-M here. note is talking a... extended leave of absence, and thus is unable to tend to his blog. what a fucking idiot, posting this. in any case, this is his latest completed draft. i'll be taking over for the time being.
This is the only file on the recorder that wasn't corrupted beyond measure. Used a shitbox PC I threw together from spare parts to play it. I've learned my lesson.
File starts.
[Some banging, coughing and swearing. The voice throughout the file is heavily distorted. From what I can tell, the file wasn't edited in any way. M seems to have the same effect on electronic devices as Tall and Dapper does.]
[More banging, before a thump and the sounds of a can opening, before M takes a drink.]
Ah, good stuff. Right, to business. Hi there, Note. I know your real name, but I feel like we should keep this professional, you understand. I don't want you thinking I care about you. Cause I don't. To me, you're a fucking pawn. See, I have a small issue, that I can't deal with myself. And you have your own issue with Stick-In-The-Mud, as it were. Now, these issues of ours have, at this time, a common objective. You want to not be dead in 3 months time, and I want...
[M pauses here, taking another drink of whatever he has.]
I want, well... More need, your help. See, there are rules. Certain things I can and cannot do. If I break the rules, well.. [M chuckles] Stick-In-The-Mud is smallfry compared to what comes after me. So! To the point!
[M drinks the rest of his can, before tossing it away, it echoing in the background.]
You are, as of now, my bitch. You are a simple human. I am a feral God. By now, you've seen what I can do, what our enemy can do. I imagine you've tried finding out more, on that wonderful think you humans call the Internet. Good boy. Information is power. You have knowledge, and the ability to find it. I have the capacity to act upon it. But first, you need to find something for me. I need you to go to [Location redacted for safety] and retrieve the lockbox there. It's fairly obvious, shouldn't give you much trouble. We'll talk after you have it.
File ends.
Friday, 16 May 2014
Wednesday, 30 April 2014
Possibilities.
Back online. Finally. For those wondering as to my extended absence, I attempted to update a picture of the symbol painted onto my house walls to Imgur. It didn't go well. As I immediately guessed when I saw it, it is some kind of rune, the kind that fucks everything up when you put it on something. Long story short, I had to scrap my hard drives, get new ones, redo my Windows and Ubuntu installs, redo all of my security measures (a recent development I neglected to mention) and finally I had to buy a new power supply because my old one was fried. Thank god I didn't get to upload it, upon thought.
Secondly, my friend. He's dead. Really, really dead. When I arrived at his house, he resembled something put inside a blender. I'll be honest, I emptied my guts. Had the sense to grab a pot to do it into, at least. Here's where it gets freaky.
On the wall was a Post-it note, with a little arrow pointing up drawn on it. You know, normal horror thing. You look up, look back down and BAM something scary. So, being the complete retard that I am, I look up... And get knocked the fuck out. Well, I assume that's what happened. I don't remember. Next thing I do remember is waking up to some... Something tapping me on the head. I look up to see what's hitting me with a fucking stick, and it feels like my eyes are being fucking burnt out of my head. Like, actual burning feeling. It fucking hurt, is what I'm saying. But it's not Tall and Dapper. Unless he's swapped the Dapper part of his reputation for jeans and a shitty leather jacket. Anyway, this guy tosses me a audio recorder, one of the shitty $20 ones you can get from any electronics store ever, waves and goes to leave. And THEN fucking Slenderman shows up (I've run out of ideas for nicknames. His buddies can get in as they please anyway, so what does saying his name matter?). And Leather-Jacket turns and, I swear to god, he attacks Him somehow. I dunno how, he just does. At this point, tentacles start coming out and I run like hell. I heard later on that the place burnt to the ground. Official story is that my friend was still inside when it lit up.
I listened to what was on the audio recorder. It was... Well, Leather-Jacket is M. He kept referring to a rift of some kind. And something called The Second. The fuck does that mean? M you fucker, you are not helping me here, you are just making more fucking questions!
