Bullshit!

How the fuck did I end up back here? I'm hiding out in an unused room, typing on a stolen laptop.

I'm back in the camp. Loki's group of ex-proxies.

Just realized I never explained who Loki is. Well, Hades kind of died shortly after I joined, but it didn't really matter since Loki was just using him as a figurehead anyways.

Anyways, gotta stay hidden until I can escape. I'll analyze the guard routines and filch supplies when needed. My next post will likely be aft

Okay, so, I started this yesterday, but then Wolf fucking walked into the room. I had chosen a good hiding spot, though, and was able to clamp my hand over her mouth before she could reveal my presence.

I talked her down, and she told me that she wants to leave as well. I had to relocate immediately, though, so I'm back to hiding in the dungeon place that

Not gonna talk about it. My ears still ache when I think about it. Long Limbs got something else to hurt me. It was on the guy recording everything, some sort of fungus.

Actually, now that I think about it, why didn't the fungus spread to me? It's gone now, but... it must have been something more than just simple fungus. It made sounds, piercing wails and horrid shrieks that made my ears bleed.

It made my parents, my sister, scream.

Once I'm done with Him, I'm coming for you, whatever the fuck you are. And you'll die, the same as Him.

Back to topic. Wolf had to get the room I was hiding in ready for a new recruit. She has some of the more menial jobs since she has such a powerful sensory ability, but she's getting sick of doing nothing but sitting around. This gives me an opportunity to try out a couple of experiments. See if it's just my blood that can hurt Him, or if another ex-proxy's will do. Or if a proxy's will do.

Wolf came into the dungeon place with a couple of sandwiches and a Coke. She's gone now, but I'm really looking forward to traveling with her. A subservient and attractive woman who wants to travel with me so that she can do more than just sit on the sidelines? Reminds me of... me, when I was younger and weaker, but I didn't the whole "being a hot chick" thing going for me.

We talked while I ate. Seems the new recruit is a sniper as well, but nowhere near as good as me. She says that she knows the next batch of guard shifts, and that we can escape easily enough during one of them that doesn't have the sniper on it.

Only reason I'm posting this is because I know for certain that Loki and his goons don't read this. He lost his best fighters because of me, and his second best fighters can't hold a candle to me.

I wish I could see the look on his damn face when I steal his radar from him.

Well. That just happened.

Okay, so I woke up just a few minutes ago. The Rake was staring at me, saw that I was awake, and pointed at a door (there are three in this room). Then it ran through a different door that disappeared when I blinked.

There is a fuckton of blood on the ground, and I'm betting that most of it is mine. So why do I feel completely fine?

Heh. Rhymes.

Also, you'd think the Rake would want to hurt me in some way after I tried to, you know, get a sample of its blood by shooting an exploding crossbow bolt at it. Oh well. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Unless that gift horse has eight spider-like legs and butterfly wings.

I lucked out, though. There is a duffel bag in this room, the room I spent the last three weeks or so in. Fuck, my ears still hurt from hearing Him speak. There is actually dried blood in my ears.

Anyways, the duffel bag. It has a change of clothes (jeans, T-shirt, shoes), a trench coat, a fedora, and a crossbow with a quiver of eighteen bolts. It also has (had) two water bottles and a loaf of bread.

I look like a fucking badass. Probably. For all I know I've gotten emaciated. Dunno, there's no mirror in here, and I really only remember a week and a half of being in here.

Whatever. I'm getting out of here, now.

ICANGIVEYOUBACKWHATYOUHAVELOST

At what cost, bastard?

YOUGIVEBACKWHATISMINE,ANDITAKEEVERYTHING

No dice, faceless fuck! I won't *screams*

TASTETHEPAINICANGIVEYOU,FEELIT

*screams, then coughs blood* Fu-fuck off, ass-hat... *screams again*

THENITAKEEVERYTHINGANYWAY

What is *screams* what i-is that guy do-doing over there?

SPREADINGWORD

*laughs, then screams* There is only so much pain you can give me, bastard! I will kill you, if I have to come back from the grave to do it! *breaks chains, runs ovpoiu nmkllknnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

I just brained the proxy with my fucking manacles. That lomb-linbede bastar gave me a bit too much power when he made his ovvefr.

