After several more hours idly waltzing around on the internet, I decided to return to my new Facebook page, to see if there was anything worth looking into. I first was assaulted by a hilariously high number of friend requests - I guess having the slender man as a Facebook friend would be interesting for people - though I ignored every last one of them.
However, after finishing that, I saw something which I would never have expected to see: I was a trending topic; the first one, in point of fact. I grew yet more terrified once I read the little description, which was telling everyone on Facebook that I was a career thief who was wanted by pretty much everyone.
Racing to Google, I entered the short, though incriminating, phrase "slender man stole," which provided one of the most potent scares I had ever experienced.
For staring me in the eyeless face, filling me with the utmost horror, was a link to this very blog as the top result of the search. Anyone with an internet connection could find this story, the one you are reading right now, and know exactly where I was and what I was doing and had done for the past weeks on the run.
I'm stopping this blog. I'll have to be getting a move on soon, though this one is to be permanent. I'm leaving this house. I thought it would be safer here, by running away, but everything's just gotten worse. As they say around here, tschüss.
Sunday 15 March 2015
Diabolus Volucres
I awoke after several hours to the sounds of strange, almost otherworldly birds chattering overhead. It took me but a second to figure out what those daemonic noises were, those eldritch birds which are of one mind. I bolted straight out of the dilapidated bed and attempted as best I could to cower under it, hoping that none of my spindly limbs would be visible to anyone who looked through the faintly smudged windows.
After what felt like hours, the distinctly not-birdlike screams subsided, and I, figuring it was safe, crawled out of hiding and continued to waste my days away browsing the internet.
Eventually I stumbled upon a website which had collected several of the works of the famed H.P. Lovecraft, and immediately began traipsing through the virtual book, looking for a pleasurable, serene story or several to read. However, being a collection of Lovecraft, I found nothing of the sort, though I was still quite enthralled by the poetic quality which pervaded the great author's work. After I finished a few of the stellar works, I left that website - after bookmarking it, of course - and continued on my internet odyssey.
After what felt like hours, the distinctly not-birdlike screams subsided, and I, figuring it was safe, crawled out of hiding and continued to waste my days away browsing the internet.
Eventually I stumbled upon a website which had collected several of the works of the famed H.P. Lovecraft, and immediately began traipsing through the virtual book, looking for a pleasurable, serene story or several to read. However, being a collection of Lovecraft, I found nothing of the sort, though I was still quite enthralled by the poetic quality which pervaded the great author's work. After I finished a few of the stellar works, I left that website - after bookmarking it, of course - and continued on my internet odyssey.
In Exercitatus Tribus
After having the most wonderful experience I could ever dream of, I decided to try and sleep for the night, as it was nearing 4 AM or so. However, my slumber was to be so rudely interrupted after mere moments had passed, when I heard an all-too-familiar clicking just inches from my faceless head.
Standing above me, once again, was, to my chagrin, Phil Collins.
"There's no escape now, guy," he threatened, preparing his pistol for the coming assault.
"Not bothering with the one-liner this time, are you?" I inquired, to which he nodded while barring his teeth and bracing for the coming expostulation from his weapon.
"Well," I continued before he could make the shot, "luckily for me, there's no jacket required here," to which he flinched, but still maintained his composure. "This is the world we live in, after all," I muttered, to his continued discomfort, "I just remembered, I didn't properly greet you. Hello, I must be going," at which he closed his eyes in tormented frustration.
Those couple of seconds proved to be all I needed to snatch the metal handgun from his grasp. Now armed, I in turn pointed the gun at him, almost taunting him to try and get it back.
"Now get out of here, punk, and don't come back, lest you want to feel the heat on the street." At that, he bolted out of the room, vowing to have his revenge against me.
"Completely delusional," I muttered to myself, before lying back in my cramped bed and returning to sleep for the waning hours of darkness.
Standing above me, once again, was, to my chagrin, Phil Collins.
"There's no escape now, guy," he threatened, preparing his pistol for the coming assault.
"Not bothering with the one-liner this time, are you?" I inquired, to which he nodded while barring his teeth and bracing for the coming expostulation from his weapon.
"Well," I continued before he could make the shot, "luckily for me, there's no jacket required here," to which he flinched, but still maintained his composure. "This is the world we live in, after all," I muttered, to his continued discomfort, "I just remembered, I didn't properly greet you. Hello, I must be going," at which he closed his eyes in tormented frustration.
Those couple of seconds proved to be all I needed to snatch the metal handgun from his grasp. Now armed, I in turn pointed the gun at him, almost taunting him to try and get it back.
"Now get out of here, punk, and don't come back, lest you want to feel the heat on the street." At that, he bolted out of the room, vowing to have his revenge against me.
"Completely delusional," I muttered to myself, before lying back in my cramped bed and returning to sleep for the waning hours of darkness.
Contrita Superbia
Browsing the internet for so long allows for many vast, strange opportunities for one such as I. After a few hours of idly scrolling, typing, and clicking, I noticed an advert from one Jordan Dooling, searching for voice actors for one of his innumerable projects, Topography Genera, I think it was.
"This laptop has a pretty decent microphone, I'd say. Perhaps I could audition for the part."
And with that, I downloaded the script he had available, and began reading over the highlighted dialogue, which I presumed would be mine. I found the text engaging, I have to say.
After several minutes of reading over the yellow blocks of text and getting a feel for the character, I pressed the record button and gave the work my all, hamming it up like no one could ever hope to match. I was quite proud of myself once I had delivered the final line, and I knew that I would be the one to work with the quite noteworthy author.
Unfortunately, there was too much distortion.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I bellowed at my laptop, before nearly breaking down into tears at my seemingly wasted effort. It was quite the crushing feeling to see my hard work crumbling down around me, kind of like a hunter who failed to land a fatal strike against their preferred target.
In an attempt to calm myself down, I decided to pirate a copy of the ever-stellar movie Frozen, which I had never seen up until then. I had heard the overwhelmingly positive reactions of nearly everyone to the movie, and so was excited to finally experience it for myself.
Needless to say, I was in nigh-uncontrollable tears at how such a perfect movie could have ever been made. And I loved every second of it.
Speculum
After sleeping for the night and browsing Facebook for several hours the following morning, I decided to stroll through the woods around me for a while. Emerging from the green door, I lethargically gazed around the room for any signs of an intruder. Not finding any, I turned and locked the door, then stepped out into the misty forest.
Picking an arbitrary direction to walk in, I began the lazy journey around my new home. The atmosphere around me proved to be quite pleasant, and I eventually stopped to lie on the ground and bask in the effervescent, almost surreal naturescape which surrounded me.
After close to an hour, however, I was greeted by a frightening sight, the likes of which I had never expected to see. The horror which stood before me was Der Großmann, the creature which was referenced in TribeTwelve, which was supposed to be just me.
I started up in a manic shock, for seeing a doppelgaenger of myself which was not a machination of my incantations should have been impossible.
"How are you a thing?" I implored my mirror-image. He did not reply, presumably because he cannot speak. I then heard his thoughts within my own mind, telling me to "fuck off, mate, as this is my forest."
I then impaled him with a slender-branch or several, until he moved no longer.
"What a pointless person," I muttered grimly to myself, before returning to my home and browsing the internet for the rest of the day.
Picking an arbitrary direction to walk in, I began the lazy journey around my new home. The atmosphere around me proved to be quite pleasant, and I eventually stopped to lie on the ground and bask in the effervescent, almost surreal naturescape which surrounded me.
After close to an hour, however, I was greeted by a frightening sight, the likes of which I had never expected to see. The horror which stood before me was Der Großmann, the creature which was referenced in TribeTwelve, which was supposed to be just me.
I started up in a manic shock, for seeing a doppelgaenger of myself which was not a machination of my incantations should have been impossible.
"How are you a thing?" I implored my mirror-image. He did not reply, presumably because he cannot speak. I then heard his thoughts within my own mind, telling me to "fuck off, mate, as this is my forest."
I then impaled him with a slender-branch or several, until he moved no longer.
"What a pointless person," I muttered grimly to myself, before returning to my home and browsing the internet for the rest of the day.
Saturday 14 March 2015
Inanis Est Domus
Now fully settled into this house - I found a key for the green door, as well as a generator for electricity - I figured I could return to Freiburg in search of another iPod and headphones. The journey was uneventful, luckily. However, I found that my proxy had vanished, and so I had no bearings of the town.
"No matter," I thought, "for surely any given house will have an iPod in it somewhere."
