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. 

Tuesday, March 19, 2013


Uneventful day. Wish something would happen. Distract from thoughts... Distract from body count.

Believe I was describing the next atrocity Morningstar inflicted on that family. The Mother was next on the chopping block. On the table, she was staring at her daughter and trying to speak through her gag. Morningstar leaned down and put his head beside hers, staring at the daughter as well. His smile was smaller than usual. Can't help but wonder why.

"Yes. Take a good long look Mrs. Revis. Soak it all in. Burn that image into your mind. It will be the last time you ever see your daughter."

He looked at me and smiled wider once again.

"Dr. Marsh, let me show you a surgery I learned from one of my best teachers."

He... Held her eyes open and inserted a small, dull piece of metal between the eye and the socket.

"Look at your daughter. Look at her. Look hard. Look her straight in the eyes. It will be the last time... Heheh."

He slowly... Pulled the eyeball out, still attached... He cut the retna. Then did the same to the other eye.... He moved her head to face her daughter. I couldn't look at her.

"Cruel world we live in, eh kiddo? Look. Look what they did to Mommy. Look Look Look. Why... She almost looks like..."

He took out a sewing needle and some sort of thread. When it was over he had sewn the woman's lips shut. Don't ask me for more details. Ungagged her screaming was.... How many time she told her daughter she loves her. I suppose at least... At least she got to before the end. The father didn't even get a chance. I am sick and tired of writing this... I don't want to remember this... Recount this. That sick son of a bitch.

"Hey kiddo. Take a nice long look at this face. This is what killed your big brother. I wonder, did you hear the screams when he was taken?"

At this point I noticed Morningstar's face gradually losing it's manic expression. He looked... Bored would be one way to describe it. He kept that expression for a time before seeming to get dizzy. He was holding his head with one hand while he pulled out a knife and began stabbing the woman around a dozen times in various places. He barely seemed to notice what he was doing.

When he... Finished... He slowly walked away and waved over a proxy. By the look of him, an Elvis Impersonator or something equally ridiculous like that. He had a syringe with him filled with a clear fluid, which he injected into Morningstar's arm.

He proceeded to sit down for a few minutes, looking increasingly glum. Once he finally got up and walked back to the table, he looked at the corpse of the woman.

"Oh Goddammit. Must have got carried away."

He pushed the body into the floor and walked over to the little girl, grabbing her chair and pulling her away out of sight. When he came back, he had an empty chair with him. He sat down in the chair backwards, arms draped over the back. Staring at me.


I simply stared at him. He stared back before making an expression that I read to mean "Go ahead." I said nothing.

"You asleep or something? Helloooooo."

He began knocking on my head. I replied with an impotent snarl. I would have liked to reply by tearing his arms off.

"YOU ARE AWAKE! Good, good. We have things to talk about Doctor Marsh. Post-Surgery... Thing... Debriefing? What is it they call it.... I do not know. ANYWAY, so what did you think of my surgery skills? Do not be nice, just give me the truth. I can take any criticisms."

I told him what I thought of him. He kicked my chair over and began ranting incoherently at me about... God knows. I was sick of his voice and not paying much attention. When he stopped, he set my chair upright again.

"So. Next topic. I had mine, you can have yours. Shoot. I am an open book. Gotta be a good host to my esteemed guests."

I asked him why he does not just kill us and get it over with. I figured he was going to torture us to death too... So his response was surprising.

"Believe me I would LOVE to... But you see... I cannot. OK, my turn. A related topic... Why? Why am I not allowed to kill you? Can you tell me? I would really appreciate knowing. It has just been BOGGLING MY MIND all day. I think about disemboweling you, I get this really SICK feeling in my stomach. I think about sawing off your useless limbs, I go numb in my own. I think about just SHOOTING you in your empty fucking head, and I get a MIGRAINE. So tell me. And be honest. What makes you two so goddamn SPECIAL that I cannot END YOUR MISERABLE GODDAMN LIVES LIKE YOU DESERVE?!?"

I did not have an answer. It was a shock to me as well. It does not want to kill me? Or maybe It does not want a proxy to kill me. But why? Am I part of some bigger plot? Do I have some use for that abomination? Suicide has never looked more tempting, just to spite that wretched thing... But back to the day's events... I could not answer Morningstar. He noticed.

"Great. Even you do not know. Peachy. Means I have to babysit you for a while longer."

