Wednesday, June 26, 2013


Yellow Eyes. Yellow. Black Mouth. Black Innards. Self sewing back together. Little Strings of black stitching. Finer than any silk. The Head is reattached. The burns are disappearing. Even as water pours out of the wounds we... I inflicted. He is a walking corpse. He is Azoth. They are Azoth. Azoth is so much more than I could have possibly imagined.

They are in darkness, under moonlight and stars. Black Coats and white knives beckoning me forward. Soon now, so soon. The chattering of the things inside them, pulling strings. Guided by the Violet Light. Just go with them. We must just go with them and see the end of this. I'm tired. I quit. Why even bother anymore? Why? Why do we all resist.

Safety in death. Purpose in death. Mind. Sound. Silence. Quiet. The Brute in the Quiet shall feed. It. He. Father they called it. Maybe mine now?

The Red. The King. The Piper. The Jester. The Queen. The Gardener. The Fire Witch. The Pattern Juggler. The Keeper of the City's Keys. Lock. Key. Opening Eden. Swallowed by Silence. Power of a Dead God. Godhood.

It makes so much more sense now. I saw behind the curtain without context but now... Now I see. Dancing Lights beneath Gods. Above Quiet. The Valet of God. The Attendants of God. Brilliant flashes of beautiful, horrible lights of every color and more. They are eyes, ears, life and soul. But without a vessel, impotent. He is a vessel. That is why. The Yellow Eyes. Amber in the sunlight. Father of Monsters, not of blood, but of spirit. They do not know death. They write the laws we all obey, and thus are not bound by them. They rewrite them when it suits them. Yes...

It makes so much more sense now.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Waste of Time

Useless. Wasted trip. There was absolutely nothing to be found in Uriel's shop and even less in the nearby buildings. Except, you know. It.

You know... You know I think something is a bit wrong with me lately. I screamed at It when I saw It just standing there and he... Just watched me. I know... I know he watches everyone like this but... Usually there is not something ELSE going on in the background that he is a part of. Furthermore it... It isn't staring with a hunter's stare. A hunter admires his quarry to a degree. Respects them in a way. This isn't like that... No. This is... Like a Person with a pet. Oh Look master I run, jump and hide and beck and call. I even play with the other pets from time to time. Did you enjoy me barking all sorts of sounds at you master? I know you did.

I shouldn't have though. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. For this complete and utter madness that is. Roland tells me that nothing is wrong with me, that I am not acting out of the ordinary but I swear, I swear I am less... Focused. I think? I don't know anymore. I just... I know something is not right with me. I can prove it. I simply have to look back at the older stuff on this blog and I can see the change. Pointless to ask what caused it. So much has happened. So little EXPLAINED. Questions, questions and vague worthless excuses for answers from CLOWNS and PSYCHOPATHS.

And I know it is becoming more apparent to others. Despite what Roland keeps telling me. I am not fine... He tells me it's stress but it is more than that. We ate at a diner yesterday and people kept giving me odd looks. I thought we might have been in a Proxy town or something, but no. No they were just people. People looking at me. It's funny when you think about it... I remember their eyes watching me but... The rest of their features are blurred and formless. Reminds me of It. Maybe It does have a face, maybe it did... But what we are seeing is a living memory of some faceless stranger in a crowd. Which is all It is really. It is every faceless stranger we've never met. Every scheming, wretched individual hiding behind those formless faces in the depths of memory.

You know maybe that is what Proxies are for... Does It Itself know It exists? Is it aware of Itself? Or is it merely aware that we are aware? If so, what would happen if no one was aware it existed? Would it simply cease to be? But how can something cease to be? It has to go somewhere. It came from somewhere, but where? No. It was always here wasn't it?

Someone speculated this before of course. They received no concrete answer, because no one knows. No one can answer. Not even It. Stupid pointless speculation, how does it live? Does it even have a concept of death. Does it know what that is? It comprehends yes. It comprehends so much but it... It doesn't comprehend in the same ways we do. Maybe it can't.

Where do the Others fit in? The Doctor, the Rake, the Archangel. Nearly Two Dozen, nearly more. Smoke and heat in an empty void, locked in the dreams of a dead city. A Garden and it's Keeper. Mirrors mark the path in the belly of the Mother of Serpents. Water devouring Soma flows through the veins. Knowledge from the Blank Pages of a black, endless library.

Something hungry deep inside. I need it. Ever hungry. Ambrosia. Parched of thirst. Soma will quench it. The Violet and Yellow lights clash with one of deep Red, flecked with Amber. They speak in darkness, under moonlit skies.

The people in that diner saw something was wrong. I know they are right, but I don't know how to fix it, or how bad it is. Roland is the only thing I have to keep track of my mindset, outside of this blog. Useful. He has become very useful. Strange for someone so moronic.

We're going to have to continue driving. I think I'll go back home and see what happens. Nothing better to do. Best to be somewhere familiar, I think. How is everyone else?

Sunday, June 16, 2013


We arrived today at our destination. I will not give a more precise location than Virginia. Roland tells me this is his hometown, which makes sense. We have followed the return address on Morningstar's package here, and that package was sent by Yuri Polzin. Uriel. And Uriel was the one who sent Roland to me... For whatever reason.

We located the building the return address indicates. A recently closed down old Fortune Teller's Shop. The building is connected to a larger more warehouse like building. I am willing to bet that is where Uriel is. Now thus far, we have scouted the area around it, and no sign of any Pale Men or particularly suspicious people. This likely means they are good actors, sneaking around disguised as ordinary people. Psychopaths like Morningstar, dressed up all nicely to hide what they truly are.

We intend to enter it about an hour before this goes up, so expect an update tomorrow if we make it. Hopefully we will have captured Uriel... Now, he appears to be one of those Strange High Level Proxies. They tend to be able to do unusual things according to most accounts. Electricity has worked in the past on It, so I am willing to bet it will work on Uriel... Maybe the jolt will keep him from Pathing Out.

Suppose I should discuss my little talk with the Purple Piper. I gathered this much, he used to be a servant of one of those Things that I have seen be nicknamed "The Rake." Now he is worshiper of his "King" who Med fingered as possibly being a proxy named Redlight. Given the fact the "Court" of this King was adorned in crimson, and the fact Piper mentioned "our blood soaked colors" and that his King "took the crimson mantle up," this makes a lot of sense. More on that in a bit.

The most important bit I got out of his dramatic monologues was what he seemed to indicate my role in all this is. At least for his group's plan. Evidently the King is not as powerful as those Creatures, but knows of a way to even the playing field. Then he said something about a Fire Witch and said I was part of some plan for the King to bring himself to those Creatures level. Obviously I am still missing something as this does not explain why It and It's servants have not killed me to derail this plan. I would assume the Oathbreakers might be in it for the same reason as Piper's Group. Power of some sort.

As for this Redlight proxy, I found it difficult to learn much about his original appearance due to that blog's deletion and resurrection and deletion again and replacement of the writer with a new one. Various other accounts exist of him and from him, however, including a very brief appearance in Morningstar's own blog. Then he died, it seems. Of course nature abhors a power vacuum, like would have been caused by Redlight's demise, and so a new one showed up. New Redlight kept busy for a while, but dropped off the grid for a little while outside of some very select places.

Based on everything I have learned... I really hope he has absolutely nothing to do with this situation. In fact, I don't actually think he does. Look at the evidence. Every other plot he has been involved, he has been very, very open about who he is, and his involvement. This would be extremely out of character I think. Unless that's the point, in order to draw attention away. I simply cannot be sure unless someone who knows anything can confirm it.

I suppose even then it could be a lie. Fuck.

One other thing to discuss. I decided to mix portions of the various substances I have acquired. Azoth, Aqua regia, Hydrochloric Acid, Cuprite, Orpiment and Calamine Lotion. I will be frank in saying I am not entirely sure what it created. I did a very small bit of testing and, despite the high acidity of Aqua regia and Hydrochloric Acid, the compound was not acidic in the slightest. I dipped a spoon in it and it came out fine. Med reported that she tested Hydrochloric Acid on Azoth before and it had "adverse reactions." I noticed no such thing with my test, though I did add the Hydrochloric Acid last. Perhaps one or more of the other substances are causing the inconsistency. End result of all this is thus a strange thin black fluid. Much thinner than Azoth... Not as... Chunky. I'll play with it more some other time. Maybe force Uriel to drink it and see what happens. Wonder if it is a poison, but if so, why not just use something with more common ingredients that doesn't require mixing together.

Questions, questions and more fucking questions. It would be nice if someone could explain things to me in a clear concise manner, as I am clearly an idiot or something.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Purple Piper

Imagine waking up unable to breathe. Ears filling with a shrill tune as you open your eyes and see two empty black holes staring down at you, atop a maw filled with a white-blue light. For just an instant it appears that clutching that flute are two pale hands with long talons, raking themselves across the piper's flesh as he finished his tune. Then as you sit up, gasping for air, you see not the face of some horrific monster, but that of a cheerful man adorned in regal purple. Then he utters the words "Good morning my friend, how have you been faring?"

That is what I awoke to and the my first thought for a response was to leap from bed and run to the door. Only to find I could not open it. The Piper spoke again. "No... No Come now (My Name) you needn't be afraid of me. I am your friend here, as are all of my group. We are your only true friends out here, looking for your well being."

I asked him what he wanted.

"To apologize for our beloved Gardener's past behavior. Morgan is a cruel man, but we are not all like him. His inclusion was a necessary evil... But I am also here to try and make up for our, rather extreme reaction to finally having you safe within our home." He offered a sincere looking smile.

In response I said "You mean imprisoning me until your King could return and do whatever it is all of you plan to do? Are you going to tell me what it is you actually want from me?"

"My friend, calm yourself. I admitted locking you up like that was extreme... But it didn't really matter in the end did it? The Attendants still came to drag you off to their little space between worlds. If anything our protection should have been more extreme. Then perhaps you would not have subjected to that truly awful experience. Do you remember?" He seemed legitimately curious.

I answered. "I am not entirely sure what you are talking about. I remember you imprisoning Roland and myself and then I remember waking up on the floor of a motel a month later."

"I see. My King thought you might have blocked that memory out. The body has extreme reactions to such raw, unfiltered stimuli like that. Things man was never meant to see, and such, my friend."

