Saturday, August 27, 2011

Son of a bitch.

For anyone paying attention to that son of a bitch that's stalking me, he's uploaded another video on his YouTube account. Really, I don't understand the point of cryptic videos with creepy music playing in the background. If you're trying to kill me, come do it. Don't fucking wait.

More than likely, he's trying to freak me out; except, that's pretty hard to do when I'm already paranoid over a faceless abomination!

He sent me the link to the video he just put up, with the message "There's more." I'm not sure what he's talking about - if there's another video on the way, or there's more in the video. (Click here to see the video)

The weird part is, I think this video is talking to the anonymous comment I got yesterday talking about how I ran away from some monster when I was a kid. In retrospect, it was a bit of a silly thing to say - I mean, really? You're going to say Slender Man was after me when I was little, but moving away from my childhood home in New York stopped him from watching me sleep? That's a bunch of bullshit, because if moving away from some place helped a person get away from him, I'm sure these Runners I keep reading about wouldn't have to be running at all.

I can't say at this point whether I like it that 'amiwhereallcry' is scaring off the trolls. I hate them both, you see.

Also, I'm not sure what the fuck the description means. It might be a song or something, but I haven't found anything that is even remotely interesting.

Anyways, I'll put up an update soon. I've been... busy. And before you ask, no, I haven't seen him.

Until next time.

- Art

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Maybe I am crazy. I mean, I saw something that shouldn't exist, and then my best friend just disappears, and no one remembers him. It feels like I made him up, or something... And ever since that night, I haven't seen that thing, not even a glance.

I don't even know how it would feel if I was crazy. Or if I am.

I'm rambling, aren't I? And talking to myself... on a blog... It seems like I've been talking to myself for a while. No one feels like talking to me about this, no one is helping me. I'm all alone. If I had some confirmation that this was really happening, or if someone was going through the same thing, maybe then I wouldn't question my sanity. Maybe.


Fuck it. Fuck you people who help each other except us 'newbies' - even if it's just one comment or something. Yeah, I understand you're probably going through a hard time. Whatever.

Nevermind. I'm just talking to myself again, because no one's there.

Oi, for anyone reading this and having the same sort of problem, take my advice. Don't wait for help; help yourself. That's what I'm doing.

I've read enough of these blogs to know what happens next. Some masked freak decides to be an asshole, come into my life, and fuck it all up - I think that hobo fits the bill pretty nicely, eh? Or, Suit comes along and decides that he's going to be my shadow. Well, I'm not going to wait for something to happen. I'm getting out of town before something happens to me, or one of my friends. And if I am crazy, well, it's not like it can get any worse, can it?

The only thing I'm worried about is, ironically, how all of my years at school were for nothing. Dumb, right? Lots of people hate school. Hah...

No, that's not the only thing; the other thing is Sarah. She probably hates me because I haven't talked to her since her dad was killed. But I need some... closure, or something. I need to tell her that everything is going to be alright. Even when it's not.

Huh... I have an idea. It's kind of crazy, but hey, if I am insane, it's right up my alley. I need to try something before I get out of here. And no, I'm not putting it up so that hobo can stop me. I'll save it for my next post.

Until next time.

- Art

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Soemthing is in here with me. NOt sure what but the cans were koncked over and  I woke up. Fucking sleep medicatoin didn;tt work damn it

going t o try andd look at the footage on the camera if its not broken, 

- Art

The hobo's been on here.

I was able to borrow someone else's computer to see this other post I was told about. I was able to read it, and I'm pretty sure the point of view is from that hobo I saw at the house. Except, now I'm not sure if he's just a hobo any more.

I'm thinking that maybe he's that 'amiwhereallcry' asshole who has been writing the anonymous comments. I know he's been on here before, so who says he couldn't have gotten on again and put that 'WE ARE THE DEAD' post up?