With that, he walked off...

He didn't speak to me again for two days. We were untied occasionally to eat and drink... Under constant watch and with a gun trained on us by multiple proxies. But for the most part we were simply left alone for the next two days. Roland did not say a word, except crying from time to time. I think I did too. I still am. Maybe not for me, but for that little girl...

I still don't know what happened to her. I never saw her again after Morningstar took her away... It is... Remarkable in many ways. You hear on the news about acts of unspeakable violence against people, you find yourself thinking "That's really bad." But your mind just... Does not comprehend exactly what unspeakable violence is. You imagine the scenes in your head, but your wildest imagination does not do the reality justice. The horror of it is... Beyond words. That people like Morningstar can exist in this world, that they can perform these atrocities without a shred of remorse... Without even remembering the faces of all the victims. The people. The living breathing human beings he killed... I always thought that humans, while flawed, and selfish and prone to extreme error were fundamentally good. But Morningstar... This... What he did... I don't know if I can still believe that.

We were knocked unconscious two days later. Then we woke up in that shack.

Now I just want to forget this. I want to sleep it off, I want to... Maybe see if drinking it off helps... But I doubt it. My dreams will be filled with that family's screams. The look the little girl was wearing on her face as Morningstar dragged her away... It's shadow engulfing us all... That's all Morningstar is. A shadow of It. A puppet of It. A tool. Whatever It has in store for us... I will do everything in my power to ensure it fails. But I need to find out what it is first. I cannot die before that happens. I cannot.

Monday, March 18, 2013


The one thing I need to salvage from those memories are Silas' face. Roland got a better look. He... It was wearing a long black rain coat. According to Roland, It was wearing a gas mask when it first showed up. It was carrying a rifle of some kind. Sniper Rifle maybe. Looking through an assortment of accounts, I can only assume that this is some entity in the same vein as Dumah. They call it The Archangel. Beyond that, accounts are very inconsistent and strange. Common points include it taking a vaguely humanoid form in a gasmask and coat with a rifle. Sometimes wearing the face of a deceased loved one. Silas in this case...

I asked myself "Why has it come for us?" and I can only assume we attracted It's attention when those Timberwolves were killed. Those thugs who stole our laptops. They are evidently worshipers of The Archangel. This begs the question though. Why did it stop the Pale Men from killing us. Once again they had us. Why interfere?

This combined with... Things Dumah did to me while we were in Morningstar's custody, makes me believe that there is a larger game being played here with us. To elaborate on those memories...

As that psychopath said, we were driving along the highway at a reasonable speed. I noticed a young man standing on the side of the road. He tipped his hat at us as we went by. That brief moment spent looking at him was enough for It to manifest in the middle of the road. When I saw it, I swerved and... I don't remember much else. When I awoke, I was tied up in a chair. Rudimentary first aid done to my injuries. I vaguely recall calling Roland's name and heard a grunt behind me. That is when I noticed a... Clown standing in the room watching us. When he noticed me stirring, he yelled

"Star, our guests are waking up."

He was answered by a... Sound. A squee of sorts. It sounded very happy. That is when we saw Morningstar. To describe his appearance... all washed out colors. Very pale skin, light blue eyes, long wispy blonde hair. Dresses remarkably unlike a maniac. Black fedora, long suit coat over a dress shirt. Black tie. Black dress pants. Maybe trying to emulate his "Father" in some regard. He wears his clothes far more casually than It appears to. A contrast.

His effeminate features combined with his constant smiling render almost pleasant to look at. Until the smirk becomes a manic grin and he begins waving around a knife indiscriminately. Our first conversation was unpleasant. I asked him who he was and where we were. Dazed and confused as I was, it was obvious WHAT he was. A Proxy. At long, long last I came face to face with a proxy. An eccentric type. Flashy theatrical serial murderers. The most visible faces among It's slaves.

He faked sympathy for us. "Oh You POOR little dears. You must be so confused right now." He looked and spoke to his Clown comrade.

"The poor things have been in an awful accident you know. It it our job to nurse them back to health."

I asked him again who he was and where we are.

"Echo, right? Sorry I have not really had the pleasure of speaking to you on that little blog of yours. I am Morningstar. Doctor Morningstar."

He looked to be about 20, thus I was skeptical of his claim at being a Doctor. That seemed to annoy him.

"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW that I stole my degree fair and square. Same as anyone else."