I asked "So... Are you perhaps willing to answer my questions on all this?"

"That depends on the question, but I am here to try and... Soften your view on us."

"Alright. Answer this then. Who and What are you?"

He smiled a mischievous looking grin. "Once I was the thing in your closet as a child. The thing every child fears when they hide beneath their covers, oh so very aware of that faint little... Creak coming from the closet door. I would sit their hunched over in emulation of my former God, basking in the abject terror of the little child. Then I would play my music and watch as their tiny heartbeats slow to a crawl. Emerging from beneath their bed, or from the depths of their closets, I would press my lips to theirs and extract their sweet, delicious breath until not even a whisper remained in their tiny lungs." He did a twirl and began playing a pleasant tune from his flute. "Afterwords I would go out and join my brothers and sisters at the feet of our God, dancing and singing, howling at the moon and playing my merry little tune... I was a Maenad. Now a servant of a true God. A God of Men, of Mortal Kind." He bowed.

More than a bit disturbed I said. "That may have been too much information... What God did you serve and what God do you now serve?"

"My former lord was the original. The source of all those tales of creatures in the night, lurking just outside of the campfire's light. And when that light is extinguished he would come for his prey, singing sweet songs into their ears, caressing their cheeks even as begins to feed on them. With gnashing teeth and raking claws digging into sweet red flesh... My current God is both deity and King however. He has shown me my error in serving a beast, a false God who sees us as prey or little more chess pieces in some cosmic game. A game mind you, we intend to put an end to permanently." His tone for most of this was jovial, but darkened significantly towards the end.

"Raking claws? You could have just outright said It's name."

"It's name sirrah? Oh no, no, no, no, no... That disrespectful little nickname is one given by It's prey, not by Itself."

"Fair enough... Who is your 'King' and why does he want me?"

"A God in flesh. One who walked among us men, who knew of our struggles and plights. Who was raised by the servants of The Tall Pale God... Born as a toy of The Poison of God, he who is Malkira... One of your chief tormentors in fact. The Yellow Eyed Man. Like the Cyphre boy, my King was one of Malkira's toys. But unlike the broken and mad Cyphre, my King had focus and purpose. For a time, he denied his true calling, seeking to aid mankind... But those he deemed his friends abandoned him, one by one, he came to accept his destiny as our Lord and Savior. Adopting the role he was given by Malkira, he took the crimson mantle up and made it into something more. Something greater than Malkira and his fellow attendants, something greater than the Beast God or the Tall Faceless God. He became a God of Men, and opened the eyes of many others. Myself, Dr. Adler, Morgan, Rhodes, S... Scribe Theta chief among them. Eventually we were even joined by that Jester, a being older than any of us. Further proof of my Lord's divinity and power." Thus he finished without actually answering either of my questions.

"So... Does he have a name? And more importantly, what does he want with me?"

"Divine though he may be... Powerful, yes. But the Faceless God, the Beast God, The Diseased God... All and more still have more raw power. But our King has a cunning plot that will even the playing field and wipe the Black Chess Pieces from the board, replacing them with our blood soaked colors. You, my friend, are a part of this plan. There is something far older and stronger than the Faceless God, in a place where Fear itself dare not tread. The Knave knows the way, but will not open it until the Court has been called to session. That is why we need you. You will be the final member of our Court to dance in the warm glow of the Fire Witch. To unlock the stored power within her once beloved's shell, so that our King may claim it and the heavens."

I nodded slowly and carefully. This Piper is not of a sound mind. "So... The Attendants everyone keeps talking about. Who are they?"

He shuffled around for a moment and had a sour look on his face. "I cannot stay here for far longer. The Attendants know of my interference. My King is blocking them, but they are many and he is one. Soon they shall sneak past and drive me off... As for their nature, think of them as... Parasites and Angels. Crafted from the fragments of creation, born into this world as the heavenly host of the Evil Gods. First came Michael and then the rest. They are wicked creatures. Bored and mischievous, with far seeing eyes and feet that do not heed distance. Many once held cults in the barbaric ages before the Romans. Zalmoxis is one of interest to you. Uriel, the Light of God, the most active nemesis of my King. But there are others. Malkira, the Poison of God, once known as Kemsyt the Priest, now known as Samael. Father of Monsters like Morningstar. There is also Ramael, Lighting of God, Born into a Dutch Man o' War coming from Africa, bearing a Prince in Rags. It was he who massacred the arrogant men and women who attempted to rest control of the Faceless God's Cult from it's faithful. Finally there is Heylel, the one who ferried you from The Grove and took you between worlds. His is a sad tale, as he is a friend to Man. We had hoped he might join our cause, but alas... He feels my King is more Evil than his Gods and siblings. A fool."

Irritated, I told him. "Could you perhaps speak in shorter, less poetic sentences? Get to the point? I thought you said you did not have a lot of time."

He sighed. "My deepest apologies sirrah. Tis just the way I am... Alas, it is time for me to depart, and I do so with one last nugget of advice. The compounds you acquired... Dump them. Dump the King's Water and the Spirits of Salt, Blow the Cuprite and Orpiment to the wind. But above all, be rid of the Azoth. It is dangerous beyond anything you know. The Azoth is the key to Uriel's plot. Be rid of it, or you risk undoing all of our work... Be wary (My Name) Marsh. Your trials only just begun." He played a shrill, painful sound from his flute, causing me to wince. When I opened my eyes, he was gone.

Despite what he said, Roland and I have no intention of dumping everything.... So. Thoughts anyone? I had to really strain to remember every word of those monologues. He was even more long winded than Morningstar... I myself have plenty of thoughts about this, but I am going to hold off on saying them until we find Uriel. Perhaps that will be more enlightening.

Thursday, June 13, 2013


It has been a fairly eventful couple of days. First thing is first. We mailed off Morningstar's pills to the... Address you sent Med. I have absolutely no idea when they will get there.

Second. I went to the post office identified as the drop off point for Morningstar's package. The package was laying outside covered in Yellow Paper Stars and Operator Symbols like some deranged Kindergarten art project. Beneath all the doodles was a box, and in this box were various vials of varying substances. One of which, labelled Spirits of Salt, is almost certainly hydrochloric acid. The other vials were labelled "King's Water", "Auripigmentum", "Cuprite" and "Calamine Lotion." There was also one empty vial labelled "Azoth."

More importantly however, there was a return address here, as well as the name of the Sender's. "Your dear friends, Yuri, Gabe and Samuel." Yuri. Yuri L. Polzin. Uriel. Someone who actually knows what is going on. And now we know where he is. So our next course of action is obvious.

But as obvious as it is, there are equally obvious risks involved. When we saw Uriel last, he was with the largest group of Pale Men I have ever seen, and there were utterly trashing the Oathbreaker's Asylum. This likely means that Pale Men might be hanging around Uriel. But we already captured one Proxy. And really, the only other option is to continue running away, and that has not been working out so great. 

Roland of course agrees with me. This is the most obvious course of action. The only thing we can really do that might have some effect on our predicament.

The Azoth we acquired from Morningstar has yielded little in the way of results. I have poked and prodded it in every way I know how, but there were no new results. I listened to it, but it did not speak. Roland suggested I try to boil the Azoth. Will it become steam if I do? What effect would Azoth have in steam form?  How would it feel?

It is fortunate I had the foresight to save some of Morningstar's Azoth. I filled up the empty vial with it. I now have a full set of... Whatever it is these substances are for. Med reported that Azoth has adverse reactions to Hydrochloric Acid. So how would it react to things like Cuprite and Calamine Lotion. Why Calamine Lotion? 

... I will sleep on it, I suppose. 

Monday, June 10, 2013


I decided to post this AFTER we were certain Morningstar was dead and buried. For all those concerned about him coming back from the dead again, know that I shot him in the head, drove him off to a predetermined location to decapitate and then burn his corpse. We then dropped the remains into a river. Bottom line is, he is dead.

You know, I think I should be feeling some measure of guilt for killing a person. But it really felt like putting down a rabid animal. Besides, he made incredibly easy to dislike him and want him dead. So in a way I suppose... I actually feel rather good about this. It is a pleasant feeling.

Naturally I looked over his corpse for anything useful. One thing stood out. The bullet wound was bleeding black. Complete black. I don't think there was a drop of red in it. I will have to be thorough though, and it is a bit premature to say with certainty, but I suspect this is the substance known as Azoth. The blogger Med has written an excellent post detailing her findings of Azoth, so I shall link that in lieu of parroting essentially the same information. Assuming this is Azoth, I will attempt to... Play with it and see if I can learn anything new about it.

In terms of the interrogation, Morningstar only gave one more interesting statement before his time ran out. He remarked about needing to pick up something from a "drop off point" at midday tomorrow. Said drop off point was a post office, so this will serve two purposes. I intend to see what it is the proxies are doing, as it may involve us, and, assuming I receive a mailing address via E-mail, I will send Med the pills I took from Morningstar, as she requested. He clearly won't be needing them anymore.

Now. I am deeply bothered by something. Morningstar did not escape. He was not rescued. There was no escape attempt and no rescue attempt. There are multiple possible reasons for this.

1. He is expendable. While I assume this is true to some extent, he seemed a bit too involved in whatever is going on. This hunt for me. I don't think they would have simply let him die like that.

2. They don't know where we are. Also unlikely, as I am positive they know our movements. All of them. Or at least, I am going to work under the assumption that they do. That said, we haven't had a visit from the Pale Men in a long time, nor have we seen any actual Proxies outside of Morningstar's group. Perhaps Morningstar was the only one who knew where we were? But then why didn't his group try to rescue him? Theoretically it could be that they don't know our current whereabouts. Again, I doubt this highly.

3. There was an escape attempt, but it failed. I am on the fence about this one. Morningstar has shown varying levels of competence on his blog before. Failures are as common as successes usually due to his own psychosis and quirks. It could be he tried to escape or an rescue was mounted, but it failed so spectacularly that we didn't even notice. Stranger things have happened, and to our credit... We have been very careful.

