The Only Thing You Need To Remember

There is a dark jungle next to a village. People who went into that jungle didn't come out. One day, a few people with torches went in. They were told not to, but they did it anyway. Only a few returned, dying, hurt, betrayed, broken, wounded, and more than a few dead. All of them with bleeding claw marks. Before the remaining ones died, this is what they say:


"Within the Jungle is a Tiger. It is tall, thin, and is the most frightening thing you will know. Its many claws are made of obsidian, and it has the most horrible eyes. But...it is just a Tiger, and it bleeds."


The villagers still fear the Jungle. They still fear the Tiger and take precautions...but they know it is just a Tiger. A creature of Shadows but NOT Unknown. Perhaps one day the Tiger will be slain...it is unlikely. However, there is no need for pointless, soul withering, fear.
It is a monster, but the monster bleeds.

[Blog Wiped]

The Path of Black Leaves is Mine now.
My Dear Friend is dead, buried, and firmly planted.
The Trees hold sway here now.
He That Is does not come here, nor any more of His Own.
I am alone.

I know now that it wasn't worthless. None of it. Cynthia is Truly Free. Redlight is Forever Gone. We have Taken Territory away from He That Is.

It is not a big victory. He That Is has countless other Paths and Spaces to use. There will be another one like Redlight. Other children will be Taken. This is no turning point, or even a slowing point.

But this is the first time He and His have Lost.

The Monster Bleeds.

Feel bad about that girl who helped cause this. Bad luck and curiosity will undo anyone. However, throw a wrench into anything, and you'll surprise yourself as to what you can do in the wreckage.

Going away now. Most likely for good, body's all but given up now. Have much to do, much to work with, and the nights are getting longer.

Hold.

[Several posts written by another author were originally posted on the WE blog.  These posts are not part of the White Elephants story and are available on the blog "Upon the Stairs". 

EDIT 08/14/15: It appears the blog "Upon the Stairs" has been removed and the URL taken up by a spam account.  I do have an html copy of the blog.  Email me if you would like to read it.  I may make a new blog to post archives of deleted blogs(there are several).  If I do, it will be on my profile.]

Farwell

Finally heard the news about Zero.
Poor bastard.
Maduin's shifted away his title and Amelia has been gone for half a year now.
I suppose its for the best.

If you're a Sage you will do more good than you can possibly know,
But your mind and body are going to be ruined forever.

We changed what the title means.

I'm not exactly sure who the new Sages are or who's leading the charge now. Which ones of us are fighting or running or is a Proxy...I'm too tired and too crazed to care much.

Funny joke. Saw Him watching a group of kids, always like that. So I shuffled towards Him. Partly to fight, partly to distract, maybe hoping a little that He'd rip me up. The kids don't see Him, but they see me...and they run to their mommies and daddies crying about the 'scary tall, thin, pale, bald man' and point to me. I stay calm and tell the adults that I am merely an individual with a severe case of cancer, who still tries to keep healthy by walking in parks, so sorry about the trouble. I look the part now, and most people are apologetic but...and here's the joke...one of the mothers was a complete and utter bitch and said unto me:
"My kid will have nightmares about you! She thinks you're out to get her!"

I can't help but laugh.

Sorry, Zero.
There is going to be a crowd of people waiting to kick my ass when I finally stop.

It's up to the Delmonts now. Cynthia will eventually contact them, making a break for it. They'll go to her, but Redlight will be waiting. Then I'll be there.
Then after that I won't really be anywhere. Maybe.

Until then, I shuffle along...observing the bodies, damage, and desolation my work has created. I know that, despite it all, I personally won my fight against Him...but was I any use to anyone else?

Have I done any good?

Waiting for Rozencrantz and Guildenstern

Well, the last of my hair fell out yesterday. Turns out my head actually has a couple of lumps and bumps on it. I look like a potato attached to a pipe cleaner stick man. On the plus side, people treat me with that measured wariness that they give to obvious cancer patients and people they know are terminal. They're polite and kind, but afraid of me. I am an Avatar of Death's Inevitability, a concept that people do many many things to reject for as long as possible.

Never felt better in my life though. Things are so much clearer now. No idea if this means I'm back to sanity or if I'm now fully in a hallucinatory state, but at least now I'm calm, rational, and can make coherent sentences.

They don't see me anymore. Honestly Morningstar, I was literally standing right behind you in line at the register and you didn't notice. Also, I'm the one who spilled all that ink on the blouse you bought, and the one who kept stealing the tires to Ridley's bike. It's been hilarious.

Redlight can still see me though, or at least he can detect my presence. I was scouting Cynthia, gave her a small gift, and he was there. I know he knew I was there. When I use the Path of Black Leaves now I have to be careful, he has the...the Residents...there sniffing around for me.

We're at a stalemate right now. All we can do is protect what we can, and little harassments on the side. It's Cynthia and her parents that will decide when the finale begins.

Once that happens...either it's the end of the story and the Tragic Hero exits the Stage after rescuing the Damsel...or Redlight is freed.

He is here. Watching me across the street from the greenbelt as I sit in a cafe with my phone. I'm not frightened of him anymore. He is inevitable. I think he likes us when we fight him. Trash against him, run and scream and keep on clinging to whatever shreds we have. He is not kind. He is not something to be accepted or embraced. I will oppose him forever, even after I'm gone, I'm still going to be here. Flinging starfish out of his reach. Can't save them all. But every one that I do is a win for me. Cynthia is the first, and then...a brief rest...and the Work will begin.

He is gone. I obviously bore him now.

Ah well, Rika's sitting two chairs away. I'll go dump my scalding hot coffee in her lap and then be on my way.

Wow, she screams REALLY loud. It's these little things that you have to appreciate.

Tree

Got what I needed from the Tree.
Zero's mostly right. The thing is real, and it is horrible.
However, there was no malice from it. Not even after I snipped off what I needed.
Could be that my status is what kept it from being 'active' but I watched that damn thing for hours.
It is a horrible thing. It can't flower here (Thank God) but I know it's a Tree of Black Leaves.
It whispers...but they mean nothing. Not really. Just as a seashell echos the ocean within, these kind of...things...have the echos of all the horrible deeds done in darkness within them. Slowly leaking out, becoming those horrid whispers you hear when you think you might not be fully alone.

Hard part's over. Just need to wait it out now.
Not worried about time. The Core Theory's finished and I am now a part of it.
Redlight is already dead, even if he doesn't know it yet. His slaves will burn.
Rika, Morningstar, Steward, and the others? Enjoy your time...because I am going to leave each and every one of you on the ground, writhing in pain, cursing my name, and whimpering.

When I go out, every Proxy is going to know it and have it branded on their flesh.
You can't stop it. You can't stop me.
So, sit back and enjoy your time...but know that your all about to suffer the final curse of the Sages.A

Purpose

Cynthia, Dahlia, and a hundred others.
I think that after everything, if...if I'm still hanging around I'll use the time to help them.
Maybe even after...a hallucination of a miserable old specter skulking playgrounds, chasing away parents so the children are kept away from Him.
Skin's starting to flake off. Can't stomach solids. Baby food now.
Hearing whispers, seeing things, unless a Runner, Proxy, or He is nearby I can't focus.
Using my old iphone to post this stuff.
Going to face the Tree tomorrow. Need something from it...God I hope that it actually exists. Or at least exists enough for my purposes.
Message to the Delmonts...follow Cynthia's request. You HAVE to be there.

