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I can see you now.

Independence Day

I haven't really had a successful day.

You know from my last post I tried to kill myself. Didn't work, though those cuts I got from the other thing started bleeding... Which is weird, because they're just scars. Or supposed to be. I don't know. whatever.

Then my cash is starting to run low. Gonna have to use it more conservatively from now on. Maybe it's for the best.

damn.

Its times like this when I miss the simple things in life. things yoiu dont think about after awhile. Like airconditioning. Holy shit, it's hot. Its almost midnight and it feels like it's 100 right now. And then theres my ipod. Or music in general, really. I miss it. whenever I would get really emotional or something, i'd listne to stuff in order to calm my mind. Didnt matter what it was as long as it had a good beat. I'd sing to myhself but I have a terrible voice.

Found a better wifi connection earlier today, so moved what i had over here. It's next to a kind of warehouse abandonedish place, whatever the hell you call it. signal is pretty good, so I'll stick here for a while. Not like itll matter in the end.

Managed to go through some of the other blogs that are subscribed to mine. A few don't have any blogs, but doesnt matter. The ones that do count.

Like Rachael. I reaed her's first. Not sure why, but i did. Made me even more despressed. Another person dead.

Looked at a guy called the Philosopher, or something like that. don't know what he's up to except for writing a book. Wish I had the time for that. I think its about bears though, so have fun with that, dude.

another was this blog called the Refugees. I thought maybe they were in the clear, but towards the end they got fucked big time. Peter and Natalie... Damn. Im sorry for you all. I know that doesnt mean much fcoming from a guy like me, a person who hasnt really had someone personal die, but you keep your heads on your shoulders. Keep running.

Last one was the detective I mentined a while back, the one i called a fake. Fuck... i feel so bad for that. he probably didn't see it, but i feel like i'm disrespecting his memory. i'm tempted to go and edit it out now. Damn it.

I can see why so many people liked him, gave them hope. yeah, Zeke was a little over the top. But he brought something to the table, fighting back. something i don't even have the backbone to do anymore. If Zeke cant survive... we're basically screwed. if what mary or whatever the hell her name is said is true, we're screwed anyway. no way of killing Him. no way at all.

i want to test my theory out, the one i posted a while back. I don't know if itll work though, and i dont want anymore blood on my hands.

heh.. wish i could get a chuckle out of myself. hacen't laughed in a while. maybe I'l get lucky and Riddles will say something on here. unless hes dead. he's a proxy, too, but what the fuck, who cares anymore. only proxy that tried to kill me is the hobo, and im not sure if he was even trying to kill me. or if hes a proxy at all.



Just came back from the roof of the warehouse. I was ready to jump, I really was. But something held me back. I couldn't do it. And then I looked over to my right and saw the other one. It was sitting on the ledge, looking away from me, and I couldn't tell if it was it or not at first because of the poor lighting. Just a hunched-over outline.

Then it turned towards me and I saw those damn eyes...

It's always the damn eyes that get me. Not the fucking Krueger claws or the Smeagol skin. No, it's the fucking eyes. I can't describe them, but the feeling I got afterwards... It was almost like that feeling you get when you go into your bedroom and found someone's moved your stuff around. That sense of violation.

I don't claim to know Farstrider's motivations. Some claim he's the Angel of Death, some think he's the Devil. Some think he's just a fucking alien, or just a being from an alternate dimension that likes to screw with humans. Whatever it is, no one knows for certain what His motivation is. No one can know for certain if he's necessarily good or evil (though I'm guessing a lot of people are leaning towards the latter).

But there's one thing I know for certain: This thing, the one people call the Rake... It's evil. No, it's not just evil. It goes beyond that, goes beyond the meaning of evil. If there was another word to sum up just how fucking evil it is, that word would describe it.

It took Sarah's dad and turned him into bits and pieces. I'm fairly certain that it brainwashed Charlie and made everyone except me forget about him. And I'm pretty sure it did the same to everyone I knew, as well.. But it doesn't stop there. If from what I remember is true, how I used to have nightmares about a bogeyman in my room before we moved from New York, then this thing has been there my entire life. Farstrider? Yeah, fuck him, he comes for you when you're a kid and if you get away you get off easie-peasie until later. But this thing I'm sure didn't go away. No, because it's fucking evil. It's always watching, making it's move. You don't always see the pieces moving, but they're there.