He started pacing around us. "My, my, my this is NOT the best start to our friendship gentlemen. TUBBY, you awake?"

Roland kept silent. Probably the smartest move in this situation. I think Morningstar was looking for something to latch on to and pick at.

"Awww. Is that not simply adorable? Roland, right? Hey Tubby? Right? Come on. Look at me." I heard him gently slapping Roland's cheek.

"Atta boy Rolly. Can I call you Rolly? Much more fitting for a man of your... Hmmm... Stature. Heh. Better keep you away from any steep slopes."

 Already he was getting on my nerves.  I loudly asked where we were. In response, he jerked around and stuck his face right in mine, looking me in the eyes.

"Home. Buuuuddy. Doctor Morningstar's Clinic as it were. Today we have some rather... Difficult surgery scheduled. I was hoping that a fellow man of Science could assist me in my delicate operation. Could you do that Dr. Marsh?"

I didn't like where this was going.

He walked over to a large table and began placing all kinds of... Blades, hammers, chisels and strange implements across it.


I think he believed a faux-german accent made the statement comical. It did not. A large scarecrow themed man, followed my a large Asian man and a large masked woman came out, dragging several chairs with them. A man, a woman and two children were in the chairs.


Then he... He asked me which one looks more in need of surgery. I didn't answer. And he told me that if I didn't pick... He would. He gestured towards the young girl. The entire family was crying. Muffled moans behind gagged mouths. The little girl was probably... Eight? The boy was probably a bit older. The parents looked to be about my age.

I picked the father. Who wouldn't? In hindsight maybe I should have just picked the girl. They untied the man and put him on the table. His struggling was... Pointless. Morningstar looked him over.

"Tsk Tsk... Not been taking good care of yourself eh Mr. Revis? Dr. Marsh... What do you think seems to be the problem with dear Mr. Revis?"

I was stunned. I had just chosen a man for death. I wasn't able to answer Morningstar in time.

"What is that Dr. Marsh? Skin Cancer you say? Well we cannot have that. We need cut out the cancer. We have to be thorough.... Take note kids."

I noticed that the remaining members of the family were sat facing the operating table. Even the children. I begged Morningstar not to let them see this.

"For shame Dr. Marsh! For shame. This is an excellent learning experience for the impressionable youth. We have to instill a love of learning in an early age. I promise you... This will be an experience they will never forget. Hehehehe"

He broke out into a small fit of laughter. It couldn't have been more than ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity. The anticipation the... Shock at what I was about to witness. And the family... God what could it have been like for them?


I won't go into the details of what I saw. I am a doctor. I am a man of medicine and healing. I ease pain. That is what I do. Yet I subjected this man to death. While his family watched... Closing my eyes didn't help. I could hear the sounds... Flesh being separated from muscle. The splatter of blood... So much blood... Living blood. The look on his face... That joy. That utter joy in his face. He knew what he was doing. He know what it would cause. The pain. He loved it. And he kept talking through the entire thing. Making up lies about past surgeries... I hope they were lies. Commenting on what he saw beneath the skin. Mentioning how he wishes I could have picked the woman so he could make... Fucking puns about beauty being skin deep. Told me it would give me a better appreciation of the female form. 

It took an hour for him to die, I think.

"Ah... You are looking MUCH better Mr. Revis. No more excess body fat and no more cancer. I for one, call this a successful operation."

He stuck a lollipop in the dead man's mouth. But it would get worse. God it would get worse. He had the body dragged off out of sight, and us with it.

"Now boys, I am going to share with you a little secret of mine. I am very environmentally aware. Beautiful mother nature doesn't need more... Hehehe... Trash, making things all yucky."

He patted the corpse when he said trash. I noticed some of the other proxies were leaving the room.

"Jack old buddy. Help me out here will you?"

A shorter, thin man dressed in strange and colorful clothing came forward. He removed his top hat and monocle. He picked up a cleaver.

"Now, not many are aware of this Dr. Marsh, but I am in fact a world class chef in addition to being a surgeon. Not to come across as arrogant or anything, but I am a man of many talents and... Refined tastes."

After an eternity of watching them remove bones and organs, they began chopping the body into pieces.

"You have to boil the meat. Makes it safer to eat, if a bit tasteless... But hey, that is what spices and seasonings are for."