4. This is all part of some elaborate plan. This is the one that I think is most likely. Everything else has been part of someone's plan, be it Magog, The Court or the Proxies. Perhaps this a bit defeatist to say, but I don't think we turned the tables quite yet. So maybe we should try and kidnap someone who likely doesn't want to be kidnapped. Maybe... Well if we could ambush Morgan perhaps we could catch him. Or we could go seeking out Yuri Polzin and see if we can't capture him. Both clearly know what is going on. Downside is it might attract the Pale Men and the rest of the Court. Morningstar seemed very... Scared of The King. So we'll have to plan this out very well.

Think I am going to bed now. Will be nice to have sleep uninterrupted by that annoying little fuck.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Last Chance

To be honest with you all right now, I am deeply unnerved. Not by Morningstar or Dumah, but rather the lack of anything happening. I was sure a rescue attempt would be made on Morningstar by now. They have always known where we are at all times before, so I suspect they know where we are now. But Morningstar has not attempted to escape. Not REALLY tried I mean. He has given the bare minimum of resistance and makes only a token effort to escape. No sign of Dumah either. I know It does not seem to care much for It's servants, but It has intervened on their behalf before, according to what I have read up on. Now would be an excellent time. But nothing is happening.

Withholding Morningstar's "Medication" is having some clear effect. He is not smiling and laughing anymore. He is constantly glaring, and prefers to answer our question with snarls as opposed to jokes and stories. This has lead to a few interesting little statements from him though. Usually mutterings to himself.

"Stupid Lucky fuck." "Wish they would hurry it up." "Just do it already."

I wonder if he is referring to me as a "Stupid lucky fuck." I can't see why, mind you. But he was definitely staring at me when he said that.

Hurry what up? And who is that directed towards? His team seems likely, but at the same time the next statement "Just do it already" sounds like he wants me to kill him.

Taking Incognitos advice into consideration, we began to refer to him as "Luke" and asking a lot of questions about his parents. The responses were usually snarls, or threats of a more direct nature than his previous ones.

He did answer a question about Morgan's group. The Court. He said that they were "Traitorous fucking psychopaths" going on to mention Morgan as an Ex-Timberwolf, and then discussing a "Carol" who is an Ex-Oathbreaker, before slipping into a rant about "That fucking Doll" and "The Rake's Pied Piper." He then insulted my Uncle's memory and then started hurling insults directed at "Rhodes." When I asked him about their "King" he got quiet for a minute before telling me "Don't talk about him. You really, really don't me to tell you about him." I told him that I do. His response:

"Their King is Evil inside a human meatsuit. One of the Attendant's failed toys. Guess that makes us related, eh? Sammy, Sammy, Samael. Dear Old Dad's most mischievous son and proactive toymaker. But the King is evil, evil and VERY dangerous. Shit. He is the main reason your situation is so fucking out of control. You are not the first either, though he went by a different name back then. You are however, the most important to Father and my Uncles and Aunts."

"Father and my Uncles and Aunts." His "father" is Dumah, so does that make the likes of the Good Doctor and the Archangel example of "Uncles?" If so, I DESPERATELY need Morningstar to explain why. But of course he became very tight lipped after that aside from occasional random swearing.

I kept pressing him for a reply of course. He eventually gave one that answers precisely nothing. "Old uncle Silas knew." Which is both useless and probably a lie, as Silas would have told me if he knew anything. In addition, the fact he is dead now makes it impossible to tell either way.

Morningstar has one more day to live. As useful as he has been, which is to say not very, I will be very happy once he is dead and buried... Well actually we probably won't bury him. Waste of time. Shoot him and let him rot. He deserves worse, but he might actually enjoy it if I tried to torture him.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Limited Progress

First and foremost. Kelevra and Sanna's comments on the previous post have made me rethink my strategy here. I still need information, but Morningstar cannot leave this room alive. Can't risk it. I think... The tenth. 12:00 AM. He will die. I will not allow him to escape and kill any other people, not when I have him here at our mercy. Odds are few people would be this fortunate if he managed to escape again. Of course, I am not going to tell HIM this.

Morningstar's annoyance is clearly growing and he seems far more melancholy. We have acquired a bit of information, though it's usefulness is unclear. For one thing, Morningstar demanded that he be given his medicine. Among the possessions we salvaged from his coat, was a bottle of pills, and fortunately for him I did not immediately trash it. So I asked him what the medicine was for. He told me it was "None of your damn business" and that if he doesn't take a pill every so often, it negatively effects his personality.

Vague, but likely close to the truth, as when he had kidnapped us, I did see him take medicine during a point where he became a bit less talkative. Of course, I did try to find out exactly what medicine it is. The pills themselves are in a Tylenol bottle, but are clearly not themselves Tylenol. Small, red and oval. No markings of any kind. I have examined them as thoroughly as I can, and they are... Strange. Holding them in my hand left small black stains that took a session of intense washing to remove. I think I am confident in my assertion that these are not approved by the FDA.

The pills are possibly a way to get to him, so I figure I would ask him more about them. He remained annoyingly vague about them, but implied that they are not used by most proxies and are specially made for him. When I asked him by who, he said it was "One of Father's Attendants" whatever that means.

I am still considering withholding them, because his blog has shown several of his personality changes, and absolutely none of them are helpful. Perhaps even less so than his current "Stable" one.

But on to the information about our predicament. He told us that he had already given out several hints, and that I should have guessed at least part of it from my involvement with Magog. He then told me that everything is connected. He listed off The Pale Men killing my Uncle Silas, his kidnapping but not killing us, the Archangel sightings, Uriel and the Pale Men's attack, followed by our rescue and imprisonment by The Court. He said "The dots are there if you would just freaking connect them."

Two things are clear from this. Morningstar thinks I am an idiot for not connecting these dots. This probably means the solution is incredibly obvious. The second thing that was clear involved how he said a certain pair of words. "The Archangel." The manner in which he said it sounded sarcastic. I will be pressing this particular point hard. If I am reading him right, he thinks that entity that looked exactly like Silas, who is dead, carrying a sniper rifle and sometimes wearing a gas mask and long coat, who also started appearing immediately after Timberwolves stole our computers, is NOT in fact the Archangel. I should be relieved, but I also suspect Morningstar has no idea what he is talking about. I don't know of anything else it could be.

I have already pressed him to elaborate on these easily connected dots, as I am "Clearly a moron."

He said "Well... The dot trail CAN get confusing a bit in the later parts. Especially since that ignorant amateur Magog blundered into all this with only the dimmest idea of what was going on. Yeah. You were REALLY fucking STUPID to go with him. Forced everyone to rearrange the pieces on the board and act a way too openly. Serves us right for assuming you were fairly smart."

When I asked him who "everyone" was, he just rolled his eyes and asked "Who the hell do you think?"

Obviously him, Uriel, and The Court. Maybe more, maybe not...

That about covers it, unfortunately. Going to try again tomorrow. Withholding the medicine for as long as possible. Anyone have any advice to speed this along? Or pick up on any details I might have missed within the information he has given?

Friday, June 7, 2013

Role Reversal

Despite myself, I am truly enjoying this. It has only been a bit over two days since we decided on this course of action, and we have already succeeded...

I can only assume this is a trap of some sort. But at the same time, this is too good an opportunity to pass up and I... Can't help but be a bit giddy about the whole thing. We have Morningstar tied to a chair, completely at my mercy. We merely doubled back into the city we found him and those various others, and searched for any sign of his group. Then, early in the Morning, we happened upon him standing around outside near an alley, looking around and checking his phone. He clearly didn't see us, so we very quickly tried to run him over. As expected, he noticed us and jumped out of the way. I believe I heard him say "What the Fuck Man" before I opened the door and tased him. Then I tased him several more times before clubbing him over the head with a large metal pipe and dragging him into the vehicle. It was... Remarkably cathartic. Keeping him alive instead of continuing to beat him until he has stopped breathing has proven significantly less pleasant.

I am taking precautions with him of course. Roland and I are both keeping armed at all times. I smashed every device Morningstar was carrying with him. A watch, a cellphone, an iPod among other things. Tossed his knives out as well. Removed his shoes, gloves, hat and coat as well and threw them out. He is chained, tied up, handcuffed and is wearing several chinese finger traps... Don't laugh, it is honestly the best we could do. I tried adding iron bars to the design to keep them from breaking, at Roland's suggestion, but we'll see how that goes. We have also poured a line of salt around him because... Honestly I saw it on a TV show once, where the heroes had to trap a demon. Seems fitting in this situation. I only regret we have no method of creating a sufficiently strong magnetic field on hand. I keep expecting him to be there one moment and gone the next. Instead I still find him squirming and pulling against the chains.

Despite all this, of course, I suspect he wanted to be caught. Can't think of a good reason for him to have been alone out there at night. Though he has put up a fight, and he continues to tell us that everything has "gone according to plan," that he "wanted to be caught" and that soon "our doom will be upon" us etc etc. I do believe him.

Interrogation itself, beyond the threats, has proven slow and annoying. He keeps whining about not being fed properly, wanting a glass of water and... Well he devolves into rambling stories and terrible jokes. I was sick of his voice long before this and he is driving me very much insane right now.

I do however have a plan. Morningstar strikes me as simultaneously hard and simple to break. Hurting him is clearly not the answer, despite him whining about a headache and possible concussion. I have already treated him for the damage we caused to ensure he is capable of giving useful answers. However, for as annoying as he is to talk to, I believe that is the key. If we keep him rambling and continue jerking the conversation onward, asking the same questions over and over again, I think he will eventually get annoyed to the point where he will answer with useful information. I don't think he physically knows how to shut the hell up.

Of course there is the risk of him giving false or faulty information. So we intend to keep asking he same questions over and over again beyond the point where he has started to visibly get annoyed. If he changes the story, we will document it and try to piece together the whole truth from the fragments. That said, the first things I hope to ask involve "The Court" and the Oathbreakers. Them being enemies with Morningstar, I am hoping he will be more inclined to give information about them. The Whys and Whos and all that.


Did I mention he whines constantly? Because I have not had a moment's peace in hours. Fucking hours. I swear to GOD he has to sleep sometime. Roland is currently sleeping himself to ensure that one of us is keeping an eye on Morningstar at all times.

