Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Not sure if this thing is working or not. If it is, then you all are reading this after I'm gone. Well, not sure if gone is the correct term. Dead, disappeared, whatever. All that matters is that I'm gone.

I'm being hunted. No matter where I go, no matter what I try to do to defend myself, they're coming for me. Ever since I made that last post, that painted hobo has continually appeared outside. And the whispering doesn't stop. It's there every night, and each day my resistance weakens.

I fear for my family, so by the time this is up I'll be gone. Maybe dead, if they get me, but I don't need that bugger going after them.

I do have some relatively good news, though. The taped whispers that I mentioned previously work. I sent it to someone who had seen Farstrider around them, and wait what the hell did I just say? No, slender man. Not Farstrider. What the hell?

I'm starting to lose my damn mind.

Oh, look at that. The tall son of a bitch is standing right outside my window. I'm on the second floor. The stories are true, then. Wow. I've never gotten a good look at It because It's always been either far away or in my dreams. Up close and personal, though, is a different thing.

Piss off, you bastard.

Not sure if it's picking this up, but I'm starting to hear voices. Not sure if It's causing it, or if I'm just going crazy. They seem familiar.

That's right, I can see you! Piss off!

Funny thing is, I thought this bastard wasn't coming after me because the other thing was after me. I guess I was wrong. Isn't that right, asshole?

Looking back on it now, maybe the Rake was just softening me up for this moment. Maybe all this time, it had other plans in store for me. Plans for every single outcome. If I resisted, Farstrider would get me. If I didn't, the Rake would get me.

I've played it close to the edge, but now I've strayed too far. They're coming for me.

Wow, I'm depressing myself. Better to go out with a bang instead of sitting here waiting to die.

I recognize the voices now. Each and every one of them is someone I've hurt. All of those people I helped Farstrider get. All of them are blaming me.

Or maybe It's get messing with my head.

No, no, no, no.

I need to get those whispers online. I need to. I need to help you all. How do I do that without It disappearing out of my sight?

I'm dead, or worse. I need to go. I need to get out of here. If I turn my head, though, It'll be gone. I just have to get to the door.

Okay. Turned my gaze. I can't see It now.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Why is this hallway so fucking dark?

I need to stay quiet. Parents will wake up if they hear me. I think I'm packed enough to get out of here. Maybe I am. Maybe.

Living room is also really dark. Anything could be hiding in those shadows. Oh, this is not good, this is not good, this is not good.

Okay. Almost out of here, and I haven't seen any of them yet.

In the car. Made sure to check the tires and the backseat, plus the sides of the car. Didn't want to get jumped again.

Okay. I think I'm in the clear.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Right as I turn on the fucking headlights? Are you kidding me? That's like a cheap horror movie scare. Fucking painted hobo.

Is this thing still recording? I don't even know anymore. I don't think it's a good idea to keep this running while I'm driving, but talking to myself is helping me concentrate right now. Odd.

Anything could be hiding in the treeline. Keep steady, Art, keep steady.

There It is again. Hi, asshole, are you stalking me now?

It's like It keeps teleporting in front of me. What a fucking cheater.

Don't try and run into it, don't try and run into it. Doesn't work.

Holy shit!

Okay, the radio just blasted on at full volume. Scared the shit out of me. It's acting weird now, not sure what's going on.

How the hell am I almost out of gas? That's bullshit! Absolute bullshit! I made sure to fill it up!

No no no no no.


There's no way out of this, is there?

All I can do is wait here and die. Not much of a way to go out.

I can see It now. It's just standing there at the treeline. I almost didn't see it at first, but it's like one of those where's Waldo things. You skim over it, and then you look back and see what you were looking for.

I need to make a run for it, guys. I need to. It's really my only way out. Sooner or later, It's going to get me in here.

I can't keep this recording any longer. I'm sorry everyone for everything I did.

Here goes nothing.

Friday, January 20, 2012



My senses are gone.

Allow me to introduce myself.
I used to be human... am I still?
I am a courier for those you fear.
The whispers.... They changed me.
You run and you hide, and some of you even fight.
I thought giving in would stop the torture.
In the end, though, it all ends the same.
It didn't. I can't run now, can't fight.
You are marked from birth, and set for slaughter.
Now, They're using me for... what? I don't know.
You cannot outrun the inevitable.
Sometimes, it's like a dream to me.
This is obvious to some of you; to others, it will become clear very soon.
I see my family... They have forgotten me.
But I did not come to restate a message preached time and time again.
My friends... They do not answer when I call their name.
Some of you have already answered the Calling.
Only one fights, but I fear I've doomed him, too.
Most of you are too ignorant to obey.
He believes he is at fault for my research. 
It need not end with death and destruction.
That name... in my head. Farstrider, Farstrider...
All They ask for is your immediate surrender.
It's His name, isn't it? The being without a face.
Soon, the dominant species of the planet will no longer be humans. Your very existence will be insignificant to Them; you will be a fly in their sight.
He had no identity until we gave Him one.
At best, you'll be excellent pets - but only if you serve faithfully.
And we humans, the bastards of life, forgot to give Him a face.
They have crossed countless realities, and they have noticed yours.
Maybe He's pissed because of that.
Some have already crossed the gap.
I focus too much on Him, when I serve another.
And if you thought that running was the appropriate answer to Them, death will be the only escape from Those who cross next.
I can feel that presence in my mind... The claws tearing my mind.
But even death may die.
I do not feel pain; in fact, it's almost... pleasing.
My time draws to a close.
A kind of escape; a dream. 
The first message has been sent; the second is hidden in plain sight.
I feel so empty. I fear that when I am next seen, my mind will be gone.
I return to my place.
And the sad part about this is that it isn't even the beginning.
I am where all cry.
If anyone gets this message, I am Charlie Al Wymer... And I'm sorry for all of this. Don't give in, like I did - fight. I am so sorry.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Final Update (Maybe)

Happy New Year. Yes, it's a little late, but better late than never, right?

