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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


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

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 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. ¬_¬



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.

Friday, 11 March 2011

Seven years bad luck.

I smashed the mirror in Ray and I's room. It was necessary. I kept thinking my reflection was sneering at me. I've carved MY name, Ava, into the wall, I can always see who I really am.

My voice in my head, taunting me constantly, compelling me to just move the dresser out of the way of the door, let Ray in and gut him with the mirror shards.

Writing. I find solace in writing. I've written all over the walls, the bed...Just mundane things. My life, my present, my past, everything. My biography on bedroom walls.

You're right, of course. Red doesn't have the power to create a whole separate personality. None of you even considered the fact that I had these underlying feelings anyway, the resentment and violence. He did something, put something in me, to coax them to the surface, give them power enough to push their boundaries I set for them. You see me as this thing. This thing you can hold up and see as inspiration, or a Hero. You all seem to forget that I'm barely 18. You all seem to forget that I am barely holding my shit together, that I'm barely coherent in the flesh. Well, I was considering a way out from the constant pressure, the stress.

I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. I’m 18. I couldn’t deal with all these people looking to me as their fucking hope. So many of them, all the time, looking to me for help or guidance or an example to follow or something and every day there’s a new person, looking for help and I couldn’t deal with that all the time. I’m 18. I wanted to Test things not Hero about.

And I wondered if Red was a way out of that. Someone who I could work with who didn’t view me as a badarse or something different to what I am.

A Scientist and a Librarian.

His Rebellion was still against Slenderman. Not a real turncoat. Back to my roots. My original purpose. And I would still be working against Him. Just…in a different setting. Red had good resources too, not to mention the fact that I would get to keep a close eye on Cynthia.

I can't hate anyone or thing other than Slenderman now. I've never killed if I could help it and it pains me everytime I see a "Oooh, more Proxies to murder, fuck yeah." Post or something, but I had so much aggression. Now... I'm just…I’m so drained of everything. There are just so many Runners now and I can no longer bring myself to care wholly for all of them. A Million Is Just A Statistic now, and my Brother and Aaron have blended with the numbers of so many other people.

My anxiety breakdowns and my stress and my migraines and my nausea. It all faded without the pressure. After I realised that I didn't have to try and help everyone. After I realised that some of you really are just going to fade away and die. I've realised I need to eat normally and gain weight.

I’m not saying Red’s side is the "Good" side, but they’re both against Slenderman.

Ray, I love you. That hadn't changed, odd. The one thing I kept with me is the one thing that's being used against you. I was arrogant enough to think that Red wanted me, but he just wanted to get to you.

Do you think we could get to Ireland? Spender's there and I've just realised that your daughter is probably in terrible danger.

I have Aaron's and Carl's work at the forefront of my mind, currently.

Zeke. Your concern was touching. Celie, our emails and your friendship is something both horrible and amazing.

I was going to be a Mother once…

I’ve always loved children…

Ardelia Lortz is not the actual name of the thing inside me. It's me. Pure and simple, it's just another part of me. Another facet. I gave it a name. I can address it and it will answer. I will get it out of me, or under control. But I'm going to have to figure something out about the feeling of being an unwilling mole in our family. The sense off someone using my eyes will have to be dealt with one way or another.

And then this morning, I woke up to Japan. I've worn out this phone, texting  so much money to the Red Cross. Ardelia hates me for it, but I don't care.

I'm so disjointed...I'm just rambling now, but I feel calmer.

Wednesday, 9 March 2011

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I'm so, so sorry, Ray. But it's not good for me to be around you guys for the moment. And I'm sorry, Thage for your dresser's sake, but it's the only thing I can think of to keep the door closed.

Ray, the nightmare last night...I realised something. I was looking at a mirror and called myself  "Ardelia Lortz."

Of course I did. The correlations...I feel like Naomi and Ardelia, and I've found my liquorice, Ray. The thing that makes Ardelia scream in utter fucking terror and anger.

I can't talk to you, she hates that, tries to kill you. The only reason I haven't is sheer fucking willpower. But I can type. I can read. I don't know how to get rid of that feeling everytime I look around of someone using my eyes, I don't know how to stop myself from sneering at you, but I know how to shut the voice the fuck up.

I love you. Please, god, don't doubt that.

Sunday, 6 March 2011

I apologise,

For my lack of posting.

I've been so lethargic lately, it hardly seems feasible for me to get out of bed sometimes.

I feel a little better today, I haven't bolted to the bathroom to throw up yet anyway.

No, Red didn't feed me anything or inject me with anything at all. I don't...I don't exactly know what he did to me. I remember that he took me, I remember most things, I hope. I think it was just the place he took me that was perfectly fine. There's the Path Of Black Leaves and then, I guess, there's The Other Side, which seems far more averagely pressurised....He still did something though...I'm not sure what...

I don't know anymore. I don't trust my mind. I mean, I'm not losing time, I don't have gaps in my memory, I know I'm not a Redlight...

But there's this underlying, constant feeling that there's someone else in me. Always. Watching. Through my eyes. And I'm seeing Him out of the corner of my eyes, even though I know that Thage's place is "safe."

And Ray is a topic of much confusion for me.

I love him. But Red hates him. And Red is very...persuasive. I've got cuts I can't remember getting...

I feel sick when I look at Ray. There's this horrible churning feeling of pure hatred and complete devotion constantly vying for control. It's like there's a parasite in my mind, telling me what I should be thinking even when I know I'm not going to think it.

And so much happened while I was gone? Jeff? Can some please explain what the hell has happened to everyone while I was...there?

I've started microblogging too, therapy in a manner. It shuts the second voice up if I write down my answers and contradictions.

I'm still SO TIRED. Urgh god.

EDIT: Cheska! you're alive! How wonderful to see you, but how terrible you're alone.

Tensor...I don't trust you. And I shan't trust you. Ever. Your 'story' is far too...just no. I don't believe you. And after Will. Just no.

Wednesday, 2 March 2011

And how are we today, friends?

I appear to be in...Dexter, Maine.

Oh the irony.

I'll speak later, I' very tired right now.

Where are you, guys? I, I'm not in Seattle, where are you now? Can you get me? Oh god adjusting to Real World is nauseating...

Monday, 21 February 2011

I can't

Blog here.

I'll caretake until she comes back.

I did this when she was younger you know...whenever she ran away I'd keep her room exactly the same as how she left it except for a note with a heart on it and she'd always come back and stick the note on the door later.

I can't...I see that corpse everywhere...her corpse follows me...I read what she wrote, that the corpse is able to be killed. I can't kill it. It looks like my Daughter, I just can't--

Brave and his Father are amazing people. I pray for their souls daily.


Come home sweetie, I have faith.

Sunday, 20 February 2011



Could be the last day of my life, or Tony's life or Reach's life, or even Robert's.

Could also be the day that the three of us get out Robert without a single hitch in our plans.

Or something in between.

I saw what Reach carved...

