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.

No comments:

Post a Comment