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
Showing posts with label back from the dead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label back from the dead. Show all posts
April 25, 2018
February 17, 2013
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.
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.
April 21, 2012
Something,. Improved...
How do I start this, I'm still so amazed, in awe. This was beyond anything I had truly expected, beyond anything I could have ever predicted. And I was there, at the start of something so... breathtaking, oh this is the start of something incredible my friends, take note of where you are, because this changes everything. I should start at the beginning, no point in spoiling such an incredible surprise without the proper buildup, is there?
It should not be an enormous surprise that I've had more than one of my midnight talks with the Slender Man and Phillip on the nature reserve. But tonight was different. It started out the same as it has so many times before, I arrived after Phillip, and then without warning he appeared before us, taller than ever before, looming over our heads with the sliver of the moon illuminating the tree behind him ever so faintly. Phillip knelt as he always does, he was dirty and weary, having not left the woods in over a week now. Yet still, as he knelt a sense of calm drew over his face, he knew this was where he belonged, and soon, so would I. The air that had been warm and humid just moments before was now cold and dry, but completely still. It was as though the elements themselves had calmed themselves, completely ceased there activity in honor of what was taking place. I stood, as I always have, a few feet behind Phillip: watching, waiting, and learning.
The first hint that something was going to be different happened when He moved. The Slender Man took two steps forward and placed a single hand on his shoulder and looked down at Phillip, and in return Phillip stared up into the eyeless face of something so much greater than any of us. He has been speaking to me less and less, and more and more quietly, to the point where I barely hear him at all when he does choose to speak, but when The Slender Man snapped his head up to look at me I knew he was instructing me with one simple task.
Watch
And that's when it all began. The Slender Man seemed to grow even taller and the tentacles began to pour out of his back, pulsing and writhing. They grew and multiplied until I could barely even see Him, just a pale face and a hand on Phillip's shoulder, surround by a mass of moving shifting blackness. Without warning one of the tentacles shot through his chest. I expected him to start bleeding from the wound, but instead a black oily substance began flowing from the hole. The appendage withdrew and I could see straight through Phillip's back. But that wasn't the end of it, The Slender Man had barely begun. A thinner tentacle snaked it's way around over the same shoulder that the Slender Man was still holding on to, across Phillip's back, over his neck, and up his check. It seemed to stay there for a moment, almost as if it was comforting Phillip. Then his neck snapped.
I could now see Phillips face, and as I watched more and more tentacles can forward and washed over his body, mapping themselves across him like veins. Then they all began pulsing, drawing from him all that was human, Phillip began convulsing and writhing, his mind was already dead, but his body still tried to reject what was happening. Tears of blood began streaming from his eyes as they grew cloudy and yellow, losing any resemblance to human eyes. The color drained from his skin until it was a uniform white, and then it started getting darker. Splotches of black and grey appeared across his face and arms, quickly dissipating and spreading across the rest of his skin in veins. And still He wasn't finished, more and more tentacles came and surrounded Phillip, consuming him until I could see nothing else.
Eventually the tentacles started pulling back, The Slender Man recalling them as he returned to his original form. Soon He was just a man in a suit again, standing with His hand on Phillips shoulder. But it wasn't Phillip anymore, all that was Phillip was gone. What remained was beyond human, All the fat and waste had been replaced with lean muscle, the eyes had been completely changed, removed of the iris and pupil, no more windows necessary, it was a body that housed no soul. And the skin, what was once soft and malleable was now hard as stone, yet somehow, still flexible to allow movement. The color was gone, replaced by a dark grey, literally glowing with power. In an instant it was standing, and so quickly I could barely follow with my eyes it had disappeared deeper into the woods.
I stood there in silent shock, unsure of what to do, unsure of what I could do. I looked at the Slender Man, a being of such power that it could create that out of what had once been human, and I did the only thing that occurred to me. I knelt.
I think it's about time I made a decision.
It should not be an enormous surprise that I've had more than one of my midnight talks with the Slender Man and Phillip on the nature reserve. But tonight was different. It started out the same as it has so many times before, I arrived after Phillip, and then without warning he appeared before us, taller than ever before, looming over our heads with the sliver of the moon illuminating the tree behind him ever so faintly. Phillip knelt as he always does, he was dirty and weary, having not left the woods in over a week now. Yet still, as he knelt a sense of calm drew over his face, he knew this was where he belonged, and soon, so would I. The air that had been warm and humid just moments before was now cold and dry, but completely still. It was as though the elements themselves had calmed themselves, completely ceased there activity in honor of what was taking place. I stood, as I always have, a few feet behind Phillip: watching, waiting, and learning.