It took everything I had to keep from vomiting... I couldn't even keep track of what he was saying anymore. He just kept talking and talking and talking and talking... He never EVER shut up. It was just one atrocity after another. One irredeemable act followed by another. And once he was done cooking...

The other proxies moved the family back in. Morningstar told them they had a big day tomorrow. This could be their last meal, so he personally prepared it for them with... "Love and Care." The family's eyes were... broken and dead. They didn't give it any thought. What he might be feeding them. Maybe they hoped it was poison.... But they ate it. They were scared and exhausted and hungry. As Morningstar's assistant held up the meat to their lips, I saw it tear. I saw the saliva dripping out of their maws, mixing with tears still flowing like rivers... And I saw Morningstar's face. He was smiling and almost shaking with restrained laughter.

I finally regained my nerve and told them to stop eating that. Morningstar broke down in laughter, all but rolling on the goddamn floor. He showed them the bones, picked clean of meat. He licked the skull before asking ME if I wanted to join in on the feast. I don't remember what I said... I was angry. I hated him more than I have ever hated anyone.

"Suit yourself" he said. Cheerily. And he started eating the meat himself. He talked about some cultures that believed that by committing cannibalism, one could absorb the attributes and soul of the deceased. He told the children that their Daddy lived on inside his stomach. I couldn't look at them. I know the mother vomited. I know she was crying. They took the family away to another part of the building. Morningstar yawned and said "Well guys, I am pooped. Been a long day for everyone, and I know we have got LOTS of fun stuff planned in the future. So get some sleep and we'll continue in the morning." He skipped off almost singing.

We were left alone... Wherever we were. Hours passed like minutes. Except when I closed my eyes. Even blinking... The darkness made me replay those images in my head. Again and again. I was only vaguely aware of the third presence in the room... Standing there in the center. Just watching us. When I noticed It, I just stared. It stared back. For hours I watched It. For hours It watched me. Over me. In me. I noticed it had come closer, seemingly without moving as the hours passed. I blink and see the images. My eyes open and I see It. At dawn my eyes opened and I saw we were alone.

Morningstar and the other proxies returned.

"GOOD MORNING my sleeping beauties. I hope you had a restful night's sleep. I know you have had a trying day yesterday. Well no more. Dr. Morningstar wants ensure today is a nice, day filled with relaxation. And entertainment. I expect we will have company soon enough, so we need to prepare a welcoming service."

I looked at him for a long time... I simply asked him. Why?

He looked at me and frowned for the first time I had seen.

"Because none of you deserve to live."

His expression went back to that jovial smile. That vicious smirk.

Our hands were tied and we were hung from the rafters from our hands. Morningstar and the proxies were doing something below. Rigging wiretraps to loaded shotguns. Positioning each proxy in a specific location guarding the door. And they waited. They waited for a long time. I couldn't feel my arms by the time I saw a cautious opening of the door. The barrel of a gun entered, followed by a tall, strong looking man armed to the teeth. Morningstar's assistant pulled the chain that bound us, causing a rattling sound. The gunman looked towards the sound and stared at us.... His surprise at seeing us was his undoing. The large female proxy jumped from her hiding place and tackled the gunman to the ground. The other Proxies emerged brandishing weapons and either laughing or taunting the man. Morningstar got close to the gunman and started talking. Softly. I couldn't hear the conversation. It ended with the scarecrow themed proxy lopping the man's head off with a hand scythe.

Morningstar kicked it and started up an impromptu soccer game. When they finished, we were let back down and tied up again.

"Sorry about that. You must be confused. Suffice it to say, I got rid of a MASSIVE pain in my ass there. Thanks for being a distraction. Now... Where were we? Ah yes. Surgery. Let us bring out the lucky contestants."

The Family was brought back out. But the Boy was missing. I felt my heart jump for a second. Maybe he escaped? Maybe he is safe?

"Oh... So it was the boy brat that Father was after. Lucky kid. Oh well... One less patient. Ding ding. Next. The Doctor will see you now... Dr. Marsh, who's it gonna be?"

I picked the little girl. Morningstar grinned. The proxies tied her to the table, still covered in dried blood from the previous day's surgery. He looked her over briefly, knife in hand. He spotted a small cut, probably caused by a failed escape attempt during the night.

"Oh No." He gave her a sad and worried look. "Your poor thing. You got a boo-boo. Here, let me help..."

He applied a band aid and sent her back to her chair.

