Not So Empty After All

I hate to sound paranoid but I am. Really so often the choice has come down to paranoid or dead and I'm still here. That said, I'm also here, online, sending up a bright, loud signal flare for anyone who might want to see. I should bypass the metaphor this once, though, the method I'm using to send this out is one way and taxing, and I should be using this time to do more studying. All other conduits to the outside have been compromised or destroyed and other alternatives are either too risky or too permanent for me to commit to right now. It's strange though that my contact to the outside world was compromised almost immediately after I used it.


The word coincidence comes from the word "coincide" which means to exist in the same place as something else. In a sense everything in this City is a coincidence. In a sense nothing is.

Within 8 hours of my posting about "where" I was in the Empty City another individual found the library I was in and set up camp. As if a reminder that sometimes the choice is between paranoia and death, she immediately pulled a weapon and fired at me. I was smart enough not to get too close, but I fancy I have exactly the number of bullets I need and catching one from another gun wouldn't do me much good at this point.

She wasn't alone, either, the City is suddenly teeming with life. I've counted eight so far, they're all wearing the same kind of jackets and most I've noticed have masks. If it weren't for the timing of it all and the fact that most seem to have staked out sites where I've stayed I might think they were here under the banner of an old friend of mine. Maybe they are, but even that doesn't mean I should trust them. Several are setting up traps already, the Librarian isn't the only itchy trigger finger of the lot, and... well they're dangerous. Some more than others, but there's a pretty strong and diverse Fear influnce across the group. I'd give a lot for the ability to freely browse some blogs or send out an email right now, the difference between a coordinated team here to force me into a confrontation and a scattered collection of runners just trying to survive isn't one that can be determined at a glance, but it is important for how I approach them.

Not that I'd believe the emails or blogs.

It'd just be nice to have.

I suppose at least two have computer access, which means it's possibly they functionally all do. Regardless, an open statment here can't hurt. In fact I've said very little that can hurt, and mostly lied through my teeth about that. Standard M.O. and all that. Point is, if you can read this and you're in here with me. I mean you no harm. I mean you exactly as much harm as you mean me. I have been in the City for eight months and am intimately familar with each stronghold you've settled.

I see you
FC

Dark Reading

(Transcribed from Journal EC2)
Nightlanders Experiment 4

Forward Notes: The Nightlanders have continued to avoid directly interacting with me, but have remained a somewhat notable presence. Consult NL Experiments 1-3 or EC Field Notes 3-4, 7, 9-12, and 16.

Expirment Iteration 1: I transcribed the entirety of Journal DC1 (judged after long consideration to have the least accurate and therefore valuable information) into a new blank journal and then placed the origonal on the ground and shoved it forward towards a collection of Nightlanders.

Results 1: After aproximately seven minutes percieved time one of the Nightlanders moved forward and enveloped the book. I remainded 10 feet away with established secondary precautions for the duration, shifting my attention between the Nightlander and my transcribed copy of DC1. The Nightlander remained in place obscuring the physical aspects of the book [section omitted] for one hour and 16 minutes of percieved time. When it moved the origonal DC1 remaind and I retrieved it. Comparing it side by side against my transcribed copy and later notes from DC2-3 it appears as though several of my incorrect early assumptions and hypothesies had been partially corrected against both information I later aquired and entirely new facts. (The new facts have not been verified but were recorded into DC3 with notes indicating further testing is needed.) All changes to the origonal journal appear to be in my handwriting. No changes to the transcribed copy occured.

Iteration 2: Experiment repeated with the same two journals. At present there is no methodology to confirm or deny whether the same Nightlander interacted with the text.  (See notes under NL Experiment 9 in Journal EC4 but regard this note as functional for this experiment.) Experiment was carried out two hours of percieved time after the first iteration in the same location.

Results 2: Again interaction occured only after seven minutes of percieved time. I remained 10 feet away with established secondary precautions and shifted my attention between the Nightlander and my transcribed copy of DC1. This time the Nightlander only remained in place for 43 minutes of percieved time with the same obscruing and [section omitted]. This time every page of the origonal copy of DC1 was converted to a perfect black. High risk precations were observed in an initial test of the quality of the paper, but no abnormalities were found. DC1 (origonal) was stored with medium risk containment and DC1 (copy) was used to replace it in The Archive. Again no changes to the transcribed copy occured.

Iteration 3: Journal SM2 was selected and transcribed in its entirety (after determining much of its content redundant when held against journals SM1, SM3-7, and the online archive (currently inaccessible)). This time I placed the copy of SM2 on the ground and shoved it towards the Nightlanders while keeping the origonal on hand. Experiment was carried out 39 hours of percieved time after the second iteration in a visually identical location three block "right" of the origonal testing location.