Thirdly, the last two posts. There were about 5 more like that in my drafts. I sure as shit didn't type them. Now, the words are lyrics to songs. The first being to Prayer by Disturbed and the second being to Frantic by Metallica. Why those two songs? Prayer is, from what I remember, about lose, while Frantic is about someone who knows exactly when they die. That feels... Threatening.
The numbers and shit are Hexadecimal. That, I know. Did some training in IT before going 'fuck it' and getting my painter's apprenticeship. Both posts are equally weird. It's like whoever wrote it is afraid. The first post also talks about this rift. What is it? A gateway to another world? His world? Is it a way to stop him?
Oh god please let it be a way to stop him.
Secondly, my friend. He's dead. Really, really dead. When I arrived at his house, he resembled something put inside a blender. I'll be honest, I emptied my guts. Had the sense to grab a pot to do it into, at least. Here's where it gets freaky.
On the wall was a Post-it note, with a little arrow pointing up drawn on it. You know, normal horror thing. You look up, look back down and BAM something scary. So, being the complete retard that I am, I look up... And get knocked the fuck out. Well, I assume that's what happened. I don't remember. Next thing I do remember is waking up to some... Something tapping me on the head. I look up to see what's hitting me with a fucking stick, and it feels like my eyes are being fucking burnt out of my head. Like, actual burning feeling. It fucking hurt, is what I'm saying. But it's not Tall and Dapper. Unless he's swapped the Dapper part of his reputation for jeans and a shitty leather jacket. Anyway, this guy tosses me a audio recorder, one of the shitty $20 ones you can get from any electronics store ever, waves and goes to leave. And THEN fucking Slenderman shows up (I've run out of ideas for nicknames. His buddies can get in as they please anyway, so what does saying his name matter?). And Leather-Jacket turns and, I swear to god, he attacks Him somehow. I dunno how, he just does. At this point, tentacles start coming out and I run like hell. I heard later on that the place burnt to the ground. Official story is that my friend was still inside when it lit up.
I listened to what was on the audio recorder. It was... Well, Leather-Jacket is M. He kept referring to a rift of some kind. And something called The Second. The fuck does that mean? M you fucker, you are not helping me here, you are just making more fucking questions!
Thirdly, the last two posts. There were about 5 more like that in my drafts. I sure as shit didn't type them. Now, the words are lyrics to songs. The first being to Prayer by Disturbed and the second being to Frantic by Metallica. Why those two songs? Prayer is, from what I remember, about lose, while Frantic is about someone who knows exactly when they die. That feels... Threatening.
The numbers and shit are Hexadecimal. That, I know. Did some training in IT before going 'fuck it' and getting my painter's apprenticeship. Both posts are equally weird. It's like whoever wrote it is afraid. The first post also talks about this rift. What is it? A gateway to another world? His world? Is it a way to stop him?
Oh god please let it be a way to stop him.
Sunday, 27 April 2014
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Wednesday, 23 April 2014
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Monday, 21 April 2014
Jesus Fucking Christ.
I finally feel safe enough to spend any amount of time typing. If you have been on my Twitter, you'll know why. If not, well, here's a recap.
I went into the city on Friday with a couple of friends to a party. Sober driver, all that jazz. Had a great time, actually. We all did. Even got a chick's number. Lucky me. Anyway, I come back home after dropping off my mates, get inside, boot my computer up to check emails, stuff like that, mix myself a rum and cola and go to the bathroom to take a piss. I didn't actually see him head on. Saw his reflecting in the mirror. Now, my bathroom door is directly across from the mirror, so I can see what's behind the door as I'm opening it. And he was there, waiting. Pretty sure tentacles were involved. I didn't take a good look; The second I saw his general shape I bolted. Grabbed my wallet, keys, sleeping pills and booked it out of there. My own fucking house, and he scares me out of it. Now I know how Noah felt. Poor bastard.
In any case, I drove. I drove for about an hour. Wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Away, was where I wanted to go. I found some shitty roadside motel, got a room, then spent the rest of the night coughing blood. Good times.