I will never stop.
You hear me? I will NEVER stop!
Even after I'm gone, you bastards wont have beaten me! You tried and tried and tried but you NEVER. BEAT. ME.
I WILL NEVER STOP FIGHTING! I WILL NEVER STOP TRYING! I WILL NEVER. STOP.
You think HE'S unstoppable? Well LOOK AT ROBERT SAGEL! I am the creator of Core Thoery! I am the First Sage! I am rotting away, scared, and so very very tired. BUT I NEVER GAVE IN!

Never stop. You hear me everyone? Never stop...it's how it will finally end. Don't despair...get mad, and never stop.

Proxies

They're getting more and more erratic.
Redlight's little retinue has gone hunting.
The new Rika and Moriningstar and the others yap yap yaaaap.
I watched one just continue to walk into a wall for a while, like a glitchy video game character.
The Core Theory holds...well the new/original one before it was corrupted by Him, Them, and mostly by my own damn ego.
Anyway, general warning to all. The Proxies are going to become more and more erratic/violent in their behavior. Ignore Rika, Steward, and the other chatty ones, they're going to still be the same for a while and be a generic annoyance to all.
It's the others you have to look out for. The ones that don't talk anymore.

We need to reduced the number of Proxies out there. It's vitally important. Eventually they'll all end up on the ground, drooling, but the sooner it's back to just Us and Him, the better.

Thankfully, when I'm Done the number of those kind of Proxies should be severely reduced. At least we'll be rid of the Red Rat Bastard.

So, Zero. I'm ready when you are, man.

Zero

Hey man, we need to talk.
We're in the same area actually.
I'll see you in the Library after hours.
This isn't a trap or a trick.
All of my clock's are running out soon, and I don't have any desire to waste time fighting with you.
Can't say I approve, but I'm done dictating what people's roles are.
A little late, I know.
Anyway, I'll be there. Come to talk, or come to fight, your call.
See you soon.

Back Again

No way of making you guys trust this, but it is me. You wont see that bastard here anymore. He's not leaving Cynthia, too risky.

If you're wondering how I dropped off the radar...don't. It was a chancy procedure at best, I got lucky, and even then I'm not going to see Christmas. My hair's already started to fall out.

Anyway, I'm not trying to fight Him anymore. Finally understand that it's not my bit. The Core Theory is true, but not how I wanted it to be. He will be ended, and there will be signs...but not now, and not to me. What person doesn't hope to be a hero at some point in his life? It wasn't my part though, I tried to make it my own. Reshape things, and let us all reform this into something we wanted...and naturally it was wrongheaded at the start. This is a river that forks in many places, and bends several times. You CAN choose your destiny in how to end this, but it will end...usually with Him.

I am not supposed to, can not, will not, stop Him.

However, I am going to kill Redlight. That much I CAN do.
And I know how.
But it has to be fast, because if he gets away then he's gone.

A little note to all of his flunkies and wellwishers. He's not trying to save you as well. All those puppets? He's going to leave them to rot, and leave you with Him. Odds are that he's going to kill you in his exodus. Redlight cares only for his own hide, and despite his show and dance along with his lies, he doesn't care for Cynthia.

He only cares about his own escape...and his escape vehicle.

Thank you for informing me. Especially for doing it so publicly.
I understand that you did not have a phone and I insisted on an update at the soonest possible moment.
So please report back...

I have to give you a proper debriefing.

He's not here.
Apartment's empty, just this laptop and a sticky note that had the password for this blog.

...

Redlight, are you CERTAIN that Sagel isn't dead?
Then how is he no longer Seen?

Alexandria

Back home. Returned to my job. Been living normal since the last time I put info in here, give or take a few days of interview and travel.

Please do not contact me or visit me. I'm going to have to go silent for a while. Too much activity here will ruin everything.

I'll be back though. This is not a retreat.

Because --- will come back here. --- will try for the kids in the park across from work again. --- will leak into people's minds once more.

Winning is impossible. Defeat is a pipe dream.

But I can Not Lose.

Of course, this might be just another failed attempt...but the New Theory is complete.

And as I said before, I have lived long enough to become a tired old fool, weak in so many ways.

What is left for me but Windmills?

Revised Core Theory

KNOWN
1) --- was in existence before knowledge came of it.

2) Exposure of --- existence to a population causes it to become more active.
As for changes in being/intelligence/behavior/etc no idea whatsoever.

3) Propagation of ---'s story by way of the internet did. not. help.
But don't worry, just THINKING about --- doesn't cause you to be targeted. It's...more complex than that. It's Step Number 1, but you need to do three of four more things as well. Odds are good though that you do those things daily. More on this later.

4) No amount of changing ---'s story can result in its destruction.
I'm sorry Zero. So, incredibly sorry.

5) No story or Title can change who we are, nor can it change weapons or make spells, or do anything. Stick with M's rules as best you can.

6) It WILL die, and there will be no young. It is a singular creature feeding off a limited resource.

Anything else is conjecture and speculation. I'm not revealing any more. Too easy to get distracted or corrupted by the redlight. In the town of Alexandria's, working on my entrance and preparing for my interview.

Reason

I'm not going to deny that my grip on reality and sanity is by the fingertips, and that's on the best of days. But I need to do this. If I'm right then it's a win. If not, then I'm of no use to anyone anymore, and it's best if I drop off the grid and become a nebulous figure. Anyway, onto my lead...

Alexandria is a monster, a normal one, but much more foul.
She's been convicted and sentenced for Infanticide. Her own. All five of them.
She did it. Not ---.
It was her way of saving them. She knew it would tear through her and then onto them and she wanted to spare them the pain. If it makes her seem any better it was by a quick injection, while they were asleep.
She's in another 'Fairfax'...not giving the real name. She isn't called Alexandria either.
Of course they locked her up, with a story like hers (and ours) who wouldn't?
It's very important I find her. She has something that I need to restart the Core Theory.

She knows ---'s First Name.

Stable

Look up Wallace Shawn's essay 'Fever' that's about how I feel right now.

Reach and Tony are gone. No idea where. Best if I don't go and find them. As much as I have distaste for M's methods, his rule on groups has merit.

I do have to say something though. The Core Theory has a flaw. A damn big one. I know, I've seen proof in Fairfax that it's something viable, that it's got some merit. But it's...it's like trying to hit an exact frequency with unlabeled dials that occasionally change their tuning...and right now redlight has their hands on one of them.

Some of the strongest supporters of the Core Theory, from nearly the beginning, were redlights. My data is corrupted in almost every point.

I have to start over.

I'm okay with that. I have a lead.

Let me be struck down with insanity again and again and again. I keep coming back. I'll keep coming back and I'll keep trying to stop them and ---. Maybe eventually I'll break, but everytime I piss them off, every kid I stop --- from getting, every time I cause him pain, I win. I'm not the hero and I'm not the warrior, I'm the goddamn Sage, and every time I get us one millimeter closer to beating them, no matter HOW many steps they drag me back, then I've done what I've needed to do. And I'm going to keep doing it. --- can't kill me, not sure why, but that means that it's going to be ME in the crowds, stalking HIM!

Reach, Tony, thanks for the save. You wont find me when you get back. You will find a duffle bag filled with cash and the keys to my nicer apartment. Good luck with Ava.

I need to find Alexandria.
Yes redlight and flunkies. I know about Her.
And doesn't that just piss you bastards off?