Result 3: Again interaction occured after seven minutes of percieved time. I remainded 10 feet away with established secondary precautions for the duration, shifting my attention between the Nightlander and the origonal copy of SM2. This time the obscruing and [section omitted] lasted nine minutes of percieved time. I retrived SM2 (copy) and examined it. The entirty of the document had been alphabetized. An extensive count of the letters in SM2 (origonal) confirmed that the exact same number of "a"'s (968, a little over five pages worth) and "b"'s (153) appeared in both the origonal journal and the copy. The letters in SM2 (copy) were in my handwriting, but since I was not able to transcribe the origonal perfectly down to the letter style I cannot confirm that they appear in the order they were used. A more extensive count is still needed to confirm no letters were added or removed. No changes to the origonal journal occured this time.

Conclusions:

• Current established minimum precautions OR an aspect of The Archive prevent the Nightlanders from interacting with an object until it has lain free from influnce for seven minutes OR it takes seven minutes for Nightlanders to get within 10 feet of me and interact with things while established secondary precations are in place.
• Nightlanders seek out or enforce order, but "individual" Nightlanders have disperate views on what that means OR they are as intent as I am to test things in different ways.
• It can be possible to theorize on objectives of the Nightlanders, but devloping a catchall understand of their methods is unlikely.

• [section omitted]
• Nightlanders are capable of interacting on objects with increasing speed and effectiveness the more times they have seen the same or similar object.
• Nightlanders cannot effect the source material of something they're interacting with, nor copies of that thing, unless they interact with the source/copy seperately. (See Conclusions for NL Experiment 9 in EC4.)

Perpetual Disclaimer: As with all experiments I am testing forces that are also testing me, possibly with intent to manipulate. As such all conclusions are purely working theory. DO NOT ACT ON THESE UNLESS YOU HAVE TAKEN PROPER PRECAUTIONS OR ARE VERY DESPERATE. If you've found these journals and have no concept of what is described within return them to the exact place you found them and never return there unless you are desperate.

The City That Always Sleeps

I’m not sure how long I’ve been here. My last record from outside the Empty City indicates that it’s been about 8 months, if the post date on this computer is correct. I have no way to verify that, though. I’ve reached out, once or twice, other opportunities allowed me the chance to comment on other blogs, send emails, once or twice I even got to leave a physical message in the human world.


For all the good that did.


Really I’ve been out of the world for years. The Real World, the Runner World, a few others I’m not ready to talk about yet. I’ve been a ghost: on my own and out of the way except for the inescapable gravity of the Fears and a few choice moments of personal weakness. I guess this is another of those moments, The Empty City generally seems to have an agenda, and letting me reach out when it’s seen me reject the opportunity before is probably intentional.


Right now I’m in what one might generously call a library. There are tall wooden shelves reaching up to nearly the ceiling, and more of the same on the second floor, all arranged into neat little rows. I’ve scoured both floors and found a grand total of six books. Two on the first floor and four on the second. I claimed all of them before I came back to the collection of desks I’m sitting at now and tried turning on this computer.


I feel an opening. If I stopped right now and ran, out the door, right, left at the building with the chipped stone, up two flights of stairs, and through the window I could make it.

I could still make it.

It’s still open, but now it’s too late. It’ll close before I get there.


The name of this place is a misnomer, this “city” isn’t empty, it’s very very far from empty. I could step outside right now and look up and three blocks away I’d see a tower, stretching so tall into an empty sky I couldn’t make out its height. Stretching the height of the earth, probably.





The opening is gone now.





I’m going to queue up three more posts. An intro, a study, and if I can manage it a story. If I can find another computer before this month ends I’ll probably pull the story. It’s that sort of indecision that got me here, hell I think it’s what made me. But it’s also kept me alive, it’s given me tools and options I wouldn’t have. If you really need me follow the alphabet, but honestly… you’re probably safer where you are.

See you?

FC

The Rules

Before I go any further I want to point something out. I am going to lie to you.

Some of these lies will be my secrets, things that aren't important and don't matter to anyone but me. Some will be hints. Clues left behind because the only way you'll ever believe me is if you're proving me wrong. People suck like that. Finally some lies will be because there are things that once you learn you can't go back. Maybe I'm protecting you, maybe I'm just protecting myself. Either way pray you never discover those lies... or don't. Sometimes it doesn't matter.

The point is: I'm going to lie. Everyone lies.
This is rule #1.

Rule #2 is that eventually, however long we put it off, the truth comes out.