My search proved uneventful for several hours, for I could not find a house which was isolated enough to safely break in to. Then I remembered that I have a laptop, with WiFi, and music on it from the previous owner. And so I gave up the search and began the trek back to the house.
Once I was back in my safe-zone, I decided that I was going to idly browse YouTube for several hours, followed by getting a Facebook account, so that I could follow current events and whatnot.
"No matter," I thought, "for surely any given house will have an iPod in it somewhere."
My search proved uneventful for several hours, for I could not find a house which was isolated enough to safely break in to. Then I remembered that I have a laptop, with WiFi, and music on it from the previous owner. And so I gave up the search and began the trek back to the house.
Once I was back in my safe-zone, I decided that I was going to idly browse YouTube for several hours, followed by getting a Facebook account, so that I could follow current events and whatnot.
Alta Silvas
After several hours more of walking, I came upon an abandoned house, now quite deep in the woods. I entered the forsaken building with slight caution, for I knew not what may have dwelled inside.
Inside stood a barren room with a green door in the opposite wall. Figuring that the house had no current tenants, I drew myself inside and approached the sickly door. The door was not locked, and so I pushed it inward, revealing a bed coated with exotic flowers and a suicide shrine.
"This must be the abode of those cultists who travelled to Metz in pursuit of me," I reckoned. "Surely they'll be on their way back soon, unless my second proxy is still alive and drawing them further away," I pondered with a slight sense of relief.
At that, I made myself at home in this empty house.
Inside stood a barren room with a green door in the opposite wall. Figuring that the house had no current tenants, I drew myself inside and approached the sickly door. The door was not locked, and so I pushed it inward, revealing a bed coated with exotic flowers and a suicide shrine.
"This must be the abode of those cultists who travelled to Metz in pursuit of me," I reckoned. "Surely they'll be on their way back soon, unless my second proxy is still alive and drawing them further away," I pondered with a slight sense of relief.
At that, I made myself at home in this empty house.
Deus Mortem
Finally arriving in the Black Forest, I felt a strong sense of relief - I had finally found the best hiding place in the extreme game of eldritch hide-and-seek. Once deep enough into the woods for proper concealment, I slowed my stride to a snail's pace so that I could fully appreciate the magnificence of my new home.
However, I was interrupted after roughly half-an-hour, for, to my great dismay, my old nemesis, the gas-masked death-god, had stayed behind while his cultists searched in France.
"We meet again, old friend," he greeted me with sinister undertones in his voice.
I elected not to respond, for I had nothing to say to the mongrel which stood before me.
"Oh come now," he continued, "be a sport, man. It wasn't that long ago when we would hunt together in this grand game of Fear."
I was on the cusp of responding, when suddenly, and to the surprise of both of us, my morlock friends arose from the ground, and the Rake, my close friend, lunged forth and drew his claws at the angel in the gas mask's face. Within seconds, the hackneyed mask was decimated, and the fallen angel collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain.
"Impossible. You can't kill me; I'm fucking Death itself," he gasped in complete shock, before he drew his final breath.
"You just got Rake't, son," I said sharply and presently, to which the gathered morlocks nodded in frank approval.
"Clever, bro," the Rake called out to me. "Unfortunately, we have to leave again, for the sounds of our digging will doubtless call great attention to this area."
And at that, the morlocks returned into their tunnels, while I drew further into the foreverdark woods.
However, I was interrupted after roughly half-an-hour, for, to my great dismay, my old nemesis, the gas-masked death-god, had stayed behind while his cultists searched in France.
"We meet again, old friend," he greeted me with sinister undertones in his voice.
I elected not to respond, for I had nothing to say to the mongrel which stood before me.
"Oh come now," he continued, "be a sport, man. It wasn't that long ago when we would hunt together in this grand game of Fear."
I was on the cusp of responding, when suddenly, and to the surprise of both of us, my morlock friends arose from the ground, and the Rake, my close friend, lunged forth and drew his claws at the angel in the gas mask's face. Within seconds, the hackneyed mask was decimated, and the fallen angel collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain.
"Impossible. You can't kill me; I'm fucking Death itself," he gasped in complete shock, before he drew his final breath.
"You just got Rake't, son," I said sharply and presently, to which the gathered morlocks nodded in frank approval.
"Clever, bro," the Rake called out to me. "Unfortunately, we have to leave again, for the sounds of our digging will doubtless call great attention to this area."
And at that, the morlocks returned into their tunnels, while I drew further into the foreverdark woods.
Ad Germaniam Duo
The drive from Metz was uneventful, near as I could tell from the trunk. It took only a few more hours to arrive in Offenburg, Germany, from which I could continue directly to Freiburg and into the Black Forest.
The drive from Offenburg to Freiburg was rather short - only around forty-five minutes, to my relief; my eldritch road trip was beginning to wear me down. Once we had arrived, I ordered my driver-proxy to hide the car somewhere in town while I began my journey into my new dwelling.
I attempted to contact my second proxy, but I could not reach him; I was not worried, though, for he had done his job admirably, and I could almost feel the presence of Fear diminishing around me to the west.
The drive from Offenburg to Freiburg was rather short - only around forty-five minutes, to my relief; my eldritch road trip was beginning to wear me down. Once we had arrived, I ordered my driver-proxy to hide the car somewhere in town while I began my journey into my new dwelling.
I attempted to contact my second proxy, but I could not reach him; I was not worried, though, for he had done his job admirably, and I could almost feel the presence of Fear diminishing around me to the west.
Via Trinus Deorum Sexcenta
Riding in the trunk of a car for several hours proved to be slightly uncomfortable for someone of my height, if you can believe that. Nevertheless, we arrived in Metz, where I communicated with my second proxy to see where he was on his journey to Spain.
He had arrived in Paris slightly before we arrived in Metz, and so had all ready started to tell of his fictitious slender-sightings, which would hopefully prove useful in drawing my eldritch hunters away from my destination.
Once I knew of my second proxy's journey, I disembarked from the trunk and into the night streets of Metz in search of a nice meal, for I had not eaten in quite a while.
However, at a likely looking cafe, I beheld a gathering of cultists who had, I overheard, travelled from the Black Forest and into France, after hearing about my duel back in Laon.
"Good, that means that there probably aren't any more of my pursuers in the Black Forest," I mused silently, before simply returning to the car and continuing on my journey.
He had arrived in Paris slightly before we arrived in Metz, and so had all ready started to tell of his fictitious slender-sightings, which would hopefully prove useful in drawing my eldritch hunters away from my destination.
Once I knew of my second proxy's journey, I disembarked from the trunk and into the night streets of Metz in search of a nice meal, for I had not eaten in quite a while.
However, at a likely looking cafe, I beheld a gathering of cultists who had, I overheard, travelled from the Black Forest and into France, after hearing about my duel back in Laon.
"Good, that means that there probably aren't any more of my pursuers in the Black Forest," I mused silently, before simply returning to the car and continuing on my journey.
Friday 13 March 2015
Via Trinus Deorum Quinque
Having survived the duel, I turned back to my car and continued on my journey. However, upon returning to my vehicle, I saw that the sunroof was shattered and there was a really obvious tracking device under the steering wheel.
"I would've figured that our duel was just a distraction," I muttered grimly to myself. "Luckily, there's no shortage of vehicles about, so I can just get another one."
Needless to say, after the blatant murder in the middle of a street, there was no shortage of frightened people running for the cover of their vehicles. I followed one of them, and, upon reaching their vehicle, used a branch to open the trunk, whereupon I clambered in, closed the trunk, and uttered another invocation to make the driver a proxy.
Now with a thrall, I commanded them to take me to Metz, the next city on the path to the Black Forest. I figured that I wouldn't have to continue leading my eldritch pursuers away from Germany, since I could go anywhere from Laon, but I decided to, with another invocation, create another proxy, who would go to Spain through Paris, telling people that they saw me all throughout their journey.
"I would've figured that our duel was just a distraction," I muttered grimly to myself. "Luckily, there's no shortage of vehicles about, so I can just get another one."
Needless to say, after the blatant murder in the middle of a street, there was no shortage of frightened people running for the cover of their vehicles. I followed one of them, and, upon reaching their vehicle, used a branch to open the trunk, whereupon I clambered in, closed the trunk, and uttered another invocation to make the driver a proxy.