I carved my own thing underneath it with my knife...

"Omis tui substructio sunt possidere ad nobis."

A message, to Redlight.

A meme made true.

My Latin is rusty, excuse me.

I think I'm giggling at my joke's hysterical and probably waking the others but, hey, I need it.

If I don't update at the end of the day, I insist every single one of you takes a shot of brandy in my memory. And spelling all your outpourings of emotion in the Queen's English would be a lovely touch.

Delta-Fucker is going to be hunting Tensor on the outskirts of our...thing. But if the price of his help is the P.T.C getting their hands on Robert before us and then "Handing him over to us" later, he can go fuck himself.

Catch you on the flip side, friends,


Saturday, 19 February 2011


Is the day.

We will get him out.

Cynthia, I'm sorry for your troubles, but the others can go screw themselves. I'll talk to you all I wish. I knew you before and I'll know you during too.

I hope I don't see you tomorrow, that would not be favourable circumstances. And I doubt you'd like to see your Father.

We are armed, thanks to Spender. I won't say with what, but we are. It was only to be expected, so I can say it.

And Red, don't take us for idiots. Please. Reach told us of the guys you've got around the Hospital/Asylum. They aren't the best you have, I'm sure.

We'll just have to risk it though.

For those of you interested in how my Mother is doing

Brave has her with them. Her phone is down for the moment, but I am assured that she is safe.

I just KNEW I'd be saying these four words soon...

After I met you, due to your astonishing civility and intelligence....

Just not QUITE under these circumstances where you're bending to the point of snappage and showcasing a side of you that is quite obviously your past that you cannot remember.

I mean, you're quite obviously hateful and I still want to make you hurt. But no-one should suffer from the insanity He causes.


I wish to help.

Friday, 18 February 2011

Good Lord.

I fall asleep and the world explodes.

So Brave? You're going to be sheltering my Mother? Well...I hope you're not as incompetent as our mutual friend.

Said mutual friend? Thank you for the papers, at least now I can set up a bank account.

Mother and I had a rather....emotionally exhaustive talk last night after her post, but everything is okay now. She's at a church currently, going to travel in the morning. Brave, I will hurt you if anything happens to her.

Argh, now it's all over I've got so much adrenaline running through me and I'm all shaky and bleh I feel nauseous X_X I swear I've emo'ed all over the poor blog. Thank life for the backspace button, huh?

And so begins our stakeout in the morning, I guess.


Okay. Uhm. Sweetie, Leelee?

Uhm. Do you know anyone within $20 distance from a Massachusetts bus stop in the bell-end of no-where?

And just what did you mean about "Where Were We Reach?"

I remember...a black man...dreads...I think...I think I was gagged? Or bound? Or both?

I can't remember....

But he was rather nice-looking...

I can't remember anything past London....

How the hell did I get to America?

Fuck called off, Delta's a pussy.

Ie, I let Cynthia do her thing and Him do his thing and Mother is alive and Delta shat his pants.

Now Reach, where were we?


Thursday, 17 February 2011


So she really was Mother.


The offer is kill my Mother or give over Zeke.

Fisk and Delta.

Two more people to add to my "Must Die" list.
Mother? I--

Ohgod. You see, I'm really sorry if this is actually you and I can't be all over the moon because I'm horrifyingly suspicious and I really wouldn't put it past Redlight or Slenderman to pretend to be you so I'm going to have to ask you to sign the end of your comments and then you're really going to have to convince me.

If it is you, I assure you, you'll get one hell of a greeting.

And I'm not dead or anything. Tony just gave me a...cut on the back of my head.

Wednesday, 16 February 2011

Tuesday, 15 February 2011


Cynthia is as good as Balthazar when it comes to Slender-detection.

Apparently "Daddy's Here. And he wants to play with us."

Reach and I are scouring the area outside our windows and hallway but I'll be fucked if we can actually see the bastard.

So yeah.

Not happy.

And it's not Redlight driving those people to kill themselves as a message to me.

Which begs a question that we need answered.

Come ON you coward. Tell me who you are.


Urgh. Of course I'm scared. I'm always scared, I'm like a rabbit in the headlights every damn day and I swear my heartrate is so fast I could rival a mouse. I'm stressed and nauseous and fretful but that's what happens when you're Slenderstalked I guess. The only reason I seem calm and collected is because in the internet has a backspace button.

And we need to figure out a manner in which to get Robert out before Sunday's Frontal Lobotomy. Either Reach and I or some of YOU.

Spender. I don't like you in the slightest, but I don't think Catherine Shaunessy's number would go amiss right now.

I think my moral compass is so thoroughly de-magnetised that I may be saying four words that I loathe soon enough, just so I can know.....

Those who are dying.

This is a notice to all of you.

I am sorry.

But I regret nothing.

Come on then, fuckers. I bloody dare you.

Try us.

Monday, 14 February 2011

I feel so sick right now.

Spender. Your men suck.


I just hurtled through the door and slammed it shut. Why does Reach seem to be buried behind a mountain of fast food containers?


I sat the booth for about half an hour before Redlight showed up. Cyndia was holding his hand. They looked, for all the world, like an older brother taking out his younger sister for breakfast at the Space Needle. Made a beeline for the booth I was in.

There followed about two minutes after the two of them sat down where I glared at him like I wanted him to boil into gas by just my mindpower.

Cyndia just started doodling Operator Symbols on the napkins and  asked me a few questions about myself.

"Ava, you're not going to kiss my big brother? Right? Cuz that's icky."

"Ava, what's Robert like when he's not being boring?"

"Ava, have you seen Mommy?"

ASDFGHJKL And I had to sit there and take it and smile nicely and answer politely and not swear because a part of my brain flicks around children so it becomes physically impossible for me to swear near them.

And then Redlight and I got down to business. He told me what he did to Reach....the methods of torture involved...What Slenderp did to him...

How could Slenderman twist an eleven year old to be able to laugh at these things as though they're a parlour game?

But I didn't break because, well, Reach was alive and Redlight couldn't kill me in the fucking SPACE NEEDLE so...yeah. I felt a little better.

I think I flirted with him at a point. To piss him off/play him at his own game. He actually did get me passionflowers and I did actually get him peanut brittle.

I'm ashamed to say that I'm sad he's not on our side. It would be nice to be allies on the side of...well....good. I think we'd be perfectly sarcastic to eachother.

But he offered me three choices by the time food came around.

Option A. I kill him. Right here, right now. He offered his chest to me and said that neither He nor he would not stop me from ending Redlight forever. Never to taunt another person again.

Option B. I get Cynthia back. I get to take her away from Slenderman and Redlight and everything like that. He waved a hand over Cynthia, indicating her.

Option C. I get Robert back. Redlight opens me up a doorway and I steal Robert away from the looney bin.

There followed what, if I'm honest, is one of the hardest decisions of my life. I wanted to ask an opinion but then he started counting down from ten and I started fretting so I did the first thing that came to mind.