That's not my only major concern right now, though. First and foremost, I know that the Pale Bastard has now noticed me. Or, it noticed me noticing it. I haven't seen him since that night, but I'm going to keep an eye out. I have an old camera that Charlie gave me for Christmas, so I'm wondering if I should use that to record my room at night.

The reason I want to do that is because I've seen those videos on YouTube where that thing shows up, or you assume it's him, and then someone just disappears, or they start sleepwalking. So, yeah - I want to prevent that if I can. The only problem with an old camera is that I won't be able to upload any footage I get. Bummer, right?

Also, I remember reading about this in a book, but you can place a stack of cans (or something like that) near your door, and when someone tries to enter it, they knock over and create a loud sound. I'm probably going to do that, just in case it decides to creep through my door like he did in that Marble Hornets video.

Finally, I'm getting some sleep medication if I can so I won't have any of those weird dreams. It's a bad sign that they keep reoccurring, in my opinion.

So, that's the plan for the next few nights. If anyone else has any advise they can give me, please post in the comments. I need all the help I can get right now. I know I was an asshole before, but that's no real reason to let me be Tall Guy's snack, is it?

I think I'm going to start tagging these posts in order to catch the attention of people looking for blogs like this. I might be able to find someone who can help through that.

I hope.

- Arthur Pierce

Monday, August 15, 2011

I'm not crazy.

At least, I don't think I'm crazy. Sure, seeing some monster that isn't supposed to exist might lead to questioning one's sanity... but what if one's friend just disappears off the face of the earth? 

I mentioned that in my last post - Charlie's gone. And for the past couple of days, I've been trying to find him (without much luck). One can figure "Well, the Slender Man got him, Art!" but I refuse to believe that. If I believe that, then I'll fully believe that this is real and not some fucked up dream.

There's just one small problem to all of this: I seem to be the only one that remembers Charlie.

You read that right, and it's not a joke. Everyone I've talked to over in his town doesn't remember him. Even his parents are clueless when I mention his name; they just look at me like I'm some sort of mental patient. I called up his girlfriend, too (I think I mentioned her before), and she has no idea who I am, or who Charlie is. 

It's almost like he was erased from existence, except for the times I mention him on this blog.

I'm scared now, and I don't know what the fuck is going on. Did I make Charlie up or something, or did that thing do this? Please, if someone has any information, contact me. 

Also, someone mentioned that there's another post up on here. Well, I've been unable to see it, so I don't know if they're screwing with me or not.

I'll try and make another post later today. Until next time...

- Arthur Pierce

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Hey, readers, here’s a tip: If you are dumb enough to go into the creepy woods to find some abandoned house – AT NIGHT – you deserve to get eaten by some sort of monster, or butchered by a serial killer.

At least, that’s what I thought when I watched all of those horror movies with the protagonists making really dumb mistakes.

Right now, that’s how I feel – really fucking dumb. I DID go to an abandoned house in the middle of the creepy woods at night. Why? Because I’m an idiot. Call it genre-blind or whatever; I should have known better.

Let me start at the beginning.

A week ago, I told you all that Sarah’s dad had been attacked in the hospital. Well, when I got there, they had put him in surgery but weren’t expecting to save him in time. So, yeah, he’s dead. Something almost tore him apart, and the doctors are baffled at who could have done it. No one was seen going into his room, nobody suspicious was noticed at all, and his room was on the seventh floor of the hospital, so no one could have gone through the window.

To my knowledge, the police are investigating all of the staff on that floor. You know, to make sure none of them could have done it. But I know they won’t find a lead, because no one there did it. Something did it, yeah, and no wonder it didn’t appear on any of the cameras.

Well, that’s what started all of this. After that night, I began having these really vivid nightmares – but the thing is, they weren’t scary during the dream at all. It’s only after I woke up that I was scared. For instance, in one of my dreams I was celebrating my birthday (I guess I was a small kid or something) and I was opening this red and blue colored present. I ripped open the wrapping paper and found this bloody bone inside, and I picked it up with my teeth and ran around the house like I was a dog. That’s when I woke up, and was scared. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Does anyone know?