Fuvl. Lost a nit tpp micg bloos. oots in vadr of death

Well... I found something related to strings. Apparently, Long Limbs isn't the only beast in town. I had to milk my contacts for all they were worth for this information, but there is a Puppeteer. I wasn't able to get a name, though, so I'll just refer to it as "the Puppeteer".


It uses strings to control its version of proxies, and maintains absolute control over them when it wants to. I wasn't able to get much else, unfortunately. Strange that my contacts would fail like that, but there is little information about Long Limbs either, so I guess it wasn't completely unexpected.


I've keep my head down here, and that's the way its gonna stay. I'm trying to avoid attention. Dyed my hair and pulled off a wardrobe change in another city.


Not much else to say.


Stay strong, Hawk. Make contact as soon as possible, please.

This is some of the worst bullshit I have ever seen. Hawk's been taken by that army, and Loki doesn't even give a fuck. I smacked him when he refused to send out a search party, and he confined me to quarters.


Like that'll happen. All packed and ready to go.


Just one thing: I'm going to be keeping an eye out for information regarding strings while I'm out looking for Hawk. I saw it again, the string in Loki's head. It was plainly visible this time.


Oh, one other thing. In the book, the one with "a grey stone of ashen glory" written in it, there was a feather that looked to be something like down. But it was orange. Phoenix, maybe? I'm keeping it with me, regardless. Might come in handy.


I'll post again in a few days. Maybe. Depends if I can find a cyber-cafe.

Wolf's clocking something big. Might be the last post I make for a while.

And no, I didn't drink the Pepsi. I'm not an idiot.

Holy fuck, is that what Wolf's clocking? A fucking army!?

Oh, fuck, I'm already hard from this! I can't wait to sink my blade into their flesh!

One's standing on top of a tree. Megaphone.

"Bring us the one you call Hawk or we raze your camp to the ground!"

Posting. Preparations take precedence.

Blurg. No sleep good sleep.

Sorry. Not terribly coherent right now. Nightmares suck balls.

Doors. Doors everywhere. Each leads to a different Hell. But my Hell is through the only door that's locked. To get to it? I have to open and look in every single other door. I woke up screaming after the twelfth door.

Shadows. Shadows permeate the walls of my room. All of them. Darkness swells in the night air as I look upon the fragile glass window.

Damn I wish I was normal still. Writing books instead of going through this bullshit. I would have loved that.

Some of the shadows seem a bit... darker than the others.

And it's Him. Long Limbs, Slender Man, Der Ritter. Whatever you like. Standing there, just outside the window.

Pricked my finger on the crossbow bolt. Hurts. Haven't felt much pain lately.

Did that actually fucking hit him!? Fuck, it did! But he pulled it out like a badass in a movie.

He's grinning without a face now. Maybe I should stop typing for now.

He just shook his fucking head. Another bolt. Went through him, no touching.

So my blood does something, hmm? Good for me. Lace this bolt with some of my blood, aim.

Hit. Right in the face. Err, lack of a face.

Pulled it outagjkbwelsndkfhdsgwlnewfdksl

Looking away. Guess that's why he's an eldritch abomination.

Looking back in five.

4

3

2

Okay, He's better now. Pointing at a spot in my room.

He vanished.

Should I warn those bastards?

Panther, for sure, but the others? Maybe Wolf, but that's it.

Checking the spot in my room now.

What the balls he gave me a bottle of Pepsi.

Well. Thanks, Slendy. Doesn't mean I won't kill you, though. I've got your weakness, I can hit you with my blood.

But what's so special about my blood?

So, then. Back to the story. I had to stop where Loki took away Hawk's spear, right? Right.


After that, Loki made this big speech to his group. Dunno if Hawk mentioned it before, but these guys are all ex-proxies. All of them. Even Hawk was a proxy when he was younger, even if he forgot it.


Loki began by saying how big of a loss they're former camp was, but that this one was more secure and there was even less chance of the Slender Man and his proxies finding us here. I didn't believe him for a second, and Hawk didn't either. Hawk actually denounced his claims, saying that the only reason that this place had a lower chance of being found is because it wasn't a place that we had been attacked at yet.