Back

Yeah, you two...just go. Do whatever. I'll stay here, don't worry. I just...need some time. Head's still cloudy, and I'm gonna go through a big ass withdrawal from being doped up so much for so long.

I remember a some important things though.

First: redlight is WAY smarter than we thought.

Two: There's a reason for that.

Three: It's a title, NOT a singular person. There's more than one redlight. 

Four: They all dress the same and sound the same, but it's a trick. Voice changer, and they described their look JUST for that reason. The one I clobbered wasn't the one who schooled Reach, and the one in Ireland isn't the one in Fairfax. It also explains the 'no memory of who they are' thing.

Five: They communicate with each other but it's not telepathy. They can't talk to each other, but there's a data exchange. Unsure on specifics.

Six: This data exchange isn't solely real-time. You wanna know how redlight played us? They knew our moves BEFORE HAND.

Seven: More redlight in the 'network' the stronger it is.

Eight: Guess what their plan for Cynthia and Eva is?

Nine: They're undoubtedly working towards freeing themselves from ---'s control. They're behind the schism.

Ten: They hate you Reach. More than you can possibly imagine.

Good news: We're not totally screwed. It's not a perfect prediction system. The one watching me complained about 'Variables shifting' 'Outdated Information' 'Ruined Scenarios' and 'High probability.'

So, NEVER take a redlight lead, NEVER follow redlight...and if you see or even THINK that you're involved with a redlight then bail. They lead us around and fit us into their scenarios, act randomly and they have to start all over. Matt? Shut up, yes you were right. Congratulations.

Now, I'm gonna go pass out for a bit.

Can't Read My...Can't Read My...Can't Read My Poker Face!

You all play chess...I'm fond of shogi, especially the bit where you can turn your opponent's  captured pieces against them.

I'd thought I'd give all of my friends and well-wishers a fond farewell. Cynthia's favorite Big Bro and Big Sis will be dropping off the grid for a bit. Errands and what not. Don't worry, we'll be back and you'll certainly see us around. So, I'll leave this space back up for ol' Rob when he gets better...and then worse...and then better...and then worse...well you know that shtick already.

Anyway, everyone else be good. Listen to Cynthia, I gave her instructions and she's in charge now when you aren't obeying He That Is.

Leave Robbie, Reach, Tony, and pretty much ALL of the Fighters/Keepers/Runners alone. I'm calling for a full pullback. Don't go near them. Don't taunt them. DON'T attack them. Pull away entirely. No trails to follow, no threads to grasp. Actually...yeah, how often in life can one be able to pull off a quote like this?

With apologies to Roddenberry for my changes...

(clears throat and puts on best Ricardo Montalban accent)

I've done far worse than kill them, I've HURT them. All of them. And I wish to go on...hurting them. So I shall leave them...marooned in their misery, as He That Is takes them one by one, marooned with their dead plans...a dead hope, buried with their misery...buried alive.

Rika! If you so much as touch Cynthia again, they will find you on the I-5...for at LEAST five miles. She can talk to whomever she likes on the blogs. You do NOT get your teeth back either.

Good news!

Yep, good news for everyone. Those morons who tried to hurt Ava's mother became aware that they need to re-evaluate their role in the world of He That Is. There are rules, which is why I was allowed to be, to search around the rules...and now I am doing just that.
A few more loose cannons, Revenant and Proxy are now firmly in my network. I might have to put together a cocktail party so we can all get to know each other. They gather together, under me...I will bring them what they want. None of us want to return to human filth...so I will make a new option.
In two days Robert's not going to have a care in the world anymore. Finally. You know, it's slated for early on Sunday, so tick tock heroes. I hate him, and I hate Reach, burning triumphant while being whole and intact. I will kill Reach one day...but Robert...so useful...but I have to obey my orders...to an extent.
And best of all, I got my Little Sis back! We're watching Pinky and the Brain cartoons with Rob. I also got Cynthia her own hoodie! An adorable looking pink one. I do this for her, for Letterman, for those that have no names anymore.
Anyway, I'm in too good of a mood to taunt or heckle or anything like that. In fact, hey, how about a deal? Zeke? You want me to deal with Fisk? He's kind of an ass, and reminds me FAR too much of that monster Connaghan...Connahan...whatever that shithead's name was. He isn't important anymore anyway. You killed him, He That Is dealt with the rest of him, and I picked up the scraps. Little threads here and there, pull them together, to pull myself and the others away.
As always, all I ask for is a 'please.'

Identity

You know, I'm...ashamed. What kind of parents are you? The role of the parental figure is to provide for the child. Parents are supposed to be willing to put up their lives, their beings, their souls, every single bit of their existence, their entire identity all for the sake of their children.

You couldn't live with the guilt and the shame of having to sacrifice for your girl. Rob here wasn't able to make things easy. So it was either keep your girl by your side, safe, healable, and eventually happy or send her back to He That Is...and believe me when I say this, those that are guarding her now care FAR less for her well-being than I did.

The blood of an innocent on your hand, the guilt of living with that, the inability to look yourselves in the mirror. You couldn't pay that price. So, you go to bed, chiding yourself on your failings but secure in the hope that you'll save her again, or that you'll rescue Rob here and he'll come up with a plan. You even feel good about yourselves that you made the righteous choice.

You ever read the Picture of Dorian Gray? The guy who's picture gets nastier and nastier as he gets older and does wicked things? Anyway, Dorian has this choice to seduce this innocent girl who is infatuated with him. By this time his portrait is looking rather vile, so Dorian gently rebuffs the girl and leaves her be. Assured that this deed of temperance and humility will undoubtedly make his picture look less vile. When he returns home and gazes upon his illustrated visage however...it looks WORSE. For now there's a smug smile of hypocrisy on his painted face. I can only imagine the smirks on Tony and Cathy's painted masterpieces.

I have a memory of a mother who gave up a neighbor's child to He That Is, in order to save her own. She lived with that guilt for the rest of her life, confessed to priests, did penance, and still felt unclean about it for the rest of her life. Her child is fine.

Hell, when I explained my game with Reach, he demanded that he be pushed in. Swore at me one way and down the other. He said he'd do anything. I jokingly threw out that I'd let him go if he killed Robert with his bare hands. He said yes. I upped the ante and moved to Ava. He hesitated, but he said a soft yes. Then I went all in and offered his daughter's freedom if he killed Cynthia. It took a long long time, but he nodded.

Now if he would actually DO it if I released him, is another question all together. But I'm proud to have known him, oh and don't hold it against him Ava. He's a good parent, and a great catch. I'm not jealous, we'll always have the Needle...and the steak knife.

I'll try to get Cynthia back under my wing. But I will never give her back to her genetic origins now.

Anyway, while Rob and I sit here. I'd thought I'd reveal a huge secret...who is that dashing rogue in rouge? Is he Jay? King of the needle and acid brain bath? Well...sadly, I have to pull a Shamalamadingdong twist on you folks.

I have no idea.

I could be Jay, I could be one of Reach's neighbors from the old country, I could be one of the HYBRIDs now corrupted and hurled back through time to mess with you all...okay probably not that...but the point is that I have no memory of my life that wasn't chained in servitude to He That Is. Even those are murky. I have a face, but no ID, I tried to get fingerprinted tested...and no results. There is nothing to me but this. Cynicism and slavery.