And then on Wednesday, I started dreaming about this house in the middle of the woods. I was standing in front of it, and the sky was time-lapsing, as if someone was recording it and sped up the footage. When I began walking towards the house, all of the lights inside it turned on, and the light seemed to pull me towards it. When I walked inside, I was in this really clean room (which was the exact opposite of the outside of the house), and something seemed off about it. It was almost as if it was tilted at an angle, yet gravity still pulled me towards the floor instead of shifting me sideways.

In this room, I found the same present from my earlier dream, but the difference was that there was nothing inside it. So, you know what I did? I tore out a bone in my body, and put it inside. WHAT THE FUCK?

And then, it all came to an end yesterday. I got a call from Charlie around nine in the evening. He sounded really upset at the time, and asked me if I could come pick him up because his car had been acting weird or something. I didn’t think anything of it, so I drove off to meet him, following some directions he had given me.

Well, something happened to my car, too. It was like the entire thing decided to shut off by itself. Everything went dead; the engine, the lights… I was scared. I didn’t know what the Hell was happening. And when I finally got it to start running again, the lights came back on and I found myself to be in front of the same house I had been dreaming about.

At first, I thought I was dreaming, or maybe I was unconscious because I had been in a wreck. So, I get the flashlight that’s in my glove compartment and I start walking towards the house. Why not investigate, yeah?

And then, I have this weird… feeling. It was almost like knowing you’re being watched, except I thought that I felt someone’s presence there. It seemed familiar to me, and so… I started calling out Charlie’s name. I don’t know why; don’t fucking ask. Maybe I thought he was there. I don’t know.

So, I go into the house and… Well, it’s just a house. Nothing new about it; no clean room, no present, nothing. I stayed for a few more minutes, maybe thinking something would appear, but after I realized that I was wasting my time there, I went outside. I was beginning to get creeped out, you have to understand.

And lo and behold, as soon as I walk outside, some guy is standing there staring at me. I guess I took him for a hobo, since most of his clothes had a dirty and worn look to them, but his face is what stood out. It was like he had taken all sorts of face paint and put it all over his face until it looked like some cheap clown face.

Since I thought I was still dreaming, I thought maybe this guy was Charlie dressed up. I called out his name, and then I noticed the hobo wasn’t looking at me, but over my head. And then he takes off running, like something is chasing him! I tried running after him, but the guy was really fast. I gave up after a few minutes.

And then… I was heading back towards the house when I saw that thing. It must have been what the hobo was staring at, since it was right in front of the house. It just stood there, staring at me, like I was some fascinating bug that it wanted to collect. Wait, why the Hell did I say staring? The thing didn’t even have any fucking eyes.

That was the point when I knew for sure that I wasn’t dreaming, because when you get the shit scared out of you in a dream, you wake up, it doesn’t keep scaring you. And let me tell you, that was the most scared I’ve been in my life. I’ve been paranoid for a while now, and then when I finally see that thing confirm it’s existence for me…

I tried to get away. I got in the car and was trying to get it to start, but the damn thing decided it was going to piss me off. Nothing was working; the lights cut out, so I couldn’t see. And then that thing was gone, like the lights cutting out was it’s way of saying “Peace out, bro.”

Except it wasn’t gone.

It was right outside the driver’s window, looking at me.

I don’t remember anything after that. It was exactly as I’ve read about on these other ‘Slender blogs’, like you feel as if you’ve lost a few hours or something. I don’t know what happened. I just don’t know.

When I started remembering again, I was in front of my house. It was about six in the morning, give or take a few minutes. I tried getting in touch with Charlie, but he hasn’t been answering his phone. I don’t know what happened to him.

To all of the people I made fun of for believing in this… Slender Man… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I fucked up big time, and now I’m paying the price, aren’t I?

I hope there’s a next time.

-      -    Arthur Pierce


I am sitting on the edge of the tree line, waiting for something. If I knew what, I might be better prepared, but I prefer not to argue with Him. Last time, it ended with bloodshed, and I had to clean off the bits and pieces of my partner.