The first hint that something was going to be different happened when He moved. The Slender Man took two steps forward and placed a single hand on his shoulder and looked down at Phillip, and in return Phillip stared up into the eyeless face of something so much greater than any of us. He has been speaking to me less and less, and more and more quietly, to the point where I barely hear him at all when he does choose to speak, but when The Slender Man snapped his head up to look at me I knew he was instructing me with one simple task.
Watch
And that's when it all began. The Slender Man seemed to grow even taller and the tentacles began to pour out of his back, pulsing and writhing. They grew and multiplied until I could barely even see Him, just a pale face and a hand on Phillip's shoulder, surround by a mass of moving shifting blackness. Without warning one of the tentacles shot through his chest. I expected him to start bleeding from the wound, but instead a black oily substance began flowing from the hole. The appendage withdrew and I could see straight through Phillip's back. But that wasn't the end of it, The Slender Man had barely begun. A thinner tentacle snaked it's way around over the same shoulder that the Slender Man was still holding on to, across Phillip's back, over his neck, and up his check. It seemed to stay there for a moment, almost as if it was comforting Phillip. Then his neck snapped.
I could now see Phillips face, and as I watched more and more tentacles can forward and washed over his body, mapping themselves across him like veins. Then they all began pulsing, drawing from him all that was human, Phillip began convulsing and writhing, his mind was already dead, but his body still tried to reject what was happening. Tears of blood began streaming from his eyes as they grew cloudy and yellow, losing any resemblance to human eyes. The color drained from his skin until it was a uniform white, and then it started getting darker. Splotches of black and grey appeared across his face and arms, quickly dissipating and spreading across the rest of his skin in veins. And still He wasn't finished, more and more tentacles came and surrounded Phillip, consuming him until I could see nothing else.
Eventually the tentacles started pulling back, The Slender Man recalling them as he returned to his original form. Soon He was just a man in a suit again, standing with His hand on Phillips shoulder. But it wasn't Phillip anymore, all that was Phillip was gone. What remained was beyond human, All the fat and waste had been replaced with lean muscle, the eyes had been completely changed, removed of the iris and pupil, no more windows necessary, it was a body that housed no soul. And the skin, what was once soft and malleable was now hard as stone, yet somehow, still flexible to allow movement. The color was gone, replaced by a dark grey, literally glowing with power. In an instant it was standing, and so quickly I could barely follow with my eyes it had disappeared deeper into the woods.
I stood there in silent shock, unsure of what to do, unsure of what I could do. I looked at the Slender Man, a being of such power that it could create that out of what had once been human, and I did the only thing that occurred to me. I knelt.
I think it's about time I made a decision.
See you around
Caged
November 6, 2011
A Return
The blogger A has returned! Now some of you may not know who this is, I myself have never actually seen any of his actual work as his previous blog (Defining) seems to have been mostly erased, but it seems he is back after over a year of silence. I have no idea what A is actually like, I honestly haven't looked into him all that much, but from what I have discerned he was once someone important, and so I will, of course, be watching to see what this develops into. Of further interest he claims that he is "Going to kill the Slender Man", wonderful, it's not like anyone has ever tried that before... I could provide more links, but you get the point. Also his URL is "overcoming my humanity", which is daunting or concerning in the slightest. I don't know why I'm complaining, if he succeeds than maybe my life can be just a little less dark, and I can spend less time trying to make a decision that will eventually kill me. Who knows, maybe he knows something I don't, maybe he knows something I do, wouldn't that be interesting, but regardless I'm sure all will be revealed in time, and it looks like it should be interesting until that point anyways.
Anyway, because I didn't start this blog to outline the specifics, I'd like to turn this to a more general topic: Zombies. Seriously though, it seems as though some of you people just can't stay dead, and I'd like to explore why that is. We all know the Tall Guy likes hunting his prey for a very long time before moving in for the kill, some people have gone years before finally being killed, now I have several theories on why that is, but I'm not exactly at liberty to discuss all of them, so we'll just focus on how this effects someone's survival chances in other high risk scenarios. It seems like many times He will just leave someone for dead rather than killing them himself, giving them a chance to survive exclusively through the force of will. I believe that being hunted by such a fear inducing creature gives people a sense of determination that fades only when faced by the Man himself. It is this new found determination and desperation that allows people to push through events that would have left them helpless and resigned to their fates prior to their stalking. In short, because they have already been through so much, surviving some of these incredible circumstances isn't as big of a leap as it once was.