Let me make something clear here. I am typing this post during the points in our conversation that Morningstar goes off on a tangent. This is a frequent occurrence, so please forgive me if I am sounding a bit stressed, angry or just... Unpleasant. Because I want to break his fucking neck right now. And if he refers to himself as "Dr. Morningstar" one more fucking time, I am going break at LEAST one of his bones. He is not a Doctor. He never was and never will be. Christ. Jesus Christ. It makes a mockery of my old profession and the profession of several friends of mine.

God above I hate this man. Every sentence he utters is a crime against humanity.


And he is so happy about himself. All these stories he keeps telling me, in between threats, just seem to cause his eyes to light up and makes him do that stupid fucking laugh of his. And he keeps fucking laughing. Clowns do not laugh as much as this guy. One of his parents must have been a Hyena... You know maybe that is something. Divert his attention to his past. Maybe he will give me something I can use here. Maybe I should ask about his parents and sibling. His blog shows he dislikes talking about those things so maybe...


... Actually that might have been a breakthrough. Lets hope and see.


Okay. Ten Minutes later and he has been dead silent and is just staring at me. This is heavenly. Him, not talking. Wonder how long it will last... He does not look mad per se. He is just staring at me blankly.... Maybe I should make sure HE didn't have a stroke or something. Jesus. Wouldn't that be nice?


Okay then. Ten more minutes and he has still not said anything. He seems fine, and is clearly aware. Pulse is normal, if a bit on the slow side. Will see if I can get anything relevant out of him within the next hour. After that, I am going to sleep and Roland will be up. This post will be scheduled for Midnight, so I will add on information once he has escaped or given useful information. So if this post ends here, odds are Morningstar has continued giving the silent treatment. Part of me hopes he does, at least for a bit longer.

Oh and I cannot remember if I said this already, due to my splitting headache, but once I learn what I need to, I am putting this son of a bitch out of our misery. For Good.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Quick Update

We caught one. We actually kidnapped a proxy. Am shaking. Really didn't think we could do it. Especially considering who we caught. Will talk about the circumstances surrounding it after we are sure he is secure. Taking all possible precautions we can manage. Lucky we didn't get stabbed. Can't believe we were able to catch him off guard like this.

Suppose sanity does have it's advantages after all.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Never Trust a Proxy

You'd think I would have learned by now. If I may quote Fracture here:

"Seeing how you two morons keep sneaking off to secluded locations and getting kidnapped with no one around to help you, maybe you should go to a city where people are. Then if something happens someone can be there to help you, like a police man or something.

New York, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, Chicago, Washington D.C., Tampa, Atlanta, ect.

Divided you fall gentlemen."

This is exactly what we did. I have to wonder Fracture. Did you know that advice would turn out this shitty? Or was that a legitimate attempt to be helpful. Either way, I am no longer taking anything you say into consideration anymore.

I am not even going to bother going into details about the insanity that happened. Suffice to say, it involved Morningstar, Oathbreakers, Morgan, Sword wielding maniacs, a large bus, and at least one coffee shop and a warehouse.

I am fortunate to be alive.

I did learn something useful though, and that is that Morgan and his group do not like Proxies at all. The feeling is clearly mutual. I also learned, obviously, that there are still Oathbreakers after us.

So let me review. I have four, possibly six, groups after me and of them, I know that most don't want to kill me. I also know I want them all to die horribly, which is a problem considering one of the groups seems to consist of immortal monsters. Potentially immortal, actually... I really do need to capture one of those...

You know... That isn't actually a bad idea. I keep getting kidnapped, or attempted kidnapped... So why don't I turn the tables and try kidnapping someone myself so they can explain exactly what in the nine hells is going on here.

So I need to decide two things. One, which group do I need to target. We have the Proxies, represented by Morningstar... And believe me, I would love nothing more than to give that piece of shit a taste of his own fucked up medicine... We have "The Court" represented primarily by Morgan, so it seems. We have the Oathbreakers, who we have no idea the names of aside from Magog, who may or may not be dead. We have the Pale Men, lead by that Uriel or Yuri Polzin person. We have this other group from two days ago... And we have... Maybe... Timberwolves? I haven't seen the Archangel lately, but I am assuming this is not over yet...

The second thing I need to decide is how to go about kidnapping someone who knows what is going on. I myself and not well versed in the art of kidnapping. So... Any Advice anyone? I'd rather not give away what resources we have on hand or anything but... Assume we have at least a net and a taser. But really, if anyone has any more ideas, I would love to hear them. I've basically given up on my own thoughts and ideas, because they clearly are useless in this current situation.

Saturday, June 1, 2013


Beggin everyone's pardon but this post ain't meant for anybody but Echo, causewe got seperated and it's a long story and a really hope he is checking this damn thing

Cell Phone broke in the fall, can you please get your ass over to the spot I thought we agreed on? I don't think I w's followed, so hurry. Gonna get off this damn thing and into a hiding spot. Giving you 30 minutes before I leave your ass behind, cause this was a bad idea.

Friday, May 31, 2013

A New Direction

These past few weeks... Or is it months now? However long it has been, Dumah has been less prominent in my life. Of course it doesn't last. I am an idiot to have held on to any hope of It actually staying away.

Around 4 PM... I refuse to say what timezone... I felt this... Shivering force. I turned around and found It about a foot away from me, with It's tendrils out. Been a while since I have seen them. Been even longer since I felt them...

The reminder was extremely unpleasant. It choked me... I am hoping to find something useful from the experience, but all I remember is the cold of It's touch. And then waking up in the middle of nowhere. In the woods, naturally.

Of course Roland was only somewhat concerned, as he seemed to think I was kidnapped again. But that idiot's opinion isn't important. Analyzing the situation is. Or perhaps, could be, as I suspect it is a pointless endeavor.

My theory of it's pointlessness is backed up by yet another inconsistency. It appeared and It attacked. No standing, no waiting... No electronic interference.  Why? Who knows.

What is interesting is the fact It didn't kill me. Morningstar's threat two posts ago comes to mind. Perhaps I am in no danger of being killed at all. They just want me to suffer? Perhaps I can use that? Or perhaps they simply want me to do something exceedingly reckless, and laugh as I die horribly. As always, I will err on the side of caution.

That said, we have a new strategy to put into play. I cannot say more, as I would prefer Morningstar and Fracture and... Anyone else reading this not know.

Now... I think I should mention my current medical issue. I at first believed I suffered a mini-stroke of sorts, as Roland's description of me, following his awakening, seems to fit the bill. I also clearly had a seizure prior. Now I am suffering from... Amnesia of a sort. Not entirely unexpected given the cliches involved with those running from It and It's ilk. The Memory loss is rather specific though. Everything my last post mentioned is gone. I have no idea what I was talking about, aside from what I could infer from the ramblings...

As I see no harm in asking... Care to shed some light on my situation Morningstar? You seem to be more heavily involved than I thought originally, so... Care to be helpful?


Looking over this post, I am a bit... Confused. I was attacked by Dumah today. Earlier, yes, but that has happened before and my responses tended to be more... Distressed and confused. Now this could just be me getting jaded about the whole thing, but I'm not sure that's how this works. I can overlook nothing and can assume nothing. So why am I so blase about this? Or... Maybe I am just paranoid.

Goddammit I hate this...

Sunday, May 26, 2013


Okay. Well I... I really don't know where ta start. It's Roland again, if you can't tell. Beena long while, I know. I ain't sure what to really say. Last thing I knew, I was in my cell. Then I woke up in some tiny motel in the middle o nowhere. Looked over and saw Echo looking like he was havin a seizure or something. I wasn't sure what was happening. Then he just stopped and looked around all confused like for a minute er two. Neither of us knew what day it was, and when he checked... Well. It's been a month.

Echo looked bad. Like he'd been crying his eyes out and just been sitting on the ground. So I checked the blog for him, just in case, and found that weird post. Now, I been trying to make sense of it while Echo's been out of it, and it seems ta me like it was wrote in the wrong order. Best I can figure, Morningstar and a "Yellow Eyed Man" were here in this hotel room and left us some keys. Cannibal bastard's comments lend some... Creedence? Credence? Whatever that word is, to my theory. Also some rambling about an Old Man who got us out of that... Place. Hope he killed Morgan, cause it seems like he did something to Morgan, based on what I can tell.

I met the motel manager to try and get some information and... Well... Ever seen that old Hitchcock movie called Psycho? I think we are checked in to the real life version of the Bates Motel. That manager was a proxy. Bet my life on it. So I went back and told Echo, and he immediately started packing up, and told me that we'd figure out what the hell just happened later. I told him to pack it himself and that I was getting far away from him. And can ya blame me? I got kidnapped by those beaked freaks and then sent into what was probably the hell the bible spoke of. All cause he was willing to walk right into a damn trap. And another thing, he locked me out the account, so I was cut off from asking for help from the people that might know a thing or two. All cause of spite. That ain't right, and believe me, I really wish I could leave his ass behind right now.

Unfortunately, the Hotel Manager and staff knocked on the door and "advised" me help Echo along. Now I ain't a real smart fella, but I know a threat when I hear one. Specially since it was clear they was spying on us.

Least Echo apologized, though he wasn't too clear about it. He thinks he had a stroke or something. But he don't want to be taken to the hospital. Can't say I blame him myself. What's worse, is he keeps telling me that the Tall Fella is close by. Now I ain't seen him myself lately, but the radio's been acting real funny at times, in this new van Cannibal Bastard left us.

So we're driving along, and stopping on occasion to rest, or in this case write a post. I gotta ask. Anybody out there that ain't Fracture or Morningstar got any advice? I got no idea where to go or what's going on now. So any advice or offering of help would be mighty welcome right now.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013


Three Days. The Entire time... Outside the storm of dust and ash gave way to a black rain. He slept the entire way, but I remained awake. It has been Three Days. Oh God... Since I saw sunlight again, after leaving that hell. Burning liquid. Roland was with me, but he is sleeping. I was awake the entire time... Cold but burning. The Old Man came to my cell, and the walls ran black and wet.

He held out his hand, and I took it. He called himself an Attendant of God. There was no other choice. Morgan arrived, but the Old Man subdued him. The Old Man smiled a kindly smile. Beneath the surface of the Old Man's skin, was black fog. Told me that he could get me out. Those gray eyes felt understanding and... Human.   He told me to sleep. The Alarm was raised. The Storm filled with crimson droplets amid the sea of black. I didn't.