So, right. I'm there on the roof, watching this thing for the first time in months. The cuts I got way back when are starting to act up, but I don't give a shit. I stare at it for a few moments, terror-stricken like some are when they come face-to-faceless with Farstrider.

I don't know why I did what I did next. Maybe it was just some part of me that had been buried for a while resurfacing, or maybe I was pulling a bluff.

I started calling the thing names.

I don't remember any specifics, so don't ask any questions on that. But I just remember this look it got on its... face. It was really subtle, and I may have imagined it, but it looked to me like it was confused.

I took a step off the ledge, keeping my eyes trained on it. It kept watching me, its head starting to turn in a way that more than creeped me out.

And as I took those steps, thoughts came pouring into my head. The depression I've had for a few weeks, the thoughts of ending it all but not being able to... I'm confident it's that thing that was sitting on the ledge. I don't know how it does it, but it did.

And by simply showing up, it made all of that go away. I'm more determined than ever to fight these things. I'm just a kid, but I'm willing to give it all I've got in order to take these things down. If I don't - if anyone affected by these beings don't, then all of the people who have died fought for nothing.

So, my first order of business?

I'm coming after you, Charlie. Or whatever you are nowadays. I know you're still out there, and I know you're waiting for me back there. And if you honestly think that a being that has a knack for impaling people on tree branches is going to stand between me and you, you're going to have a rude wake-up call.

Oh, and if the Rake or one of its slaves are reading this right now, I have just one message for it:

Nice job fixing it, motherfucker.

Bad news. I tried taking a piece of glass across my wrists, but it didn't work. It was sharp enough, too, so I don't know why it's not working. Right now, I'm going to blame Him. He seems to be the only person right now that I can blame beside myself.

When I was twelve, my grandpa passed away. This wasn't the first time I'd experienced a relative's death, actually; another grandparent died when I was a bit younger. But it wasn't the same, because as a kid I didn't realize what death meant. Back then, it was just a bad guy getting his just desserts, or one of the good guys disappearing until they could bring him back. But real people aren't superheroes. We can't come back, and what's after that is final. We're dead. End of discussion.

So, when I was twelve, my grandpa passed away. That's the first time I realized what death was about. How it could be there, just like that. But my grandpa was older than dirt, right? So that meant I would live a long time. Well, joke's on me, I guess. I know I'm going to die eventually, because that's what happens to people like me. We make a blog, we try to run, and then bam, we're dead. Dead, dead, dead. That's what happens to us, to all of us, and there's no escape. It's a loop that just keeps on repeating, over and over, and there's no stopping it. People reading this that aren't hooked on this overall story will be soon, they might make their own blog, and then they'll die, too. I'm killing people right now, aren't I? Great. I'm a damn murderer. I'm already responsible for several other deaths, though, so why not a few more?

I think the saddest thing, though, is dying alone. My grandpa died alone, you know, and that's because he had a heart attack while grandma was shopping. No one was there to comfort him when he died. And then you have to take into account all of the people in the world who have died like that. A hiker that got lost in the woods. A homeless person who couldn't get anything to eat. A person who got into an accident in the middle of nowhere.

The one thing that those things have in common is that the people have a chance of getting out of it. The hiker could be rescued, the homeless person could be taken into a shelter, and by some miracle the person in the accident could get to the hospital. But there's people like me, people who are being hunted by these damn things... We have no chance. There is no one coming to save us. No matter how long I run, no matter how hard I try to evade them, nothing is going to work.

There's something I didn't want to mention in my last post. I was looking for news in my home town a few weeks ago. There's nothing there about me; no mention of me missing, nothing. It's like I dropped off the face of the earth.

Just like Charlie.

But there was something on the news. A few miles away from my town, a kid disappeared. Five. I think his name was Bradley. Amber alert went out, but no one's seen him since.