A pair of strong looking men grabbed Hawk around shoulders, but he did some sort of crazy wrestling move to flip them both over his shoulders and knock them headfirst into the ground.


I actually remember the next part vividly, so I'll give a transcription of what they said.


"I've told you before, Loki," Hawk said. "The only reason I'm here is because we have all felt what His control feels like and want to keep Him from controlling even more people. Why are you being such an idiot? Your claim is fallacy, exaggeration."


"Stop speaking out of turn, Hawk," Loki said, glaring from his position. "And stop causing harm to my people. Do you want to get kicked out of this group?"


"One: nice job avoiding my question. Two: I don't give a fuck whether I'm in your group or not. Three: when I came here, you said that I would be treated as an equal. All I have seen so far is you lording over the rest of your group. I understand that every group needs a leader, yes, but you are not leading them; you are being a dictator."


"If you don't like it, you can leave."


"No, I can't. You know damn well why I can't. You'd have me shot before I got a foot outside the camp. That was one of the conditions you gave to me when I joined, and one of the conditions you gave to Cat."


"Panther joined us of her own free will, and has made use of what would otherwise be a corpse. She knows how to use what scraps she can, something that you don't seem to."


"That was never part of the discussion. Keep to the topic or I'll kill you."


"You threatening me, Hawk?"


"Not a threat. A promise." Hawk pulled up his crossbow, which he kept loaded with regular bolts. "I took down both Elephant and Crocodile at the same time, without the use of my best trait. How far do you think you can get before I cut you down?"


"Restrain him."


A woman, the one identified as Wolf, put a hand on Hawk's shoulder and whispered something into his ear. He growled and slipped the crossbow back onto the hook on his belt. Wolf sighed, keeping her hand on his shoulder.


"If you ever forget your place again, Hawk, I will personally use this spear to kill you," Loki said, lifting the spear he'd taken from Hawk. "Get out of my sight."


Then Hawk left, and I left with him. I looked back before I left and could have sworn I saw a string coming out of the back of Loki's head. But I blinked and it was gone, so I probably just imagined it. I only put that here for recording purposes because of these uncertain times.


That's where the story ends, really. I tried to keep Hawk from drinking his ass off but he wouldn't listen.


I wasn't able to update this immediately after knocking Hawk out to prevent him from trying to rape his katana because I was told that I had to join a watch rotation. Boring as fuck. Wolf couldn't sense anything that wasn't in the camp, so I just cleaned my guns a couple times.

"Hawk" is drunk. Still. So I'm writing this instead. The meeting yesterday went about how I expected it, with myself and Loki at each other's throats. He claimed I was "unclean", so I called him a smarmy jackass who didn't know his left foot from his asshole.


Then "Hawk" came between us and sort of mediated the whole thing. Calmed us down, made us think rationally. So, seeing as Lance is braindead, permanently, I've been inducted as her replacement. My codename is Panther.


The reason "Hawk" is drunk is because Loki took his spear away, despite all of the crying and wailing and begging that Hawk did.


I'm telling you, I love him and all, but... He loves his weapons. I think that, if he could, he'd sleep with them in an instant.


Fuck. He just wandered in, read that, then said "that's a good idea" and left.


More later. Gotta keep him from killing himself stupidly.

Okay. So. Shit went down. Lance went brain-dead when Long Limbs showed up in our camp, so I got permission from Loki to put Cathryn in her.

She just read that over my shoulder and smacked me for my phrasing. I'm not changing it, though.

Well, that'll bruise.

Wolf's still kicking, but there aren't horribly many of us left. Slendy brought an entourage, no idea why, but one of them had a RPG and blew the fuck out of the medical tent.

I find it ironic that Wolf and Cat don't get along. It's like... heh.

Cat just keeps hitting me. Ooh, now I'm not getting sex tonight. Whoopdee fucking doo. I didn't have sex for months after she disappeared, and immediately before was my first time anyway. Yeah, I rocked her world as a virgin.

Damn. Now she fucking bit my shoulder and is licking up the blood. I thought I wasn't getting sex?

Oh. She wants to write something. Color change to PURPLE for Cat's writing.

Why purple? Eh, who gives a fuck.