Write. That's what I started this blog to do - to write. And boy, have I been writing constantly for the past few months. But not about fiction, about my life. Strange, isn't it? But I'm thankful that I've been doing just that, because I would be dead if not for this blog.

It all started with that Slender Man fellow. Oh, sure, I've only seen him twice, but he's affected my life more times than I can count. I don't think I need to tell you about how I screwed up, do I? Anyway, keeping him in my life has just made it more terrible, this is true; however, it's also kept me alive. Thinking constantly about him, being paranoid that he'll come creeping through my door... That's placed him in my life, whether he wants to show up or not.

And the other one, the Rake, doesn't like that too much.

I've had a theory for about a month now that involves why Slender Man hasn't actually appeared to me on multiple occasions. Despite going down the path of a few other bloggers (Find out about Slender Man, be paranoid about Slender Man, start seeing Slender Man constantly, eventually die), it's never progressed to that third step. A part of me wants to believe that I'm not his type, but it's something more than that. As soon as I started researching him, the other one came along shortly after. It's like I can only have one of these beings hunting me, and the Rake called dibs first.

Which actually makes sense; I was talking to my parents the other day, and they said I used to be frightened by the monster in my closet. Now, I'm sure every kid goes through this, but my parents claimed that it got so bad that my personality started to change into something filled with rage. We eventually had to leave New York state and come here (did you really think I was going to tell you where I lived? Dream on). After that, my younger self wasn't frightened anymore. I don't remember that this at all, and probably with good reason - forget about burying it in my subconscious. I didn't do that.

The Rake did.

I've been hearing whispers in my sleep for the past few months. Half of me will wake up, and I'll hear something close to my ear. It's something unintelligible, but still affects my mind. Look, I'm not sure how it works, it just happens that way. Every night this happens, I'll wake up and my memory will be dimmed. It's almost like someone took a marker and started drawing right on top of my memories, replacing what's already there.

The changes were subtle at first. I started to forget small things, like my keys or my school books. And then I started to forget Charlie; then I started to forget Slender Man. The Rake has been wanting me to forget about them, because they're tied to the happenings in my life. And if I ever forgot about them, if I ever got rid of the memory of another monster coming to get me, I'm sure that the old monster in my closet would come back to finish the job. It's like they both can't share the same prey.

Reading back through this blog, though, strengthened my memory on Charlie and Slender Man. I remember them, though not the specific memories. And... that's what's kept the Rake at bay. He was only able to attack me when I had forgotten to update this blog, I bet.

And I can't keep my life hooked to this, I just can't. Eventually, something will happen and everything on here will be erased, or I'll get into an accident and end up forgetting about this. And as soon as that happens, I'll be dead. I'll be monster food.

So, it's better to strike back with what time I have left, right?

I can't beat the Rake, but I have an idea that might just stop Slender Man for good. The Rake's been filling my subconscious with forgetting Tall, Dark, and Faceless, right? So, why not use that to my advantage? I have that tape recorder, and it's been picking up on the whispers. If I had someone else to listen to them, someone who had been affected by the monstrosity, perhaps they'll forget him. I've read theories that the more you fill your mind with him, the stronger he is; what if the more you forget him, the weaker he gets? Almost like a... reverse tulpa, I guess?

All I can do is try. This is literally my last chance to try and atone for my actions. If I can help out everyone else, if I can weaken him to the point where there's a chance of getting rid of him forever, I'll try it.

The chances of this working are slim (no pun intended). I've an opportunity to try this on someone, so within the next few days, that's what I'll be working on. But you can bet that this isn't going to end quietly. They're going to try and protect themselves, and they'll kill me if they get the chance. So, that's why this is most likely my final update.

However, should another post arrive on here, it'll most likely be from my phone. A friend of mine (and no, I'm not giving out their name) has been able to create a speech-to-text program for it, and it'll record my last moments, should they occur. I've got it set up to where it'll automatically send to this blog, so you all will know if I've succeeded or failed.

I thank you for reading this, and the other parts of my blog. Some of you have been undeniably helpful, while others... not so much.

You all are the reason I kept going back, hoping for someone to help me. But I suppose the truth is, you can only help yourself at times like these. I'll try that, and if it works, I'll help everyone.

I'll help everyone...

Listen to me, rambling on. I'm ending this now so that I can get back to work.

I hope there's a next time, but don't count on it.

- Arthur Pierce

The dreams of a mad man. 
Keep calm, carry on.
 Farstrider is coming.