Now with a thrall, I commanded them to take me to Metz, the next city on the path to the Black Forest. I figured that I wouldn't have to continue leading my eldritch pursuers away from Germany, since I could go anywhere from Laon, but I decided to, with another invocation, create another proxy, who would go to Spain through Paris, telling people that they saw me all throughout their journey.
In Exercitatus Duo
After standing in the middle of a crowded street for several seconds, I heard a voice call out to me from just down the street. It was a cultist, who challenged me to a one-on-one duel in the middle of the street.
Shortly thereafter, we stood back-to-back, when he produced two pistols, handed one to me, and told me to prepare myself.
"Take ten steps, then, on the count of three, turn and we'll see who's the better marksman," he explained to me.
We took our places, and he began the countdown.
"One.
"Two."
"Wait, wait," I called, "is it on the three, or the 'go' after the three?"
He sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes.
"The 'go' after the three," and he restarted the countdown.
"One.
"Two.
"Three.
"Go," he shouted, and we both turned to face each other.
He shot first, hitting me in my right shoulder, thinking it would disable my gun hand. Little did he know, though, that I am actually left-handed, so I could still fire my weapon.
My shot pierced his skull right between the eyes. He collapsed, and I twirled my pistol around my trigger finger and blew the smoke off of the barrel.
Shortly thereafter, we stood back-to-back, when he produced two pistols, handed one to me, and told me to prepare myself.
"Take ten steps, then, on the count of three, turn and we'll see who's the better marksman," he explained to me.
We took our places, and he began the countdown.
"One.
"Two."
"Wait, wait," I called, "is it on the three, or the 'go' after the three?"
He sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes.
"The 'go' after the three," and he restarted the countdown.
"One.
"Two.
"Three.
"Go," he shouted, and we both turned to face each other.
He shot first, hitting me in my right shoulder, thinking it would disable my gun hand. Little did he know, though, that I am actually left-handed, so I could still fire my weapon.
My shot pierced his skull right between the eyes. He collapsed, and I twirled my pistol around my trigger finger and blew the smoke off of the barrel.
Ad Franciae
Unfortunately, my doppelgaenger antics proved to be slightly less than sufficient, as, in the side mirrors, I saw one of the cultists turning around following my car with his eyes. I was unsure if he had figured out that it was me, so, with another slender-invocation, I conjured another cloud of branches from the location of my clone to assail the gathered servants of Fear.
It was quite amusing to witness the ensuing chaos in my mirrors, though it almost proved problematic, also, as I was quite close to wrecking my car on another while I was entranced by my handiwork against my pursuers.
Eventually I crossed the border into France, whereupon I, after a couple of hours, arrived in the town of Laon. I was greeted by a peculiar sight shortly thereafter, though.
I saw, spray-painted on a wall, "Draw a stairway for my God to spite the sofa of my faith."
"What does that even mean?" I questioned perplexedly, before noting the similarity to a misheard Dream Theater lyric.
Unable to locate any pursuing cultists or Camper puppets, I decided that I could safely make an appearance here, too, to further obfuscate my path.
It was quite amusing to witness the ensuing chaos in my mirrors, though it almost proved problematic, also, as I was quite close to wrecking my car on another while I was entranced by my handiwork against my pursuers.
Eventually I crossed the border into France, whereupon I, after a couple of hours, arrived in the town of Laon. I was greeted by a peculiar sight shortly thereafter, though.
I saw, spray-painted on a wall, "Draw a stairway for my God to spite the sofa of my faith."
"What does that even mean?" I questioned perplexedly, before noting the similarity to a misheard Dream Theater lyric.
Unable to locate any pursuing cultists or Camper puppets, I decided that I could safely make an appearance here, too, to further obfuscate my path.
Via Trinus Deorum Quattuor
After another few hours' drive, I arrived in the town of Mons, close to the French border. I figured that I could make another conspicuous appearance in town somewhere, but I soon saw, to my horror, that cultists and Camper puppets had arrived in town ahead of me.
"Fuck me," I thought, "they must have figured out my plan, and are probably in the Black Forest right now." I lamented this potentially disastrous turn of events, but I knew I was in too deep to abandon this plan.
"Perhaps I can still work with the present situation and salvage my plan," I figured, "for the Black Forest isn't exactly a small place; I can hide anywhere in there and remain undetected for years."
Thinking fast, I uttered a short invocation, creating a doppelgaenger down the street from the Fear-mob, drawing their attention away from my actual location. Once they were of an acceptable distance from me, I continued on my journey to France.
"Fuck me," I thought, "they must have figured out my plan, and are probably in the Black Forest right now." I lamented this potentially disastrous turn of events, but I knew I was in too deep to abandon this plan.
"Perhaps I can still work with the present situation and salvage my plan," I figured, "for the Black Forest isn't exactly a small place; I can hide anywhere in there and remain undetected for years."
Thinking fast, I uttered a short invocation, creating a doppelgaenger down the street from the Fear-mob, drawing their attention away from my actual location. Once they were of an acceptable distance from me, I continued on my journey to France.
Via Trinus Deorum Tribus
Now with a more local car, I continued the journey through Belgium with relative ease. I did see a few cultists about, though, but, with my new vehicle, they did not make me a target.
After several more hours on the road, I arrived in Brussels, where I stopped once again for gas, as my car was dangerously close to empty from the journey. I almost expected Phil Collins to accost me once again, but he was nowhere to be found, to my relief.
"Surprising," I thought to myself, "for surely he would have followed me in a shocked rage after I so effortlessly decimated his attempt at a one-liner.
"Perhaps he is indeed following me, but maintaining a distance so as to not blow his cover," I then thought, my mind becoming increasingly frantic and paranoid.
"Maybe he's working with the Fears," my mind convinced me, and with that I returned to my car and hastily drove away and into immense traffic, so that I could not be followed.
"Surprising," I thought to myself, "for surely he would have followed me in a shocked rage after I so effortlessly decimated his attempt at a one-liner.
"Perhaps he is indeed following me, but maintaining a distance so as to not blow his cover," I then thought, my mind becoming increasingly frantic and paranoid.
"Maybe he's working with the Fears," my mind convinced me, and with that I returned to my car and hastily drove away and into immense traffic, so that I could not be followed.
Thursday 12 March 2015
Ad Belgia
Duisburg was my next destination, as it was close enough to Münster to continue to draw the chase in this direction while also far enough away for me to have enough time to cause another uproar, for the Fears would surely have arrived at the scene to investigate. Once again, I exited my vehicle and stood in the middle of a crowded street, once again setting the town ablaze with news of my appearance, knowing that this trend would never go unnoticed.
Moving on, I continued my sojourn until I eventually crossed into Belgium. Now out of Germany for a while, I abandoned my car for the last time, but not before writing the names of each city I would need to travel to - in case the car I acquired lacked a GPS system - on my way back to Germany, noting in which ones I would need to provide a distraction for my pursuers.
Now at a bar, I waited for a drunkard to stumble out of the door on their way to a vehicle, where I offered to aid them on their way. Of course, since they were much too drunk to comprehend their circumstances, I remained undetected, allowing me to just make off with their vehicle's keys once I knew which one was theirs.
Moving on, I continued my sojourn until I eventually crossed into Belgium. Now out of Germany for a while, I abandoned my car for the last time, but not before writing the names of each city I would need to travel to - in case the car I acquired lacked a GPS system - on my way back to Germany, noting in which ones I would need to provide a distraction for my pursuers.
Now at a bar, I waited for a drunkard to stumble out of the door on their way to a vehicle, where I offered to aid them on their way. Of course, since they were much too drunk to comprehend their circumstances, I remained undetected, allowing me to just make off with their vehicle's keys once I knew which one was theirs.
Via Trinus Deorum Duo
Arriving in the city of Münster, I figured that I should obtain a new vehicle, as a Swedish car would be incredibly conspicuous, especially to my eldritch hunters. However, I figured that I could wait until I got to Belgium to get a different car, as I wasn't too far off.
Before I left Münster, though, I made sure to get out of the car and stand on a really crowded street, so that everyone there would see me, causing a large enough panic to draw the Fears in this direction.
Now that the city was ablaze with the news of a slender-sighting, I returned to my car and continued on my journey to Belgium.
Before I left Münster, though, I made sure to get out of the car and stand on a really crowded street, so that everyone there would see me, causing a large enough panic to draw the Fears in this direction.
Now that the city was ablaze with the news of a slender-sighting, I returned to my car and continued on my journey to Belgium.
Via Trinus Deorum Unum
Having lost the mob of hunters on the chase, I stopped in Bremen both to get more gas and to figure out the best route to lead any pursuers away from the Black Forest.