Yeah. It's me. Now I'm back, and I'm black. Okay, so I'm not black. But I'm tan.


Shut it, Hawk. Do you want a new asshole?


The fuck? He just grinned at me and said "Got one to spare?"


... Fuck it.


So, yeah, I'm back, alive, and have some news. I've got a click on something that might be of use to people. A grey stone of ashen glory. That's what the book said.


Damn said that the book burned to ash when the med tent was blown up. I still had so much to learn from it.


What's the stone do, you ask? I haven't a clue. All I know is that it was sought after for an age before whoever wrote the book finally decided to die. That book was a damn diary.


The author said that he was searching for the stone because of a "tall figure with the longest legs, and arms like tree branches" that was following him. Dunno if Slender wants it or if he wants it hidden.

That's helpful. Really. Truly.

Stupendous! Extravagant!

And that's another bruise. Damn I missed her.

Nyeh. Loki's calling a meeting. Something about our current state of affairs.

And he wants my titanium spear back. He ain't getting it from me.

You Will Not Believe This

I can't believe it, myself!

So, yesterday I was out on a provision gathering mission (read: went grocery shopping) and found this collapsed woman in dirty clothes. She was just outside Walmart, so I didn't think much of it at first. But then she started mumbling. I was just barely able to hear her saying my name. Something about needing help.

That's when I recognized her.

It was Cathryn! You know, Defiled Shepherd!

So, I brought her with me back to the base and went straight to the medical station, where our doc (codename Life) was taking a nap. I woke her and she started doing stuff. I don't know much about medicine.

But holy shit, it was Cathryn!

I can't wait for her to stabilize so I can talk to her again! I'm not too worried about her body dying, you know; she is a sentient mask that the body absorbed, after all. It might say something about my morals that I don't care about an innocent person dying if my friend gets to live, but I just don't give a fuck anymore.

Crap. I've just been summoned to talk to Hades. Have I mentioned how much I dislike him? I'm pretty sure I did. Oh well.

Until next time. Maybe I'll be able to tell you about this meeting.

Unlikely.

Finally

The leader of this little band of rebels that I've become a part of has finally allowed me to begin posting on this blog again. However, he's said that he'll kick me out if I talk about any assignments I know of without consulting him first.

He calls us "The Reformed" because we've all experienced the taint of eldritch power firsthand. I haven't told him yet, but I can still sense that power in some small degree, some primal instinct in the back of my head, and that he still has a bit of the eldritch in him.

I don't trust him.

He insists on being called Hades. Some bullshit about leading those "that have been damned".

The only thing that I like about him is that he gave me an amazing spear. Made of titanium-steel alloy, the pole is segmented and can push into a bit of the blade (kinda like a toy lightsaber). All I have to carry around is about a foot of sharp metal, and I can retract the pole easily enough to prepare myself for combat.

I absolutely love it!

Hades has given me permission to speak of my latest mission, however, which should be interesting enough to hold you, my fleeing and possibly deranged fans, for a little while.

He sent me and a few others (codenames are Hawk (me), Lance, Wolf, and Gorilla) to get a blood sample from the Rake. The mission failed horribly of course. That thing has some seriously tough hide. Not even Gorilla with her machete could cut through it.

About three weeks ago, we were sent out on the assignment into the last place any of us had seen him. Of course, this meant being flown out to Germany and searching around the Black Forest. I had some bad flashbacks when I stepped off the plane. Pretty sure I've got some sort of PTSD.

Lance was team leader, a rather attractive blonde woman. She represents Fire, the most visible of the elements in my last post, and she is actually a good leader.

Wolf was our team's tracker, and she's a rather attractive raven-haired woman. She represents Water, and has a better ability to sense the eldritch power than I do. She can sense an eldritch being within three miles, which gives us a good warning of when it's time to move.

Gorilla, may she rest in peace, was our team's striker, a fast and strong attacker. I'm not going to comment on her physical appearance because she is dead. She represents Stone, and she lived by the creed as much as she could.

I was the sniper, and was given a crossbow and several explosive bolts. I apparently represent Wind because of the rapid changes that I've been going through these last... it's only been fucking 7 months!?!

Holy shit.