Opaque glass that had been cracked, revealing holes in the outside. It was so Quiet. There was a violet light, pulsing slowly with purpose. When I opened my eyes, I saw Nothing. The words had meanings that I did not know. My mind felt like... I could tell which were speaking! And the Outside was beyond my comprehension. Their words though... An End to Everything. There was a yellow light, struggling and writhing. No light, no sound, no meanings. I had to look away. They seemed to have voices... Yes I could! It was not three dimensional, maybe not even dimensional at all. Finally there was a grayish light, larger than the others. Yes. It was so vast, yet so empty. I looked above and found darkness, with many writhing lights dancing above. It was without sense. That I could not know.

But I remained awake. But they were not all. Those dancing lights... Floating in the emptiness. I watched for so long... Roland was with me. It felt like eternity. Floating in the emptiness. Occasionally more would come, of many shades of colors. Above them. Sleeping. Above the lights I saw Them. A deep dreamless sleep. I saw It.

I saw It's true face. The Faces of God.

Nothing made sense. I watched until I felt the gray light envelop me. I was tired. He placed a set of keys on the coffee table. I spent a month there. Nothing will ever be right again. Space twisted. There I lay, beside Roland, until I saw the sun rise and set two times. Dumah was there, watching. I felt the air die as I was gently placed upon a hotel bed. I checked the date. I was thirsty and hungry. Morningstar was there, with a Yellow Eyed Man. May 21, 2013. I slept until the sun had set once again. I could not understand it. Waiting for me to recover, so the game would begin again. The Yellow Eyed Man said something to him. Then I rose and looked outside. I could not close my eyes. It had been nearly a month. Nothing was right. I spent a month with Them.

Help Me Help Me Help Me Help Help Help Help Help

I will forget. Ignorance. I must forget. I must cut the memory out of me. I must not know. I must never know. I must never know. I must never know. I must never remember. Ignorance is happiness. I must not know. Knowledge is madness. Knowledge is sorrow. A sweet bliss. 

Friday, April 26, 2013

Into the Fire Part 2

It is said Madness is a concept that has no physical form. You can point at... Say... Morningstar, and say "That is Madness incarnate" but you would be wrong. Madness Incarnate is not a person... It is a place. I have seen it. I have stared deeply into it. I type this even now in the Heart of Madness, in the dungeons beneath The Devil's Throne. Outside is nothing but ash... Wicked chains littering the ground, distant echoes of wailing torture. The stink of burning flesh is SUFFOCATING... I am in the realm of a Dead God, in the clutches of The King of Hell. My Charon, was the Gardener of the Devil's Court. His name is Morgan.

He drove us away from the Asylum, speeding like a madman. I could see lights coming from the cells. A fire had started. Good. Burn all the evil there away... Of course from the ashes, something new will rise. Probably just as bad.

Our driver remained silent. Roland thanked him for rescuing us.... His expression was... A sneer. A scowl? It was unpleasant whatever it was. Roland asked his name. He introduced himself as Morgan Sturn, The Gardener of the Court. I asked him he was going to go back for The Piper. He simply said "No."

Being an obviously antisocial sort, and given his general expression and tone indicated an extreme amount of dislike or flat out hatred... The rest of the trip was in Silence.

We stopped at an old farmhouse. Morgan ordered us to get out. We did so, and he followed. He forced us into the old home, pushing and telling us to "Move it." It was a small creaky building, with a couch and a rocking chair and an old time Television in the middle of the room. I remember thinking that the place felt unpleasant.

Morgan moved us towards the center of the room and, and he started doing... Something. The next second it was as if the entire world began burning... The stink of death, fire and ash filled the air and... My eyes were clouded and watering. Smoke was everywhere. It was around us, it was within us. The floorboards, the walls, the ceiling... All was flame and smoke. I felt I was spinning in a whirlwind of ash, a tornado of fire... When it stopped I felt a hot breeze and Morgan grabbed our collars and shoved us through the smoke. When we emerged outside, I was in shock at what I saw. I heard Roland mutter a plea to God and his angels... They weren't listening. I doubt they ever were, to allow something like this place to exist.

An Endless expanse of white, clouds of ash rising through the air. Faint echoes of... Screams and weeping. Morgan pushed us forward, and we climbed atop a steep hill made of bright gray dust. At the summit we looked down and beheld a lake of fire, breathing smoke and ash high into the hidden sky. I turned to Morgan expecting some kind of answer for what I as seeing. He merely glared at me and told me to get moving. As we walked, Roland told me he thought he saw figures within the fire, burning and screaming.

Surely this was Hell.

We walked and saw the gray ash harden and turn black. The silhouette of a structure was visible nearby, though the details were obscured by the wildly blowing ash. Roland got caught on something buried within the dust. He pulled out a long chain and yelped when the wicked barbs cut into his skin. I saw a charred bone attached to the chain. I remember being more careful as I walked, feeling a crunch beneath my feet all too often. It was as if we were treading upon the remains of an army of prisoners, chained together in fire.

The structure remained a hazy mirage even as we walked into it's very maw. Inside it we entered a long hallway as a gate slammed shut behind us of it's own accord. Morgan kept driving us forward, and so I could not take in the details of the hallway. It's color was overwhelmingly Crimson. The bloody color was almost blinding as we entered a large chamber.

The Court.

It was a large hall saturated with Red. In the center was a large firepit, filled with hot coals and faint embers. Despite the lack of a fire, I found myself unable to look upon it for very long. It filled my heart with a blind panic I had not felt in some time... Since my last encounter with It.

Across the room at the head were two thrones. The larger of the two was empty, while the other seated a dark haired woman in a black waxen robe, with a silver mask in her lap. Her face was cruel. Standing near her was a strange man dancing around silently. He wore a yellow hoodie and a mask with a painted smiling face on it. His dancing stopped as he noticed us. The last was a tall, thin man in a well kept suitcoat and fedora, held tipped over his eyes, with bright red hair drawn into a ponytail and a small, mocking grin.

"Well, well well, look what the hellcat dragged in." he said.

Morgan scowled in reply, as the black robed woman rose up to greet us with a shark's smile.

"Uriel was there, milady. I assume Piper stayed behind to stall him. Where is the King?" Morgan asked the woman.

"The King anticipated this, so don't fret. He is busy holding Uriel back at the moment..." She replied before looking to the other two. "Go ensure The Piper escaped alive." She told them.

The Dancing man bowed and seemed to distort the air as he vanished suddenly. "Geez, I always get the busywork...Ah well, one Piper, coming right up." The other said, giving Morgan a mocking wink as he turned with a swish of his coat, seeming to vanish into the shadows of the throne.

Morgan grumbled something under his breath as the woman beckoned us forward.

"I am the Queen of this Court. I wish to welcome you to the Grove of Fetters my darlings... Oh. You must be tired out from your little adventure with that imbecile Magog. Come." the Black Queen said as she walked towards a dark door on the left side of the hall.

We followed of course. No where to go if we did escape. I knew I did not like these people... Even more than Magog they gave me a horrible feeling just to be around. The Black Queen chatted to no one in particular as we walked, and Morgan remained silent. I noticed he kept one hand near his sword the whole way.

"Our dearest Gardener and our beloved Pattern Juggler do not get along very well. I am afraid. You'll have to forgive their clear disdain for each other. They ought to know better when we have guests, especially ones as distinguished as yourselves..." She said.

"Apologies milady... Rhodes is scum though. It was a mistake to recruit him." Morgan said in response.

To my surprise, the Queen stopped and turned to face Morgan.

"Are you saying our King made a mistake? If you like, I can tell him you think you know better than him when it come to recruiting allies." She said with a horrible smile.

Morgan winced visibly, which is quite telling in my opinion. "No... I would prefer it if you kept that to yourself, milady. Apologies..." he said.

She turned and continued walking until we entered what appeared to be a prison of sorts. Morgan drew his sword completely as he followed behind us.

"My apologies darlings. While we would like to have you free and roaming around... We just cannot trust you to behave, based on your actions while being held by Magog. Don't worry though, I assure you we will be kind hosts, doing everything in our power to ensure your stay is... Comfortable." She said as Morgan forced Roland into a cell.

Then it came to be my turn as we entered a different cell block... Which is where I am even now. This computer is one of the things meant to make me "comfortable." A small slit of a window provides light and allows for some sound to come through from outside... It makes sleeping difficult. Night and day look no different here, and the screaming never stops. But the worst thing? I think I am losing my mind in here. It doesn't make sense. The door is not locked. But I open it and it opens INTO my cell. It is... Hahaha. It can't be real. It is physically impossible. Seeing Monsters do things like this, I can believe. But I am walking through a door into the room I walked out of. And the screams just don't fucking stop. The rain is fire. Storms blow ashes with such force I cannot believe the window does not crack...

Morgan and the Piper have been by to deliver food and water a few times. Piper at least bothers to give the pretense that we are "guests."

I have yet to see this "King." Piper mentioned that the King is being delayed by Uriel. Apparently once the King arrives, Roland and I will be released. So now, all I can do is wait. Wait in the depths of Pandaemonium's dungeons, until what I fear to be the Devil comes to set us free... My question becomes...

Free to do what?

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Into the Fire Part 1

We are alive still. Out of the frying pan and into... Hell, more than likely. Heh. Magog was onto my escape plans... I didn't get far before getting tased and locked up. For some incomprehensible reason, they want ME for something.

I have come to find out they are not the only ones.

Roland and I were of course in seperate cell blocks. I was in darkness for about three days... Still fed well, but kept locked up in a padded cell in a block full of gibbering madmen. I think I cracked a bit by the second day... I was raving right along with them. Then I heard the music playing. A small... Joyous sound. It was soothing.... I felt my eyes shut and I heard the mad raving silence as the music echoed through the dark hall.

I was barely awake when it stopped. I came to the cell door and peered out the hole given. The Oathbreaker guards were on the floor, sleeping. But I also another man. He was carrying a flute and dressed in... I can only describe it as overwhelmingly purple renaissance fair gear. He looked ridiculous.