A few days after that, I checked the site again. Another kid disappeared, this time a few miles away from the other town. A girl named Cynthia, seven. She was shopping with her mom and wandered off a few feet away. Mother couldn't find her after that. Cameras did pick up a man, though; a guy in a suit. Here's the thing - the guy's face looked like that of the child killer they caught near my town. Yeah, you remember that guy, the one who made me think Farstrider was after me. There's one problem: The killer is in jail, so police think maybe they got the wrong guy since the disappearances have started happening again.

A week after the girl disappeared, Bradley's body was found on the side of the interstate. Limbs were broken, head turned around. Another kid disappears, and everyone starts freaking out just like they did last year. But somehow, none of this reaches the national news. Weird.

This pattern has been repeating for the past few months, and while a lot of the children aren't showing up, at least two other bodies have been recovered.

I looked at a map, started connecting the dots. The disappearances are all in a line.

A line that's headed straight towards the town I'm in.

I don't know why He's doing this. Maybe to make me paranoid or anxious. Maybe to torment me. Probably to torment me. Definitely. He knows I have no chance of getting away in time, not with the ground He's covering. I'm running out of time, and I have no plan.

Maybe I should go ahead and end it. That's got to be better than what He has in store for me.

Sorry.

The network I was leeching off of went down a few weeks ago, and just a few hours ago it came back on. Since I'm in a relatively safe place, I didn't want to move and risk getting caught.

Anyway, I promised I'd tell you what happened over the past few months, so here it goes.

I don't remember much about what happened the night I ran. I can get a vague outline by reading the post from that night, but other than that all I can remember is darkness and trees. If I encountered anything later that night, I don't remember it.

I woke up in the early afternoon and found myself in a town about two states away from where I lived. I had this long scab on my arm, too, but it didn't look like someone had cut me. I think it might have came from landing on a stick, but I probably won't know for sure. I did have my belongings with me, so whatever managed to move me was nice enough to let me keep my stuff. It's a lot tougher than it sounds, though. I'm able to wash my clothes at this place in town, but that doesn't stop them from being beat up. My shoes are about ready to fall off my feet, too.

It's not that I can't buy clothes. I could if I wanted to. I just need the limited amount of money I have in my wallet for food, and even that has almost ran out. I do have a debit card, but I really don't want to use it because it'd be easier for someone to find me that way.

I guess my savior in all of this has been these yard sales. Around here, every Saturday someone is selling a bunch of junk that I can use. I've already replaced a few of my clothes for only a couple of dollars, and I'm going to guess that it'll probably be a few months until I need to replace them again. Not all of them fit, of course, but you have to make do with what you got, right?

Right, anyway, getting back on topic. I was expecting to see the monsters coming after me as soon as possible, but it's like they've lost my scent or something (although to be honest, I'm probably tempting fate by saying that). There's been some weird stuff that's happened, but nothing to do with me. A few disappearances, really, and those were in another state.

I guess the weirdest thing has been picking up on things that I haven't seen before. For instance, that monster I talked about in my last post... I mentioned how I didn't believe the person at first, but I continued to read about it until I did my homework. Normally, I would have just blown them off and went about my day, but in the position I am in, I don't know... It's hard to put into words. I guess I felt sorry for them. I wanted to help, but being just text over the Internet isn't very helpful..

Just letting you know, I'm not running. I've thought about it, but I figure it costs a bit too much to keep running from town to town. I'll stay where I'm at; nice and safe-like. Once the things get here - and they will get here - I'll consider running, but I have to have a plan first. That night, I didn't have a plan and I almost had  an abrupt organ transplant thanks to the Suited Surgeon.

In the mean time, I'll try and update as often as I can, but don't expect too much. If that wifi goes down again, you might not hear from me for a couple of weeks again.

- Arthur

Theories

Every time I open my eyes, I'm afraid I'll see them. One with nothing to hint at its motives, the other with those cold, calculating eyes.

While Slender Man's appearance seems to have reached a sort of memetic status, the Rake's is a lot more debated. I've read stuff that says the claws are like some sort of glove, and others believe they're natural. From what I can tell by the thing appearing to me, they're not connected to any sort of glove. But the stuff that says the Rake is pretty much a hunched over, pale-skinned being is true. But the eyes... good God, the damned eyes. They're what I remember most about the thing. Some say they're all black, but... that's not what it looked like to me. They looked almost human. But they seemed... old, like they'd seen too much. And there was something to that gaze... an edge to it that makes me cringe.