Eventually I came to the conclusion that the best ways to go would either be to go through Poland and the Czech Republic in order to get to southern Germany, or the more sensible plan of going through Belgium and France on my way to southern Germany.
I also needed to contrive a way to make it appear that I would be travelling farther west than I planned, to make it seem as I was going to either Paris, somewhere in Spain, or even to Portugal. Eventually I came to the conclusion that I could make several really obvious appearances en route to France which would suggest that that was the direction I was running in, while then disappearing and journeying instead back into Germany.
Once the car was filled again, I wasted no time in beginning the journey to Belgium.
Ad Germaniam Unum
After a pretty uneventful drive, I eventually made it to the border of Denmark and Germany. I had a lingering feeling, though, that Phil would begin in pursuit at some point soon, though I ignored it and carried on; I could throw more Genesis lyrics at him if he tried to attack me again, after all, or even hit him where it hurts by countering him with lyrics from his solo career.
At the border, however, is where everything went bottoms-up for me, for at the border was a horde of Camper puppets augmented by cultists, the likes of which I had never seen nor hoped to encounter.
"The ones back in Sweden must have figured out that it was me they saw," I lamented, hoping that they would not make me again.
Long story short, they did.
The resulting car chase was on a scale that would make The Blues Brothers proud, with my one car pursued by wave upon waves of adversaries. Except my car chase was, I dare say, even more wild and reckless, for we were on the German Autobahn, and so mingled and weaved through crowds of other drivers also going at absurd speeds.
However, I was unafraid to take great risks, even amidst waves of hilariously fast drivers.
With a quick invocation, I summoned a storm of slender-branches and lashed upon my enemies' vehicles, all while retreating to the right-most lane and going at around the speed limit of the American highways which I had travelled previously.
Needless to say, the Autobahn dissolved into chaos, providing me with ample cover to sneak through Hamburg on the way to Bremen.
In Exercitatus Unum
Once the pump had finished and I replaced it in its original position, I turned to see a fist speedily approaching my lack-of-face at an alarming velocity.
I felt the impact, and, since I was caught off guard, staggered and nearly fell to my knees.
"Well, look who it is," a familiar voice said in a somewhat threatening tone.
I looked up to see Phil Collins standing over me with a pistol drawn.
"This time you can't get away," he continued, "for I have special silver bullets, except made out of eldritch instead of silver."
"Isn't eldritch just a descriptor of an incomprehensible object or creature, and not a type of physical material?" I countered, calling his bluff.
"Shut your face, is what it is," he retorted.
Now standing at my full height, I stared into his eyes while he prepared his pistol for the coming bloody rapport.
"I don't talk round corners, right between the eyes. I walk a straight line, right between the eyes," he said, taunting me.
"Yeah, well joke's on you; I have no eyes," I replied, feeling extreme pride.
With that, he dropped his gun, stuttering, failing to produce comprehensible words.
"I have to go now, for supper's ready," I taunted, and at that he fell to his knees in a paralysis of mind-numbing shock.
And with that, I continued on my journey to the German border.
I felt the impact, and, since I was caught off guard, staggered and nearly fell to my knees.
"Well, look who it is," a familiar voice said in a somewhat threatening tone.
I looked up to see Phil Collins standing over me with a pistol drawn.
"This time you can't get away," he continued, "for I have special silver bullets, except made out of eldritch instead of silver."
"Isn't eldritch just a descriptor of an incomprehensible object or creature, and not a type of physical material?" I countered, calling his bluff.
"Shut your face, is what it is," he retorted.
Now standing at my full height, I stared into his eyes while he prepared his pistol for the coming bloody rapport.
"I don't talk round corners, right between the eyes. I walk a straight line, right between the eyes," he said, taunting me.
"Yeah, well joke's on you; I have no eyes," I replied, feeling extreme pride.
With that, he dropped his gun, stuttering, failing to produce comprehensible words.
"I have to go now, for supper's ready," I taunted, and at that he fell to his knees in a paralysis of mind-numbing shock.
And with that, I continued on my journey to the German border.
Wednesday 11 March 2015
Iter ad Mare
The drive towards Copenhagen proved to be pretty uneventful. The roads were quiet, and, once the sun started to rise, the scenery proved to be quite beautiful. After about five hours, I found myself at the coast, ready to cross the bridge from Sweden and into Denmark.
However, to my shock, I beheld the forms of several Camper puppets as I approached the bridge. I think one of them might have seen me, or at least seen a suited man wearing a fedora, but, since none of them tried to follow me, I think it's a safe assumption that they did not identify me as the slender man, luckily.
Once I was across the bridge and finally in Denmark, I found my car to be nearly completely devoid of fuel, so I had to stop for gas. Luckily for me, the previous owner of this car had left quite a lot of money in the door-compartment, so I could pay for probably the entire drive to the Black Forest.
However, to my shock, I beheld the forms of several Camper puppets as I approached the bridge. I think one of them might have seen me, or at least seen a suited man wearing a fedora, but, since none of them tried to follow me, I think it's a safe assumption that they did not identify me as the slender man, luckily.
Once I was across the bridge and finally in Denmark, I found my car to be nearly completely devoid of fuel, so I had to stop for gas. Luckily for me, the previous owner of this car had left quite a lot of money in the door-compartment, so I could pay for probably the entire drive to the Black Forest.
Adventus in Europa
Seeing a town far ahead of me, I glided towards it as fast as my spindly legs would take me. However, once I was roughly halfway to my destination, I found out, to my horror, that I had lost my iPod and Beats.
"Is it really worth going all the way back to look?" I wondered. "I think I left them in my car, so there's no way I can get to them anyway."
I was greatly disappointed, but I carried on anyway; I could find another iPod, I figured, as well as more Beats, if I so desired.
Eventually I arrived at the town, which turned out to be Kristinehamn, in Sweden.
"Not a problem," I figured, "I can get to Copenhagen from here, and to Germany from there without any trouble."
I, once again, found myself in need of a vehicle, so I found a bar, waited outside for night to fully set, and 'borrowed' a car from a patron who was much too drunk to drive. Luckily for me, the car had a GPS built in to it, so I could navigate to the Black Forest without need of an iPod or WiFi.
"Is it really worth going all the way back to look?" I wondered. "I think I left them in my car, so there's no way I can get to them anyway."
I was greatly disappointed, but I carried on anyway; I could find another iPod, I figured, as well as more Beats, if I so desired.
Eventually I arrived at the town, which turned out to be Kristinehamn, in Sweden.
"Not a problem," I figured, "I can get to Copenhagen from here, and to Germany from there without any trouble."
I, once again, found myself in need of a vehicle, so I found a bar, waited outside for night to fully set, and 'borrowed' a car from a patron who was much too drunk to drive. Luckily for me, the car had a GPS built in to it, so I could navigate to the Black Forest without need of an iPod or WiFi.
Iter ad Europam Tribus
The drive proved uneventful, as the cultist was not actually following me. After a while of scenic Icelandic countryside at night, I reached the airport, though I couldn't go in through the front door; I would surely have been detected.
The only logical plan was to vault over the fence and onto the runway, where I would find a plane which was heading to somewhere in Norway, preferably Oslo.
Unfortunately, I couldn't actually tell where each plane was going from the outside, so I had to just guess and get really lucky. I made my guess, climbed up the conveyor belt and into the cargo hold of my chosen plane, and hoped for the best.
After almost two hours fifteen of flight, the plane suddenly and sharply descended, and I braced myself for an imminent crash. The seconds wore by incredibly slowly, until the plane impacted the ground and slowed to a halt.
After several hours, when I was certain that everyone had dispersed from the wreck-site, I found my way out of the corpse of the plane and attempted to ascertain where I was.
The only logical plan was to vault over the fence and onto the runway, where I would find a plane which was heading to somewhere in Norway, preferably Oslo.
Unfortunately, I couldn't actually tell where each plane was going from the outside, so I had to just guess and get really lucky. I made my guess, climbed up the conveyor belt and into the cargo hold of my chosen plane, and hoped for the best.
After almost two hours fifteen of flight, the plane suddenly and sharply descended, and I braced myself for an imminent crash. The seconds wore by incredibly slowly, until the plane impacted the ground and slowed to a halt.
After several hours, when I was certain that everyone had dispersed from the wreck-site, I found my way out of the corpse of the plane and attempted to ascertain where I was.