Then I saw him remove the masks of the Oathbreakers and put his lips to theirs. With each one, I saw a faint... Light of a color I cannot describe, rising from their throat into the stranger's mouth. They stopped breathing when he had finished. I saw him lick his lips and look at me through the hole with a cheery smile.

I backed away from the door, for what good it would have done had he been there to kill me. He opened the door and took a bow, introducing himself as "The Piper of the Court." He told me "The King of the Court" wished to have an "Audience with me."

I told him that if he was breaking me out, we had to go free Roland before I would come. To my surprise, he agreed to do so. So I followed him out. Isn't it laughable? This insanity? I didn't even question it at the time. Ha. I just... Followed the Purple Piper, trusting that we would keep his word.

I suppose I didn't really have a choice though, did I.

Roland was surprisingly happy to see me. Turns out the Oathbreakers mentioned my escape attempt and started playing mind games with him about my fate. Ha. Proxies and Oathbreakers are not as dissimilar as they think.

Of course there was no teary eyed reunion or anything so dramatic. We had no time. The Piper ushered us out and informed us that we would be escaping in a truck parked nearby. Before he could expand, we heard shouting, some angry and some afraid. I saw Piper smile wide as he told us not to worry.

"The King anticipated this. In fact, it is why I am able to rescue you fine gentlemen tonight."

I asked him what was going on.

"The harsh Light of God shines down on this place. It will burn away all of Magog's petty little coven. Uriel comes, and your 'Pale Men' come with him... Make haste now, as I would rather not have a confrontation with one of Them."

I honestly still have no idea what he was talking about when he said "The Light of God." But as for this Uriel, Roland was able to explain that one.

So we "made haste" for the nearest window. Unfortunately, I saw those black cloaked bastards down below. More disturbingly, I saw around half a dozen. We only thought there were four of them... And there were clearly more inside the building, judging by the sounds of fighting.

Most of the other windows were too close to the Pale Men, so we moved towards another hallway. I tripped over a dead Oathbreaker on the way. I think I had a conversation with him a few days ago... Strangely though, I cannot say I am sad he is dead. Maybe it is for the best. Nevertheless, we moved on but stumbled into a... A sea of darkness. Only it wasn't the night. It was the blackness of long coats and black hats. Illumination coming from pale skin and shining knives.

In front of them was a strange man in an indigo robe. He looked like a... Stereotypical fortune teller. Appropriate, as Roland recognized the man as "Yuri L. Polzin." Not a familiar name? Roland mentioned him in an early post as a local fortune teller that directed him to ME after he started seeing Dumah.

And what does this revelation mean?

... I honestly have no idea. Obviously the man sent the Pale Men after us, but I STILL don't know why. Piper knows. The rest of "The Court" knows. But they won't tell me. Or let me leave for that matter. In fact, I am only being allowed to use this computer because I BEGGED them.

Do I sound a bit blase about this? If so. It's because I am. This is the THIRD TIME I have been captured by someone.

I suppose I might vent on here later, assuming they don't do whatever it is they plan to use me for first. I'll get to it in a minute.

So. Uriel immediately turned and smiled at Roland, saying.

"Roland! My dearest of all friends! How have you been? I see you made it to Dr. Marsh alright... Have my cherubim been providing you will all sorts of... eh... Entertainment?

And Dr. Marsh... Or Jon, if you will allow me to call you that. So good to finally meet you in person. I am sure we will become... eh... fast friends, in the regrettably little time you have left in this world. If you... eh... would kindly come with me, I can promise you... All the answers you seek, and didn't know to seek, will become... eh... Clear."

The man sounded like Germussiastantian Dracula. Roland was too in shock seeing him to reply. I myself was too scared. Piper stepped in front of us and I saw Uriel cock his head to the side at a strange angle, his eyes shining a strange violet in the dark. Piper told us to run the other way as fast as we could until we get out. Our escape driver would be waiting nearby.

Who am I to question a soul stealing carnie. Haha.

So we ran away, down the winding halls, and the Pale Men and Oathbreakers were too busy to impede us. The Pale Men were chattering away, with that strange insect clicking... Just not stopping no matter what the Oathbreakers threw at them. They were using guns, clubs, saws... Anything they could get their hands on. But the most they were able to do is get the Pale Men to fall. But they always got back up. You know, I refuse to believe all Proxies or Oathbreakers are evil sadists. So odds are, some of the men here didn't deserve to die like this... But they did. The Oathbreakers were panicking horribly.

The various different Pale Men... And I use "various" loosely... Were simply unstoppable in such numbers. It reminded me of a swarm of insects... An army of ants marching forward on their prey. Slow and juggernaut, but utterly unstoppable. None of them seemed different from the others... Black wide brimmed hats, long dark coats.... Bone white skin, hairless heads and dead blue eyes. The only variation was in height and weight. Their knives possessed the same gleam in the dim light... Only the different patterns of the wet blood coating them could set them apart. Even then, they all eventually become a solid red... They took little notice of us, instead focusing on their panicking prey. The fear is a weakness that they can sense, I think. So we remained ignored and forgotten as we made our escape.

Until we ran into Magog that is. I saw him ram a Pale Man's head through a computer monitor and begin yelling at us.


The Pale Man got back up and distracted Magog further, until he smashed some bottle of clear fluid on it's head. It went down once again. But they never stay down. They don't die. We tried, we tried, we tried. Magog took the opportunity to calm down and threaten me in a more characteristic way.

"Get back in your Cell, or I will amputate your legs and drag you back myself"

He almost took some steps towards us to try it. The Pale Man was having none of it though. Who are you supposed to root for in that fight... Even if it is obvious who would win. Heh. The worst part of it all is that are worse things than the Pale Men out there in the dark... Not just Dumah... You know, that name has become inappropriate. He isn't an angel. He is a God. And here I sit in the Devil's House, hiding from God's Light.

So we left Magog to his fate... I wonder if he died. Or rather, how he died.... I suppose however it happened, he deserved worse. Remember... Me discussing those "Afflicted" that I merely caught glimpses of? Well I saw a few. In the confusion some had escaped and were mindlessly shuffling around the back exit.  The Pale Men gave them little thought... Imagine Bones wearing sewn up suits of meat. Imagine that meat coming alive with billions of tiny bacteria and cancerous cells of such potency they give a life to every square inch of that meat. Imagine it trying to rip itself apart to end the living hell is calls a life. Imagine the blood from wounds trying to open and shut. The pus pouring from rotting sores. Eyeballs swollen and a veritable rainbow of variants of red, brown and yellow. Glossy and dull. When they were even visible from all the swelling. I saw torsos swollen from the stomach trying to devour itself with acid. I saw feet missing all skin and many chunks of flesh, leaving a trail of blood and stinking meat as the Afflicted shambled mindlessly around...

And they talked too. They babbled. Introduced themselves over and over. Talked about loved ones. Dreams and aspirations. Repeating endlessly and in contradictory ways. Some even mistook the babblings of the others for their own thoughts. Others simply sat on the ground and made sounds like crying or laughing. Picking at the decaying flesh that made up their bodies.... And the exit was past them.

We had to hug the wall to escape. It was... Nerve wracking. If just one of them touched us. Bled on us... Spat or vomitted on us. God only knows what would have happened. But we made it unmolested. We opened the door and we took off running away from the Asylum Grounds... I was almost too scared to look back. To see if any Oathbreakers, Afflicted or Pale Men were following.

When I did turn, I was grabbed by a Pale Man. Roland stopped and... Looked for a moment at me. Hesitating of course. It didn't matter. As I tried to keep the thing's knife from my gut, I heard a bang and the Pale Men fell, for a time. I looked and saw The Creature wearing Silas' face, with it's rifle in hand in a tree. It pointed towards the road and smiled.

So we followed the direction of an abomination... A large truck drove up from a hidden spot in some trees, and it's doors swung open. Inside was a Large man with dark blonde hair and deep blue eyes, in a set of navy blue kevlar armor, with a large claymore beside him.

We climbed in with him and he sped off.

So we let ourselves get taken prisoner again.

Would have been better off just letting the Pale Men finish us. Hindsight is a terrible thing. Ha.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Plan B

Alright. I expect I have at least... An Hour to get this damned post up. It was clearly a stupid move to trust psychopathic cultists whose name indicates untrustworthiness. I know I was rambling last post about suicide, but I do NOT WANT TO DIE. But I have NOT been idle. I have been taking every SECOND they are not looking at me to get ready for war. A lot of Molotovs and a few homemade bombs. Also going to call in the Police if I can... They will at least cause SOME confusion with the Oathbreakers...

If I don't post tomorrow, I probably failed.

To explain why this happened, I caught Oathbreakers bringing Roland of all people into the Asylum. I asked what was going on and Magog told me that he thinks the Pale Men are actually after Roland, and not me and that I just happened to be with him when the Pale Men attacked.

That seems INCREDIBLY unlikely to me. I then made the likely stupid decision to bring up what Morningstar recommended I ask in the comments a few posts ago. Something about "The Brute" and "Metatron."

Magog didn't like me asking that. His expression was... Alarmed, to say the least.

After returning inside, saying I was going to my room, I went to speak to Magog's Aide, a guy named Chimera. I started asking about the Plan. I told him Magog had informed me about The Brute and Metatron. So I asked him what the next step was. He told me he was surprised Magog told me, and that the next step was getting into "The City."

I was interrupted by Magog storming in and demanding I go back to my room. Which I did, to type this.

So I am thinking I will call the cops, start a few fires to distract the Oathbreakers, grab Roland as a meatshield at the very least... All the idiot is good for... Then get the hell out.

Wish me luck.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Current Events

The Oathbreakers are now looking for something... This is not worrying me. What does worry me are the pains they are taking with me. I was expecting to be forcibly inducted into their cult by now. Or given some sort of ultimatum. Or simply wake up in one of those padded cells. Just... Something.

It is amusing in a way. I keep checking the food they give me... Rather generous amounts given my guest status. I wake up every morning and check every inch of myself, in case I was injected with something in the night. But there never is anything suspicious. Nothing unusual... Everything is Normal.

Which, obviously, is itself unusual.

The Oathbreakers themselves are ever chipper towards me. It is becoming unnerving. I have seen how they act towards each other, and it is very different from the attitude they display towards me. They seem to act arrogantly and ill tempered with one another. But with me it is all smiles and handshakes.