First thing I do Saturday is go to a hunting store and buy a fuck-off knife. Not much use on him, but more then enough to deal with any nasties he left behind. Thankfully, there weren't any. The only thing out of place was basically everything; It looked like a fucking tornado had gone through my house.
Oh, and the creepy as shit drawings all over the walls. Looked like something pulled from Alex's book of crazy. I scrubbed off what I could and painted over the rest. Looks fucking awful, but better then having possible magical runes in my house. I did draw a copy of the most common one, though. In a book. That I put in a safety deposit box this morning. Fuck keeping something like that in my house, I watched Severance, damnit. I'm crazy, not stupid. I'll take a photo of it and upload it from a library or net cafe tomorrow.
The sleeping pills have stopped working, as well. I feel like he may have taken the real ones and replaced them. Or his influence is just that strong on me at this point. I'm real fucking scared. He was in my house. My Pā, my fort. He has to have something that keeps him out. I have to find it. Or else I'll wake up one morning reenacting a really bad tentacle hentai with him.
Also, I got a call from one of the friends I had over for dinner last week. He's having trouble sleeping as well, and seeing shit out of the corner of his eye. I didn't say anything. I just hung up.
I need to save him. At least, from being taken by his royal tentacleness.
I may have a use for that knife after all. May Lucifer watch over me, cause God surely won't.
I went into the city on Friday with a couple of friends to a party. Sober driver, all that jazz. Had a great time, actually. We all did. Even got a chick's number. Lucky me. Anyway, I come back home after dropping off my mates, get inside, boot my computer up to check emails, stuff like that, mix myself a rum and cola and go to the bathroom to take a piss. I didn't actually see him head on. Saw his reflecting in the mirror. Now, my bathroom door is directly across from the mirror, so I can see what's behind the door as I'm opening it. And he was there, waiting. Pretty sure tentacles were involved. I didn't take a good look; The second I saw his general shape I bolted. Grabbed my wallet, keys, sleeping pills and booked it out of there. My own fucking house, and he scares me out of it. Now I know how Noah felt. Poor bastard.
In any case, I drove. I drove for about an hour. Wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Away, was where I wanted to go. I found some shitty roadside motel, got a room, then spent the rest of the night coughing blood. Good times.
First thing I do Saturday is go to a hunting store and buy a fuck-off knife. Not much use on him, but more then enough to deal with any nasties he left behind. Thankfully, there weren't any. The only thing out of place was basically everything; It looked like a fucking tornado had gone through my house.
Oh, and the creepy as shit drawings all over the walls. Looked like something pulled from Alex's book of crazy. I scrubbed off what I could and painted over the rest. Looks fucking awful, but better then having possible magical runes in my house. I did draw a copy of the most common one, though. In a book. That I put in a safety deposit box this morning. Fuck keeping something like that in my house, I watched Severance, damnit. I'm crazy, not stupid. I'll take a photo of it and upload it from a library or net cafe tomorrow.
The sleeping pills have stopped working, as well. I feel like he may have taken the real ones and replaced them. Or his influence is just that strong on me at this point. I'm real fucking scared. He was in my house. My Pā, my fort. He has to have something that keeps him out. I have to find it. Or else I'll wake up one morning reenacting a really bad tentacle hentai with him.
Also, I got a call from one of the friends I had over for dinner last week. He's having trouble sleeping as well, and seeing shit out of the corner of his eye. I didn't say anything. I just hung up.
I need to save him. At least, from being taken by his royal tentacleness.
I may have a use for that knife after all. May Lucifer watch over me, cause God surely won't.
Thursday, 17 April 2014
Thoughts and Update
Tulpa. The concept where something is willed into existence through sheer belief, spiritual or otherwise. More then one person has suggested that tulpa is the origin of my recurring visitor, that some stupid picture editing contest on Something Awful resulted in this thing being willed into existence by thousands of gullible browsers of the internet.