"Which leaves us with ONE patient. The lovely Mrs. Revis."


I'll finish this tomorrow. Current objective. Find Dr. Mercer.

Sunday, March 17, 2013


Looks like you won your bet Morningstar. You piece of inhuman trash. You murdering psychopathic maniac little shit. I hope you and your little crew get killed by Dumah. I hope you develop kuru from all that meat you eat. I hear it is a bad way to die. Still too good for you.


To those of you who are not psychotic dogs of a hellish abomination... Expect a few updates in a short amount of time. Lots to talk about. Think I will start by talking about Morningstar's "Game." We woke up just as he said. Slumped over in chairs, untied. Staring at my open laptop with his idiotic post. Roland was a bit more confused and disoriented than me. To be expected really. Nevertheless I coaxed him out of it quickly. We had no time to lose despairing over our situation. Had to accept it and move on.

Just as Morningstar said, a Car was outside. I had no idea how to hotwire it, neither did Roland. A sign was sticking out of the ground. "Salvation is underfoot" it said. So we pulled the sign out of the ground and found a piece of paper. "The Cleverest Piggie knows the way. North." The evil bastard is clever, I'll give him that. It was a clear night sky, and the north star was visible. So we went north. Of course, Morningstar's statement regarding a "Black Oily feeling" and his belief that we will "have plenty of company" was dwelling heavily on my mind. It was extremely obvious what he was hinting at, and that might have made it worse. We could barely slow them down when we had home field advantage, an extra person AND weapons.

About a five minute walk away and we found an old structure. Naturally made of bricks with the words "NOT CLEVER ENOUGH" written on the front. The words were fresh. Not yet dry. It probably wasn't paint either.

Inside, slumped over in a chair at a table was a rather portly man. With a cheap plastic pig nose and pig ears on his head. A metal wire jabbed into his lower back and twisted to resemble a tail. This was far from the worst thing we had seen while in Morningstar's company, thus we were not overcome with shock as we might have if we hadn't seen...


A story for another time. We began searching the structure and found nothing. I examined the corpse more closely and found fresh, crude, stitches on the head. Sick fucker. Removing the wire, I used it to undo the crude stitches and remove the man's scalp. The Skull was cracked open and the insides were missing. In place of a brain was another piece of paper. Sick fucker. It said "Salvation within the belly of the beast. No worries, this one involves less surgical work. East."

We wasted no time. We couldn't afford to. The trees had leaves. The moonlight revealed no color. Black. Black Leaves. Black leaves everywhere. Paper white trees. I couldn't... Stupid, stupid, stupid... Found a large tree with trash bags hanging from the branches. My head. My head was pounding. I could hear my heart beating. Drumming faster and faster with every step. It was with us every step of the way. Beside us. Behind us. Maybe inside us. The bags were labelled. "Brains" "Lungs" "Intestines" "Heart" "Liver" "Stomach." We pulled the stomach bag down and opened it. The Paper was almost unreadable from the blood.

"Behind You."

There was a man standing. Wearing a clean business suit with a hairless head. Lips sewn shut, a long metal rod jammed into the ground and through his body, holding it up. His eyes were gouged out. In one of the sockets was another sheet of paper. "F(x)llow Me." Confusing. Took a moment's thought. Morningstar. Morning Star. Venus. Looked up and saw darkness. Infinite darkness. Vast expanses of nothing and empty nothing. More nothing than my mind had thought possible. Neither cold nor hot. Not sad not joyous. No color, not even blackness. Nothing but quiet.

But then I saw the edge of the sky. I saw a single point of light in the sky. I would not let myself stand beneath that... Nothing any longer. "I." I. Roland was gone. Or maybe I was. I know that Roland and I were not with each other at the time. I know Roland found the bags hanging from the tree. I know he heard the clicking and chattering that had haunted us since Silas. I know I was panicked. My mind felt.... Damaged. Like glass smashing against the pavement. I followed the light. I felt Dumah's shadow at my back. I felt It's tendrils at my spine. I ran and the forest gave way for me. But no matter how fast I ran, I felt It. It was omnipresent. It was inescapable.