I stabbed him through the hand with the knife I'd been cutting my steak with and nailed it to the table before grabbing Cynthia's hand and dragging her away. One of my dear friend Spender's lackeys leapt into the booth after I bolted, but I heard the sound of a Doorway opening. Redlight certainly fucked off quickly.

I bundled her into a cab the SECOND we got outside, I think I stole it from an old lady.

But I'm back in the Four Seasons. And now I've handcuffed Cynthia to the radiator and am sitting next to her to keep the REAL Cynthia company every time she breaks through. Because she is a biter and I am swiftly re-thinking my love for children.

Four Seasons, Seattle, Tony, Cathy. 1408.


I'm back.

Let's talk.

Catch you on the flip side, friends,



I'm in the red dress. At the back. The green private booth. North facing. You can see Queen Anne Hill in the distance.

Come on then.

Let's talk, you bastard.

Reach is not with me. I'm sorry to everyone saying "bring him" but honestly....after what he's been through and what he is now.... I hate leaving him alone, but in this case. It's needed. He's got the gun though. He can protect himself.

Vivi, I took your advice. Bike shorts are certainly a good thing under this....flimsy, flouncy thing. But if I'd gone up here looking like I'm waiting for someone in jeans, shirt, jacket that looks like it's concealing shit....well, I wouldn't have gotten up here.

I'm going to see what I can do about Marcus. I have no wish for any more unexpected visitors.

So what, Red? We're going to have breakfast as a three? Pretend to be Valentine's? What? Are you going to tell me all about what you did to Reach? Going to offer to wipe my mind again?

You sicken me.


You're not exactly endearing yourself to me if you leave a gun UNDER MY FUCKING PILLOW.

How do these people keep getting into our hotel room?! looks...good I guess. Not like it's going to explode in my hands if I pull the trigger....I'll leave it with Reach though, I'm not bringing a gun into a crowded area. I'm already wanted for triple homicide in London. Plus, he needs the protection now...after his new state....

And...judging by Reach's...look...


I think he's read my posts...and that comment on his blog...


Fuck you too, life.

I'm pretending to be asleep...I've phoned quarantine in Egypt. Balth arrived last night. I need to wait a week before having him sent to Seattle, so that means a week longer in Space Needle territory and the Four Seasons. Robert...I think it's best that I don't know how the hell you afford this.

Mother's will came into effect yesterday. Sudden windfall making me try not to cry. I don't think I actually have any tears left in my body. I'll need to find out how to set myself up as an American citizen and open a bank account under a false name now. And all the documentation that entails.

He's outside...just hanging about near the trees, being Him. Blending in with the other people apart from being about ten feet tall and having no face.

I had planned to not post for a while now, considering the time and the fact that I really said all that needed to be said earlier, but the coldness of a gun under my pillow freaking me the shit out and Reach's reading of my posts....

I'm talking directly to you now, I'm not taking it back. But if you're worried I'm going to fawn over you or glance after you, doe-eyed and sighing wistfully we'll see how good you can take a slap with these new nerves of yours.

Now seriously, I need sleep.



Complications ahoy, but he's not insane, evil or forgetful.

I'm as red as my fucking hair, I'm blushing so goddamn much because he doesn't know about anything I've said yet.

And so commences the busiest, most FUN-FUCKING-FILLED day of my life.

Before I run that down though:


And now to business, because I'm rushing.

Cynthia is going to be with Redlight.

I am meeting Redlight.

I need to figure out whether or not I am leaving Reach HERE to figure out his new limitations and freedoms or baptism of fire and drag him with me.

It's rude to take another man to a date, right?

Goals for today.





And I will have to wear a dress...after all, we're meeting in the Skycity on Valentine's Day.

So buy a dress.

I hate dresses.

I feel ill. But Reach is alive and walking and talking (well, staring off into space at certain points in time and grunting answers to me but hey, it's better than being a corpse in a tub).

It's nearly half three in the morning...

Stupid body clock is still tuned to London.


I wonder if Reach will log in today...


There are complications to Reach's....rebirth?

But I'll let him tell you when the time is right.

I'm literally so happy, I don't have an emotion strong enough.

Redlight, honey, are you bringing the passionflowers?

Because I actually do have Peanut brittle. Room Service can get you anything.

Later, I'll talk later. I need to sleep, I've been awake non-stop watching for Reach.

Sunday, 13 February 2011

Several rants. These pertain to all of you.


Reach and I have never been at a hospital.

I haven't been out of the bathroom of Robert's hotel room since yesterday's balloon fiasco.

I am so suddenly on my guard with you, your ears should be burning.

Forgive me if I do not leap at the chance to know a man who makes up flights of fancy for fun. Fuck, I'm turning into Frap.


Redlight’s planted evidence of ME setting the fire at my house, he’s made me out to be some kind of ruthless, family-murdering, bloodlusting harpy lady. I can’t go back to London looking the way I do, ie, as me. Avalesca is wanted for questioning on the murders of three unidentifiable bodies.


There is still hope. A sliver. A chance. Redlight could just be fucking around with me.

Well, he IS feckless enough to somehow cock-up killing three people. Probably singed his hands while trying to set the fire.

My Valentine is a truly incompetent fool.

Ahh well, that’s why I hate him~~


Ya don’t know just how good you've got it.

I’m not usually one to pry or attack. But I think it’s time for some tough love.

Quit it. Both of you.

I love you both, you know that so don’t you dare try to pull that one on me. I’m younger than you, yes, but I’ve been through enough for you to respect my opinion, you’ve said it yourselves. You know I’m clear thinking enough and mature enough to not act like a spiteful, petty teenager.

More than I can say for the two of you.

You have a DAUGHTER, her name is Cynthia DELMONT.

I’m physically pained to write these words, I feel nauseous even thinking them but…

Redlight is right.

Buck the sweet fuck up and work together or you‘ll end up dying alone and daughterless in some hovel of a place with your guts in little plastic baggies and your blood giving the place a lovely new paint coat. It is NEITHER of your faults. It is SLENDERMAN’S fault. Blame HIM. JOIN UP. And go after HER.

Stop flinging shit at each other like monkeys. You’ll never find her or get her back if you don’t share knowledge and burdens with each other. This is not some kind of…romantic, make-or-break holiday for a struggling couple. None of us have time for petty “you should haves”  or  “I did it for yous.”

Waah waah fucking waah.

We have barely enough time to get Cyndia back before she fully shatters Slenderman’s control and he kills her for it. 

Comprendé amigos?

No me jodas, tu hijo de la putas.

Now. I fully intend to meet the two of you, con or sin Reach. More likely con though, considering that I am not letting the man out of my sight. I DO still have that pair of handcuffs from London and if I have to cuff him to me after he wakes, so be it. If you are not working together by that time, I shall still help get back Cyndia, because she should not suffer due to the petty mindset of her parents, but I will make no secret of my distain for the two so called “Adults” who couldn’t stop bickering with each other long enough to save their only daughter.