I've been playing with the differences in my head for a while now, trying to make sense of them. Why do some people claim they can see a face on Slender Man while others see nothing? Why do some people think the Rake is just a brutal being rather than a clever hunter?

I think it all comes down to this theory I've read called the tulpa effect. It pretty much means that if you believe in something enough, it'll come into existence. Now, I don't personally believe in this myself, but there are aspects about it that make sense.

For instance, believing in something is pretty much what happened to me. I got so paranoid, I started thinking that Slender Man was coming for me (Little did I know, something else was already hunting me). Then... poof, shit hit the fan. But I don't think it necessarily brings the being into existence; if that were so, there'd be so many monsters out there, we'd be overrun. That brings credibility to the theory that one being exists.

So, why the difference in appearance? Does that show the mental health of the person being tormented? Maybe.

Over these past four months, I've had a lot more free time than I normally do. It's allowed me to find things that are normally overlooked. For instance, I found an urban legend of sorts about a monster over in North Carolina. At first, people claimed that it had its origins in Native American culture, but that was added for credibility reasons.

According to the original poster, the story originated about ten to fifteen years ago. Apparently, there was this demon with wild spikes, bulging eyes, and patches of skin stitched onto its own body. Now, here's the weird part: This demon could turn people to stone over time just by touching people once. Holy shit.
I was ready to skip over it, but the original poster continued to say that lately the story had been appearing again, but in a much darker fashion. A girl named Beth contracted a disease called "fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva", otherwise called FOP and Stone Man Syndrome. Oh, that's interesting, isn't it? Stone Man Syndrome? You are damn right it is, because Beth progressively got worse at a rate that's unusual for someone with FOP. She died a year later, but if she had her way she would have killed herself a long time ago because she was in constant agony.

But not from FOP; oh, no, that's not it at all. Whenever she was around a large amount of people, such as a city or a decently-sized town, she'd claim that she was hurting in spots that made no particular sense. For instance, one time she claimed that her entire head felt like it was being cleaved in half... and at that moment, there had apparently been a car wreck where someone had half of their head taken off.

Then, there was another person who lived in another part of the United States. He had been on vacation in the region where the story had originated, and during his stay he had apparently been attacked by a homeless guy who had dreadlocks, big glasses, and patches pretty much everywhere on his person. Read the description of the demon again if you don't understand what I just said.

A few months later, the guy contracted FOP and ended up dying almost a year later, but not before claiming he had pains in pretty much every place on his body. His doctors couldn't find anything wrong with him, though...

Maybe the original poster was grabbing at straws here, but isn't it kind of strange that two different people, both in the same region and around the same time, ended up getting this very rare disease with both having weird psychological problems? Combine that with the similarities between the demon in the story and the homeless guy, and it seems incredibly fishy.

Okay, back to my main point (sorry for getting sidetracked): These monsters exist, but they're not confined to specific descriptions. For Slender Man, it's the tall, thin exterior; for the Rake, the pale skin and the claws; and for the demon I just told you about, it's the wild hair, the bulging eyes, and the patches that cover it.

Now, ability-wise, I think that these creatures can be capable of almost anything, but because we give them an identity, they're restricted to it. So, when we believe that Slender Man exists, one person may believe he can burn shit to the ground while others believe the exact-opposite. So, the creatures behave accordingly.
So, what does this mean? Well, it means that if this theory is true, maybe these creatures do have weaknesses and we just haven't thought of them. Okay, sure, some have tried thinking of ways to kill the Slender Man, but none of them have worked because for them, the being was created due to a specific description... namely, the creature being unstoppable.

So, what if someone was introduced to one of these monsters with the belief that they could be killed a certain way? In essence, they'd create a monster that they could kill... and get rid of the problem for us. I'm not going to try it myself because I've already killed enough people, but it's something to think about for the people attempting to destroy these things.

Tomorrow I'll try and make a post about what I've been up to, but no promises. I know I said I'd do it today, but I had to get that out of my head.

See you all tomorrow.