I saw other things in the forest. A writhing mass of black worms that walked as men. Gnawing on the bones and intestines of their hosts. Ever searching for new ones. Violet lights dancing among them as they stalked something.... Roland maybe.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw it. Imagine swimming in a liquid ocean only for it to flash freeze in an instant. Water turns to ice, as does blood. My heart stopped for a brief instant as I saw a massive tree, oozing and pulsating crimson sap. A graveyard of corpses, many of which seemed inhuman, hung from it's gnarled branches, amid an endless sea of black leaves. The light in the sky faded into darkness and I fell to my knees.

A loud gunshot, followed by another. I looked up and saw darkness and night. A star filled sky, and in my hand a shard of paper. "Back to the Beginning." Behind me was the shack and car. My mind knew where the key was. The cruel joke that monster had played on us. It was beneath the doormat to the shack.

Roland came running, with Pale shadows in pursuit. Their knives stained red with blood. I entered the car and jammed the key in the ignition, but the shadows were quick and I could almost feel the sting of their knives at our heels. But I saw a flash in the dark and the explosion of a gunshot. The black blood of the Pale Men drenching the car as the bullet ripped through flesh and cloak. Not enough to kill them, but enough to slow them down. As we drove off as quickly as I could, I tried to catch a glimpse of the gunman. He stood and gave a salute. I knew his face. I knew Silas' Face.


Will post again tomorrow... Want to forget that night ever happened. Have to block it out. But can't let it be lost. Had to post it here. But can't think of it again. Don't think my mind could stand it. No.

Saturday, March 16, 2013


HEY KIDS! It is your old pal Dr. Morningstar here with an amusing little game to play. I've even posted it up on your blog, so all those nice little followers you have can see the rules and maybe make a bet or two about whether you survive. Hehehehe. Hope you are fast readers, as the game begins when you wake up and see the shining screen smiling at you from across the room. The empty room. In the empty shack. In the middle of the cold, dark woods. 

See where I am going with this kiddies? 

Now as you might have suspected, I have been keeping you alive and in... Relatively good shape, for a purpose. What is that purpose? I have absolutely no idea. I just know, or knew, I was not allowed to harm a single hair on your heads. That's what makes the game fun. Even I don't know all the rules... Or players. But I know the playground well. Set up some fun little play pens. 

Nearby is a small car. The car is filled with your possessions. Wallets. Money. A bit of food and water. But no key. And as you recall, you told me you had no idea how to hotwire a car. You seem to be the trustworthy sorts, so I will assume you did not lie. If that is the case, you need to find the keys. Which are, of course, hidden. Nope. Not in the shack. Would not be that easy. They are out in the woods somewhere. You need to find them. Hehehehe. I hid them well. 

But I am not altogether without mercy. There are clues scattered about. Signs. Arrows. Drawings. Corpses. All to make your lives easier. But Dr. Morningstar, you ask. Where is the DANGER? Where is the EXCITEMENT? A lowly treasure hunt is so... So boring. Is it not? 

Well I was going to have some jolly masked fellows hang around to play tag and hide and go seek with you... But the old warning bells went off. Could not do that, you see. But never fear my dear, sweet friends... I got this feeling even now. This... Oily black feeling. HAHAHA. Feels like a THOUSAND scuttling insects writhing and biting and crawling through my SKIN. Devouring DEVOURING EVERYTHING INSIDE! HAHAHA GOD IT HURTS! THE PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN I LOVE IT! 

I do not know what it means though. Never felt anything like it. But I suspect you have a hunch. I think you will have plenty of company out there in the moonlit dark. Hehehe.

I have money on you surviving, so do not fuck it up. I hate losing bets. 

Toodle-loo boys. Been a pleasure knowing you. Hope to see you again sometime. 

We never got to have dinner. 

-Dr. Morningstar

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Original Title: Daily Happening

"Pretty happy we finally got a goal in mind. Echo's pretty doubtful it'll end well, but... Well what else do we have to do? Sit here'n wait for the end ta come? Besides, maybe this Doc Mercer really can help. Maybe he is on the level. Course Echo thinks I am just being "stupidly optimistic." We ain't even completely sure Doc Mercer ain't a Proxy. Or even a doctor. Or even named Mercer. Or is even gonna be where he says he is.

But I always wanted to go to the deep south. Mountain man myself, as I think I said once er twice before. Appalachian mountains are my home. Was weird to leave em behind as we went north... Was too mentally wrecked to be happy to see em when we come back down. Now we're leavin em again.... Hope I get to see em one more time fore the end. Man's home is the best place for him to die, in comfort and surrounded by kin.