Darby is dead. This is both a horrible, terrible loss, and yet another reason for fighting Him.

But this doesn’t mean we start getting reckless. I’ve seen you, just because I don’t comment doesn’t mean I don’t read.

Recklessness and believing yourself to be invincible is NOT the way to fight Him it is the way to get killed and have me freak out all over again. And no, I’m not visualising a certain person as I write this. If I’m honest, I have the same level of hair-pullingly, shriek-worthy breakdowns when repeat-offenders/apparent-Supermen like Robert-bloody-Sagel or Zeke-freaking-Strahm get themselves buggered up than when newbies come along and get buggered in a day’s worth of time.

You see that I’ve been capitalising “Him” when in relation to Slenderman?

It’s because after The Quarry, I remembered that this Eldritch Abomination  has been around for several millennia and yeah. There’s a fucking reason. 

Respect His power. Call Him names, fuck yeah, but respect the fact that He’s really, REALLY stupidly powerful.

Matt is RIGHT. We should not be over the top with our "win."

I can only be cocky for me because I literally have nothing to lose anymore and my self-preservation has taken QUITE the battering.

Reach is alive at least, he's not woken yet, but he's moaning words, names, things that I heaard him say when he was in The Labyrinth.


You planted evidence at the scene pointing to me as an arsonist, Hmm?

I can’t believe you were in my hotel room without me knowing~

I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, sweetheart~

I simply can’t wait. We had to part oh-so quickly last time~

I’ll even bring peanut brittle~

I love passionflowers you know, I loathe roses. Pungent little bastards~

I can’t wait for tomorrow, my Darling.

It should certainly be fun.

Catch you on the flip side, friends,


Saturday, 12 February 2011


Too much, this is all too GODFUCKINGDAMNIT MUCH.



deep breaths, ava....

You know what, when Reach wakes up, I'm still not coming after you.

Because I don't throw temper tantrums like you.

Reach's moaning a lot more, moving a little, I think he'll wake up at some point.

I'm sorry. I can't think straight right now. I'll speak later. I've got to get rid of something.

Cathy, Tony, Reach, Cynthia.

Guess you guys are my true family now.

So much....I can't think straight, I can't...why does this all happen so quickly? I mean...couldn't he wait for me to catch fucking breath?

Later. I want to concentrate on Reach. He's all that matters right now. Tunnel vision. Plenty of time for grief and breakdowns later, when he's awake and possibly evil/insane/had his mind wiped.....

Fuck you, America. You and your 21 year old drinking limit.


Is on the way to the hospital. Stupid man.

Told me to tell you guys,



Robert's got the whole...insanity thing going, god I'm just being callous now I'm so desensitized to everything.

I'll just post the last sane thing he said.

You'll have to post this. Using iphone. In taxi to hospital. Coughing up blood, internal bleeding. Hallucinations are crazy bad now. This was SUCH a bad idea.
Room 1408. (Yeah I know, I asked for it specifically. A little joke.) Ask the barman for the spare key, paid him 20 bucks to do this and said you'd give him 20 more. Say you're my 'friend' Carrie. He should still be in the tub. Good luck. Watch out for redlight, heard from Letterman and Reach's little moaning that he's gotten stronger...I think he's got a Tulpa thing going for him now. So much Hate.
Fuck...I don't think I'm going to be able to keep these pants...anyways get him fixed, and don't worry about me. I can't stop myself from babbling to the taxi driver on and off again. greenlight may take over while I'm give the message to ignore me until I'm sane again.
Good luck. Give Reach my best and tell him that he owes me a beer.


Oh my god i'm so damn tired i'm not punctuating shit and reach would kill me if he knew i was forsaking my grammar.

tired as fuck, in robert's room i threw myself at the poor man, he looks like hell but i hugged him anyways and kissed him on the (non scuffed up) cheek. I'm in the bathroom with reach now, undoing the robert stitches and redoing them with the dissolvable thread from the first-aid kit from the plane.

oh god i'm looking at the man that i thought was dead for so long I'm just and scared and embarrassed because it's only a matter of time before he sees my posts but i'm not going to hide it i don't care, all that matters right now is he's alive and robert's alive and i'm alive and MATT's alive and the REAL Frap is back and darby's dead but i can't dwell on that right now because i'll miss a stitch and stab reach in the eye and ohgod i thought you were dead i missed you.

i really, really missed you.

oh god.

robert can take it from here, once he's finished doing whatever....i'm ashamed to say that i've been ignoring him for reach but this is one redhead that is signing the fuck out and concentrating on reach.

flight over was fucking scary as hell though. rickety metal birds...still, i arrived earlier than expected. six hour flight, i've told aaron to get to mum....oh god reach i can't even believe this i'm so happy but i'm going to finish stitching him and pass out in the bathroom.


yay eagleland.

Passing through American airspace~

And getting a slight signal~

3G network, oh how I love you.

I'll be with them soon enough.

Oh wait, no, there are words.

Of course, Redlight~

I'll be your Valentine~

Monday's the day~

What's your perfect date?

I especially like the ones where I can bring a shotgun~

It's on, dickweed.

Guys. I'm racing to a hastily acquired flight with people who may either land the plane in Seattle Tacoma airport, or scream about a Jihad before slamming it into the Space Needle. At least, that's the vibe I'm getting.

Aaron's as bad as me when it comes to the "Knowing Bad People" stakes.

I'll be back at 3:30PM by this clock on my blog.

7AM for you people in America.

Robert. I have so much gratitude and love in me for you right now, I may ask you to marry me.

Reach.....oh god, I'm on my way.

Oh shit. This is going to be embarrassing...after what I said...I'll bear it. I'm forgetting to care right now.

There are no words.

I knew, of course, I knew the innocent was Catherine. Of course it had to be, it is just Redlight's STYLE.

I'm ashamed to say I broke after reading that post by the way.

I...I think that the Father hallucination was a Proxy with a hallucinated glamour or something, because it died when I...

I don't want to go into details, more than one Proxy died yesterday but I have one request and one request only.


Friday, 11 February 2011

Of course it's not pointless, I apologise for my weakness, friends.

But of course, you all know how hard it is, hmm?

Tyrannicide, I don't like you. You can't be Frap. Frap cannot be posting because Frap doesn't alliterate constantly and the Frap that I knew, didn't leap at the chance to kill innocents. You do yourself no favours. I want to speak to Frap, DIRECTLY. And if I find out he's been hurt in any manner, I'll gut you with my fingernails/

We went to the Temple. It's not unmarked as a Temple, but they have yet to find out who it is name of.

Not Kuk, that's for sure.

We went to it through a short drive, I must say, sand and wheels do not mix. But we got there in the end through some very anti-climactic driving across sand dunes that look the same as every other dune.

The temple was beautiful, all backlit by the moon. I knew and Aaron knew that it was stupid to go to the place at night, but there was just such a load of tension in the air that I think one of us may have leapt for the other's throat had we not done it.