Course, I could be lying. That's the beauty of these blogs though, isn't it? We can make ourselves look all nice and pretty, type up codes that make us look clever, and play the hero without the world seeing the dirt and grime underneath. Trust me, there's foulness in everyone. No saint is a saint. I mean, you all adore Rob here...but do any of you really know him? Have you seen what's on his computer in his 'naughty files'? Aren't you curious as to why a grown man likes to walk by a children's playground every day, even though there's faster routes? Zeke...well...where do I start? I've read all those IA reports my friend. Cathy and Tony...well...you know about them already. Reach and Ava? Huh, you know what kind of horrible things Reach has done? And trust me, he may have been ordered...but he enjoyed them. I'm sure Ava has more than a few skeletons as well, give me some time and I'll find 'em.

Anyway, eagerly awaiting to see what you're gonna do to help Robert here. Wouldn't surprise me if you did nothing. Didn't he say it? 'The hero always dies at the end?' Well...he wont be dead...but I doubt if it'll make a difference at that point. I have a memory of holding a young girl...she's crying that she's afriad to go to sleep because she might not wake up. She's not seen by He That Is...she's just realized that one day she'll die, and it terrifies her. I hold her, and never say that I feel the same way.

Was it good for you too?

You know, if you WANTED some of my Mac'n Cheese dear, you just could have ASKED.

Enjoy babysitting Little Sis. Although, here's my prediction...she's going to come back to her big bro's team, by her own free will. Cathy and Tony are not good people, and they're worse parents.

Give Reach my best, have fun with that whole thing where you feel your body dying all around you. (Yes, I just referenced the Last Unicorn, what of it? Cynthia asked to see a movie last night.) Here's for the best, and invite me to the wedding, okay?

Anyway, the proxies and other lovely folk icing themselves over our little custody disagreement? As much as I love the idea, and enjoy to take credit...and you know I LOVE to take credit...it's not me. It's either some other Revenant trying to earn favor, or part of He That Is acting up out of disappointment. I don't know. I don't care. As the song goes 'Let the bodies hit the floor.' I have to apply MORE Bactine to my hand. Although, I admit the red hoodie with black operator symbol on hood/red-green-black camo pants/black sneakers/and bandaged hands are probably going to do wonders for my fanart/cosplay inclined fans.

Dear Hoz...I'd love a song. Something either big and broadway or jazzy that swings. I mean...this is the villain's song right? Everyone KNOWS that it's the best part of the show!

Now...what am I forgetting...what am I forgetting...OH! Riiiiight! Robbie! Yeah, poor guy's all tired and sleeping...a long day of vacant stares and drooling will do that to you.

Hey here's a joke, I'll let you figure out the punch line.

How are Robert and I different?

Well...on Sunday I'll be out drinking and will have a bottle in front of me,
but Robert on Sunday will be in the hospital and have a...

Can you guess?

Happy Times at Fairfax

You know...I'd like to share a funny little observation I've seen humanity do.

You never blame the right person.

Cathy's ex-husband runs away to save his wife and daughter and keeps He That Is away from them for years on end, he suffers and is alone and often in pain. In the end, of course, his efforts are for naught and Wifey and dear little Cynthia are taken into our happy community. There's a lot of hooplah, and lo and behold there's a climatic scene in the woods where hubby comes to the rescue of his dear maiden.

Yes there's a lot of extra emotional baggage, but at the core that's what happened.

Now, does dear sweet wifey thank hubby for his sacrifice? Thank him for trying to protect his family? Thank him for saving her life?

Nope!

She brains him and blames him for the whole thing.

You would be so surprised at how many times I see it. He That Is takes a child, the parents SEE Him...and what do they do?

They tear each other apart.

'It's your fault' 'You should have protected her' 'You should have believed her' 'You should have been there'

Over and over and over again.

Never once is He That Is blamed, never once do they fault the Revenants, never do they look up into the sky and blame God. Nope! It's always the person that's closest, that's easiest to blame, that will take your endless abuse with a smile and a wave.

It's pathetic, and it's why Cathy will have to grow old and die without ever getting her girl back.

She doesn't deserve her.

Oh, but don't worry Cathy! Cynthia's good and safe with her 'big brother' watching over her. I'm teaching her so many things.

Like tonight for instance, the lesson was 'What happens to people who are stupid' with Uncle Robbie as the special teacher's aide!

Normally I'd have Robert give a lecture, but he was just too doped up, sitting there limp in the chair while Cynthia sat in his lap. (It was SOOO cute. I took a picture!) She even doodled an Operator Symbol on his green hospital scrubs. He just drooled. I thought it was rude. Anyway, we had to leave, but I left a good amount of folks around him to make sure he, or anyone else, didn't help himself out of his condition.

Ava, I want you to remember my lesson though. Because, all those others who survived the fire? The other people who got hurt? They will not blame He That Is, and they certainly wont blame me. They'll blame you. Doesn't matter what the truth is. Oh, and if you'd like to get me a valentine gift of my own? I LOVE peanut brittle.

Reach, buddy! Your Catherine is SUCH a good sport. Now, she's rather upset, and in denial but there's one more thing you need to remember.

She's in Ireland.
You're not.
And He That Is now Sees her.

Now, if you'll excuse me. I am a very busy man, and I only get a few moments to relax and work on my chess game.

Regards,

r

Problem Solved

Sir, don't worry about Sagel anymore. After he got out of surgery he started babbling again. The doctors have committed him to Fairfax Asylum. He'll be out of the way for a good long while, and odds are that they'll keep him doped up too.

Sir...please don't be angry. He jumped me and tortured me! I thought he'd die on the Path, or drown, or that it just wouldn't work! Please...I promise I'll keep him locked up in the loony bin. Please don't have Him drain me.

Holy crap...my lungs still burn like hell, two broken ribs and the rest are cracked, and my left hand is smashed. Also, when I got to he emergency room, my left eyeball was dangling from it's optic nerve. I forgot about the problems that come with the pressure difference.
Reach is still out cold in my hotel room tub. He's bleeding, blue, frostbitten, and not moving, but a revenant has...hell if I know. Still...I think he has a chance.
No idea about the innocent. Didn't see her or redlight, didn't see the surface either. But if redlight's babble was anything accurate, he's not allowed to break the rules of his deals. Not without losing his free will to ---.
Letterman's gone, probably going to be hunted down by redlight.
The morals of this story?
1) Humans should not use the Path of Black Leaves for anything more than a minute.
2) Screw you redlight.
3) I am a stupid stupid stupid man...but I'm also damn lucky.

Make this quick, no time to explain in detail.
If you've been following Reach's blog, you know the deal.
I got my hands on the Letterman Jacket Revenant, and I have a plan.
A stupid stupid stupid plan...

Tell redlight to push in Reach.

The quicker the better. The timing on this has to be PERFECT and I'll only get one shot.

Powers above

I am very very drunk. I am also...speanding about five minutes making sure I haven't misspelled anything.

I'm also damn happy cause guesss who beat off the bastard agtain? Wait...that sounded kinda bad. I mean I got him to run away. Yeah, that's it Slendy, take off and don't come back or I'll sing more Journey songs at youy!

Maybe I should explain.

Okay, I'm in the lobby of the hotel, and I just finished calling Sophie at work (She's fin BTW tottally unaware.) and I see HIM again, across the way by this pillar. Usual stalky stuff, no one else sees him but me...and these little tourist family kids, I think they sorta saw him cause one's crying but ones all spacey.

So, I walk into the hortel bar. The bastard prefers my discomfort and fear as apposed to kids. Not sure why. I still fear him you know. You can't see the Black Leaves and not...