... That probably ain't gonna be where the reaper finally takes me, is it.

In the mean time, I been workin on trying to clean the laptops off. Still all sorts of stupid ramblings of "Embrace the Archangel" and such carved into the case. What in the hell does an Archangel have to do with this? Echo mentioned something it being another thing like the Tall Fella. Course apparently he found it out from one a you guys. Must a confirmed it somehow er another.

Been stuck eating military rations Echo got a hold of somehow. Things are terrible. Echo calls them MREs, which I assume means Materials Resembling Edibles, if you'll pardon me for getting a bit fancy with my vernacular there. The chicken fajita one was probably the worst thing I ever eaten. The one I had also came with this crappy hard candy. "Assorted Charms" I think it was called. I don't care what Echo says, we are going to eat at a REAL restaurant tomorrow. Cracker Barrel or something good like that. No more of this MRE bullshit.

Aside from a bit of horror caused by the military food's lack of an exit strategy, we ain't really seen too much of the Tall Fella or the pale guys. Been about nine days in fact."

Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear, am I right? HA. It's too funny. So I'm walking along on the highway, waiting for nothing in particular. When suddenly. I get this TINGLING feeling in my head. Like my spider sense or something. So I turn and see this van cruising along and... Looked to be going about the Speed limit. Speed limit's still pretty fast though, am I right? 70 or something? I never pay attention myself. So I am watching the van, and I know what is inside it. It is ALWAYS the same. One or two scared, vulnerable little... Well maybe not little... people just trying to survive. Running to some.... Pointless goal. POINTLESS. Hehehehe.

So I'm watching it, and I see Father on the road ahead of them. Then the van swerves and BOOM. SLAMS right through the guard rail and off a small hill. So, being a concerned citizen, I go to check and see if they are still alive. And FORTUNATELY THEY ARE. Aren't you all happy?

Hahahahaha. "All." Took a look at this blog and saw like.... Two Runners commenting on it. Some idiot a few countries away and a hobo.

So, seeing that they are still breathing, I get out my knife to correct that. Another day at work. PR won't even have to work hard to convince people that the thinner guy (Echo? Maybe?) was drunk or something. And that they died on impact. Which is... I admit kind of sad. People will not get to see the pretty pictures I carve into them. Would of done much worse If I had a bit more time to prepare... I am thinking maybe a big elaborate death trap course. Or hungry rats. YEAH YEAH. Cut their tendons and unleash a horde of ANGRY RATS ON THEM. Watch them crawl away in vain and then... Well on second thought, that wouldn't leave much for me. I am a big fan of southern food you know. Grew up here. Cultural thing. Heh.

Tubby (Roland?) is right though. Those MREs are TERRIBLE. I mean GOD. How can anyone EAT THAT?!?! I did not DARE eat the Chicken Fajita one. Tubby's account scared me off.

... But as to their current status, they are recovering from their injuries caused by crash. As such their... Hands are tied at the moment, so I am posting for them. But they are more than happy to be HANGING around. They look so relaxed just letting GRAVITY control their bodies. Ah... Need to invest in... Like... A Shark Tank. Maybe Pirhanas. Or Man eating Octopi. Octopie? Octopii? YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

See, I got that tingling feeling again. Told me I need to... Keep them tied up for a while. At least until Father comes to claim them. As a dutiful son, I am more than happy to oblige... Besides I have other business in town right now. This nice couple and their Eight year old child. I Love kids you know. So handy. Actually writing a book. It's called "1000 Uses for Children's Body Parts" as I have found heads make excellent baseballs, soccer balls... Bowling balls. Made extra fun by the natural flammability of heads.

And they say I am not scientific.

Welp, that is all for me for now kiddies. Ta-Ta.


Friday, March 8, 2013


Apologies for not updating in a few days. Lot to think about. Keep telling myself that those deaths were unavoidable. Not my fault. Hope to convince myself eventually.

You may have noticed an anonymous commenter on the last update calling himself "Dr. T. Mercer." Briefly made E-Mail available and had some discussions with him about the current situation. Thought he might be a proxy at first. Still might be. Doesn't really matter. Dead anyway regardless of whether he speeds it along. If he is a proxy. 