- Art

Safe (?) and a Recap

You know, I've been staring at this brand new laptop screen trying to think of something to say. "I'm back!" sounds a bit too childish, and ignoring what has happened is kind of a jerk move. Since my sanity is most certainly questionable, I might be better off recounting what's happened to me throughout this year.

That has the added benefit of bringing everyone up to speed, too. Awesome.

So, about a year and ten days ago, I started this blog with every intention of trying to help my writer's block. It worked for a little while, and I eventually attracted a bit of a following! That's when the weird stuff started to happen. I noticed that a few of my followers were into what I previously thought was an Internet meme: The Slender Man. I started to get into it, even started writing my own little short story featuring the faceless creep.

Not my brightest idea ever, but how could I know a lot of crap was about to happen? I didn't know about the shitstorm that was about to happen in my town. The first major event was my friend's dad disappearing, only to reappear and get killed soon after. I think I know what killed him, but more on that later.

Throughout that period of time, kids were disappearing. Though I found out later that I was so wrong about Slender Man taking them, this still had a tremendous impact on my psyche at the time.

The next thing I know, I'm having these dreams where I'm a kid again and finding bones in presents and shit like that. There was this one dream that had me going to a house in the middle of the woods, and later I found a place exactly like it. And that's when I had my first encounter with the damn monster. This was my first encounter with the Slender Sonuvabitch, and it was actually my only encounter for quite a few months. But that didn't stop me from being terrified, now did it? It didn't stop me from 'warning' people that their children were being abducted by a nicely-dressed bogeyman. Not many believed me, but some did - and that's when the disappearances started to happen. Disappearances that I caused. Yeah, that did a number for me, didn't it...

And then Charlie disappears off the face of the earth. I'm being serious, too! I talked to our friends, his parents, anyone that had any connection to him. It was like I had imagined him...

Oh, and some asshole named 'amiwhereallcry' started putting up anonymous comments on previous blog posts. (This was before he made the account he's been using to hijack my blog.) I started to connect the dots, and thought that maybe this son of a bitch was my own personal 'proxy' (the name for people controlled by the Slender Sonuvabitch), the painted hobo. Someone tried pretending to be him, and next thing I know, amiwhereallcry puts another video on his YouTube channel saying "not to do it again". Ever since then, no one's pretended to be him. I have a really bad feeling that someone who tried to screw with me ended up dead, so that's another life added to the count.

Then the motherfucker burned down my house. I don't know which one of them did it; it could have been the Slender Man and his "magical powers" (my God, that sounded so corny it brought back memories of The Sorcerer's Apprentice; DAMN IT!), or it could have been the hobo. However, I noticed that the dickhead with the warpaint on (no, really) seemed to be protecting me.

Oh, and did I mention the whispers? The damn whispers that almost drove me insane? Yeah...

Once people started disappearing, it had a ripple effect. Some paid more attention to what I said, and they went bye-bye, too. My fault, again.

So maybe that's why I feel like I deserved the attack around Halloween. You see, the thing that was causing the whispers - this ugly bastard people call the Rake - assaulted me and put me in the hospital for a few days. It wasn't anything major (aside from losing a lot of blood, which is kind of major? Not sure), but it still freaks me out.

Around Christmas time, I wanted to take a more offensive stance on the issue. I discovered that the whispers I had been hearing were a kind of subliminal messaging, trying to make me forget about... well, everything. Mostly just the other monster, though. And that's when I got my bright idea to tape the whispers and see if they worked on people that are being affected by the Slender Man. You know, maybe I could stop what I had started, right?

Then I had to announce it to the entire bloody world, leading to one of the final events of this wonderful chapter I like to call "The Fall of Arthur Pierce":

I was driven out of my home as I was being hunted by two paranormal creatures, one of which I planned on using against the other, while the other being kind of pissed off that I was about to cut off its food supply.

So, there you have it. A whole year's worth of stuff that's been going on in my life.

I plan on making another update tomorrow explaining what I've been up to and how I'm still alive, but until then...

- Art

P.S. Don't worry about the last post. It's a scare tactic being used by amiwhereallcry in order to draw me out. Trust me, my family and whatever friends I have left are safe.