He's not just Death. I mean we all know we're gonna die, but we don't KNOW it...cept around him. But there's something more. He's the random cruelty of the Uncaring Universe. There's nothing to stop him, not for long...we run, fight, hide, and nothing works. He still comes and we still die, or we lose our minds trying to understand that stuff. I mean...how can we stand it? It's the shadows on Aristotle's wall or something...was it Aristotle?

Damn I'm drunk.

Anyway, so I'm in the bar and SLendderman follows me in, just standing there watching me ignore him with the help of six or seven scotches...and it's working rather well. It's also Kareoke night at the hotel, there's some college kids, Japanese business men, and a bachelorette party. People are singing, and I decide to throw caution, and my liver, to the wind. What's he gonna do? Kill me for singing out of tune?

Probably best that I didn't think avbout that art the time.

Anyway, I go up, and I just hit the random 'greatest hits' button, and then that piano intro we ALLL know and love starts up, and I belt out that song I love (BEFORE it was on Family UGy, the Sopranos or glee damnbit) and it was probably the scotch but I was doing the best version I've ever did.

And the entire crowd joined in. About 30ish poeple joined in song, fun time.

Slendy ignored my singing...but when everyone joined in on the first Niiiiiiiight it started to twitch. By the time the Movie Never Ends...he was spasming like crazy...and then he RAN. Wrapped his tenticles around his head, like he was blockingout the sound and RAN.

And now I'm here...and I give thanks to the Prime Mover.
People always mistake it when I talk about the Prime Mover, they think I'm talking about God...and I am., but I'm not. The universe started as a big ball of STUFF (Maybe, I donwanna fight you if you don't buy htat) and then that ball went BOOM and now that STUFF is Everything. The force or action that caused A to become B was the Prime Mover. Maybe it was outside, maybe it was from within...but it's the thing I think that lets some poeple roll 6 10s in a row in Craps. Peopl;e think that the Prime Mover is out to get us...no no no I don't think that. The Universe is just so...BIG and RANDOM and CRUEL...but there are little things.

M's continued survival.
Zero's glory.
All those damn Proxies we've smashed.
Zeke's...well...jsut Zeke.
My continued surivval.

You can;t stop the Universe or Death from being capricious or cruel, and Slendy's just another facet of that (Not Death itself though, that guy's a connsumate professional as weall know.) But the Prime Mover is there...helping us...it can't change the Universe. Nothing can...but it helps us...it wants us to win...and somethimes we roll a hard 10 and win. So tonight I toast to the Prime Mover. May it watch over us and helpus...as it is.

Or maybe I'm just really realyl drunk.

Black Leaves

Weird occurrence today.
I'm close enough to the store to walk there and back to my hotel, but it's still about eight city blocks both ways. A walk, but I like it. Fresh-ish air, exercise, outside among people, etc.

Anyway, I'm on block two on the way back. I make a turn, and I groan. It looked like another delusion. Dead quiet street. No one in sight. The trees on the sidewalk are filled with Black Leaves. I just ignore it, note the time on my watch, and keep walking. I'm nearing the end of the block when I see, across the street Orange Letterman Jacket again. (My new stalker I suppose, anyone see this guy before?) He does a double take when he sees me. Shouts 'How the Hell? Oh shit, I left it open!' and tries to run across the street. I pick up the pace and turn the block.

I'm suddenly back in the normal world. Talking people, cars, normal trees, etc. I'm also right in front of my hotel. That's six blocks traveled in a few minutes. I checked my watch. No lost time.

What the hell happened? Where the hell was I?

Moving apart

Alright, this is good. Got a lot of data to sort through, have a bunch of people to contact, going to take a bit to send out all those messages. Also, apologies on using the coalition term, poetic license and I needed to use one of those terms. No names. No Titles. Nothing like that. That's not what this is.

Zeke, next time you see that bastard, hurt him. Also, be careful with that stuff he left. It's not going to be 100% bullshit and traps. Probably mixed in just enough truth to let you hang yourself.

Got a tip about the 'Playhouse.' A Revenant in an orange letterman jacket and orange hat with reflective safety tape on it 'dropped' it after 'stalking' me. It's easier to spot them now I know what to look for. It's their skin. It's wrong. Too tight in some places, loose in others, and their cheek bones twitch too much. Reach probably knows why this happens.

Anyway, the guy 'dropped' it when ran when he saw that I had seen him. It's a map with a bunch of places circled and scribble code. One of them is written normally as 'Playhouse.'
It's a trap. Obviously. I'm not going.

But...it doesn't feel like ---. None of this recent Revenant activity does. It's weird.
I mean, heavens know that there are still plenty of Hallowed around that act as 'standard' but the Revenants are becoming more and more odd as they go along. Reach's rebellion. redlight's creativity. Attacking Thage even though she has a 'truce.'

They're developing their own codes, conducts, and even how they treat ---. Less as an absolute master and more as a semi-distant deity. Someone who they owe fealty and who is unquestionable...but not something that openly gives orders.

I think the Revenants are starting to schism. --- gave them too much free will in order to combat us. Now, 'human' nature is taking over...so to speak.

Now, whether or not this actually happens or not is up in the air. Also, no idea if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Still, something to consider.

Cohesion

Okay, I know this has been done before, and the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. However, that's also the definition of the scientific method. Since I'm a scientist and my grip on sanity is WELL known to be mediocre at best, I feel like I'm on the right track.

Anyway, what I would like all of you, brave runners/fighters/whatever we're calling ourselves now is to list ALL the blogs you're following. Don't worry about repeating others, doesn't matter. Raw data is what I need. Also, along with each listing I need you to put up some extra info.

1. Activity - When did they last put in an entry? Data can be sparse so we'll go by Current (Within 2 weeks), Monthly, Sporadic, Dormant, Final

2. Status - How deeply is the blogger into this? Fully Aware, Haunted, Unaware, Relation, Observer, Innocent.

3. Mentality - How are they treating the scenario? Fighter, Runner, Hiding, Confused, Hallowed

For example:

White Elephants - Robert Sage - Current - Fully Aware - Fighter (Put in a link here)
A Hint Of Serendipity - Zero - Final - Fully Aware - Fighter
The Tutorial - M - Monthly - Fully Aware - Runner
Time To Talk - Cathy - Current - Haunted (Now Fully Aware) - Hiding (For now)
Eleventh Hour - Cynthia - Current - Fully Aware - Hallowed

Once I get a suitable list up of enough blogs and data, I'm going to be sending out contact feelers to people. Start up an info net, develop a Watchtower program, coordinate safe spots, and start hunting down high level Revenants.

I'm not gonna lie. This isn't going to be safe, smart, or easy. You want no part of the Coalition? Go with our blessings, take up M's rules and may God and/or Luck be with you.

If you're in? Then let's get that girl home.

New Purpose

Okay folks, had a moment to relax, collected my insurance money, taking a paid vacation. (Thank you redlight, for giving me SUCH a good work history.) And now, I have a purpose.

Cathy, if you're still active after that fire, Cynthia is now my priority. I'm going to try and find her.

I have two leads actually. Cathy says she couldn't see Cynthia's page and posts. Who do we know that has that trick? I'm going to find my dear devoted associate, and then...Ava what's a good cricket term for 'beat the living hell out of that jackass until I learn something and then beat him some more after that'? This is more than just a random hunch though. redlight left his own journals and scribbles as well as babbled to himself CONSTANTLY. He KNOWS where the others are, save for you Reach, they don't respect the little weasel (Surprise surprise) but they consult with him. Probably because he's got higher faculties left.

