And here's a story on it that my dear friends at The Eldritch Post did.
Tuesday 12 April 2016
Reprehendo Sicco Mea Denigrata
Look at my mugshot. Aren't I dapper.
And here's a story on it that my dear friends at The Eldritch Post did.
And here's a story on it that my dear friends at The Eldritch Post did.
Sunday 15 March 2015
Finem Fabulae
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.
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.
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.
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