I think that they are wrong. Humanity has always had a fear of the dark. For good reason. One of our major advantages biologically is our eyesight, which, although not as good as some other beings on this planet, is still damn impressive, and we have color vision, a massive advantage over other animals. But, we traded our night vision for it; Put frankly, we can't see shit in the dark. That's why we invented street lights. But maybe we're afraid of the dark because of what lives in it.
I went to the doctors today. Had a full examination, got asked some questions. Got a script for sleeping pills, as well as some off-the-shelf vitamin pills. Then I went to the local marae. Most of the elders weren't there, but one was. I asked him about any local legends or myths of creatures that took children, drove people mad, the usual. The elder gave me the usual Māori legends, monsters, even told me one of the Māui legends. That was kinda cool. But ultimately, unhelpful. He did give me a blessing, however, and blessed a hei matau for me (I ordered it a few days ago. Real greenstone, very nice). I thanked him and left.
And ye ol' tall and dapper was waiting for me. Funny thing, though. He was way away, far enough away that I didn't spot him at first. He moved a few times as I walked (well, closer to jogged as fast as I could without making a scene) back to my car. But he never came onto marae grounds. It's almost as if he wouldn't come onto marae grounds. This is interesting. As far as I know, he doesn't give a damn about boundaries or grounds. So why wouldn't he come onto the marae? Might be some history in this that the elder wouldn't tell me about. May need to look into this more.
Trip home was uneventful. Didn't see him the entire way. Had to stop to get some milk and stuff on the way, and found something that pissed me off. Some shit had spray-painted the Operator's symbol onto the side of the store. Seems like someone watched MH or played Slender and thought it would be a funny joke. Fuck him, I hope he gets taken before me. Might take the edge off his hunger. Anyway, I'm going to go back with a brush and paint tomorrow, paint over it. No real reason, I just feel like it. Damn eyesore.
I feel safer. The hei matau might actually be helping. My cough has eased off a little as well. I also put that small text into Libre Office and blew the font size up. Mostly gibberish, doesn't translate to any code or programming language. But, there were caps and italics in amongst it. I AM WAITING and do not give in. One is fucking obvious and the other is... Somewhat comforting. Someone out there is rooting for me, in their own little way. Wish they would actually help me.
And then there's that Twitter shit. M. M M M. Who the fuck is this guy? Breaks into my house, starts my computer, leaves a Tweet and fucks off. Fucking bastard does nothing else. My car wouldn't start a few days ago, after work. Spent an hour fixing it. And my cough was really bad that day. Bastard's been following me.
Gonna go throw back a couple of this pills, see what happens. Probably put Comfortably Numb on repeat until I fall asleep/ pass out.
I think that they are wrong. Humanity has always had a fear of the dark. For good reason. One of our major advantages biologically is our eyesight, which, although not as good as some other beings on this planet, is still damn impressive, and we have color vision, a massive advantage over other animals. But, we traded our night vision for it; Put frankly, we can't see shit in the dark. That's why we invented street lights. But maybe we're afraid of the dark because of what lives in it.
I went to the doctors today. Had a full examination, got asked some questions. Got a script for sleeping pills, as well as some off-the-shelf vitamin pills. Then I went to the local marae. Most of the elders weren't there, but one was. I asked him about any local legends or myths of creatures that took children, drove people mad, the usual. The elder gave me the usual Māori legends, monsters, even told me one of the Māui legends. That was kinda cool. But ultimately, unhelpful. He did give me a blessing, however, and blessed a hei matau for me (I ordered it a few days ago. Real greenstone, very nice). I thanked him and left.
And ye ol' tall and dapper was waiting for me. Funny thing, though. He was way away, far enough away that I didn't spot him at first. He moved a few times as I walked (well, closer to jogged as fast as I could without making a scene) back to my car. But he never came onto marae grounds. It's almost as if he wouldn't come onto marae grounds. This is interesting. As far as I know, he doesn't give a damn about boundaries or grounds. So why wouldn't he come onto the marae? Might be some history in this that the elder wouldn't tell me about. May need to look into this more.