Also I wont lie, this is TOTAL payback as well.

My second lead? It's a greenlight memory. I remember greenlight being (or at least thinking that he was) in a building, no idea where, but it was an abandoned one, and pretty big. Three red brick walls and one grey concrete...I think. Either way, all four walls were upright and intact, but the roof was missing. Outside the building is pretty much nothing but generic scrub. Inside, there's a couple of trees, and a massive amount of undergrowth and moss and other plant life.

greenlight drew that place a couple of times, along with stick figure children with ---. He labeled it as 'Playhouse.'

Either way, Cathy...I'm going to find your girl. I give no promises on status or sanity, I'm sorry but I wont give you false hope like that. I may have a few tricks, but I'm not a miracle worker.

However, I wont let you suffer. I wont let you feel that gasp of awful hope at every knock at the door or every stranger you see on the street, hoping that it's her, only to suffer a little more when it never is her.

I will bring her home. I promise.

And you all are going to help me, damnit. Requests, theories, experiments, and other instructions will follow. We've been too disorganized and concerned with saving our own skins. Time to step it up.

The Gory Details

So, here I am in a nice hotel, showered, bandaged, well-fed, and again hooked up to a wifi that's far too expensive for its own good. A moment of peace and tranquility. Yeah, don't worry I know it's too damn good to be true and that's why I got a new bat. Cricket this time. Thought I'd pay a little nod of solidarity to the Librarian. Plus, I can't wait to hear the sound it's gonna make on that prick's skull.

Anyway, you want to hear about the great grand and glorious escape. Alright. Well, it started with me in total despair, staring at my collection of Canned Foods You Never Really Eat Are Not Sure When You Got And Usually Give Away On Thanksgiving, you probably have one too. I stared at a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli that had flames on the label (Spicy Italian, told you these were old cans). Then I got the idea.

Really, it was more of a 'If I'm going down...' kind of thing. I was in a dark place, and (so I thought) alone. Also I think redlight had been watching Fight Club in the living room for the umpteenth time (More mind games, trust me, he and me are two VERY different people) and that's where I got the idea.

I got out a pot and started to make myself some of that ravioli. But I cranked up one of the other burners on my gas stove further. Past the auto-lighter quick enough that it didn't turn it on. Then I left the pot to boil and the gas to leak, and got to the other side of the room and put the kitchen table on its side to put it between me and the stove. I half-prentended to have another fit of rage and despair, tossing things and crying/screaming, ending with a fetal position crouch.

It honestly was not as impressive as you might think it would be. After what seemed to be far far too long there was a FWHOOMP a flash of light, and suddenly all those papers with scribbles, the torn wallpaper, and some semi-nice window curtains that I got at IKEA were up in flames. The fire alarm went off, and redlight ran into the room.

That's when I jumped him. I felt something...graze me...like the feeling you get when you almost have a headache? I don't know. I think it was redlight trying to put me under again (Yeah, watch out, the bastard's got special tricks from ---) but he couldn't do it. I think I know why.

Halloweds lose their juice when they're afraid.

Either way the guy was strong enough to smash his elbow into my nose. But I grabbed my pot of boiling ravioli and wailed on him with it. He staggered back dazed, and then I grabbed his left arm (I was going a bit primal here) and I shoved it down the garbage disposal and flicked on the switch.

He screamed and pulled his hands out after just three seconds, but I saw his hand. It wasn't mangled or nasty, it just looked like someone had hacked at his fingers with a potato peeler a bit. He just ran off after that, like the coward we all know he is.

By then the fire was...pretty bad, it had gotten to other rooms in the house, smoke was thick, air was thicker. I was pretty sure I was going to die. Remember third grade fire safety, I dropped to the ground and started to crawl to the door. My nose bleeding, apparently my ears were bleeding too (From the report at the hospital), and I'm pretty sure some part of my clothes were slightly on fire now as well. I cleared out of the kitchen, and then I saw ---.

--- was just standing there in the hall. No tentacles, no creepy mental sounds, no whispers, just me on the floor, and --- standing there. (Oh, by the by, it's NOT a tie. That 'lapel' area? It...throbbed.) I look at ---, and --- tilts ---'s head to 'look' at me.

We can debate from now until forever on how smart it is, if it's actually malevolent or not, and a thousand other ideas of its nature. That thing looked at me, and I think...

Zeke...I know this will probably make no sense to you but I have to ask...in the warehouse did you see or hear the black leaves?

It's probably a lingering hallucination, ignore it if it doesn't make sense.

Anyway, someone must have seen the fire and called 911, because I hear sirens then. --- just walked away, deeper into my house, but it didn't take a genius to know that --- was gone.

I passed out then, and woke up in the hospital.

And now you know the rest of the story.

Free

I'm free.
I'm in a hospital, but I'm free.
They charge too damn much for wifi here, it's late, and I'm full of morphine, so I'll make this quick. I'll tell the whole story later. Cliff notes version now.

I got out by setting my place on fire.
Fought redlight, he broke my nose, I shoved his hand down the trash disposal and turned it on.
Bastard ran, still alive.
Stared --- in the 'face' before --- left when the fire trucks showed.
Firemen found me and pulled me out. Got me here. Said it was a nasty gas accident...which it was. Heheheh. Thank you Chef Boyardee, my escape partner.
I remember a lot of stuff I forgot.
greenlight was insane, couldn't tell the difference between fantasy and reality.
But I can.
And not everything greenlight saw was insanity.
Gonna heal up. Rest.
Then...back to work.
Good to be back.
Let's kick some emaciated ass.

Told you this was just the beginning. Heh.

Poor Robbie's crying again...all alone.

This is your fault. Your arrogance and hubris. Defying me just out of spite or pride, and never considering Rob's suffering.

When five people say 'Please, I Want You To End Robert.' I'll let him see you.

Until then...and listennnn to the sound of silence!


Regards,

r

New Deal

Ah, Robbie's crying again. He won't mind me doing this then. Not like he could stop me, curled up into the fetal position like that.

Oh, don't try to tell him about this though. You know how the HYBRIDS can't see some of those videos? Same deal.

Anyway, onto business.
The old deal is still intact as always.
But now there's a new one. Why does he not STOP? Why do they look to him? He's LOST!

You folks get to say when Robbie's hell ends.When will they accept it? When will HE accept it? I NEED him to stop
I won't lie. When I say 'end,' it's exactly what you think it is. However, and as you all know I am not a liar, it will be swift and painless. He That Is...I do not know why He That Is cannot kill him...this way will work
If...oh lets get a good consensus...let's see...43 followers? Okay, if 15 different people ask, then Robbie will stop gibbering to himself and talking to walls. That's a good percentage, don't you think? This way will work...if He That Is and I cannot kill him...then it will be they that do so for us.
Anyway, until you decide to do the kind thing, Rob remains where he is...actually this is just the start. It WILL get worse. Then better. Then MUCH worse. Then I'll fix him again. Then, knowing him and his insistence on fighting He That Is, he'll end up back on the kitchen floor. Over and over and over. Fun stuff. This will work. He will fall.

It's up to you to choose how long it goes.

As always, you just need to say 'Please.'

Manners are important.

Regards,

r
It hurts you know. I wake up and every part of my body hurts. I can't take it...I actually considered in a moment of weakness...but when I made a dive for the knife drawer, I blacked out again. --- LIKES me alive.