He was there...observing once more. There's nothing that much to say really. Aaron and I went to a place, shit happened, we ran.

It's what happened back at the hotel that fucked us over.

A bunch of balloons, red, heart-shaped, inside my hotel room. On my bed.

The card, Valentines, obviously from America due to it's spelling of "color" on the back in the info box.

"Dearest, Darling Ava,

I'm coming for you, my darling Valentine."

I'm not a happy bunny.





This is all too much....I need Reach. But I can't have Reach because he's dead. I need to accept that now. So I need Tony, BUT HE ISN'T AROUND. I NEED SOMEONE OR SOMETHING TO NOT DIE BEFORE I GO FUCKING INSANE HERE.



I left because there was a knock at my door. When I got there there was a postcard on my doorstep and no-one in sight. I need to procure a camera to show you, but it's from London....

And it's covered in Operator Symbols. "Wish You Were Here." Is scrawled on it too.

My first thought?

Wow, Operator Symbols...that's original.

Second thought?

Oh well fuck.

I contacted Mother, but she seems fine.

But Aaron showed up minutes afterwards with a book full of photos.

Every single one of his Dad and every single other one with a guy just chilling in the background with a suit on.

In the Cairo Deserts.

Urgh. I'm all over the place. Aaron, the Temple, which I still have to get my head around before telling you guys, AND GODFUCKINGDAMNIT TONY.

I'm actually breaking without the bastard around, he's the closest person I have after Reach. He CAN'T be dead.

And we haven't heard from Matthew either.

I know I need to fucking pull myself together, but it's so damn hard, I mean after losing Reach, I've just....lost my way too. And now Tony hasn't been around, and his last post was distressed and I just have moments where this all hits me and then I see posts like Alyx's which make me feel terrified.

I'm your new Hero?

Hell, mate, I'm not even sure of my own strength at the moment. I'm sitting in my hotel room, Aaron's asleep on the sofa and I'm trying not to cry as I remember how Reach used to take the sofa when we had to share a room and I'd deliberately try to outfox his super-hearing by creeping around.

I never fooled him, he'd just open his eyes, glare at me, ask me what the hell was I doing and then go back to sleep.

Oh god, now I'm crying again and I need to calm down and write the next entry.

The party in the streets due to Mubarak's resignation seems to be....keeping Him away though...but that Father thing is still there...

Hoso's new song's so uplifting and....just, it helps...

Catch you on the flip side, friends,


Thursday, 10 February 2011


Apparently he is one of us too, a Slenderstalked.

First off, after posting last night, I went and grabbed my coat before catching one of the many buses around up to Aaron's Egyptian hotel. After all, if I dragged him back with me from Israel, he's staying in the same goddamn city as me.

It was about 10PM at that time and still rather light, so I was too perturbed, that stupid Father thing wasn't visibly there to me, but I swear I could feel it's cloying presence. Still, I had to go and push that shit to the side, because it wouldn't exactly be productive now, would it?

So after bolting from the bus to the Hotel doors (like I used to when I was little and turned the light off before going to sleep. I used to dive into bed so that I wasn't stabbed in the dark. Paranoid little kid...) I went over to reception and asked for Aaron McKenna's room number. They refused to give it to me due to security reasons, so I asked for the phone number of that room.

One phone call later and him (reluctantly) confirming that I was allowed up, I was in his rooms. Bastard's in the lap of fucking luxury but I let it slide for the moment.

And then I asked him about going out to the temple we'd discussed, tonight. He'd gotten edgy and we'd bickered back and forth for a while before he exploded with a "AND WHY IS IT SO IMPORTANT TO YOU, AVA?! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR?!"

"I can't tell you, Aaron."



"Oh, are you Lara fucking Croft now? Because I'm NOT going to be party to your shit."

"Look, Aaron. I can't tell you exactly what I'm looking for, but have you ever heard of a Temple for the God or Goddess of Kuk?"

The second I said that name, his tanned skin paled to a victim from a zombie movie.

Cue a massive whispering shout match about "Why did you react like that/Where did you learn that name?" hour later and we're both choking back tears and sitting on the floor opposite each other.

His Father, Carl, was killed for reasons unknown but by Slenderp, no doubt.

Shit I've got to go for a moment.

Note to self:


Later. Talk later. Hyperventilating now. Hungry too. Ran a lot. Both of us. Aaron saw Him. But Aaron apparently already saw Him. Why did Aaron start being stalked? Same reason his Dad was killed.

Oh god. Talk more later I'm too shaky.

Wednesday, 9 February 2011


I finally managed to get Aaron onside, mainly due to the fact that I traveled to the bloody dig he was on myself.

There were raised voices, near-hits ectectect. The locals who were doing the actual digging were looking at us like we were odd.

Upshot of it all is that he's agreed to lend his expertise to me. For a fee of course.

The fee of course....ends up being me paying for dinner and if he gets caught sneaking around ruins that we aren't allowed around, him being able to claim that I pressganged him into it.'s kinda true I guess.

And then we spent the day bickering in a Records Room, looking over old records of where the hell the Temple of Kuk may or may not be.

We're heading out to a temple, possibly THE temple tomorrow. Because I threatened to tell his co-workers about him as a little kid.

Urgh. I'm so tired all the time....I'm not losing time yet...but He's being so very aggressive.....

I'm not happy with this, but I've been feeling the compulsion to film myself.

I hate it. It's like He's trying to get me to SEE Him behind me, even when I know he's there.

The Father figure is everywhere now.Always there at my shoulder.

I've tried the meditation, but the second I closed my eyes....The Father thing pounced on me. The hands were around my throat in seconds.

I opened my eyes again, and BAM, back to just passively watching me.

I'm scared to fucking BLINK now.

So much shit is happening.....something's happened to Tony and I'm barely holding it together at that thought. Cyndia...Cathy....Matthew...Lya, Sandra and Matt.

Fuck. Me.

Fuck this shit.

I'm going to grab Aaron. We're going to that place tonight. And Slenderp can go fuck himself, Cthulu-style.

Catch you on the flip side, friends,


Monday, 7 February 2011

New Theory.

Slenderman is the Herpes of Mythologies.


(hungry, pissy day, Aaron's a dickhead ectectect. OH YAH, He showed up out side my third storey window).

Oh well fuck you, Life.

Woke up in cold sweats and crying. Father was there next to my bed again. I swear I felt those fingers against my neck again.

This is getting utterly ludicrous. I know I come across as perfectly sane and rational and normal in my posts, but that's only because I'm writing and I can go back and delete the bits where I start rambling about how nauseous I feel constantly, how terrified I am every time I am anywhere, even near people because, hell, Reach was mere inches in front of me and then I was suddenly somewhere else, hell, I'm doubting if I'm even posting this right now, it could just be another thing that The Labyrinth has decided to inflict on me. Because it would do that, you know, it would make me think I'm out of it and then suddenly pull me back. Like Room 1408. It's that hellish, save it's not a book, it's real. Or...not real-real, but mind-real.