Trip home was uneventful. Didn't see him the entire way. Had to stop to get some milk and stuff on the way, and found something that pissed me off. Some shit had spray-painted the Operator's symbol onto the side of the store. Seems like someone watched MH or played Slender and thought it would be a funny joke. Fuck him, I hope he gets taken before me. Might take the edge off his hunger. Anyway, I'm going to go back with a brush and paint tomorrow, paint over it. No real reason, I just feel like it. Damn eyesore.
I feel safer. The hei matau might actually be helping. My cough has eased off a little as well. I also put that small text into Libre Office and blew the font size up. Mostly gibberish, doesn't translate to any code or programming language. But, there were caps and italics in amongst it. I AM WAITING and do not give in. One is fucking obvious and the other is... Somewhat comforting. Someone out there is rooting for me, in their own little way. Wish they would actually help me.
And then there's that Twitter shit. M. M M M. Who the fuck is this guy? Breaks into my house, starts my computer, leaves a Tweet and fucks off. Fucking bastard does nothing else. My car wouldn't start a few days ago, after work. Spent an hour fixing it. And my cough was really bad that day. Bastard's been following me.
Gonna go throw back a couple of this pills, see what happens. Probably put Comfortably Numb on repeat until I fall asleep/ pass out.
Monday, 14 April 2014
Problematic.
Paranoia. Delusions. Insomnia. Debilitating coughs. Kids straight up vanishing from locked homes and parks.
Yeah, don't that sound familiar? Well it sure did to me. I'm not an idiot. I've had access to the Internet in the last few years. Of course, I couldn't just run around yelling what's up at the top of my lungs, could I? People think I'm crazy as is. Maybe I am. Most people who know what I'm talking about, faced with evidence that it's in their neck of the woods, would freak out. Panic. Maybe go batshit insane after a few encounters.
Me? I'm curious. I know my days are numbered. I've been coughing up a storm for weeks, seeing shit out of the corner of my eye, noticing figures out under the streetlights in the middle of the night. Does it scare the shit out of me? Fuck yes. But am I going to let it dominate me? Hell. No.
Work's got me booked up for a doctor's appointment in a few days. Gonna try to get a real night's sleep before then. Won't, most likely. Maybe some sleeping pills will do me some good. Even with music playing, I can barely sleep these days. Not that I really slept at night anyway. Was more of a night owl.
Maybe I'll pay a visit to the local iwi elders. Ask them about any legends referring to a te roa me te pūhihi tangata, see if there are any. Things like this don't just pop up overnight. If nothing else, I might be able to get a necklace or something blessed. Probably won't help, but it'll make me feel better.
Until then, just gonna keep listening to music. It's keeping me relatively sane.
I won't run from this. We all know you can't escape. I just hope I don't drag anyone I care about into this.
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Yeah, don't that sound familiar? Well it sure did to me. I'm not an idiot. I've had access to the Internet in the last few years. Of course, I couldn't just run around yelling what's up at the top of my lungs, could I? People think I'm crazy as is. Maybe I am. Most people who know what I'm talking about, faced with evidence that it's in their neck of the woods, would freak out. Panic. Maybe go batshit insane after a few encounters.
Me? I'm curious. I know my days are numbered. I've been coughing up a storm for weeks, seeing shit out of the corner of my eye, noticing figures out under the streetlights in the middle of the night. Does it scare the shit out of me? Fuck yes. But am I going to let it dominate me? Hell. No.
Work's got me booked up for a doctor's appointment in a few days. Gonna try to get a real night's sleep before then. Won't, most likely. Maybe some sleeping pills will do me some good. Even with music playing, I can barely sleep these days. Not that I really slept at night anyway. Was more of a night owl.
Maybe I'll pay a visit to the local iwi elders. Ask them about any legends referring to a te roa me te pūhihi tangata, see if there are any. Things like this don't just pop up overnight. If nothing else, I might be able to get a necklace or something blessed. Probably won't help, but it'll make me feel better.
Until then, just gonna keep listening to music. It's keeping me relatively sane.
I won't run from this. We all know you can't escape. I just hope I don't drag anyone I care about into this.
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