I don't sleep anymore. I just black out. Then someone else goes to work and acts normal. Then someone else comes home and scrawls on the walls, speaking in nonsensical babble. Preaching about Excalibur, Grendel, and Roland. Nonsense giving poetical gravitas by use of a large vocabulary and pseudo-Jungian terms.

Then I wake up...on the floor...filthy...aching in pain.

--- is in my house. In the guestroom, if you can take the irony. And I can't do a damn thing about it. I can't leave the kitchen. I blackout otherwise. At least as long as --- is here, then --- isn't outside. Not that being in two places at once ever gave --- pause before.

I try. I try so hard...

redlight laughs at me from the living room, and I can't tell if it's my laughter or not. Either way, I hate him.

Still, the bastards left me the computer, and a kitchen full of stuff. I won't give in.

Maybe the lunacy is right, with Fizzbomb and the others being free, because it's a damn sight better than being someone --- keeps alive.

Back

I'm back. I woke up on the kitchen floor. They graciously left my laptop in here. I'm covered in dirt and my nails are bloody. I was outside, digging in the ground. No reason. No sane reason. I also clawed at my wallpaper along one wall and smeared dirt and a little blood all over it. The floor is covered with broken pens and scribbled paper. Just Operator Symbols and...more of that nonsense that I posted.

I'm apparently so happy that she's gone. That she's 'free' and I want others to follow in her example. That it's the only way to hurt him. Yes, if there's no one left to speak about him, that would do it now wouldn't it?

It hurts you know. I wake up and every part of my body hurts. I can't take it...I actually considered in a moment of weakness...but when I made a dive for the knife drawer, I blacked out again. --- LIKES me alive.

I don't sleep anymore. I just black out. Then someone else goes to work and acts normal. Then someone else comes home and scrawls on the walls, speaking in nonsensical babble. Preaching about Excalibur, Grendel, and Roland. Nonsense giving poetical gravitas by use of a large vocabulary and pseudo-Jungian terms.

Then I wake up...on the floor...filthy...aching in pain.

--- is in my house. In the guestroom, if you can take the irony. And I can't do a damn thing about it. I can't leave the kitchen. I blackout otherwise. At least as long as --- is here, then --- isn't outside. Not that being in two places at once ever gave --- pause before.

I try. I try so hard...

redlight laughs at me from the living room, and I can't tell if it's my laughter or not. Either way, I hate him.

Still, the bastards left me the computer, and a kitchen full of stuff. I won't give in.

Maybe the lunacy is right, with Fizzbomb and the others being free, because it's a damn sight better than being someone --- keeps alive.

greenlight

Draw upon us all
I hear Fizzbomb
Took a while to tune in
She's free now
Her song is beautiful.
Such a triumph
It's how we're all free
In the end, how we win
Burn Him with our own fires
Blazing gloriously
Our Last Song Deafening them
Fight him, fight him, fight him
Fall and be free
That is how we win
That is how we win
That is how we win
I see her falling...her flames...beautiful...

Odd behavior

--- hasn't been seen in my area now. No accounts of missing kids. I have a friend who works at the hospital in pediatrics who says that cases of 'emotional distress' are down to regular national levels (Which are still too damn high in my opinion. But that's a topic better explored by psychologists and cynical comedians.)

It's not my presence. It didn't change like this back when the 'Fighters' were at their peak. Something else is happening. I'll look into this. See what else is out there.

I black out regularly now. Lost time is common. Mostly at work. Has part of me 'become' my job? We're wandering back into Sarte nonsense.

I'm not going to let them beat me. Not ---, not redlight, not even whatever insanity bubbles up in my own mind.

They want me around? Fine. They want to break me again and again? Fine. They're ignoring the fact that I'm going to get back up again and again.

I lost my mind trying to see the big picture. Trying to sweep it all away in one grand gesture. It almost worked, and I did fall.

Now, it's just the small stuff. Every kid I force --- away from is one more kid safe for one more day. Every theory I come up with is one more theory closer. Every day I'm still alive, sane or not, is another day I can tell --- to go shove it up his ass.

Tomorrow, I may end up on the floor of my kitchen, weeping and hallucinating...but the next day I may be back up, trying something involving slinkys and Christian rock.

You're not supposed to think about White Elephants to make the carpet fly. Doesn't mean I can't tie redlight to the carpet and throw it off a balcony.

Okay, losing it a little...but you all know what I mean.

Cycles

Okay, so...I read up on everything that I've supposedly done. Apparently I went a little crazy, and the minor I took in Mythology sort of caused me to go crazier. Jungian archetypes mixed in with a little pseudoscience and a lot of hysterical bullshit. Interesting stuff, but mostly self-aggrandizing crap. Hype and propaganda.

Of course that might have been the point. Or not. I'm not that person anymore, nor am I that person in the notes.  For those who ask, you saw them earlier. I've checked the cache on this blog. I've also change the password to try and keep redlight out.

I hope so at least. I want to try and disprove the theory that redlight and myself are the same entity. (Lord I hate Fight Club for making that a cliche...still a good movie though) Right now I sadly don't have any evidence. Well...nothing that disproves the theory at least. I only see him when I'm alone, and he doesn't interact with anyone else online, while I'm also active.

Episodes of DID and Time Loss are common experiences around...I dislike using the Entity's proper name for some reason still, but I don't want to return to /Construct/ as that way lies lunacy. I'll just use --- instead. Reduce him to an Abstract, although I want to look into the significance of redlight's He That Is title.

Anyway, I'm also experiencing incidents of uncontrollable coughing. Another common occurrence, but...I have a plan. Apparently, for a while, the Title system, and immersing myself into the identity of...well...whatever I was...was enough to protect me a little from the effects of --- presence and attention.

Also, memetic weapons work as a form of protection. The Fire Extinguisher worked too for a while. I have a new theory, looking over my notes.

Weapons cannot work. It's a classic trait of Monsters, blades breaking upon it's back, scales impervious, etc.

Memetic 'weapons,' the Operator Symbol, and the Fire Extinguisher worked. These are not weapons. These are Defensive Tools. Items that install a sense of safety, security, and protection.

I have an emergency first aid kit in my house. Inside it is one of those little unfold-able thermal blankets. During a coughing fit, accompanied by minor delusions (Voices, Whispers, small specks of light, etc.) I got it out and wrapped it around me. The effects subsided after two minutes and did not return.

This is probably a temporary item, as are all elements currently. However, I'm certain that similar items will have similar effects, possibly.

No sightings of either --- or redlight.
Have experienced an estimated time loss of 30 minutes.
I keep hearing voices, if it's redlight or ---, or my own voice when I was completely insane...I don't know.

It says I can't escape. I dream of an old man in an asylum, regaining his sanity only to be driven mad again and again. Watching as corpses pile up around him...impotent and helpless. Worse than useless. Leading people to their doom...and --- keeps me alive...because I'm it's greatest ally...

Ugh, have to stop. Regain composure...unable to delete this crap though. Nausea and coughing fits otherwise...damn it.

Keep working. It's my only option. It's my only fate.

Questions

Okay, ummm...who are you guys and how do you know me?

Who was that guy in the park? I mean I read a little up on this guy, but come on...it's a guy wearing a suit and pantyhose over his face exploiting this story. Right?

I'm trying to make sense of this stuff...especially the stuff that I apparently wrote myself when I was in the hospital after the car crash. It's all disjointed though. No one's organized enough, but it's the only connection I have.

