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Friday, 30 December 2011

Messenger's Report.

Hey, guys, you remember Avalesca Something Something Longname Farrell-Conquest, right?  That woman who quickly became a figurehead for you guys, then turned her back on you in angst after her kid’s boyfriend died?  Of course you remember her, considering you’re reading her blog and all.


Yeah, she’s dead now. Since Christmas morning.


We’ve actually had an eye on her for quite some time.  Just sitting back, biding our time.  We weren’t really worried.  No matter how combatant of a woman you are, a pregnancy is probably going to slow you down some.  So we’ve been tracking her after she left Celie’s Haven in Maryland (that was around late September, early October) as she made her way towards California.


She went into labor in Glendora, CA (allegedly while jobhunting, I think) and was taken to Foothill Presbyterian hospital.  Her trip had left her malnourished and exhausted, which complicated the situation.  In addition to that, The Boss showed up inside her hospital room, shocking her to the point that her heart gave out.


Her child, however, survived.  Avalesca, knowing the possibility of the complications that took her life, told a nurse in advance to name the child Michelle.  Michelle currently only has a small chance of surviving the birth complications, and will most likely remain in the hospital for several months.  We’re uncertain who the child’s guardian(s) will be.  If none are found, she may be put up for adoption, but either way, it doesn’t really matter.


Blog’s over, people.  Nothing to see here.  Move along.


-Don’t Shoot The Messenger-

Sunday, 4 December 2011

Saturday, 11 June 2011

We're at Celie's Haven place. I don't like the idea of the Panic Room, it seems too much like some kind of Death Box to me...

My emotions are roughly back on the track they had been once. I am no longer the harpy I was after Redlight fucked me over. I miss Ray, but I can't mourn him again. It's almost like there is no emotional grasp there anymore. I barely even remember it, it all seems so long ago.

Slenders has been in my dreams recently. Always at the end of the hallway. The hallway I'm speaking about is the one directly outside of my room, you see...

Tony is recovering...I was shocked to see his state, actually. But I've been teasing him about getting an eyepatch and quoting Pirates of the Caribbean at him.

I don't think he's amused.

Not a lot amuses us now. Though Celie has been talking about the feathers in her hair recently. I sometimes catch her looking at me like she's going to pounce and fasten several to my head.

I got Balth back when I was in Egypt. Quarantine let me take him through to America without stalling.

I have what I went there for. It's in my room, hidden from everyone. Even Him.

I don't really know what else to say...I haven't written here in a long long time.

I'm so tired.

Sunday, 29 May 2011

Tony?


Not to impede on your ever-so-busy schedule, but if you could answer your phone when it rings, that would be 
ΓΌber-helpful.


You know, when the little rectangle makes with the flashy and beepy?


Because I can't hang around at this airport for the rest of my life, which, judging from my darling Anorexic Associate milling around outside, could be in the next hour or so.

Friday, 29 April 2011

I swore to myself that I wouldn’t fucking post here again. On this stupid blog. But I can’t just leave it and there’s no-one left to help me record things.

Ray is dead. I can’t process it. I can’t believe it. It’s so open ended... We were in the Magna, one of us keeping an eye on the entrance at all times, when we heard voices. Ray knew who they were straight off the bat, shoved me out of the way and stood infront of me. I scrabbled around a little before getting to my feet and seeing the two. Eulogy and Hammer. I knew their names from Ray's introduction I guess you could say it was. It was more of a mock casual greeting, I guess.

Of course then we turned tail and ran like hell, because I'm pregnant and Ray's human. It didn't work. Like, at all. When Ray'd shoved me out of the way, the two of us lost sight of the entrance. So it wasn't there. Like a fucking Weeping Angel. It buggered off the second it could. And of course the other two were like fucking Olympic sprinters and that bloody moron had to go and be chivalrous and tell me to "Run as he held them off." I really wanted to hit him then. But I realised something. I'm thinking for two. I can't be so reckless anymore. I can't...stand up for myself.

So I let him. I let him "Fend them off" while I fled like fucking Brave Sir Robin.

I had an enjoyable half hour/hour/month/decade trying to find the entrance again, because my senses were skewing themselves left right and center. I could smell and taste things that weren't there, feel things, see things. But I found it. I think it's more a case of wanting it and knowing that this is how the place works. I didn't exit though. I just sort of...hung about in the gap. I think I heard gunshots at a point, but it was so echoey and merely dropping a pencil could get that loud after a while...

Ray came stumbling out from a corner a way away about an hour later, something like that. His arm was bleeding heavily and he was clutching it, when he saw me he smiled a little and

And then there was this thick fog behind him and it made the air smell so strongly you could taste it. It tasted like novocaine.