Back on topic. We searched for two weeks before we found the Rake. It was ripping into a tree for some reason, but did not seem to notice us. I took the shot, the bolt exploding on impact with the creature's strong hide. The tree fell over because of the blast, but we weren't able to see what had happened to the Rake because of the smoke and dust the blast kicked up.

When the smoke cleared and the dust settled, the Rake was staring right at me. It nodded ever so slightly, and then Gorilla rushed towards it, her diamond-dust edged machete swinging down in a diagonal arc. It did no damage to the Rake.

That was when it killed it.

Lance made a decision that we should retreat. Our two best weapons had done no damage to the damned thing, and we'd lost our strongest fighter. We fled for nearly a week back through the Black Forest, then hopped on a plane headed back for [REDACTED], where our base is.

We were debriefed, a brief memorial service was held for Gorilla, and then I wrote this.

Goodbye, and good luck.

Hello, this is Lance. I have removed the location of our base that Hawk so carelessly left in. I have since reprimanded him.

Do You Agree?

Change is the birth of eternity.

Without change, there is nothing.

The passing of time is change; without it, there would be nothing to remember, nothing to contain, nothing at all.

Life is change in motion; without life, there would be nothing that can remember. None of us would be alive to contemplate the meaning of change.

Change is often feared. It is the unknown.

The Unknown is Feared.

The Man with Long Limbs feeds off of that Fear.

The Man with Long Limbs is an Entity of Change. He lives it, he breathes it, he sees the paths it takes through the world around him.

The Man with Long Limbs is our enemy.

Only by knowing our enemy can we defeat our enemy.

Embrace the Change in the Air.

Feel the Change in the Water.

See the Change in the Fire.

Live the Change in the Stone.

Be the Change in Chaos.

Be the Change in Order.

~The Creed of The Reformed

Guess What?

Don't ask me why, but I need to post this.
Blame Him.

Back all of 8 years ago, when I was 10, I served the Slender Man as a faithful slave. My eyesight was amazing; I was able to count the number of spots on a ladybug from a hundred feet away. It was this that caused him to recruit me.

Well, that and the fact that I was an outcast. A pariah.

Nevermind that, it isn't important now.

He used me as a sniper. Me, a 10-year-old kid, and He thought me a better sniper than an ex-Navy SEAL that he had in his grip. My hands were steady, my eyes were like a hawk's; my first three kills and He saw how good I was. It was all it took for him to promote me.

I became one of the Revenants, not by the definition that is currently being used. He let me use some of his power during my forth hit. It changed me more than I thought possible. My eyesight diminished to what it is now, my hands grew shaky, and I had a hard time getting enough oxygen into my blood stream.

It's not that I wasn't getting enough oxygen because of lung problems, however; on the contrary, my lungs are perfectly fine by normal standards. But I have... I don't know what to call it. Cuts and bruises heal faster, my bones are stronger, and I pack on compact muscle very easily. I'm no bodybuilder, but I'm tough. It makes running a bitch, though.

After this, I was out from His control. I remember panicking as I raised the scope to my eye during that last hit, having tried to use some of the Eldritch power that He'd put under my control.

I guess I should have known better than to use the power of the Eldritch.

I'd dropped the rifle. He was there, instantly by my side. I could feel his commands more than hear them, but I could also feel that I'd touched something wrong.

That the master I'd served was wrong.

He'd repressed my memories, but they came back recently. MarbleHornets had been too much of a reminder. I don't know what those poor bastards are going through now, but... I wish them luck.

When I saw the images, the stories, all of the blogs and vlogs out there, some primal part of me that hadn't forgotten what had been repressed started shouting at me.

"This is your enemy! Face him! Kill him before he kills you!"

Back then, I was feeble, meek, depressed. I indulged myself, thinking that everything was fiction and that there would be no harm by putting my own spin on things.

I was wrong.

By making this blog, I began to notice the discrepancies around me, all of the subtle hints and massively obvious statements. My memories came back because of the arrow that lodged itself in my stomach, and the hawk feathers that it was fletched with.

I'm stronger now. He has undone the harm His gift caused, without taking away the good. My eyes are back, my hands are steady. Breath comes easier, but the high oxygen levels have not gone done.