Iter ad Europam Duo
Sneaking into the bar, while I was unable to actually speak to anyone, I was able to find the password to the bar's WiFi network, as well as a cable to charge my iPod with, since my old one worked only for American outlets.
I figured out that I was about a half-hour away from the nearest airport by vehicle, so I decided to look for a suitable car to commandeer, as was tradition by this point.
After about an hour of looking, I found a car which could hold my tall form. It was behind another store, so it would prove easy for me to accost the driver when they returned to their vehicle.
As I emerged from the back-alley, I saw behind me the cultists from the night prior, and, hoping they didn't notice me, drove as calmly as possible. I don't think that they knew for sure if it was me who they saw, but one of them started to follow my car; I suppose they thought that I was suspicious-looking enough to warrant observation.
I figured out that I was about a half-hour away from the nearest airport by vehicle, so I decided to look for a suitable car to commandeer, as was tradition by this point.
After about an hour of looking, I found a car which could hold my tall form. It was behind another store, so it would prove easy for me to accost the driver when they returned to their vehicle.
As I emerged from the back-alley, I saw behind me the cultists from the night prior, and, hoping they didn't notice me, drove as calmly as possible. I don't think that they knew for sure if it was me who they saw, but one of them started to follow my car; I suppose they thought that I was suspicious-looking enough to warrant observation.
Iter ad Europam Unum
Once I awoke, the cultists had dispersed, presumably in search of me. I didn't let them find me, though; I took to the rooftops, where no cultists tried to search.
I figured that the best course of action would be to find an airport and fly to Norway. However, I had no idea exactly where I was in Iceland, so I could not figure out in which direction the nearest airport would be.
"Perhaps the best course of action would be to find a bar or something similar, where no one would question if someone looked faceless, as a place to find directions," I said to myself, before remembering that I have a device capable of navigating over WiFi.
Of course, in order to navigate by way of WiFi, one needs access to WiFi, of which I could not find any, to my chagrin.
"Fuck, it looks like the bar plan is my only option now," I mumbled, exasperated.
Luckily for me there was a bar just down the street from where I was. However, since I was still wandering on the roofs of the various buildings, I would have to find a way back down once I got there. Another sweet parkour wall-jump was all it took, and I was back on the streets and ready for a drink or two.
However, the bouncer was not impressed by my suit and hat, and so he threw me back onto the street.
"What the hell, man?" I said at almost a yell. I then figured out that, being in Iceland and all, most people speak Icelandic, and not English. Needless to say, I could not speak to the man, or probably anyone inside.
"Perhaps the best course of action would be to find a bar or something similar, where no one would question if someone looked faceless, as a place to find directions," I said to myself, before remembering that I have a device capable of navigating over WiFi.
Of course, in order to navigate by way of WiFi, one needs access to WiFi, of which I could not find any, to my chagrin.
"Fuck, it looks like the bar plan is my only option now," I mumbled, exasperated.
Luckily for me there was a bar just down the street from where I was. However, since I was still wandering on the roofs of the various buildings, I would have to find a way back down once I got there. Another sweet parkour wall-jump was all it took, and I was back on the streets and ready for a drink or two.
However, the bouncer was not impressed by my suit and hat, and so he threw me back onto the street.
"What the hell, man?" I said at almost a yell. I then figured out that, being in Iceland and all, most people speak Icelandic, and not English. Needless to say, I could not speak to the man, or probably anyone inside.
Tuesday 10 March 2015
Non Amplius in Naviculam
I awoke to my iPod being fully charged and the boat drifting to a halt. Gazing out of my window, I beheld a port town and heard the commotion of a boat preparing to unpack. Seizing my iPod and cable, I placed both inside my box and sealed myself in once again.
After roughly fifteen minutes, my box was removed from the cargo hold and, after another few minutes, placed on the dock amidst several other boxes. I swiftly emerged from the box, as the commotion of a ship transferring its cargo provided a lot of noise to cover my exit from the crate and my subsequent escape into the dark streets of a cold Icelandic night.
To my horror, I, after several minutes of drifting through the dim streets, heard the chants of a group of cultists. Listening closer, I knew almost immediately that these cultists were of the same group which pursued me on my way to board my ship.
"I think they might have sent cultists to every destination for every ship leaving port," I mused silently, "that's the only explanation as to why they would be so close to the port.
"Also, why didn't I think to bring a heavier coat, seeing as how I'm in Iceland and all?" I chided.
Leaning around a corner and looking into an alleyway, I saw a gathering of about six cultists partaking in some sort of ritual. Meanwhile, behind me, I heard shouting about how one of the shipping crates was wide open and devoid of all contents.
"Well, isn't that just great," I groaned. "Now I'm being pursued on both sides."
Thinking quickly, I slid into the alleyway, for none of the cultists were looking out into the street, and, seeing an old fire escape, started to run, doing a rad parkour wall-jump onto the fire escape with as little noise as possible. I then decided to fall asleep, since, wearing a black suit on black metal, I figured that I would blend in well enough to anyone looking from above and below.
After roughly fifteen minutes, my box was removed from the cargo hold and, after another few minutes, placed on the dock amidst several other boxes. I swiftly emerged from the box, as the commotion of a ship transferring its cargo provided a lot of noise to cover my exit from the crate and my subsequent escape into the dark streets of a cold Icelandic night.
To my horror, I, after several minutes of drifting through the dim streets, heard the chants of a group of cultists. Listening closer, I knew almost immediately that these cultists were of the same group which pursued me on my way to board my ship.
"I think they might have sent cultists to every destination for every ship leaving port," I mused silently, "that's the only explanation as to why they would be so close to the port.
"Also, why didn't I think to bring a heavier coat, seeing as how I'm in Iceland and all?" I chided.
Leaning around a corner and looking into an alleyway, I saw a gathering of about six cultists partaking in some sort of ritual. Meanwhile, behind me, I heard shouting about how one of the shipping crates was wide open and devoid of all contents.
"Well, isn't that just great," I groaned. "Now I'm being pursued on both sides."
Thinking quickly, I slid into the alleyway, for none of the cultists were looking out into the street, and, seeing an old fire escape, started to run, doing a rad parkour wall-jump onto the fire escape with as little noise as possible. I then decided to fall asleep, since, wearing a black suit on black metal, I figured that I would blend in well enough to anyone looking from above and below.
In Naviculam Quattuor
I was forced to leave my crate after what felt like another day or two. Imagine that, the slender man was forced out of his cover. What eldritch terror could have possibly forced me out of my hiding place, one might wonder?
The worst one of all: My iPod ran out of battery.
Luckily for me, the room was now a bit easier to navigate, since the crates had been rearranged previously, so I had a direct line to the door into the hallway. I ascended from my tiny domicile and prepared for my sojourn into the bowels of the ship.
On my way to the door, I noticed a power source on the wall near my designated crate, which must have become visible after the shift in the room's layout.
"Brilliant; I can safely charge my iPod in here," I whispered to myself.
The hallway appeared clear of people, so I slunk out into the metal corridor, dashing to the nearest room further down the hall, as it would provide some cover for me.
Arriving at the next door down, I beheld empty bunks suspended from the walls, on one of which was a prominent white cable which appeared to fit an iPod of my particular model. I crept across the room, so as to not wake anyone who might be napping in the middle of the day, and removed the cord from the wall, now ready to return to my haven on this hostile ship.
As I approached my quarters, I heard footsteps on the staircase at the end of the hall, and, hastening my journey, dove into the cargo room, somersaulted to the base of the haphazard pile of crates, jumped up, did a flip, and landed at the open crate in which I slept. The footfall grew louder and quieter as the sailors passed by my room.
I plugged in the iPod and took another nap.
In Naviculam Tribus
Eventually the storm passed us by, and I was able to return to a state of unconsciousness. However, it would not last, as I was awoken by the loud thudding of shipping crates being moved.
"Fuck, there's people in here with me," I said in a mildly loud voice, for the noise of the boxes hitting and scraping against each other drowned out that of my speech. Without missing a beat, I retrieved the lid of my home-crate and replaced it atop the opening.
Once I was safely concealed from view, I simply waited for whatever commotion was occurring to cease, so that I could safely return to sleep for a while.
"Why didn't I sneak into an airport and onto a plane?" I lamented silently, "That would have been much faster and probably a bit more comfortable."
Eventually I lost track of time entirely, only determining how close to my destination I was by feeling the temperature drop.