The fog solidified into tentacles and thrashed around the narrow corridor we were in, I only realised that they'd pulled Ray back into the fog, where I couldn't see him after a minute. I think the fog did more than just TASTE like novocaine. I think they really did numb you...to your own brain screaming at you to flee.

He was screaming, Tony. He was fucking screaming his lungs out. And I felt rain on my face. I ran. I turned and fucking ran for my life, for my baby's life, for my sanity...

He can't be dead. It's too open-ended.

Even though I know he is, because I have Ray’s blood on my face.

I can’t wash it off. In some strange way it’s all I have left of him, so instead I’m left staring at myself in the mirror over the sink, hands bracing themselves for when I throw up. I never do. I’m too numb still. I don’t know if this has something to do with my coma, Redlight's fucking about in my head and it’s repercussions on my emotions, or if believing Ray dead once before was all my mind and body could take. Now it’s happened a second time and I can’t even think anything other than white noise. There’s nothing in my head. Usually there’s something in my mind, something going about, something that needs testing or doing or going to. I just can’t think like that right now, but there’s no grief either. I honestly don’t think I can mourn Ray again.

It fucked me up too much the first time round.

So I’ll stand at my mirror and stare at the blood on my face, and sometime soon , I’ll wash it off. I’ll say a final goodbye.

And then I'll be damned if I don't reassess my priorities. Because I’m staying in Egypt now.

My Anorexic Associate didn't just rip out Ray's heart.

...I found this when I went to post this on Ray's blog. He seems to have written it a few weeks ago. Stupid soppy cunt. (His fucking password was "spesproreliquo", for fuck's sake.)

--------

Ava, I know things have been difficult between us in the past few weeks and I'm sorry that I haven't been able to help you as much as I wish I could. I wrote this for you in case I died before I could help you get through all this. I know it's not much, but it's from my heart, and, in the end, that's all I can leave you. I love you, Ava. I always will.

No Reply

by Raymond Shaughnessy

If you can read this, you lost me somewhere,
But I'll always be with you, so do not despair,
I left you this poem, I knew you would find it,
I hoped you would read it and would be reminded

Of all that we shared, the laughter and tears,
Of all we confronted, the pain and the fears,
Of all we defeated, the chances and odds,
As we danced on the thunder and taunted the gods.

I'm guessing you're crying; it's good for your health
But don't turn the dark feelings in on your self.
I am at peace and you should be too,
And maybe, who knows, I can watch over you.

I cannot promise that I felt no pain,
That my death was as easy as watching the rain.
It may have been gruesome, it probably hurt,
But as long as you're living, my death has some worth.

I know that you miss me and I miss you too
But the life that I gave gave some more life to you.
So, please, do not weep for my final goodbye,
The silence that came when there was no reply.

Reach out.

Monday, 4 April 2011

ZEKE. ¬_¬

WHY? WHY DOES NO-ONE LISTEN TO ME? I SPEAK SENSE. JESUS H FUCKING CHRIST.


FINE. FUCKING HAVE IT. HAVE MY NOTES.




First, I have to calm down, or I will do a Fizz and start killing all of you for your idiocy. And there is NO TL;DR for this. Read it. Read it and weep.





Last time I was in Egypt, I didn’t tell the blogosphere much as to what I’d learnt due to the express wishes of Aaron however, now he’s dead, the circumstances of our agreement have changed. At the very least I have to tell you, Zeke, what I was doing last time.

Damien’s bone.

Not the self-same bone, of course. That would be retarded, but Damien said it was from a civilisation before ours and I surmised that, well, considering all aspects of the Ancient Egyptian culture along with a little Scientist’s curiosity, they simply had to have had something that they believed drove Slenderman away. It’s human nature. Of course, looking over Damien’s blog even cursorily, you realise that it didn’t exactly do much for the man in the end, but I also had a clue to go on, something tangible. Something real. Something not in doubt as to the sanity of the author.

My Egyptian encyclopaedia.

The 42 deities of the afterlife tribunal which judged the dead in the netherworld “Hall of Justice.” Each deity was responsible for a single crime which ranged from the trivial to the serious.

Two deities caught my eye as to their Titles. The other’s are all predictably things such as “Youth” or “Foreteller” or Flame.”

The two that jumped out at me were “The Pale One” and “The Bone Breaker.” Further research yielded their actual names to be “Heliopolis” and “Herakleopolis” respectively. They are from the Egypto-Greco era.