Also, who the hell is this guy in the red hoodie that I keep seeing across the street from my bus stop? He's got that circle with the x on it on his hood, so is he involved?

Who was I?

Rob. Rob. Rob. You disappoint me.

It seems he just can't help himself.

Why couldn't he just have let things be?

Trouble is I can't exactly remove memories of a family member's passing...not without dealing with FAR too many people. That stupid cousin of his...

Then he sees Him by the playground across from his work (He That Is must feed, would you begrude a Lion watching his prey in the veldt?), and what does he do?

Approaches Him, which scares off the Kids, causes Him to slip back into the woods...and now he's calling the police and looking on the damn web about this.

I know you people will grab him back, so grateful to have one of your standard bearers back...

You have no idea how annoying it is that I'm forbidden to just remove him.

Fine. He wants back in? Let's go Robbie. I know EXACTLY what your fate is going to be...

Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...


I'll make you all BEG me to remove him.

Nausea

Let it never be said that I wasn't a generous man,


Hard to concentrate. Harder to write. I wake up on planes, or in the middle of meetings. My life is not my own anymore. A character in a story.


Can't access the blog anymore. I don't remember my password.


I had a college friend who was, still is, a writer. Little short stories, horror stories, heh. He says the old phrase 'My character took a life of its own' is a signature of a poor writer with a poorer imagination. Characters do what the author tells them to do, nothing more. 


Gah, I look at my writing. If it isn't nonsense that turns the Core Theory into a joke, it's faux philosophic babble. Sarte mostly.


I understand what I must be trying to figure out. The nature of the sickness, the insanity, the time skips. It has something to do with the imbuing of Him onto myself. Just as this suitcase at my feet has become MY suitcase while also being a Black Suitcase, a $29.99 suitcase, My Second Business Suitcase, The Suitcase I spilled coffee on that one time and now there's a stain there, and a Hartmann knock-off. 


It is all these things, but also none of them. It's a suitcase. Not even that, just some leather and metal really. 


Yet when I think of definitions of Myself, in these lucid periods, I only can think of 'Robert, a Victim of the Slenderman.' Any other sense of self just seems...alien to me. Thus, I am his to use like an object on a shelf. I have no other identity. It's what's happening to the others, what will happen to the next victims.


Look at M. What is he now? Is there anything other to his being than a Runner?


It's one of His subtle tricks. You stop being who you were, and slowly lose yourself to this thing. The Hallowed are proof really.


Robert (Sage) is no longer me. That's another person really. Unhinged, insane, driven mad by the fight, but I know that he doesn't suffer. I'll give myself over to that eventually. He's stronger anyway. However Robert (Sage) tried to do too much, burnt out, let himself drink his own kool-aid, and now...well...babble and insanity.


It almost worked.


I'm not giving up though. There's ways around this. Robert (Sage), for all his lunacy, is still holding Him back and gaining a following. The Core Theory has a shred of solid ground. 


I will keep on working on this until I am dead.


The Chain contingency plan is stupid, but it's the only thing I can come up with right now. Don't know if the file will be deleted by the office, or if the person who sees this will start it, or if someone breaks the chain down the line. Also it endangers others, something I promised I'd never do. 


I'm so tired. 


vs,r yo eoyj okB tep ud oy qieja yjrm rgwewa dyo;; giow


I thought it would be kind to put up the last bit of Robbie's little 'chain.' I hate cliffhangers, and just to show you how hard Rob here crashed. As always, the offer's open, just say 'please.'

Regards,

r

Stupid stuff

I don't know why Rob is bothering me this crap. I get an email from this guy I met like twice in my life, it has a password to this blog, instructions to post this, change the password, and then mail this scrambled stuff to some guy I sorta knew from College.

I know Rob, so I called him up about this. He doesn't know anything. Says that this blog got hit by some crazy fiction spammers...something like the whole 'I love bees' thing way back. He says to ignore it, probably a scam to get email passwords and such to spam porn ads or whatever, to just junk the whole thing.

So, I did.

Favor

Okay, Robbie told me to post this when I got pinged by his blog. Keeping out of this stuff. Too weird for me.

The problem is to find that point where a person starts to begin to...I don't have the right term for it. Hard to think. Don't know how long this lucid period will last, so need to make the most of it. It's a concept of one's place in the universe I suppose. I am who I am. I exist in this current time. I understand the world to this extent.


Maybe that's why He's so frightening. The Lovecraftian concept taken to a new height. Back then, the concept that humanity was not only alone in the universe, but insignificant as well, was terrifying and unsettling. That is why Lovecraft was so effective. Now that concept has been more...tolerated...by society. So it's lost it's sting.


Now there's Him. He can be anywhere, He is Unstoppable, and you end up losing your own spot in the universe...subjugated and sublimated by Him. You are not insignificant...you are just powerless. An eternal line of 'Opening Scene Victims' in a horror movie. That's frightening. That sense of powerlessness. The point of the Core Theory is to change that, or at least alter it.


My father and my uncle used to use chess to decide who had to muck out the stables (They grew up on a farm.) and my father would lose a lot. So he studied, and trained, and learned. Then he won one game, then another, and then a whole week.


The next week my uncle said 'Now we're going to play darts.'


Of course, that does me no good if He's the one dictating what game I play, and messing with my mind.


I have an idea though. Looking into Sartre. Specifically Nausea. Well...for the few hours of the day that I still have my mind. (Haven't noticed a pattern in the timing. Not yet, at least. Try to record that as well.)

Hello

Hi, my name's Sophie. I work for this call center for a medical company. I don't know who this guy was that worked at this computer but...he...look I turn it on and I see a file titled 'For You, Important.' In it is a link to this blog, and a word document with the username and password for this blog, instructions to change the password, and this thing below titled 'To Post' and then about thirty pages of that weird scrambled stuff you get when you try to run a graphics program on a text program.

Having all of this here is creepy. So, I'm posting it, and then deleting everything. Good bye.

You have to understand something important about concepts. They can't exist in a static state or a one time only occurrence, they have to be performed, tested, examined, redone, and then realigned. Always redone over and over again until it's refined to a level of razor sharpness. 


Stories only work if they're constantly retold.


A theory HAS to be restarted and retested. Other wise the data becomes stagnant and useless.


The only problem is that I know soon that I'm going to be worse than useless. Delusional, misleading, I may get people killed. Clever thing made me into a trap. I'm already starting to see things and babble. Time loss is common place now. Set this up, hope it works, continue the Core Theory research, and keep my mind clear of fantasy and drama.


Do NOT involve whomever drops the breadcrumbs. Corruption far too easy, that was my mistake, made gamble, won a little, made bigger gamble, won a bit more, made even bigger gamble, lost it, went all in to get it back, and now I'm not sane anymore. Risk is inevitable, but there's a difference between risk and being stupid. To any I have hurt, I am sorry.


Also, and I hope to God no one is still using them, drop all titles. They're traps now. Variable nature of the creature has adapted to them. 


Hopefully this will start the next round of studies of the Core Theory. It's unreliable, but then again so is my mind. Expect babble and delusions. If by some miracle I'm still alive, try and find me in whatever hole I'm in babbling to myself.


Given up on the idea of weaponry and fighting. It's too counterproductive.


Since I'm losing my mind, losing time, losing myself, I've decided to work on that. The new goal of the Core Theory, other than the Ultimate Neutralization of Him, is to develop a way that Runners can maintain their sanity.


Hopefully, I'll finish this avenue of research before I lose my own.