And I'm always turning to the side to make a snide comment about something to Reach.

And I'm constantly shaky, like I'm wired on caffeine. I've misspelt shit because my hands are so jittery. And I'm SO DAMN TIRED because I can't even sleep sometimes due to...well, the memories.

They aren't nightmares, not really, nightmares are something your mind's made up. These are memories of what happened, played over and over and over and over and over until I just want to claw out my mind's eye and then ALWAYS when I wake, from those memories or just a nap, even a daydream, that Father thing is there. Always at my shoulder. Always reaching out to paw at me.

And ever since I bit him that taste has not gone. It's like bile in my mouth, always there. Nothing gets rid of it. Save for the constant gum-chewing. But you can't chew gum when you sleep, so bang goes that during the night. Most people wake up with morning breath, I wake up with a taste that means the first thing I do in the morning, apart from cry, stare wide eyed at my dead Father trying to paw at my neck with his entrails on the verge of spilling over his broken jaw, is bolt to my bathroom once he's dissipated and throw up. Which, among other things, is really not healthy.

And those whispers are there. In the dark, at night, I hear them from behind doors, windows, chairs....

And I can't drink here.

I can't exactly swim either, considering the stitches in my leg, arm and all the bruises.

In other, less angsty, news, Dr Aaron McKenna is a jumpy little upstart in his twenties who believe that little girls shouldn't be allowed on digs without a degree in Archaeology.

I want to shoot him through the phone.

But I can't, because I had to sell the shotguns back to "James" thanks to airport security.

And that's the only reason why.

Not the fact that he used to look up my dress when I was nine.

Oh god, can I just get a break for a day?

I'm going to see if I can scream Aaron into submission through the phone.

I'm glad that you're all alive, even if a few of you have gone and buggered up some part of your bodies or minds. ¬_¬

Catch you on the flip side, friends,


Sunday, 6 February 2011

Egyptian chewing gum is odd.

They've got a hookah bar here too.

The pool actually has people in it, even at this time of the night.

There's a fucktonne of security.

I actually feel vaguely safe for the first time since The Labyrinth.


How's everyone going?


People are EVERYWHERE. Jesus Christ, they're camping out in the square and blocking the paths of tanks which they've graffitied.

Fortunately, I'm staying on the outskirts of Cairo, ironically nearer the pyramids than I'd thought. Capri pants and tee shirts, I decided to stay at a resort so that I could be assured of many others. There are actually quite a lot of Westerners still here, probably unwilling to leave after they've paid for their holiday. But they're hanging around the resort and not venturing into the city or the pyramids, the two areas of high people concentration.

I, unfortunately, do not have that luxury.

I got here at, well, Ten by my watch, but it's midnight over here.

I'm currently doing a whole phone barrage to several people, both back home and here. Trying to get the Director of Antiquities in London for Christies to take a seventeen-year-old girl seriously is bloody hard, even if she DID know my Father. It took me about half an hour's worth of passive-aggressive arguments to get her to give me the name of the guy that Dad used as his Overseeing Archaeologist.

Dr Carl McKenna.

I googled him and vaguely remember him. At least, his prominent teeth and lack of hair stick out in my nine-year-old memory. I've been attempting to get a hold of him, but unless I procure a Ouija Board, I'm not going to be able to do that

However, his son, Aaron, is alive and currently in Israel.


No. Ava. Deep breaths.

So, I'm going to try and get in contact with him and see if he can enlighten me as to where would be the best place for lesser-known gods and goddesses with their temples. At least I don't have to talk to him about Slenderman. I can talk to him about the Thief of Kuk. Therefore, endangering no-one. I hope.

I'm just going to mill around some of the resort's free services..... and shops. I didn't bring any Egypt-friendly clothing apart from the Capris. I brought Ireland-friendly clothing. Ie, things that are good for the fucking freezing.

Egypt is not fucking freezing.

I need a swimsuit, that pool may just be the only relaxation I'll be getting tonight.

He hasn't been around. Maybe he can't follow me here? Or maybe He has yet to get here. Or maybe he's here already, just hasn't shown himself?

Oh I hate Him. All this second-guessing is so.......tiring.

Ouroburos, I have yet to see Yugi/Yami/Atem or any of the Friendship Four. They can be wandering around all they like, Kaiba all the way, mate~

Catch you on the flip side, friends,


Leaving now.

And I know that I shouldn't really be broadcasting this fact, but I want to see what exactly will happen in Egypt. He's following me closely now and nothing is worse than that, right?

So yeah.

Man, I haven't spoken Hebrew for a year and it's all coming back to be as I read through some of it to brush up. Arabic isn't that much of a leap after, since there are also a lot of similarities in vocabulary, phonetics and grammar. And in the capitals most people know English too, thanks to tourism. However, thanks to the unrest, I shall not be able to speak Hebrew or English. Since there is a misguided rumour going round that all of the British fleeing Egypt are Israeli spies.


Why is nothing ever easy?

At least I look like my Hebraic forebearers and Egypt is the most Westernised area, I should be able to blend freely without the need for religious costume.

I do not need semantics right now.

Catch you on the flip side, friends,


Oh god.

It's like my eyes are scarred.

But not physically, it's just.....I can see those doors and the shadows everywhere, even in the day when I know they're not there.

And I've started up one of my old habits again. I'm constantly chewing gum. That acrid taste from when I bit that fake Father just won't go away. I've brushed my teeth so many times but it just won't go away. So yeah, chewing gum constantly.

And He's back. And fucking violent. Thrashing his tentacles against the window like bullwhips in quick succession. He's staring at me from outside the airport.

I slammed a fist on the glass. The security guards looked at me oddly, but now I'm just glaring murderously at something that isn't there to everyone else in the airport.

Ohgod I still can't believe he's gone. I refuse to believe it, but....I just.

Thank you all, again, for your help and your well-wishes. I fell asleep very quickly, unfortunately....of course, then I woke up to that Father thing in my room. Lurking over my bed. I choked on my lungs I think.

He wasn't actually there, I don't think The Labyrinth is leaving me any time soon.

I'm not going to America currently.

I'm going back to the place that I lived for six months with said adoptive Father.


Thage gave me many ideas with her "Pharaoh's Game" post.....if He hasn't and doesn't show up in Egypt.....why?

I'll find out. Reach did tell me to take it one continent at a time.

Catch you on the flip side,


Saturday, 5 February 2011


I was drafting this up earlier, in  the car, and accidentally posted the first half. I've deleted it now, but....well....this is it. All of it.


We parked a little way’s outside of the Quarry and just sat there…..

I’m crying again, I’ll finish this later.

Okay. Been about fifteen minutes Ohgod this hotel room is so empty. I go to say something and there’s no-one there.

Another ten minutes and a tea. Right. I WILL finish this now. No more dithering. And it’s going to be a long post. My longest yet.