He stands over me now.

He wants to know.

What do I think of this master? This being that can never be known, defined, reasoned?

My entire life, I've devoted to learning. I never wanted to stop. Not after high school, not after college, not after a trade school, not even after I died.

Here is my answer, Pale King.

Go fuck yourself.

thebenefactorisdead
allliesforgottenintheshade
flamesswellupfromthemist
darknessapproaches
thepalekingwillruleagain

Well... that was a mindfuck.

During my temporary near-comatose state, I was in a dreaming state as well. That "dream" was me awakening my repressed memories. Unfortunately, only about a tenth of them involved the Slender One.

pale king must not fight must not fight must submit not fight not fight notfightnotfightnotfight

Fucking hell that was painful

Apparently, I used to be a proxy. Three kills. Made them. Old instincts surfacing.

submit to control pale king wants hawkeye back must not fight must not fight

I broke free of his control, but it cost me my vision. I didn't go blind, but my vision dropped from better than possible for a normal human to 20/20. I used to have the eyes of a hawk, able to see perfect clarity from a hundred feet away.

submitsubmitsubmitsubmitsubmit

I'm getting closer to the Black Forest. Whether I

submitsubmitsubmitsubmitsubmit

Whether I submit or fight is still a matter of issue for me.

I'm just lucky I found a hotel with a soundproof room. Otherwise I'd be freaking some people out right now.

palekingmustlivenotdieneverdiesubmitsubmitsubmitsubmitsubmit

I put this in writing lest i forget t from my nexty sleep.
i remeber seeing the Slnedr man. when i was a kid. 10 years old.

The Pale King

The Valley of Trees

Forest of Black Magick

The Unknown becoming Known

DO NOT KILL THE WILLOW MAN

Life, Death, Luck, Fate.

All is Ash without the Faceless.

fuckin pain. nothin bu pain.

proxy shot me with a fuking arrow. bitch was taunting me.

the fuck am i sposed to say in hospital? "i got shot with an arrow by the servent of eldritch monster." beleivable it aint.

fuck. blood everywhere.

when i get my hands on that bitkhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,awgh

Strange to find nother AMerican here, specially one with an arrow in his gut. He's alive, and he'll make it, but he's sleeping now.

Good thing I got here fast, or you'd half to deal with to many h's. I'll take him to the hospital now.

Hello all. This is... well, you all know me as Defiled Shepherd. But... I tire of that name. It makes me seem evil, demented. I can't really remember what my name was anymore.

It started with a "C", that much I know. Candy... no. Cynthia, no. Catherine, no- wait. Close. So close. Cathryn. That was it. Cathryn is my name.

Call me Cathryn.

Anyway, I've stopped being Patrick's guardian for a while now, and he gets it in his head to go off and try out a bunch of things to kill the Slender Man.

There is more going on than he realizes. I still have the Book, something that I don't think he knows, but I don't know enough to translate anything. It all just looks like gibberish to me.

First time in my thousand years that I haven't known something.

Seriously, what the fuck is this? All I have translated is what Patrick managed to translate before he got...

The translated pieces reference someone called "Shepherd of the Defiled" and how he or she will lead the world into a "Revelation".

I can't really get much out of this shit. Seriously, Patrick, why did you need this? What is the significance? And for that matter, why do I still feel that it is important?

Turns out my plane landed on the wrong side of the damn country. Still got another few weeks before I can reach the Black Forest at this rate.

I had some trouble with customs, considering I brought two suitcases full of seemingly random items of varying value. A chunk of copper and a knife with a ruby blade were the things on top of the pile in the first suitcase, and the guy who had searched my luggage just gave me a funny look before continuing his listing. Might post the list at some point.

Anyways, I bought a cheap car (just burning through the money in my bank) and started heading south. Had to fight off a pair of proxies the other day, but that wasn't terribly difficult.

Unfortunately, I think we might be dealing with more than just the Slender Man. I saw something the other day. Skin white as porcelain, a hunched form, and claws longer than my arm. No idea what the fuck that thing was, but I hope that a devil eats me alive before that thing so much as looks at me. No idea what it was, either.