There is obviously something going on here beyond what they are telling me. I am not stupid, but neither are they. If I have begun to notice something is off about this, they have likely noticed I have noticed. So if I were them, I would try to speed along whatever it is they are planning. Otherwise, I would become a danger. Right?

I don't know anymore.

Having trouble looking at myself in the mirror. Mind is barely analyzing all that is going on. I just want to sleep.

Watched one of their side experiments the other day. Some kind of virus. The woman's flesh was rotting... It wasn't painful I think. She seemed more horrified at the sight than the feel. I wonder if the pain would have made it better. Pain numbs the brain... With so much pain it can't process correctly. But this? That women knew what was happening to her. She knew every detail and she watched herself... Her skin falling off.

Being skinned alive. How familiar?

Maybe this is worse in a way... Magog is so impersonal with these experiments. "Can you feel anything?" "Does this hurt?" "What if we apply this? Do you feel this?." He isn't talking to a human being in his mind... Just a labrat. Maybe not even that. Morningstar was so... Personal. Maybe that made it easier...

Even if it didn't. The pain could drown his voice out. He probably knew that and just kept on for his own amusement. Magog and this woman... The woman answered every time. There was no drowning out that voice. A voice no doctor should use... So dispassionate. But she answered, and she was terrified. She was in mental anguish even if she was not physically hurting.

Of course I just watched. It was different but... I just kept seeing Morningstar and that Man. But I wasn't restrained this time. I could have stopped it? At least for a bit. But I am not going to. If I did, I would have been sitting there next just watching my body die. I would have been turned into one of those shambling monsters in the basement. Skin so rotten and diseased it sloughs off if they move too abruptly.

I was curious. I wanted to see one... They showed it to me. I don't know if it was male or female, but no body should be...

It... Shouldn't have been alive. But it was. We had to wear hazard suits just to be near it. The "Keepers of the Castle" one Oathbreaker called it. That wheezing and coughing...

The longer I survive this... This Hell. This is Hell. The longer I survive this, the more fucking inhuman shit I see. Maybe I should get out and just LET Dumah take me. Maybe I should just take this goddamn gun and END IT. I don't fucking want to see anymore of this MONSTEROUS fucking SHIT.

Monday, April 15, 2013

Trust Issue

Funny thing about my walk. It was utterly uneventful and rather peaceful. No sign of the Pale Men or Dumah, despite my vulnerability. Exactly what we did not want to happen. I personally blame myself for trying such an obvious ploy. "Going to take a walk. In the dark. With a minimum of security." 

Yet, Magog seemed unsurprised. This bothers me. I knew of course that he was unlikely to be telling me everything that he knew about the Pale Men... But he seems to be implying he knows their actual goal. Surprising in that I did not think they had one beyond killing us.

I would take this time to regurgitate all the information I have on Magog in order to analyze it... But in doing so, I would be... Betraying him in a sense. The less his enemies know the better, I suppose. While I don't quite consider him a friend, he is the enemy of my enemy. That is reason enough to keep his secrets safe. 

For now anyway. 

So instead I will talk about the Asylum itself... Maybe a bit more about the Oathbreakers. The Asylum was evidently founded by an Oathbreaker named Dr. Mikhail Adler, as an easy way to acquire test subjects and carriers for disease. Magog's coven forced out Adler's coven and took over about fifteen years ago. 

Magog's Coven, as I previously had said, has some unorthodox views and methods compared to the other covens. Of course, given their tendency to cure disease as much as spread it, they are seen as more pacifistic compared to other covens. Which explains why Magog dresses like the Dark Lord Sauron was eaten by SCP-049. He cannot allow his coven to look like easy prey... Which, given the amount of weapons I have seen stored here, is certainly not the case.

Before anyone asks, No. No I cannot get into their weapon rooms. They made it clear I would be shot on sight if I tried. 

What else... The Patients come in three varieties. The cosmetic type, which exists mainly to ensure the Asylum looks normal and well functioning. The testing type, who are the unlucky souls subjected to the various diseases and potential cures. All for the good cause of science though... The third variety are referred to as "The Afflicted" by most of the Oathbreakers.

I have not seen much of them... And I do mean that literally. While I haven't seen any living Afflicted, I have seen what they leave behind. Rotting gelatinous globs of flesh sticking to the ground. Blood and pus everywhere around them... Magog's aide referred to them as "Post Testing Patients" and mentioned their sensitivity to light, and that they are extremely infectious unless proper precautions are in place. Hence why they were scrubbing the cell with all the flesh, blood and pus. 

So there are clearly some horrors here... But with any luck I shall continue to avoid them. For now, we wait until Magog's Plan B comes to pass. I do not cherish the thought of becoming bait again, but if I must so be it.

Sunday, April 14, 2013


So. Thomas Mercer is not an Apostle, but an Oathbreaker. Why then did The Archangel interfere with the Pale Men, thereby ensuring my arrival at the Asylum? What does the Archangel have to gain from this?

I have no theories as to why, aside from "idle whim" which is not a wise thing to assume when dealing with these Creatures. Why would it bother acquiring Silas... May he rest in peace... Face and appearance other than to disorient and confuse me? 

... Bring this up mainly out of boredom. The Oathbreakers are not quite ready to capture a Pale Man, and we cannot be certain they will even show up. I hope so. I want them to suffer for what they've done.

I wonder if Roland is still alive. Magog pointed out something interesting to me about him... That Car Morningstar left us was actually stolen. Ergo, we had been riding around in a stolen vehicle with it's intact license plate. We are lucky we didn't get arrested.

Hmm. Might be best if he did get arrested. A Jail cell might keep him safer from the Pale Men and Dumah... Or it could trap him. Either way, I don't particularly care.

... Not much else to discuss really. Think I am going to go take a walk... With at least a minimum Oathbreaker escort of course.

Thursday, April 11, 2013


I feel the need to now explain why Roland is no longer with me. You see, our time spent just before the meeting was... Heated. Roland had looked into my notes and was convinced "Dr. Thomas Mercer" was an Apostle. A servant of the Archangel, which I theorize to consist of only 12 individuals. Possibly 13. Thomas was an Apostle, so it would admittedly be logical to suspect Thomas Mercer of being the Archangel equivalent of the Apostle of the same name. Of course, it didn't matter. Even if he was, what of it? We were backed into a corner. It would kill us, or the Pale Men would.

It was a moment of regrettably dark trains of thought.

When we arrived at the meeting point with Dr. Mercer, we encountered a small team of Oathbreakers in full... Costume. The obvious leader, Magog, was an intimidating sight with his Robe having jagged shards of metal sticking out of it. Of course by the time we saw them, they saw us. If they wanted to stop us from running they could. So I stepped out of the vehicle ready to accept whatever fate had in store for me. It would have been pointless to run.

So naturally the moment I stepped out of the car, Roland took the wheel and drove off with everything we owned. Leaving me to potentially die.

I am a bit angry at that decision.

But it turns out Magog was extremely welcoming and helpful. All of the Oathbreakers I have met are. Intelligent and generally very charming individuals with keen insight into the all matters concerning the mind, living things, medicine and of course... The Creatures.

I confess I fear I might be looking at them so positively as a result of my last experience with cultists. The Oathbreakers are certainly an upgrade from the Proxies. But they made it clear that I could be very beneficial to their cause. That cause being to destroy Dumah and other creatures like it.

I approve of this cause. Their methods are bit... Harsh of course. There are many patients in this asylum, most of whom I doubt actually belong here. Perhaps they are relatives of the Oathbreakers. I cannot think of any other way they could get away with this.

The patients conditions are monitored constantly. They are kept alive. In constant pain no doubt, and sick... But alive. And their suffering is for a good cause. In the end they will have saved many lives if this plan works. They seem used to it actually. That is good. It makes it easier perhaps...

You may be wondering if I followed Morningstar's advice from the last post's comments. I have not. I have spoken with Magog extensively on his goals, what will happen to me once I have served my purpose.... Etc. I am satisfied with the answers, for now. But I will of course be keeping very wary of my new allies.

We hope to have captured a Pale Man by next week. If we are successful, then we may just be able to craft a Monster killing Virus. It will be over at long last... I truly hope I am still alive to see it. I hope I am there to see It die.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013


First off, I would like to apologize for my absence and lack of posting. This has been a wonderful week. Wonderful. For the first time in... God it's been Months hasn't it... I have some small hope of survival. At least for a little bit longer. The same cannot be said for that idiot Roland who has been locked out of this blogger account so that I don't have to hear his idiocy. Perhaps I am a bit bitter from a recent event that I will discuss some other time.

The important thing is this. I am currently in a compound filled with individuals known as Oathbreakers. For the enlightened, you will already know that Oathbreakers are neither servants of Dumah or the Archangel creature. To my surprise. I'll get back to that soon. Dr. Thomas Mercer, or Magog as he seems to prefer in the company of his fellow Oathbreakers, is a brilliant man with a grand amount of resources at his disposal. Not nearly as eccentric or insane as one would assume given that he worships one of those... Creatures.

Oathbreakers are servants of a living embodiment of pestilence, disease and rotting death. They prefer "God of Change and Evolution." It evidently takes a form similar to that of a Plague Doctor. As a guest of the Oathbreakers, I am presumably under It's protection... And if not, I appear to be beneath It's notice. Neither Dumah or the Archangel have made any appearances. Magog tells me this is because I am in "The Good Doctor's" Territory. One of the other creatures coming here would be seen as an act of aggression. Some bias may be in play, but Magog tells me that The Good Doctor's power is on par with that of Dumah itself, thus ensuring my relative safety.

Though for a cultist not worshiping Dumah to claim it to be as powerful as his own God, does not fill me with confidence in my ability to permanently escape It.

Before anyone says anything, I know the risks of being in the company of cultists such as these... But Magog tells me that this particular coven has some unorthodox views in regards to their duty as Oathbreakers. He described the other covens as "mindless carriers." This is apparently because, while they spread illness as their God wishes... They do not always ensure the disease's survival and success. It is a... Matter of evolution. The Bacteria spread, the human body adapts, the Bacteria must then adapt and evolve past the human's defenses. Other Oathbreaker Covens do basic testing on live subjects before releasing the sickness. Magog's Coven runs an Asylum as it's cover. They do extensive testing on the patients to ensure the potency of the sicknesses. Then they build up the immune system of the patients and thereby force the sicknesses to adapt to infect them.