We sat there and just stared at the road for a while, fuck all happening there, it’s one of the most deserted roads I’ve ever had the misfortune to be on.

Balth wasn’t coming with us. I’d said that and Reach’d agreed. I scrambled into the back seat and handed him the Aya before snatching my Black Gold from under the seats. I shared out the stuff I’d brought from London. Bombs, battery and nail. I had my side pack, he had his cartridge belt and pack. I think we barely said a word.

Oh, apart from the bit where I commented that if we died, would he be able to drink brandy in the afterlife or not?

And then we went into the Quarry. Wire cutters for the fence, 2 minutes.  Scoping out. No-one.  Good. Move on, deeper into the Quarry. Move carefully near the skip, there’s a crumbly bit which leads onto a sheer drop. Reach drummed every single inch of that place into my head so well I could navigate the thing from memory. Exactly the point. We were wary that at any moment the Quarry could be replaced with the hallucinations that were the security system here.

So we carried on that way, corners had guns put round them first, then heads. Protect the other’s back. Look out for the other’s neck.

But we were prepared for an attack when and if it came.

So when we were sneaking by one of the massive cranes and we were jumped in the shadows, we reacted well.

The guy’s arm is around my throat in seconds. I slam an elbow into his solar plexus, twist out of his grip. Reach shoots him in the chest, the pellets send him stumbling back a few feet. I leap forward and shove one of the nails from the nail bomb I’m holding into his eye. Reach and I dive for cover on the other side of the crane. Explosion. Dead Revenant.. Nail bomb to the brain will do that to even the most super powered of us.

But along with that loud bang went our stealth.

So we run like hell in the direction that the boat to the island with the thing on it would be, but hell. Now they KNOW we’re here and suddenly I’m in a box.

That’s just it.

One second I’m running, mere inches behind Reach, the next, I’m in a box.

So I yell for Reach because this is physically impossible and even though I KNOW what’s happening because we went over it, I’m still freaked because a tiny part of me is shit scared now that I can’t see him or know that he was, IS still mere inches in front of me, but I can't see, hear, feel anyhting outside of the box.

And then there was a door. And I opened it because this was what Reach said. This is what we had to expect.

The Labyrinth.

From our minds to the lay of the land.

Fantastic. Brilliant. Abso-bloody-lutely fine.

So I carried on, going in the rough direction that we needed to, through each mysterious door to the next, nerves fraying with every single door opened with a lack of Slenderman behind it. My compass was as useful as a sock full of sand, spinning like a helicopter blade with no discernible North.

And then there were no doors. Just a room. And I turned back to go out the way I came and suddenly there are many doors.

Open Doors.


Nothing else.


With whispering things in the writhing, smoky shadows beyond them.

Whispering horrible, terrible things. Things that only I know. Only I feel. Slandering me. Prying things out of my mind and teasing me with them. I saw things too. Disgusting things. Father, alive. Father dead. Father lumbering towards me, eyes hanging out of his face, entrails spewing out of his mouth. I went to shoot it, but stopped. Because shooting was real and this was ALL IN MY HEAD. I knew that, but it was all so real. His fingers scraping my skin, that repulsive odour before he vanishes into a wall or another doorway or just into thin air.

Hands pawing at me through the shadows, when they came into contact with me...I either had to be prepared for searing pain or cloying numbness.

Oh god I threw up more than once in that place.

Cried more than once.

Screamed more than once.

Then, after running through so many of the doors to get away from the Father façade…..I broke down.

The whisperings got to me. The Doors couldn’t be ignored. The images in my mind…..

There was nothing more for me to throw up.

I just shuddered in a corner of a dark room, crying, rocking back and forth like a mad person and clutched the gun I couldn’t use in case I shot Reach in real life.

And then my phone buzzed.

My phone buzzed.


My god. I just broke down all over you guys, huh?

I’m sorry. I needed to say something. It seems that writing made everything easier to categorise in my mind. But then there were knives.

Oh god.

How can it be in the mind when I could feel every nick, every cut, every horrible slash that was made on me by that live room?

I have SCARS.

I have actual, physical cuts that are healing. The blackness in that room….it turned sharp. And it nicked and pulled and scratched at me.

And then I read your comments…..

Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.

I swear the blackness receded a little with every line I read.

I couldn't comment back. I couldn't read other blogs.

So I committed ever single word to memory and faced my Father head on this time.

And I bit him.

I bit the thing that had been stalking me for hours, days, weeks, whatever.

I bit his arm, felt my teeth break through skin and tasted something horrible and acrid and the doors exploded.

They exploded into splinters. Which embedded themselves everywhere, in my hair, in my arms, in my face, in my body, in my mind.

In my mind.

It was all in my mind.

My Father exploded.

The walls exploded.

Freedom. Freedom from The Labyrinth.

So I breathe REAL air. Whirl round to look for Reach in the REAL Quarry. Call his name, both names, real and moniker. See him about three metres behind me.

He’s not out of his Labyrinth.

I can tell the second I see him. He’s not following his own advice, stupid bastard man. He’s looking at something in front of him, glassy-eyed and apologising so profusely.

And the closer I get to him the more words I hear.




Others I do not know.

He’s apologising so vehemently and they are obviously spurning the apologies. So he’s trying more, taking steps forward, hands gesticulating, even with a shotgun, he’s imploring them now and I’m so horribly torn because the whispers were right that he could never love me back because he’s quite obviously still in love and pining after Ariana and it would never work out anyway because he’s immortal and I am not and Ohgod he’s so human in that moment because he’s really begging you to forgive him now and I’m sure, even though I’ve never met any of you, you’d have already said you forgave him by now but in his mind you don’t and I grab him.

I grab him and pull him sideways.

And he’s still imploring you to forgive him because he doesn’t know I’m there because I’m not in his mind and the Labyrinth doesn’t let anyone intrude on it’s fun because it’s part of Him and His creations…His world.

And I curse Him to the bowels of Heaven for that. Because he lives in Hell and his Hell would be Heaven.

So I drag him some more, closer to the area we need to get to, murmuring things to him, at him, knowing he can’t hear me or feel me or see me but just hoping that I can be strong enough for him to hold onto SOMETHING of his mind. That he can shatter The Labyrinth with both of our strength behind him.

And then Slate is there.

His fingertips are blackened, so he tried to get into my room. He’s laughing terribly. He’s got a knife as big as my arm, serrated…….

And Reach can’t help me now.

Slate holds out a hand to Reach, who’s apologising to Ariana again and Slate laughs and lunges for him.

And I put myself between them.

Between the brick house Revenant and the person I could never have but who GODDAMNIT I NEED RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I’M STABBED IN THE ARM AND OH SWEET FUCKING LORD THAT HURTS.

And I shoot him.

And I catch him in the face because he wasn’t expecting my idiocy in that moment.