I ponder how long I have waited; it seems like forever. I have not moved for a day and night, and I have not wandered off for food or drink. But my mind, instead, wanders – and I see my goal in sight. I see lights heading up the dirt road, piercing through the night’s curtain. And though the lights are far away, I know they will reach me soon.

Time passes. The lights have arrived, and I hear a car door slam shut. I wonder to myself why someone would come to an abandoned house at this time of night, but then again, the boy that had gotten out of the car believed he was about to save a friend.

The boy moves towards the house, his flashlight flickering in the darkness. I can sense he is frightened; it reminds me of how some people say “Dogs can tell if you’re afraid or not.” But I am no dog; I am a hound, yes, who follows his master’s words. But not a dog.

I seek out those who escaped. I am His hound, His tracker. Even He cannot be everywhere at once.

I can feel my senses coming back to me after all this time. I get up slowly so that I am not noticed by the boy. But my concern is misplaced, for his attention is all on the abandoned house. He walks towards it, shining his flashlight in the dusty windows. He believes his friend is here, but he is wrong. The boy was tricked.

I begin walking towards him; he does not hear me for he is shouting his friend’s name. I stop twenty paces away, watching as he enters the house. He does not know the danger here, nor does he know the things that are coming for him. I can feel Them coming, and it is strange; never before have I felt both so close. My mind becomes sidetracked for a moment before I feel pain; He commands me to pay attention. I understand.

I stand in front of the house, watching, waiting. I can hear the boy inside, looking for clues. But he will not find any, for this is his trap – he is meant to die here. Or is he? If the Other arrives, perhaps this will turn back the course. I will be left at square one, then.

The boy comes out of the house; I can see the scowl on his face. He knows there is nothing here. And then he stops, startled by my presence. He shines the light in my eyes, calling his friend’s name. But now, I see something behind the boy, something that is darker than the night itself.

The monster is tall and thin, Its arms open as if to embrace. It wears a suit that seems made out of the dark in the Abyss, for the darkness around it is reflected back. It is a burned hole in existence, something that shouldn’t be, but is. And my eyes look towards where Its face should be, and I feel fear. I think Farstrider understands why I am here, and it is angry.

Or is that anger? I do not know for certain. I feel angry myself, but it is not my emotion. Where does it come from? What is it? What is that thing?

The boy calls out his friend’s name again, and I look back at him. He is frightened.

My mission has failed. The Other was here, and now my master and He are at odds over their prey. They both desire the boy, and if I intervene I shall die. I take a step back, and then I begin to run. I run into the forest; I hear Arthur yelling at me to come back. But if I remain, I shall die.

I will live to serve another day.

Saturday, August 6, 2011


Hello, readers. A lot has happened in the past week, so if you don't mind, I'll be using sections this time around.


Yep, school starts soon. It feels like summer's gone by so fast, and yet... it feels like most of my childhood was faster! It's strange, isn't it? How time flies? I just can't believe that in one year, I'll be out of school and I'll be an adult. I'm kind of scared, to be honest, because I keep wondering how I'm going to earn a living. Writing, after all, is a rather tough business to get in, and it's pretty risky. Of course, everything in the entertainment industry is risky if you think about it: make one wrong move, and you can be swept aside by someone looking for what they consider 'talent.'

But in order for you to get noticed, you have to go to college, and in order to go to college you have to have money. That's something that I don't have at the moment, and my family is struggling with the economic crisis right now, so they're not going to give me anything. I guess I could go to a community college for a semester or two while I save some money, but I'm refusing to take out a loan from the bank. I don't want to be in debt by the time I'm twenty-one. My best chance right now is a scholarship, but the school I attend... Well, let's just say they're fucking assholes, to put it bluntly. They only select the teachers' kids for awards and such, and it has been that way ever since I got here in fifth grade. I guess that's the bad thing about living in a small city, eh?