"Fuck, there's people in here with me," I said in a mildly loud voice, for the noise of the boxes hitting and scraping against each other drowned out that of my speech. Without missing a beat, I retrieved the lid of my home-crate and replaced it atop the opening.
Once I was safely concealed from view, I simply waited for whatever commotion was occurring to cease, so that I could safely return to sleep for a while.
"Why didn't I sneak into an airport and onto a plane?" I lamented silently, "That would have been much faster and probably a bit more comfortable."
Eventually I lost track of time entirely, only determining how close to my destination I was by feeling the temperature drop.
In Naviculam Duo
Sitting in a box for several hours is not as thrilling as one would expect, so I drifted off to sleep after a while. I actually, to my surprise, had a dream for once, though it was rather inconsequential, really. All that happened in it was that I was walking through the woods. Riveting cinema, I know.
What was more shocking, though, was when a storm started brewing over the seas, and the boat shook and shuddered as the waves battered the steel hull. Outside I heard a scream, as I turned and saw a sailor fall into the ocean just outside my window.
"So much for an uneventful journey to Europe," I thought, as I attempted to return to sleep for a while longer. The impact of the stormy conditions upon the boat, however, prevented me from achieving the lack of consciousness I so desired.
What was more shocking, though, was when a storm started brewing over the seas, and the boat shook and shuddered as the waves battered the steel hull. Outside I heard a scream, as I turned and saw a sailor fall into the ocean just outside my window.
"So much for an uneventful journey to Europe," I thought, as I attempted to return to sleep for a while longer. The impact of the stormy conditions upon the boat, however, prevented me from achieving the lack of consciousness I so desired.
In Naviculam Unum
Once I awoke from my glorious nap, I decided to open my box and stretch my overly long legs. Pressing up against the lid of my wooded enclosure, I found that it took a significant effort - much more than I thought it would - to open, but I eventually succeeded in freeing myself.
"I hope I won't have to return to this spot very much to avoid detection," I muttered to myself. As I peered through the new, upward opening, I discovered that I had little room to move about among the rest of the shipping crates, for they created a veritable maze, much narrower than it had any right to be, really.
I then figured that it shouldn't be too much of a problem, remembering how I made it through a pet door into a house. Squeezing through the gaps in the stacked boxes, I eventually found the doorway out of what would surely be my abode for the journey. Fortunately, there was a box on either side of the door frame, so I could safely hide whilst determining if there was anyone in the hallway outside of the cargo room.
There was a crowd outside, to my dismay, so I retreated back to my box and put my iPod back on for several hours.
"I hope I won't have to return to this spot very much to avoid detection," I muttered to myself. As I peered through the new, upward opening, I discovered that I had little room to move about among the rest of the shipping crates, for they created a veritable maze, much narrower than it had any right to be, really.
I then figured that it shouldn't be too much of a problem, remembering how I made it through a pet door into a house. Squeezing through the gaps in the stacked boxes, I eventually found the doorway out of what would surely be my abode for the journey. Fortunately, there was a box on either side of the door frame, so I could safely hide whilst determining if there was anyone in the hallway outside of the cargo room.
There was a crowd outside, to my dismay, so I retreated back to my box and put my iPod back on for several hours.
Monday 9 March 2015
In Desperationem Tacita
Now without a vehicle, I vanished into the dark woods which flank both sides of the highway, continuing on in the same direction as best I could. As I traipsed through the trees, I ditched my helmet and replaced it with my much-preferred fedora, and also put my iPod on, selecting the penultimate album of a band which I had never heard of: Bathory. The album was called Nordland 1, which I presumed to be part of a series, though I was slightly disappointed that there was only one more in the saga.
After about an hour of walking, I came upon a small motel, which was sparsely occupied, which I welcomed - less chance of detection, after all.
I had to wait until morning in order to be able to devise a means of transport for the rest of the way. As I approached a vehicle which appeared large enough for me to fit comfortably in, I was suddenly overcome with a great force as I felt metal swiftly pushing itself against my body.
I was run over by a car. Reminded me of the time when one of my friends was hit by a guy with a strange name - Billy Everyblogger, I seem to recall. Nevertheless, I continued on to my desired vehicle, hotwired it, and continued on my journey.
The guy who so uncourteously slammed into me was going in the same direction, and I thought it would be funny to make it appear like I was chasing him. He got really frightened and ended up just pulling over while I sped past him. It was a good laugh, I have to admit.
At dawn I arrived at the port city, where I stashed the car in an alleyway for later use, if I so needed. After several hours of wandering the streets, stopping in shops, getting a meal and whatnot - just being a tourist, really - I eventually found my way to a dock, where, to my ire, the only ship going to Europe was going to Iceland, so I would have to find another way to Germany once I disembarked from the vessel.
"Oh well, better Iceland than being stuck in America," I mused silently. I looked for a way to sneak aboard the ship, when I saw an empty crate which looked like it might be packed on the ship, so I, when no one was looking, packed myself into the wooden box and replaced the lid on the top. After several minutes' wait, I was finally lifted onto the ship and wheeled into a cargo hold. Before emerging from the box, I had a nap for several hours, which felt quite refreshing.
After about an hour of walking, I came upon a small motel, which was sparsely occupied, which I welcomed - less chance of detection, after all.
I had to wait until morning in order to be able to devise a means of transport for the rest of the way. As I approached a vehicle which appeared large enough for me to fit comfortably in, I was suddenly overcome with a great force as I felt metal swiftly pushing itself against my body.
I was run over by a car. Reminded me of the time when one of my friends was hit by a guy with a strange name - Billy Everyblogger, I seem to recall. Nevertheless, I continued on to my desired vehicle, hotwired it, and continued on my journey.
The guy who so uncourteously slammed into me was going in the same direction, and I thought it would be funny to make it appear like I was chasing him. He got really frightened and ended up just pulling over while I sped past him. It was a good laugh, I have to admit.
At dawn I arrived at the port city, where I stashed the car in an alleyway for later use, if I so needed. After several hours of wandering the streets, stopping in shops, getting a meal and whatnot - just being a tourist, really - I eventually found my way to a dock, where, to my ire, the only ship going to Europe was going to Iceland, so I would have to find another way to Germany once I disembarked from the vessel.
"Oh well, better Iceland than being stuck in America," I mused silently. I looked for a way to sneak aboard the ship, when I saw an empty crate which looked like it might be packed on the ship, so I, when no one was looking, packed myself into the wooden box and replaced the lid on the top. After several minutes' wait, I was finally lifted onto the ship and wheeled into a cargo hold. Before emerging from the box, I had a nap for several hours, which felt quite refreshing.
Venandi
Now that I knew where I needed to go to hide, I figured that the best way to get there would be to travel southeast several hundreds of miles to the nearest port town to me, though I had no intention of walking the whole way there.
Waiting until nightfall, I figured that the best way to get to where I needed to go was to commandeer a motorcycle and drive on the highways, like some sort of outlaw biker.
Luckily, there was a solitary man on a motorcycle just across the street at a gas station, who would prove an easy target for me. Stealthily prowling across the street, I waited for him to move behind the building and to get as close as possible to his vehicle, when I sidled up behind him, choked him unconscious, revved up his bike, and started the long journey south, though not before putting my fedora in the man's backpack, which I also stole - he's the guy from whom I acquired the laptop on which I write these posts - and equipped his helmet; safety first, after all.
The drive was uneventful for the first hour or so, but it took a turn for the worse when I saw to my horror that four robed cultists had started pursuing me on their own motorbikes. I recognised the sigil on their robes immediately; it was the emblem of my oldest nemesis, the death-god who wears a ridiculous gas mask.
"Well, isn't this great," I thought, "now the Fears will surely know where I am.
"Not where I'm going, though," I then realised, and, figuring that I needed to lose those cultists before they could figure out my scheme, immediately started driving the speed limit, causing them to rocket past me and into the back of two trucks which were in front of me. Ramping over one of the overturned bikes allowed me to careen over the fiery wreckage and to continue on my journey uninhibited for a while.
Little did I realise, though, that my own motorcycle had sustained damage from jumping through a huge fire, and was beginning to fail on me. After maybe another hour of driving after the chase, the bike started to shudder frenziedly. Pulling off to the side, the bike rended itself apart once I was off of it, much to my dismay.
In Novum Consilium
When I awoke, I saw that my companion had, in his sleep, fallen off of his branch and onto the ground, where I saw him struggling to stand up. Sliding down to the forest floor, I looked for any means to help my friend recover from his trauma.