I spat in his face, he threw the knife at me. It catches me in the thigh, I stumble he punches me in the gut, I’m winded god it’s like a van just smashed into me, internal bleeding? I don’t know, I don’t care because he’s going for Reach again and that can’t happen because I won’t let him and I shoot him again and again and again face, leg, face.

Nail bomb to the brain.

Drop shotgun, reach around to my side-pack for my Tazer.

Tazer for one minute, above the heart.

Dead Slate.

Replace Tazer.

Pick up shotgun.

We screamed at each other of course, there was banter. Like a bad movie or something. I found out that the first Revenant that jumped us was called “Gethsemane.” Like I care. He was trying to trip me up with empathy, but NO because you’re attacking us and that’s not going to curry any favour.

And then I look over at Reach, still apologising, this time to his daughter.

It hits me that I’m going to have to do all the work from here on in.

I’M going to have to protect HIM.

Oh the bitter irony....

So I take the shotgun off Reach and switch the safety on, running it through my back strap. I rip off the opposite sleeve to my stab wound and bandage it. I grab Reach’s free hand and drag him with me. It takes us five to eight minutes to reach the lake.

And the boat is there.

I could cry with relief. It’s a speedboat. I don’t have to row.

I drag Reach with me, into the boat and scream at him, yell at him, slap him. Nothing. It’s not breaking. Even as a hypersensitive Revenant, he feels none of my attacks.

And I clear my mind to stop my rising hysteria and start the speedboat.

It takes us three minutes from there to  get to the island and the second we’re there I know something’s wrong.


Someone had set the shack that guarded The Heel on fire.

The Heel.

The whole reason we did this.

And I get off the boat, wary for Reach enough to keep him at my back, in the boat. And I see a man. I ready the shotgun……

And now I reach the most detailed memory I have of today. Detailed because the second it happened I knew I had to commit it to memory, because this is the kind of thing that happens and comes back to bite you if you don't remember everything.

A bandaged hand clapping against an uninjured one.

Wildly manic eyes.

Mocking grin.

“Hiiiii~!” A singsong taunting voice from the man in front of me.

“No.” I'm whispering now, shocked, hateful, terrified face turning to a snarl in mere seconds. I ready the shotgun and make to shoot him.

“And to think that your threats were so more entertaining than you."

“Die.” I shoot at him. Miss, wait, no, I didn’t miss, he moved too fast for me to see.

“Wow. You’re a really bad shot.”

“Die.” Another shot. Another too-fast-to-see move.

“The Heel’s broken you know.” He throws a mangled metal mess at me and it grazes my lower calf. I feel sick to my stomach. The shotgun in my hands waivers and Redlight laughs at me.

“You’re a very brave little girl, you know….all this fighting and threatening and running around, testing things….”

I lose my voice for a second, take a step backwards to Reach in the boat, still apologising to his daughter.

“I--” My voice is embarrassingly squeaky so I clear it, much to Redlight’s amusement. My grip on my shotgun is shaky so I narrow my eyes, remembering what he did to Robert, my anger then and using it to steel me now. I take a deep breath. “I blew your Master’s arms apart. I can do the same to your head.”

“No you can’t. You’re too slow, I’m too fast. You’re too plain, I’m too handsome. You’re too stupid, I’m too intelligent, I could go on all day.”

“Please do. And stand still while you do so, I beg of you.”

“Was that a ‘Please’ I heard?”

We both stop talking, stop breathing, the only sound is that of Reach and the fire, 30 feet away. After a full two minutes of not-blinking, non-wavering eye-contact, he speaks.

“I can erase all this you know.” His voice changes, almost tender. “I can make it so you and your Mother can live normally, back to how you were before.” He holds out his hand to me, a gesture. His eyes crease a little around the edges, so much like he's actually caring, but I hear Reach still apologising behind me and my already known answer gains more strength.

“Go fuck yourself, Red.  I‘m dead either way.“

And I shoot at the ground in front of him, blowing up chunks of grass and mud to mask my next shot, through the mud. To his foot. I assume it hit, the swearing was colourful. And I fled back to the boat. Gunning it in seconds.

And on the bank……

He’s there. Tentacles everywhere. Seriously, everywhere. Anger rolling off him. Thrashing out towards us like hundreds of whips.

And I know in that second, I’m going to die. I was never going to survive this Quarry. He hates us too much. We've done too much to him.

And then…..

Reach wakes. We’re on the bank, I’ve dragged him behind me the second we hit land and kept my eyes on the faceless fucker. I scream at Him, yell at Him, two tentacles thrash my chest and shoulder and I scream, stumbling in my running. The pain in those tentacles… BURNS so badly to be touched….

And Reach wakes from his Labyrinth.

And he yells at me to run.

And I scream at him I’m not going to just desert you, are you stupid?!

And he grabs the shotgun out of my back strap to shoot Him. Distract Him away from me.


I shoot and hear the impact on Him, but all it serves to do is make Him try to crush my windpipe more. Black spots are swimming in my vision now.

Reach slamming his shoulder into His side.

More screams, yells, gunfire and I’m running and leaving him to fight Him and crying and fleeing and sobbing and too much has happened and I don’t notice it’s dawn when it was noon when we started.

A blur in my mind…..I’m back in the car, driving madly, in pain, bleeding, I scream with frustration in the middle of a country lane and cry, slam my fists against the steering wheel and sob. Balth moves from the back of the car and I notice his food bowls are empty so I fill them and his water……

I went to A&E, said it was a fireworks show that went wrong, they didn’t believe me, but I’m all bandaged up now.

And now I’m in our hotel room.

And I’m alone and tired.

And I just hate Him.

And Redlight.

For us, it felt like hours, in reality….my god….it was three days.

The Heel was….it was what Thage needed. What we could have used.

It channelled Other World energy through a person, enough to destroy Him. That’s why it was so heavily guarded…

But Redlight or someone else got to it first….destroyed it in a manner no-one had tried before and succeeded.

Oh god.

I just want him to walk through that door and flop into that chair and complain about the weather before making some snarky comment….

I will not give up.


I know I want to.

But I can’t.



Anyone else who is going to actively face off against Him for the reasons of research or fighting.

I am at your service.

Contact me.

I have enough money to get to America. I am leaving this continent. I am to be active. More active than before. More active than I ever wanted to be. Mother has been left alone, but she shall be fine. She knows worse people than I do after all. She's fully aware of the risks. She's working on something amazing too...

I am Avalesca Farrell-Conquest and I am going to be brutally murdered by Slenderman, probably this year.

But I swear on my pride that I shall give him holes to see out of before he does so.

I'm going to sleep now. I shall check back in the morning and book tickets to America,where, I'll decide later.  Who knows, maybe I'll roll up on your doorstep, Robert. I doubt it though.

Oh god. I just need to be alone with my thoughts for a while. The nightmares will start. I know it. The Labyrinth won't ever leave me I don't think, it did to much to my mind.

I love you all. You're more than family. You're so much to me. Really. I have little doubt that I wouldn't have survived in there had it not been for you.