If anyone has any ideas on how to pay for college, please comment. I need help.

Writing Contest

I submitted my story a few days ago, and the contest ends on the 13th. It's not likely that I'll win, but hey, a guy can hope. I have some of you to thank for that, by the way; your 'Slender Stories' inspired me. When they put up the winners, I'll post my story on here (I don't want them thinking I copied the story from here) - that is, if anyone wants to read it.


I don't know if you all remember, but I mentioned that I was going to try and get an interview with one of the detectives that works at our police department. Well, after a month or so of waiting, I was finally able to talk to one of them! I am amazing, eh?

I have taped the interview and did that because I have a very poor memory sometimes and wanted to have something to go back to, in case I forgot something. However, my poor excuse for a camera didn't get the audio, so I can't really go back and listen to it now. I've tried raising the volume on it, but it's not working. And the weird thing is, that's the only video on that camera that has no audio. I'm trying to think back on what might have caused it so that it doesn't happen again; my theory right now is that since it was laying down instead of me holding it, I must have blocked the thing that recorded the audio. Just a guess.

Anyways, enough about the camera. On to the interview!

I didn't learn anything particularly interesting, to be honest. Since I live in a small city, there's not a whole lot that goes on that piqued my interests, like murder and kidnapping (and I mean 'interests' as in, stuff I'm interested in writing about, not 'interests' as in things I'd like to do). Really, the only crimes in my area are linked to drugs most of the time which is a bit sad. Making drugs, selling drugs, stealing something to buy drugs... Yeah, that's pretty much it.

And the job isn't all fun and games, either. Of course, I already knew this (let's face it - everything is dramatized on television), but I was still surprised at how much paperwork detectives have to do. They have case after case coming to them, and sometimes it'll be a quick case, other times it will be something that takes a day. And if you let it take you that long, a lot of cases stack up on you. So, the next time you're watching a cop show on CBS and they have a character receive a lot of paperwork (usually played for comedic purposes, actually), that's the real thing! 

There was one thing I didn't get, though. I mean, I can understand murder not being on the big list of crimes these detectives have solved, but kidnapping... Well, it's just that. For the past few months, kids have been going missing in three counties, including mine. At first, people just assumed that it was because one of the kids' parents had taken off with the kid in order to get away from an abusive spouse, or that the kid had ran away. Normal stuff, you know? 

But when the number of kids that had disappeared rose to seven, that's when people started to get concerned. This wasn't like any normal kidnapping, because... well, there was nothing suspicious about it. Whenever the child disappeared, it was like they were gone - poof! It's like they were the star of some magic trick, except the magician was Nicholas Cage and he fucked up his magic (like usual). There's no evidence that they were kidnapped, other than the other kidnappings themselves. No one that seemed a little off was seen around the children before they disappeared. Nothing.

Naturally, the police couldn't tell me anything because they can't give away case details unless it's for 'the greater good'. But you know what I think? I think they have nothing to go on right now because there's no evidence. Creepy, right? 

I don't know what happened to those kids; I probably don't want to know. It'll turn out to be some child serial killer or something who gets off on slicing up a five year old. It's only a matter of time before the police find a body, anyways; a person can't just disappear off the face of the earth.

And this is due to my ever-increasing paranoia, but I'm noticing a lot of similarities between these kidnappings and the Slender Man stories. Let's see... People disappear without a trace? Check. Children being kidnapped? Check. Police baffled, or having their thumbs up their ass? Check. Ugh, I'm being an idiot, aren't I? There's a rational explanation for the kidnappings, not some fucking monster from the Internet.

Sometimes, I hate my imagination.


Okay, so I was getting ready to publish this when I got a call from Sarah. Her dad was just attacked at the hospital. I'm heading over there now, but I'll update you all on the situation when I get the chance.

Until next time.

- Arthur Pierce

EDIT (8/8/2011): Sarah's dad is dead, and I think I know who did it. I'll try and update soon, but if I don't, just assume that... something got me.