"Don't bother, man," he whispered, as I beheld at least a dozen more Rakes clawing through the ground to retrieve their injured friend. When the Rake addressed the closest one, though, he referred to him as the Spade, so I supposed that Rake is just that particular one's name.
"We're morlocks," the Rake said, and the Spade nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, bro, don't worry about me. My friends here will take me to their tunnels and I'll just hide there, for I don't believe that the Fears know about them.
"You should find somewhere else to hide, though, as I can guarantee that our tunnels will be much too small for you."
I protested, recounting how I could fit through a pet door and break into a house that way, but he stood his ground, saying that, if the Fears did find out about the tunnel system, then they would immediately suspect that I would be there, too.
"You need to find a location so obvious that they would never look there," he advised me.
I agreed, bid them farewell, and watched as my friend was taken back to his home. However, they didn't offer any suggestions as to where I could safely hide, so I grew disillusioned; I didn't know what I was doing anymore.
With no other ideas, I decided to keep moving, for surely someone would have heard the digging of dozens of morlocks. Sure enough, once I was far enough away from the scene to be able to observe it without myself being observed, I saw three people - two men and a woman, presumably the family whose iPod I stole and the man whose Beats by Dre I had taken - rushing to the source of the loud scraping sounds.
Eventually I wound up back at the CVS from a few nights ago, where I figured that I could freeload on someone's WiFi in an attempt to find a place to hide. After a while, though, I got bored and watch the first several videos of TribeTwelve, and stumbled upon the legend of Der Großmann, who lived in the Black Forest in Germany.
I had hit the jackpot with that, I must admit, because if it's in a popular slender-series on YouTube, then no Fear would ever actually look there, since it's just so predictable of me to go there. I set out immediately, figuring I could end up at the sea and simply hide myself on a ship bound for Europe.
"Don't bother, man," he whispered, as I beheld at least a dozen more Rakes clawing through the ground to retrieve their injured friend. When the Rake addressed the closest one, though, he referred to him as the Spade, so I supposed that Rake is just that particular one's name.
"We're morlocks," the Rake said, and the Spade nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, bro, don't worry about me. My friends here will take me to their tunnels and I'll just hide there, for I don't believe that the Fears know about them.
"You should find somewhere else to hide, though, as I can guarantee that our tunnels will be much too small for you."
I protested, recounting how I could fit through a pet door and break into a house that way, but he stood his ground, saying that, if the Fears did find out about the tunnel system, then they would immediately suspect that I would be there, too.
"You need to find a location so obvious that they would never look there," he advised me.
I agreed, bid them farewell, and watched as my friend was taken back to his home. However, they didn't offer any suggestions as to where I could safely hide, so I grew disillusioned; I didn't know what I was doing anymore.
With no other ideas, I decided to keep moving, for surely someone would have heard the digging of dozens of morlocks. Sure enough, once I was far enough away from the scene to be able to observe it without myself being observed, I saw three people - two men and a woman, presumably the family whose iPod I stole and the man whose Beats by Dre I had taken - rushing to the source of the loud scraping sounds.
Eventually I wound up back at the CVS from a few nights ago, where I figured that I could freeload on someone's WiFi in an attempt to find a place to hide. After a while, though, I got bored and watch the first several videos of TribeTwelve, and stumbled upon the legend of Der Großmann, who lived in the Black Forest in Germany.
I had hit the jackpot with that, I must admit, because if it's in a popular slender-series on YouTube, then no Fear would ever actually look there, since it's just so predictable of me to go there. I set out immediately, figuring I could end up at the sea and simply hide myself on a ship bound for Europe.
A Noctis in Arboribus
Since that Camper found me so easily, I decided, instead of just sleeping on the ground as per usual, to climb into one of the tallest trees around and sleep in the branches like a sloth.
Finding a sturdy branch, I wrapped my arms and legs around it and hung from it, enjoying the soft breeze, and shortly thereafter drifted into a dreamless sleep.
However, after maybe an hour or two, I was awoken by the distant rustling of leaves, as if footsteps were approaching me. I shrugged it off until the movement stopped by the tree next to mine, and was then followed by the sound of claws on wood, as I presumed some creature was climbing the tree next to mine.
Once the sound stopped, I turned to look at where the source of the noise would roughly be, and, to my surprise, beheld the form of my high school friend, the Rake.
I greeted him, and he expressed shock at my presence, but his tone changed from shock to dismay as I recounted my recent situation to him.
"The saddest part is," he then whispered, "that the same thing happened to me just this morning."
"We should travel together, then," I replied, "maybe we could start to fight back if we did."
He agreed, and so we decided to sleep more, figuring that we could get a move on in the morning.
Finding a sturdy branch, I wrapped my arms and legs around it and hung from it, enjoying the soft breeze, and shortly thereafter drifted into a dreamless sleep.
However, after maybe an hour or two, I was awoken by the distant rustling of leaves, as if footsteps were approaching me. I shrugged it off until the movement stopped by the tree next to mine, and was then followed by the sound of claws on wood, as I presumed some creature was climbing the tree next to mine.
Once the sound stopped, I turned to look at where the source of the noise would roughly be, and, to my surprise, beheld the form of my high school friend, the Rake.
I greeted him, and he expressed shock at my presence, but his tone changed from shock to dismay as I recounted my recent situation to him.
"The saddest part is," he then whispered, "that the same thing happened to me just this morning."
"We should travel together, then," I replied, "maybe we could start to fight back if we did."
He agreed, and so we decided to sleep more, figuring that we could get a move on in the morning.
In Quaero Musicorum
Arriving back in the woods after my adventure to find a new suit, I, to my surprise, came across a normal, not-puppet Camper.
"Slender man," said she, "I haven't much time to explain, but it seems to me that this great chase in which you find yourself is just another machination of the Great Game."
"Why are you telling me this? Wouldn't you also be in pursuit of me, then?" I replied, unnerved.
"I always thought the Great Game was silly and childish," was her response, "so you have no need to fear me.
"Also, I have a suggestion to improve your journey," she then said, in a much calmer, almost sarcastic tone, "get an iPod."
She then turned and walked away, and I, figuring that music would help make the journey less lonely, decided to take her advice and look for a source of music.
After several hours of walking, now deep into the night, I found a dark house which towered above all of the other houses nearby.
"Surely there's an iPod in there somewhere," I murmured to myself, "I'll find a way in."
Perhaps throwing a rock through an upstairs window wasn't the best decision, but I did it anyway. After realising that it was a poor choice, I attempted a facepalm, a task which proved impossible for my faceless body.
"What was I thinking? Fuck," I thought, cursing my lack of foresight, but then I realised that I could still take advantage of this needlessly dire situation.
"I'll just sneak in through the pet door in the back door."
Contorting myself to beyond-slender proportions, I managed the tight squeeze into the kitchen, and, to my delight, beheld an iPod on a set of speakers. I took the little device, contorted myself once again, and slipped outside and back into the deep, dark forest. I made my way to the street, where I saw a pedestrian walking alone, so I stole the Beats by Dre right off his head and darted back into my refuge.
"Slender man," said she, "I haven't much time to explain, but it seems to me that this great chase in which you find yourself is just another machination of the Great Game."
"Why are you telling me this? Wouldn't you also be in pursuit of me, then?" I replied, unnerved.
"I always thought the Great Game was silly and childish," was her response, "so you have no need to fear me.
"Also, I have a suggestion to improve your journey," she then said, in a much calmer, almost sarcastic tone, "get an iPod."
She then turned and walked away, and I, figuring that music would help make the journey less lonely, decided to take her advice and look for a source of music.
After several hours of walking, now deep into the night, I found a dark house which towered above all of the other houses nearby.
"Surely there's an iPod in there somewhere," I murmured to myself, "I'll find a way in."
Perhaps throwing a rock through an upstairs window wasn't the best decision, but I did it anyway. After realising that it was a poor choice, I attempted a facepalm, a task which proved impossible for my faceless body.
"What was I thinking? Fuck," I thought, cursing my lack of foresight, but then I realised that I could still take advantage of this needlessly dire situation.
"I'll just sneak in through the pet door in the back door."
Contorting myself to beyond-slender proportions, I managed the tight squeeze into the kitchen, and, to my delight, beheld an iPod on a set of speakers. I took the little device, contorted myself once again, and slipped outside and back into the deep, dark forest. I made my way to the street, where I saw a pedestrian walking alone, so I stole the Beats by Dre right off his head and darted back into my refuge.