Made us an offer. Shelter and potential protection from It and It's servants. Found this unlikely. Told me it is. But the odds are better this way. Claims he has a large support team of scientifically minded individuals searching for methods of harming or killing It. Asked him why this offer was made to us and not anyone else hunted by It. Told me it was due to the... Things that killed Silas. Lends credibility to theory that we are unique in this regard. New phenomena. Mercer wants to test those things. Come up with a weakness before they cause more damage. 

Asked him if he had any success with experiments on damaging It. He told me that any successes they had attained so far have proven inconsistent. Seems only to work some of the time. When It feels like letting it work, perhaps. Or perhaps when some higher power than even It allows it. As disconcerting as that thought may be. 

Decided to take Mercer up on his offer. Unfortunately, Mercer's location is nearly on the opposite side of the country. Deep South. Won't openly say the location's name. Can tell you I searched for a "Dr. Thomas Mercer" and could not find any trace of the man. This is hardly surprising. Even if he is not a proxy, individuals associated with this insanity have a tendency to become hard to track. 

Wish I could say that was the only event of note within the past few days. Feelings of guilt and a desire to sleep in an actual bed forced me to rent a motel room for us. Roland had gone to get food, while I talked with Mercer. He returned physically unharmed, but was... Panicked and confused. Claims he ran into one of those pale strangers. Asked how he escaped. His response was troubling. The pale creature didn't attack. Allegedly it was merely strolling down the sidewalk. Walked right past Roland. Asked him if he was sure it was one of them. He said it was. Long dark coat, fully buttoned. Possibly cloth. Dark colored gloves, not made of cloth. Wide brimmed hat. Black. Large light blue eyes. Pale skin, as if sick. 

Would describe their skin as corpse like myself.

Asked him if it had holes from bullets, or tearing. Told me he was too busy being freaked out. Can't blame him. Asked him if anyone else was around. No. Told me he just froze in place as the pale man walked right by him. No clicking noise. No sign of even acknowledging Roland's existence beyond walking around him. Troubling. Extremely troubling. Inconsistent behavior. Was hoping they would continue to be somewhat predictable. Perhaps they still will be when on the attack. 

No sign of Dumah either. This worries me even more. Long hours waiting. Expecting to see It standing in the shadowed corners of the room. Suit as black as night. Tie red with blood. Arms open. Silent and Screaming. But at least when It is there, I know where It is. Not knowing is far worse. Near daily reminders of It's presence grow routine, if startling. Am still alive after all. Know It hasn't gone away...

Ironic. I am more comforted by being in It's presence than not these days.

Sunday, March 3, 2013


Even in the dark of the night, black coats and hats stick out like an ink stain on paper against the purity of the snow. Saw them coming. Expected this. But preparing against them, against It, is like preparing against a hurricane. Only sitting in your basement and praying doesn't help. You try running and they catch you. You try fighting and they kill you.

We shouldn't be alive. But we are. By sheer dumb luck we are alive. By the blood of... Another innocent. We are alive. Maybe it gets easier. It hasn't yet.

Those creeping shadows with their long knives... Pale faces frozen like the snow, blue eyes colder than any ice... Coats stained with the blood of an innocent bystander. His body ripped open by long knives. Their frozen eyes following us as we drove away.

He was a police officer. I don't know why he was here of all places. I know he saw four men with drawn knives stalking towards a van with a visibly panicked driver. I know he got out of his car and ordered them to stop. I know they turned to him. I know he drew his gun when they approached with knives shining in the dim light. I know he fired, but they didn't stop. I don't know how long it took him to bleed to death on the ground, choking on his own blood.

I know we did nothing to try and save him. Out of Fear.

Since then, I have been asking myself... Do I deserve life after what I did? After what I failed to do? I brought death to Silas' home. I did not go back to save him, I didn't even make an effort to. And now I brought death upon a stranger. Some heroic stranger trying to save my life. Someone who just stumbled upon all this madness. And I ran. I left him to the fate meant for me.

Should I die as penance? Or should I live on for both of them, so that their sacrifices won't be in vain? I just don't know. Perhaps the first would be easier. Quick and painless. The second is most likely a slow death. Agonizing pain and fear as I cling to life while that... Evil tries to drag me down.

Of course. There's no telling if I would actually be brave enough for the former. My own cowardice is clear. I just don't want to ever see those Pale Monsters of that Devil Abomination again. I want to wake up tomorrow in my own bed, get called into work and help people. I want to forget about all this.

I would beg for help, but it won't come. Nor do I deserve it.