Looking for a new sign off,
FC

I couldn't think of a good title but this post is clearly a masterpeice that doesn't need one

Sorry for the lack of steady updates, but my internet access has been limited at best.  I've finally figured out the name of the town I'm in and it's general location, but for safety reasons I'm not in a sharing mood.  Not that it really matters much, I've been trying to stay out of sight anyways, keeping inside when there's people on the streets and staying in an old abandoned factory out of town.  This place is big enough that I doubt everyone here knows each other on sight, but still small enough that I worry about sticking out if I am seen.  I'm not sure if the fact that I'm now blind in my left eye helps me blend in better or not, on one hand hetrochromia is rare enough to be a pretty identifying trait, but on the other, it's not like wearing a bandage over half my face really is any less obvious.  Mostly I'm just trying to brush my hair so that it covers the left side of my face, since it's been over a year since I got a haircut this isn't too hard to do, the only tough part is living down the humiliation that this now officially makes me a "scene" kid.  Either way I haven't really been noticed to my knowledge, I move around mostly at night and avoid the unfortunately regular patrols by local law enforcement.


It does look like some damage was done here, one arson and one attempted arson, from what I can tell from the local papers, I'm not ready to take credit for those just yet, but from what I do remember from when Caged took control it wouldn't surprise me if I was responsible.  Also there's news of a man in the hospital who was tortured extensively, he had, among other injuries, his hands cut off, his eyes gouged out, and his tongue cut out.  I... I'm not happy about that, but it sounds like something Caged would enjoy, it leaves the victim mentally and physically scarred, with no easy way of communicating who did it too him.  I... He would pull something like that sometimes, and then just show up in the hospital and whisper in the persons ear, enjoying there panic when they realized who he was.  That wasn't even the worst that was done, once he...

You know what, no.  I am not going into that.  There are some things I'm just not capable of reliving, even if I was techinally the tormentor, there's some things no one should ever have to endure.


The point is, Caged came here for a reason, and as much as I want to get out of here I'd like to know what that reason is.  For now I'm just fishing old newspapers out of trash cans and trying to read them during the day.  I'm also trying to do some research, they have a library here that isn't too tough to break into, there's like a special room with documents on the towns history or something that has a fancy alarm system, but I don't really need anything out of there.  Mostly I'm focusing on anything that looks like paranormal or supernatural fiction, I don't expect to find any actual history books on the Fears or anything, but some stories hold a grain of truth, maybe if I can find something that sounds like either Phillip or the tall guy himself I'll be able to get my advantage back somehow.  I haven't had much success, the library's selection on what I'm looking for is limited, but I did fond this one little book that's filled with short childish stories that feels more, well, Eldridge, than your average bedtime story.  Picture Brothers Grimm crossed with H.P. Lovecraft, it's pretty strange, but the closest I've found that has any potential, so I "borrowed" it for my daytime reading.

All in all I've been pretty lucky, the police here seem on edge, but no one's found my current location, I haven't seen Slender Man in the almost two weeks I've been here, and while I've seen Phillip twice he didn't seem to notice me either time.  Though it was strange because the second time I saw him there were several normal people walking around not noticing him, then again, the same thing has happened with Mr. Talls, too, so I guess I can't be that surprised.  In any case that's about all I have that's relevant I have to share,  I'll try to get on more often but as it is I'm lucky to get any internet.  Hopefully staying here won't turn out to be a big mistake.

An Explanation

So yesterday the always friendly Fracture asked me a question anyone still reading this has probably asked: How did I come back from being well... "uncaged"?  Believe it or not I've been working on this post for a little while now, but at the moment I'm trying to balance lots of things and so I don't have quite as much time as I used to to just sit down and shoot out a post.  Still, it's something that deserves an answer if any of you are to believe I actually did make a comeback, so I'm going to try to explain how I managed it.


Like I already said in the comment to Fracture, I was more or less expecting what happened the night I tried to stop Phillip and let Elizabeth get away, in fact I had kind of been counting on it for a while.  Anyone with an attention span probably realized that over time I was getting... let's say darker, and that I was posting less and less as "Free."  The reason for that is that I was actively shutting down as much of that part of my personality as I could, right from the very beginning, suppressing it so that when I was ultimately... redesigned it would be so far buried that Mr. Talls would either not find it or not bother erasing it.  It's not easy to shut down your thought processes and hide them from the rest of your mind, it takes a lot of focus and determination, the easiest thing to do (and mind you it's still tough) is to identify which events in your life were most central to shaping who you are, and associate them with a trigger, so that seeing or hearing a specific thing would bring them to the front of your mind, and then occupy your thoughts with everything except that one specific memory the second you are no longer focused on the trigger.  To understand how hard that is lets try some practice: Think of something, anything you like, don't even bother with finding a trigger right now.  Now, think of everything except that one thing, empty it completely from your mind and fill your head with thoughts that have nothing to do with that.  Yeah, that's about as easy as it gets, i don't even feel like describing where I went after I got the hang of that.