This is... Inhuman and torturous, yes... But it ultimately has a benevolent goal and is not mindless sadism like what... Morningstar did.

You see... Some of the patients within the Asylum are creatures known as The Camper. This one was... Difficult for me to understand and believe. Another of these creatures is something they call "The Ichor" and it is made of a strange ink. The ink is clear and... Extremely similar to water in appearance, feel and taste. It is however merely a part of the Collective Consciousness known as The Ichor. Now, ingestion of this ink will cause the human body to become addicted... 100% of the time they tell me, which I find unlikely. Once inside the body, the Ichor will seek to replace all fluids in the body with itself. The addiction will cause the unlucky individual to seek out more Ichor, which speeds the process of replacement along. When all fluids are consumed, The Ichor takes control. The result is an extension of the Ichor known as The Camper.

Unlike Dumah or The Good Doctor however, The Camper can be killed by conventional means. Albeit this is difficult. It also means they be restrained and held captive. Even experimented on. Which leads us to the point of this lengthy explanation.

By testing sickness on The Camper, which is merely an extension of one of these Creatures, the Oathbreakers seek to develop a virus that can kill The Ichor. And if they can kill one of these creatures... It stands to reason they can kill the others.

But it gets better.

The reason Magog contacted me in the first place, was because, to his knowledge, Roland and I are the first and only ones to be hunted by those Pale Men. Those Pale Men who bleed Black. According to Magog... This is likely the same kind of substance that flows through the body Dumah itself. So if we can capture a Pale Man. If we can develop a virus that can kill one...

Maybe we can kill Dumah.

Thursday, March 28, 2013


Took a look back at comments from a previous post. Morningstar and Fracture had an odd conversation in the comments section. Fracture was under the assumption that Morningstar was deceased. I have been following Morning Hunter for sometime. Nothing indicated that he had died in any way. In fact, he has barely been inactive since the beginning of it. Perhaps there was something behind the scenes going on with the proxies?

Yet Morningstar seemed as confused as I am. Then they started linking posts. Fracture linked a post Morningstar could not read, and Morningstar linked a post Fracture could not read. I could read Morningstar's fine. There seemed to be a few close calls though. Namely against a woman named Michelle. Unfortunately the insane bastard tossed her off a building. Aside from that... Nothing to indicate Morningstar had ever really been in any life threatening peril.

While I have no theories as to why this may be... I did discover a theory that may explain it. Dimensional Bleeding they called it. It seemed idiotic when I first read it. Essentially it is a theory to explain the inconsistencies surrounding It and fellow abominations. It theorizes that the sheer power of the beings creates holes in reality itself. Causing other realities to leak in, with their own forms of these beings. Which would explain why It acts so different, and why other large events clearly did not take place.

It would also explain why Morningstar is alive here and not wherever Fracture is. However Morningstar mentioned knowing a Fracture. Presumably this universe's Fracture. Who has perhaps not found this blog yet. So how did AU Fracture find it? My blog must have bled into this AU and attracted the attention of the inhabitants. So maybe, this would explain the strangeness.

Or maybe this is the single most idiotic theory I have ever heard, and Morningstar and Fracture are just playing games....

Maybe I just wanted something to write about before we go off to meet Dr. Thomas Mercer and see if he can actually help us. Of course it is probably a trap. Really though, we don't have another choice.

This may be our last post... Though I suppose all of our posts could have been the last. But those other times, we were not willingly walking into a probable trap... So. To all readers who are not scumbag proxies... Good Luck. Kill that thing. There is a way. One of us is bound to find it. Kill it. Don't let there be any more deaths.

Monday, March 25, 2013


With all the excitement and loud death recently, you forget just how terrifying something so utterly quiet and still is. Just... Standing there... It is... Fascinating as it is terrifying to behold. Something just so calming about It. It looks so ethereal... Angelic even. Just that still, quiet... Nothing but the sound of my pounding heart filling my ears. There is... Beauty there, I think. Yes...

A loud crack and the flash of a shard of metal flying past me into the wall was what it took to shake me from that... Trance. I look and see the smiling face of my dead uncle standing in a long heavy black coat, brandishing a sniper rifle. Dream to Nightmare, as the still figure of a man became more like a spider. Many writhing oily arms coming out of it, reaching for me even as I fled out the door. Even as the people on the street watch and do nothing, as they are want to do. Someone else's problem isn't it. 

I remember how it felt to be touched by those tendrils. I remember how sick I felt. But then, I felt sick just looking at It back then. I wonder how it would feel now... No doubt my curiosity will be sated before this is all over with.

Nothing more to say. We are close to our destination now, and I hope... Our salvation. We will spend tomorrow planning in case my hopes prove false. 

My dreams may... For once be free from the blood and screams that have Plagued me. 

Friday, March 22, 2013


You know, Imma big guy. I know I'm strong. But that don't mean I have to do all the legwork and heavy lifting. Echo's got two legs too, so why do I gotta be the one to keep hoofing it to the store to pick up groceries. That damned car can't even hold a lot. So we gotta keep on sending me out to be a damn pack mule. And I expect to be sent out again soon enough to get a few more groceries, while Echo sits on his ass.

Oh. He says he is doing important stuff. Research into old legends and stuff, trying to discover something that none of the other dozens of people stalked by this thing found. Sounds pretty pointless to me. He needs to be looking at where were going, I think. He ain't found nothing about no Dr. Thomas Mercer in the town he mentioned. Certainly not one who ran an Asylum. Did he mention that? This Doc Mercer ain't a medical doctor. He's a psychologist or... Psychiatrist or whatever. Don't really the difference myself.

Echo even told me he thinks that Doc Mercer might be a servant of that Archangel thing what saved us from the Pale freaks. Think I remember reading a comment from Incognito that mentioned the Archangel, after those thugs stole our computers. Don't know what it is yet, but it can't be that bad if it saved us. Or maybe it just didn't want us to die there. Who's ta say.

Think I might be catching a cold too. Been coughing and sneezing a lot. Throat's getting raw from it all. Course Dr. Echo's more concerned with his stupid research. He ain't gonna find the miracle weapon against The Tall Fella. He just ain't. I don't think it exists...

I know this was short, but I need to get some rest. Might help me lose this bug faster.

Thursday, March 21, 2013


Figured it was bout time I posted on here again. Lot to talk about... But maybe I shouldn't. That family's dead. That little girl's dead... An if she ain't, she'll wanna be. No use n giving it any more thought than necessary.

Getting kind of fed up with Echo recently... Really more his attitude towards me. I mean can you believe that last post?  "I need to decide our course of action" or however he said it. Not "We need to decide" er "I will ask Roland for his opinion" am I just along for the ride? I think I should getta say in where we go to next. To be honest, I don't think that going ta that Doc Mercer's place is a good idea. Even know-it-all Echo thinks itsa trap. So ain't it purty dumb to go walking into a trap?

What I think we should do, is go find some other group a runners. Safety in numbers. Even if the Tall Fella can't be killed, it at least means he has a lot of options to choose from to kill, instead a just me and Echo. Cause we ain't getting out of this alive. Yeah. I said it. We ain't getting out of this alive. It's just the truth. Plain and simple.

Not really all that much else to say. No sign of the Pale freaks or the Tall Fella. Least none for me. Hope it stays that way.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013


Supplies, mental health, Roland, the safety of our destination, Dr. Mercer's true affiliation, It, Pale Men, and possible Archangel stalking. Things have become complicated all of a sudden.

Issue #1: Our Van was packed full of useful supplies... Morningstar seems to have made off with most of it, leaving us with a bare minimum. A weeks supply of MREs, our wallets and a laptop. Money, while not yet an issue, will not last forever. May have to resort to thievery to get basic needs. Dad taught me how best to steal from civilians, yet it is still a highly risky endeavor. 

Issue #2: My mind feels so constantly numb. Listen to the radio. Have a guilty pleasure in the form of the John Boy & Billy show. Can't even smile from it anymore. It is still funny but... I don't find it amusing? Music is no longer drawing emotions either. Just... Noise now. Also find it... Unpleasant to sleep. Unpleasant to be awake and not keeping my brain occupied. Fear I may be suffering from PTSD. Need an actual psychologist to be sure. Still.

Issue #3: Roland has barely said a word since we escaped. Hasn't even been able to answer my question about what happened in the forest when we were... Separated. Would be useful to know. Given his irritating silence, I am unable to accurately guess whether he has PTSD or not. I find it likely though, even if I do not have it. He never struck me as one mentally able to withstand something so...

Issues #4, #5 & #8: Dr. Mercer has been sending E-Mail throughout the duration of our capture. Several things worry me here. We were saved by something wearing Silas' face. This fits the modus operandi of The Archangel entity. Furthermore, we had a "coincidental" robbery a few weeks ago by Timberwolves, the cultists that worship The Archangel. Dr. Mercer claiming to possibly be able to help us if we go to him... The Archangel clearly trying to ensure we get to him. I am now nearly positive this is a trap...

That said. If it is a trap, the Archangel revealing Itself like that would be an extremely sloppy move. If It wanted us dead it could have killed us. So It wants us to go to Mercer. But if we suspect It is involved with Mercer, we will be less likely to go to him. Mercer himself continues to promise me he does not serve Dumah or The Archangel. But he can give no evidence without us being there to see it. I am thus debating whether to continue on. 

Issue #6 & 7: It's actions with Morningstar prove something. It wants us, or at least Roland, dead by the knives of those Pale Monsters. Why? I have no concrete theory. It is highly illogical in any case. My... Brief visit to that Hell of black leaves, may imply that I have another use for It. Or perhaps my visit was simply one of It's sadistic whims. Either way, It seems to have become less aggressive lately, while It's servants serve, appropriately enough, as Proxies for It's aggression towards us. This is both a blessing and a curse. We can fight off, or more easily escape from servants. However they are incredibly unpredictable. We may run into an entirely different Proxy soon enough, with an entirely different operating method from Morningstar. 

... This of course means I need to decide our course of action quickly. 

God only knows what It will throw at us next.