The Pale One was responsible for the crime of babbling (speaking to much and too often, generally of no consequence, ironic considering our Pale One has no mouth. But it was said that Heliopolis took the mouths of those who spoke too much as punishment) and The Bone Breaker was responsible for the crime of “Lying.”

Damien is considered to be “Lying” about a hell of a lot, considering his last ever post and the things his apparent brother said.

So now we have these two things, enough for me to close the book and get my arse in gear and over to Egypt. There I found out that the good Doctor had met a terrible fate and his son, Aaron, had taken over his post. Of course, there followed the spectacular stonewalling I was subject to thanks to Aaron’s insistence that I had no idea what I was getting into.

I glossed over everything we found that time at midnight, in the middle of the Egyptian desert, in the unmarked areas.

The good Doctor had found a bone, similar, but not exact, in the description that Damien had given. It wasn’t as tribal for starters, in fact, it was Egyptian (shocker). But the very fact of him finding such a coincidental thing is overshadowed by his other two discoveries.

He found this bone, henceforth referred to as Bone(E), in a Labyrinth. Not in the sense of the Mind, but in all actuality. He went a little way into the Labyrinth he’d found and came back out with the bone.

Dr McKenna was an intelligent man, even if he had no knowledge of Slenderman, he knew to keep the entrance in sight at all times while he explored. His notes on the expedition show his senses going haywire the further away from the entrance he got. He snatched the closest bounty and fled.

Dr McKenna noted everything down, the names he briefly saw and committed to memory, and the hieroglyphics that were etched into the cartouches. I trawled the internet and my other available resources (another reason I went to the Library that I didn’t tell you) and came across the closest match I could to a name.

The Bone Breaker. Herakle[opoli]s. A Bone(E) found in a Labyrinth. Slenderman stalking beginning shortly after this expedition.

Even if everything else Damien had ever said was a lie, I sincerely doubt he lied about the Bone(D).

After I gained the trust of Aaron, everything else was relatively straightforward. Until my internet searches revealed something to both unnerve and excite.


For those of you who aren’t going to follow the link due to wishing to continue with my account of things, I’ll highlight a section of text from the article.

Legend held that there was a vast labyrinth at Herakleopolis. A British archaeological team in the 1940s is rumoured to have discovered the labyrinth but were unable to complete the excavation due to illness amongst team members and the disappearance of one of the team leaders. The exact location of the labyrinth still remains a mystery”

Legend no longer. Mystery fucking Busted, buster. Not to mention the fact that Dr McKenna’s Father was the disappeared team leader and going to the co-ordinates Dr McKenna had written down brought forth an intricately carved entrance, the name of The Bone Breaker being praised to the heavens.

And what I had previously assumed to be Operator Symbols scrawled over Dr McKenna’s notes became a hell of a lot more important.


His name. His hieroglyphic name. His FUCKING name. No wonder His reactions are different every time someone bloody writes that thing, it’s his FUCKING NAME. How would you react if someone kept calling your name over and over? You’d either come to them, or leave them the fuck alone. M, I hope you’re reading this. The others are run of the mill hieroglyphics, but the Faceless Man and the Operator Symbol...

I’ll assume you found these self same  hieroglyphics, Zeke.

They didn’t just praise Slenderman/Bone Breaker/Herakle[opoli]s, they built a city to appease Him.

So now I’ve got an Ancient Egyptian Bone to collect from a safebox. And I’ve got a Physical Labyrinth to investigate ASAP. I have the co-ordinates thanks to Dr McKenna.

I’m putting this in the public domain for posterity. If I die down there (which is a major possibility) I have things set in place to get Bone(E) to you, Zeke. I have a feeling the threads are coming together, and I don’t want to be choked, but in the event that I am, you’re the best person on Earth for me to pass this investigation onto.

Of course, there’s quite a bit of time between me going into the Labyrinth, I still need to investigate the Bone(E). He doesn’t seem too happy with my being awake again. He was a lot quicker to come back and leer at me. He's here right now actually.

He scares me shitless. But I hate him too.

Hate > Fear, methinks.

Friday, 1 April 2011

Oh hello there, inhibitions and sensibilities.

Oh goodbye, inhibitions and sensibilities.

It's April First.

Today, I don't care about my image. (And Reach has one hell of a headache and I need a laugh.....oh the things I can do...)

Tuesday, 29 March 2011

So much.

So much going on. Zeke. Oh shit. Celie. Fuck I don't want to, don't make me tell you. Don't see the things. Don't GO THERE it WON'T END WELL.

Great. Now I sound like a crazy person. Sorry guys, I'm playing my cards close to my chest for this one. Slendy knocked me out for a reason. Later. Later, later, later. I hope I never have to explain.

Fuck this shit.

God my head.