Anyways my first trick was the most obvious: I hide from Caged on his own blog.  Among the delusional ranting and pointless emotions I was able to hide messages to myself; stupid, simple reminders of who I was, hidden in Morse code in the commas and periods so "meaninglessly" thrown about, even Caged didn't notice, he merely celebrated a little bit as more and more pieces of Free were buried there each time he posted.  I had anticipated him returning and using that blog once I got dealt with, meaning he would be exposed to the hidden messages and buried memories right away.  Clearly that was my first mistake.

The next thing I tried to hide myself in was the music I occasionally posted.  This was easier for me to do, so I tried hiding more complicated things there, more important memories, specific ideas, and towards the end actual thought patterns.  It was never intended to bring me back the way my messages on Cage's blog were, only supplement me once I had control.  Unfortunately I was less cautious about hiding them from him as a result, I was able to hide a lot in those, but I also lost a lot I tried to hide there, too.  They were hidden too obviously, too sloppily, and that was my second mistake, and it cost me a lot.

I had planned to continue on with just those two methods, and maybe a few other, subtler ones, but my hand was forced too soon, I had to be myself to have the nerve to take a stand against him, but I needed some final thing to focus my mind into, some final trigger to call me back when I was to be sent out as His servant. So I made my final mistake: I chose the gun.  The same one I took from that runner, and used to kill Joshua, and try to stop Phillip.  At the time I thought it would be easy to recover, and that when released into the world again Caged would get it quickly to have a usable weapon.  Unfortunately Caged got Phillip, and didn't really need any weapons after that, and Shade took the gun anyways.  I... used that gun to kill him.  After seven months of harassing Shade and North, while I killed, tortured, and.... worse... my way through anyone who got in my way... I... Caged, I guess- I don't even know if I can say what he was in the end was really a part of me- finally took back the gun and killed him.  At that point I think it was actually a good thing.  He had suffered so much because of me, even before Caged took control, and one clean shot to the head put him out of his misery.  North... wasn't so lucky, "Father" was there to take care of him, he tried charging me after I shot Shade but the Slender Man just... fuck, I can't even relive that right now...  But that moment, that was enough for me to get just a little bit of a grip on Caged, and start pushing him back towards the other triggers I had set up.


I led him to his blog, and to the music, and slowly I started creeping back in.  But he fought me, all that time without the rest of me to balance him out he grew into something smarter and darker and stronger than he ever was before.  I won, but not before he managed to do a lot of damage, most of it which I can't even remember right now.  But now I'm back, I have him under control again and I'm not suppressing myself or letting him take over again, it's not worth it.  No matter how much stronger his voice is now, I have him beat, and he's only the first of my demons that I'm going to defeat.

Update

Ok, so, I really have no clue where to begin, everything is pretty fucked up at this point.  First off, at least some of the blood was mine, someone, maybe me, did a serious number on my face.  Most of the cuts aren't too deep and will probably fade in a few weeks, but it looks like my left eye was almost gouged out, I can't see out of it and it hurts like hell, I've bandaged it up as well as I can, but I can't really do anything about it right now.

I have no idea where I am or what my current local reputation is.  Well not, no idea, I'm in a house, it's abandoned, but it looks like someone lived here recently, which I'm not taking as a particuiarly good sign. It's in a pretty rural area, which is not comforting to me at the moment, but it might help me slip away unnoticed later tonight.  I get the feeling staying here isn't a great long term plan, so as soon as can get out saftely and unseen I'm gone.  There's a backpack here that Caged has used some and enough food, money, and clothes to last me for a little while, so I won't starve or freeze to death.


I've gone down my reading list and it looks like pretty much everybody I might have tenatively considered a potential ally is either dead or not talking anymore, with very few exceptions.  This really sucks, but it doesn't really change my situation much, they would have had no reason to trust or help me anyways.  Still, it just, it doesn't feel right.


And now for the really bad part: it's not just last week that's missing.  There are lots of gaps in my memory now that weren't there before.  I know for a fact some of those things were important, I knew Caged was going to take over, but it wasn't supposed to be for anywhere near this long.  When I didn't take control back I started losing things, and all the most important knowledge I had, all of the strongest weapons I had in my mind, have faded away.  I have no bargining chips anymore, no way through and no way out.  I'm not an important peice in the game anymore, I'm just another pawn.  Maybe that's all I ever was, but I don't even have any illusions about who I am now, and it's probably only a matter of time before good old Slender Man, or Phillip, or victim with a grudge, or one of any number of creatures of the night come to pick me off and be done with it.

...

I think I'm going to die this year, but I don't care.  Because no matter how this goes down, no matter how I go down, I'm not going quietly.