Sunday 8 March 2015
A Die in Silva
I awoke the next morning, both knives still impaled in my body and fedora still hidden in the trees. I stood lethargically, pulling both blades out of my skin and suit, and storing both in my jacket pockets.
"That almost hurt," I muttered to myself, retrieving the hat from the tall tree and putting it on my faceless head.
"These holes in my jacket are unsightly; I should get a new suit," I thought as I began to go to the nearest vendor of suits. The forest provided a surreal atmosphere as I wandered among the silent sentinels of the woods.
Several hours later I arrived at Sears, ready to obtain new clothes. I couldn't risk detection, though, so I sneaked around the back of the store, climbed the service ladder, and slid silently into the ventilation system.
Crawling with great difficulty, I eventually found myself over the suits, and, carefully removing the vent cover, peered into the store, seeing, to my relief, no one within sight of my desired suit. Once I retrieved the suit - a fine, tall suit of a pleasant black colour - I saw, to my horror, a salesperson approaching me. I did the only thing I could think of to hide: I hid among the circular rack of suit jackets, hoping that I could remain invisible underneath the various blazers.
After several agonising minutes, the salesperson passed, and I quickly drew myself back into the ventilation shaft, ready to return to the forest and find a new place to settle for the night.
Back on the roof of the store, I considered just staying the night there, before deciding against it, as those eldritch birds which haunt the night sky would surely detect me and close in for the kill. And besides, it's much easier to hide in a forest when you are often confused for a tree yourself.
"That almost hurt," I muttered to myself, retrieving the hat from the tall tree and putting it on my faceless head.
"These holes in my jacket are unsightly; I should get a new suit," I thought as I began to go to the nearest vendor of suits. The forest provided a surreal atmosphere as I wandered among the silent sentinels of the woods.
Several hours later I arrived at Sears, ready to obtain new clothes. I couldn't risk detection, though, so I sneaked around the back of the store, climbed the service ladder, and slid silently into the ventilation system.
Crawling with great difficulty, I eventually found myself over the suits, and, carefully removing the vent cover, peered into the store, seeing, to my relief, no one within sight of my desired suit. Once I retrieved the suit - a fine, tall suit of a pleasant black colour - I saw, to my horror, a salesperson approaching me. I did the only thing I could think of to hide: I hid among the circular rack of suit jackets, hoping that I could remain invisible underneath the various blazers.
After several agonising minutes, the salesperson passed, and I quickly drew myself back into the ventilation shaft, ready to return to the forest and find a new place to settle for the night.
Back on the roof of the store, I considered just staying the night there, before deciding against it, as those eldritch birds which haunt the night sky would surely detect me and close in for the kill. And besides, it's much easier to hide in a forest when you are often confused for a tree yourself.
A Dignissim in Morte
Once I knew that now another party had joined the worlds-wide chase, I darted deeper into the woods, hoping that I would lose at least one pursuer in the bleak darkness. Only after several minutes running did I discover that, not only was Bones still following close behind me, but he was following the smell of cigarette smoke which still lingered on my suit.
"Fuck this," I thought, "I could just impale him with a slender-branch."
I decided against it, though, as, thanks to the internet, everyone would immediately know it was me who killed him as soon as his corpse was discovered. Instead I engendered a better plan: I would hide his hat on a high tree branch, and let him run straight into me, which would ideally send him in a manic fright in the opposite direction.
Suffice it to say, it didn't work.
As soon as he found me, he stabbed me with an old pocket knife and stood on it in an attempt to get his hat back, which, little did he know, was about thirty feet above him.
"I didn't take your hat, bro," I chided, while crossing my fingers behind my back.
"Your cigarettes don't lie, man," he retorted, drawing a bigger knife from behind his back. He stabbed me through what would be the heart if I were a human, and, thinking that I would die from the wound, turned and walked away.
"I guess I have to get a new hat, then. Fuck," I heard him say as I lay 'dying.'
"Fuck this," I thought, "I could just impale him with a slender-branch."
I decided against it, though, as, thanks to the internet, everyone would immediately know it was me who killed him as soon as his corpse was discovered. Instead I engendered a better plan: I would hide his hat on a high tree branch, and let him run straight into me, which would ideally send him in a manic fright in the opposite direction.
Suffice it to say, it didn't work.
As soon as he found me, he stabbed me with an old pocket knife and stood on it in an attempt to get his hat back, which, little did he know, was about thirty feet above him.
"I didn't take your hat, bro," I chided, while crossing my fingers behind my back.
"Your cigarettes don't lie, man," he retorted, drawing a bigger knife from behind his back. He stabbed me through what would be the heart if I were a human, and, thinking that I would die from the wound, turned and walked away.
"I guess I have to get a new hat, then. Fuck," I heard him say as I lay 'dying.'
Initium Fuit Itineris Mei
Having left the scene, I stopped at a CVS for cigarettes, never questioning how I could smoke without a mouth. Once I obtained my smokes, I traipsed out into the nighttime streets, saw a man wearing a black fedora, and stole it off of his very head.
Before he could react, I had already vanished into the dark woods across the street from the CVS, leaving naught but a cigarette butt on the sidewalk. Little did I know, though, that I had stolen the hat off of Bones, who had befriended a certain blonde guy who dressed classier than everyone else at all times, and I realised the folly of leaving any evidence behind.
"This is the slender man's brand of cigarette, all right; he has to be somewhere around here," I heard him say as I slid behind the nearest, thickest tree.
"Fuck," I thought, "now I have to worry about both the Fears following me and Bones, who would stop at nothing to get his hat back."
Before he could react, I had already vanished into the dark woods across the street from the CVS, leaving naught but a cigarette butt on the sidewalk. Little did I know, though, that I had stolen the hat off of Bones, who had befriended a certain blonde guy who dressed classier than everyone else at all times, and I realised the folly of leaving any evidence behind.
"This is the slender man's brand of cigarette, all right; he has to be somewhere around here," I heard him say as I slid behind the nearest, thickest tree.
"Fuck," I thought, "now I have to worry about both the Fears following me and Bones, who would stop at nothing to get his hat back."
Erat a Bonum Die
The first day of my stint as a runner began like any other - stalking people who know of my existence, getting my suit pressed, buying a new tie and some new shoes - when, several hours past noon, I was confronted by my old, blind friend. I greeted him like normal, for I did not know the ensuing conversation would be a dark betrayal.
"You're out," said he, before attempting to erase my memory of the Fears. I proved too slender, though, and his beam of forgetfulness completely missed and hit a nearby raven.
"I'm out? You can't kick me out; I am the original Fear, the OG, if you will," I protested.
He once again fired his decrepit ray of past-destruction, but I was once again too slender for him.
"Don't make me get the others," was his reply.
"Fine, fuck you, I'll leave," I retorted in an attempt at reverse psychology. It didn't work, however, for suddenly I was punched in the lack-of-face by a Camper puppet.
Reeling back, I turned and ran before the blue-haired, stringed being could attack again.
"This is not over," I called back at them, "I'll be back. I always come back."
And so that's how I began on my arduous, treacherous journey.
"You're out," said he, before attempting to erase my memory of the Fears. I proved too slender, though, and his beam of forgetfulness completely missed and hit a nearby raven.
"I'm out? You can't kick me out; I am the original Fear, the OG, if you will," I protested.
He once again fired his decrepit ray of past-destruction, but I was once again too slender for him.
"Don't make me get the others," was his reply.
"Fine, fuck you, I'll leave," I retorted in an attempt at reverse psychology. It didn't work, however, for suddenly I was punched in the lack-of-face by a Camper puppet.
Reeling back, I turned and ran before the blue-haired, stringed being could attack again.
"This is not over," I called back at them, "I'll be back. I always come back."
And so that's how I began on my arduous, treacherous journey.
In Medias Res
Hello world. I am a man who used to wield immense power over those around me. I am a man who used to be feared and worshipped like a god.
I say that I used to be feared because, after numerous months of being regarded as a Fear, the other Fears had cast me aside, deeming me unfit and unworthy of being in with their little club.
They've hunted me for quite a while now, causing me to go on the run, ceaselessly drifting in this eldritch game of hide and seek.
I am the slender man, and this is my story.
I say that I used to be feared because, after numerous months of being regarded as a Fear, the other Fears had cast me aside, deeming me unfit and unworthy of being in with their little club.
They've hunted me for quite a while now, causing me to go on the run, ceaselessly drifting in this eldritch game of hide and seek.
I am the slender man, and this is my story.
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