I'm shaking in fear just from the memory of driving by while that thing ran... well, sort of loped, not ran... anyways, it ran into a small forested area. I really, really hope it didn't see me. Scared the shit out of me. Since then, I've kept a few daggers on me. One in each boot and one up each sleeve.

Anyways, I've been making decent progress. Getting closer. Just waiting for this all to be over now. Just gotta get to the Black Forest.

To my death.

Ready to die

I have everything I need for the inevitable encounter that will likely end with me dead. I can imagine only two possible scenarios for the fight: me dying because none of the shit I've compiled works at all (99% chance of this happening); or Slender Man dying/evaporating/ceasing to exist/leaving to recover (1% chance of any of these happening at absolute maximum) because I managed to find something that hurts him.

However, I want to have something along the lines of a fair fight. Don't ask me why, but I feel that any victory would be hollow if it is gained through an unfair means.

Hence, I'm flying off to Germany. I'll wage this war in the Black Forest, where it is rumored that this all started.

Wish me luck. I'm going to need it.

Thank you, Defiled Shepherd, for giving me the muscle memory of a black belt. Those five proxies were a snap to knock out.

I am not normally a very violent person, but I do what I need to in order to survive. When nearly half a dozen people rush at me with knives and crude clubs, I fight back. When a faceless eldritch abomination threatens my life, I try to find a way to kill it and bring some measure of peace to my life.

I can assume that you're still wondering why I've become so focused on killing this damn thing. The answer is as obvious as it is incoherent.

He erased my family from existence.

My mother, my father, my sister...

Sorry, trying to avoid relapsing into that emotionless murderer. I hate what I was then.

I need to kill him. My meaning in this world is to give those around me some measure of happiness. What better way than to kill something that threatens their very existence?

What has been going on in these parts has been, for the most part, insane. This town fell into complete anarchy literally a day after I passed through.

HE was probably pissed that HE hasn't caught me yet.

I'm almost ready to face him. DS left me. Found her a suitable body, very feminine, then let her do whatever the hell she wanted. She thanked me in a way that woke up a few of my emotions.

I'm back. But my revenge comes first.

Just a few more materials. I need a fresh rowan quarterstaff, a ruby, a chunk of topaz, a silver-titanium alloy knife, and a violet laser pointer.

Probably gonna take me at least two weeks to get all this shit.

Gotta tell you, though, my backpack is getting pretty fucking heavy.

Well, fuck. I'm surrounded. Expect another post either within a day or never.

I saw Josh today. I'm in a city far away from California. No comatose patients in the hospital, unfortunately, so I can't put Defiled Shepherd into her own body yet.

He was different. His eyes had changed color since I'd last seen him. They have turned purple.

He didn't see me.

Is he a proxy? Or a host for an entity similar to DS?

Either way, I'm not getting involved with him unless he involves himself with me.

The book contains only prophecy. It is of no use to me.

Defiled Shepherd whined at me enough to make me keep the useless thing. Once I find a new host for DS, I'll make her carry it if she continues to want it for translation.

I'm nearing a big city now. Maybe I'll find a comatose patient at the hospital who I can slip DS into.

She tried to make me write down what happened to numb my emotions, so I removed her from my mind. The mask is with me still, of course, as she still has input that will likely be invaluable, but her complaints managed to annoy me enough to remove her.

I will not let myself feel emotions until my job is done. Whether my role in this be large or small, I will fulfill it wherever I can.

Defiled Shepherd isn't the only one with proxy kills anymore.

Peace and Safety // Options

I've found a place that will be safe for the night. A brief reprieve, but a necessary one.

Things have happened... I can't say some of them. It isn't my place to.

This week... It became... dull, somewhere along the way. The constant fear and dread has reduced my emotions to practically nothing. I feel... numb without them.

The lack of emotional strength has increased the clarity of my thought, however. I have managed to set a few goals that my previous mindset would not have even considered beforehand.

1: Find a new host for Defiled Shepherd. Her complaints and protests will likely be much more tolerable when she isn't occupying valuable space in my thought processes.

2: Renew focus on finding a way to kill the Slender Man, including exploration of a few paths that I had not even thought of previously. Lure and contain methods; blood magic; summoning an equally powerful entity to fight the Slender Man for me.