I have a little more to say on this subject, but I have a draft for an essay due tom arrow and I've been putting it off for weeks, so I'm going to leave off here for now.
Right, so I'm finally updating this, good for me, I need to get a cookie later to celebrate. But first I'd like to go ahead and reiterate what some of the comments below have already said: Many times we have no way of knowing weather or not a person really died. Heck in the Messenger's List of the Deceased there is a second list filled with people who might be dead. It can be difficult confirming the death of a hunted (new term of mine, it's faster than typing runner/fighter, this is the only time I'll clarify), so many people are spread out, and when the one unifier we have is the interned it can be tough finding someone who actually identify the body. Also I'd like to refer you back to the sacred Rule #1, while this is for me, it is important to remember that just because one person says they saw someone die doesn't mean you can trust them on that. It's things like this that make it hard to be sure of a persons death, and thus make it more common to see such people return.
Also I'd like to address the possibility of supernatural resurrections. Yes, yes, let us all sigh and roll our eyes at this thoroughly absurd notion, in fact, lets do it in unison 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... go. Good, now that that's out of the way let's all remember what we're dealing with here: a supernatural creature whose origins, motives, and powers are largely unknown. Things like someone genuinely coming back from the dead should surprise none of us at this point, as virtually everything else has been done already. Of course the ramifications of such developments should not be taken lightly, either, anyone who has truly been revived has likely undergone a tremendous psychological metamorphosis, regardless of weather or not that was the intention of the resurrector.
Well, that's all I've got, sorry it wasn't full of danger, excitement, and intrigue, but hey, this is an analysis blog, not an action one. I promise if I ever decide to be interesting again I'll let you guys know. I hope it was at least informative, and not mind-numbingly boring.
Anyway, because I didn't start this blog to outline the specifics, I'd like to turn this to a more general topic: Zombies. Seriously though, it seems as though some of you people just can't stay dead, and I'd like to explore why that is. We all know the Tall Guy likes hunting his prey for a very long time before moving in for the kill, some people have gone years before finally being killed, now I have several theories on why that is, but I'm not exactly at liberty to discuss all of them, so we'll just focus on how this effects someone's survival chances in other high risk scenarios. It seems like many times He will just leave someone for dead rather than killing them himself, giving them a chance to survive exclusively through the force of will. I believe that being hunted by such a fear inducing creature gives people a sense of determination that fades only when faced by the Man himself. It is this new found determination and desperation that allows people to push through events that would have left them helpless and resigned to their fates prior to their stalking. In short, because they have already been through so much, surviving some of these incredible circumstances isn't as big of a leap as it once was.
Right, so I'm finally updating this, good for me, I need to get a cookie later to celebrate. But first I'd like to go ahead and reiterate what some of the comments below have already said: Many times we have no way of knowing weather or not a person really died. Heck in the Messenger's List of the Deceased there is a second list filled with people who might be dead. It can be difficult confirming the death of a hunted (new term of mine, it's faster than typing runner/fighter, this is the only time I'll clarify), so many people are spread out, and when the one unifier we have is the interned it can be tough finding someone who actually identify the body. Also I'd like to refer you back to the sacred Rule #1, while this is for me, it is important to remember that just because one person says they saw someone die doesn't mean you can trust them on that. It's things like this that make it hard to be sure of a persons death, and thus make it more common to see such people return.
Also I'd like to address the possibility of supernatural resurrections. Yes, yes, let us all sigh and roll our eyes at this thoroughly absurd notion, in fact, lets do it in unison 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... go. Good, now that that's out of the way let's all remember what we're dealing with here: a supernatural creature whose origins, motives, and powers are largely unknown. Things like someone genuinely coming back from the dead should surprise none of us at this point, as virtually everything else has been done already. Of course the ramifications of such developments should not be taken lightly, either, anyone who has truly been revived has likely undergone a tremendous psychological metamorphosis, regardless of weather or not that was the intention of the resurrector.
Well, that's all I've got, sorry it wasn't full of danger, excitement, and intrigue, but hey, this is an analysis blog, not an action one. I promise if I ever decide to be interesting again I'll let you guys know. I hope it was at least informative, and not mind-numbingly boring.
See you around
FreedomCaged
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)