the most prominent picture of the wall, the two of them beaming and holding a baby. At first glance, it seemed perfectly happy, and then I started paying more attention. The picture of the three of them has worn and smudged bits on the face of the man-specifically the lips, and along the outline of the baby. As though someone had been stroking them. Perhaps even kissing them, considering the wear on the lips.
In addtion, after that picture subtle operator symbols show up all over the place. Shaded into shadows, starbursted into reflections, anywhere and everywhere it can be worked in, it is. This wall ends with a painting of an empty crib covered in blood.

The next wall, the wall with the door, told a story we all know too well. Mad, smudged charcoal sketches of  Slendershit and operator symbols intermingle with scenes of horror and dread. The only two colors on this wall are the black of the charcoal and the red of some kind of paint. The pictures depict the woman and her husband running hard and fast, but a third of the way through, the most prominent picture is of slendershit luring the man to him. This picture also has dents, and seems to have been drawn with a hand that's far more shaky than most of the other drawings. He shows up again halfway down wearing a mask. It's clear he's hunting her down.
The wall ends in his bloody corpse on the ground, with her holding a knife, covered in blood and looking horrified.

The last wall has two equally prominent main pictures. The first and the last. The first is a picture of Spencer and Doc talking to the woman. There are various pictures of the House, other couriers-mostly ones I recognize, but a few I didn't. Most of the ones I didn't recognize had a graphic and detailed portrait of their death-though how accurate the portraits are, I can't say. The portraits play through the death and arrival of a lot of couriers-whoever this woman was, she seems to have been here for a while.
She uses more and more color over the course of painting the pictures on this wall, though she never paints herself with color again. Until the last painting on the wall. The other big one. It's her corpse, with slit wrists, sprawled on her bed.
Upon closer inspection, though there's no mattress on the bedframe anymore, there's blood splatter on the frame itself.

This woman painted her life and her death on the walls. I don't even know her name, but my heart aches for her. I wonder if Spence had any idea that the key went to this room...
I just had to get this out of my head. I need to go find Spencer and talk to him.

The Wing

Apparently I've hit the time limit on being allowed to relax, though I guess some of this, at least, is my fault. 

To start with the first thing, I guess, I woke up way early this morning to go try something I've been wanting to attempt since I first started making plans to come to the house. It was potentially life threatening, reckless, stupid, and insane, but since when has that ever stopped me?

So I woke up and slipped through a certain set of doors into the East Wing in the early morning hours. For those of you who don't read their blog, it has been described as a nightmare zone with twisting, changing corridors and apparently some kind of supernatural effect on people even outside of it. Now, Slendershit aside, I'm not exactly a big believer in the supernatural, but I figured there had to be something.

I don't know what I expected, after the crazy stories that have been told about it. What I definitely didn't expect was what I found. A couple of long, dusty corridors. A lot of empty rooms. Nothing at all of interest. I don't fucking get it.

The place is supposed to be nightmare inducing... not sneeze inducing. I kept looking, I checked every fucking room, looking for something that would explain it. I didn't find anything, but Spencer found me. He seemed amused, which pissed me right the fuck off. By the time he showed up, I'd worked myself up about it, I guess, because for a moment I thought I actually saw something. But it went away quickly and upon reflection it wasn't even the same sort of hallucination that people tend to associate with the Wing.

Spence wouldn't tell me shit, and so when he left I went to talk to August. The kid tried his best to be helpful, and it's clear he really believed what he was telling me, but... that shit doesn't just happen. I'm finding it more likely that there was a gas leak or something that Spencer fixed recently. Because hallways don't just move around. So that's my theory and I'm sticking to it. Sorry guys. I know you all believe this, but... you realize how insane it is, right?

In other news, it turns out my security measures for Shrody didn't even last a full day. I'm... I'm going to try and find her, try and save her, but she was taken from an airport. She could be anywhere by now... By the time I find her it may be too late, and I unfortunately have a promise to keep that means if I haven't found her within the next few days I may not be able to.

More on that promise when it's safe to discuss.

I should head out again, I think I may have offended August a little by not believing him, I should go apologize...