3: Find allies. A lone wolf does not survive in a war for long, and I want to live long enough to see the Shepherd of the Defiled rise up and be heard.

In addition, I will continue to translate the book that I was previously obsessed with. I might find a way to kill him in there, and I fully intend to practice any battle magic I find in there on him.

Now, Defiled Shepherd wishes to say something. I am obliged to let her, as she has saved my life on numerous occasions.

-Patrick

Get me a fucking new host! No, that wasn't just to Patrick, the insane bastard that he is; if any of you can help me find a new body, I will owe you at least a dozen favors, and a favor from a being like me isn't anything to be taken lightly.

Seriously, I can't say what (his control over his own mind and body has grown too high with the death of his emotions), but he has suffered a great tragedy that he does not know how to deal with. His emotions have all but died, and the only thing left on his mind is revenge against the bastard you all know.

I can't help him with that. I'm truly sorry to him, and all of you, but the Slender One is more powerful than anything I could handle. An Iata would fall all too quickly before me, but I just cannot fight whatever the Slender One is.

Patrick seems convinced that he is the only one who can actually kill the sick tentacled fucker. I doubt it. He represents the fear of all that is unknown, a fear that all humans share. Although, Patrick does have more of a chance than the average runner; he classifies within his mind everything he sees or hears or hears about. If anyone can conquer a fear of the unknown, Patrick holds one of the highest probabilities, maybe 3.2% chances of him actually finding a way to kill the Slender Man.

If he is to win in any capacity, I cannot be there with him. For a person to conquer one of their fears, they have to do it on their own.

One thing has peaked my interest, though. Two days ago, when Patrick and I came closest to death, I saw his life flash before our eyes. One of the things I saw gave me an idea. I told Patrick my idea, and he rejected it.

I'll lay it here, in text over what may not be a reliable medium for long, just in case any of you brave people want to explore it as an option.

Instinctive fear breeds instinctive hatred. Fear of the unknown causes hatred and intolerance of what is not known. One of the oddest fads to have passed before Patrick's eyes represents the opposites.

Love and tolerance is the opposite of hatred and intolerance. This is what I realized from the images of cartoon ponies and internet forums that flashed in our eyes.

The "Brony" movement may well be salvation from our faceless foe.

-Defiled Shepherd

A moment of rest

That didn't go well at all. I... I saw Him again. That twisted fucker.

I've been given an ultimatum. Either I can go insane in my isolation, or I can die a gruesome death.

I don't see any other options.

Excluding suicide. But... that is... I can't kill myself.

I will not end any life, not even my own, not even to give peace.

I might as well come clean with where I am. In the middle of Nowhere, Arkansas. This tiny-ass town has maybe a hundred people in it, and half of them are middle-aged.

I hate it here, and I wouldn't even have set foot in this fucking town if not f

SHIT

Fine. Safe, even.

Hey, all. No, I haven't been attacked again, and I haven't gotten news of any attacks on my friends, or family.

Then again, I haven't heard from any one in Gilroy since I called my family on Christmas.

I really shouldn't be doing this, but I can't stand being alone for this long. DS and I have pretty much run out of things to talk about, except for the occasional critique of my work.

Other than the glorified voice in my head, I have nothing. No one. Just me and a sentient mask I absorbed into my head.

I... I need some contact with others. Even if it's just through my speaking through this blog.

Even if that damnable thing comes back for my blood, I'll be fully willing to take its evil back into my life if it means I can shake this fucking loneliness and stagnancy.

I know I'm being selfish, and I don't give a fuck.

I used to wish for solitude like this. Well, not exactly like this; when I imagined it, I didn't have a voice in my head. Well, now I have the solitude, and I'm ready to give it back to whoever I took it from.

I didn't realize it, but... I need people.

I apologize in advance for anything of terribly length or wordiness that I post on this blog. I only have a being of unknowable age and immense intellect in my mind, a couple dozen novels (read all of them at least twice by now), and a dictionary for company.

I can't say where I am, but I don't have cable. I have power and wifi, and I'm not in Pennsylvania anymore, but I can't watch TV except on Hulu or what little I can find posted on Youtube.

I'm going to switch the blog's time back to Pacific time, just to help me remember what time it is back home.