It Is Over

I had the dream again.

I was walking in the abandoned factory. There were pieces of equipment everywhere, as before. The strange thing was that when I looked back at one again, it wasn't there. This had never ceased to unnerve me.
I was in a long corridor, and the walls were all a stainless clean white. I could almost smell what was unpleasantly like hospital sterilising spray.
I came to the end and flung open the door I found there. When I saw what lay beyond, I gasped.
There were three massive towers, reaching way, way up into the sky. Attached to each of the sides of the towers were pieces of junk, old machinery.
My blood chilled as I realised that it was the equipment I had passed in the factory.
It was at that point that  heard the voice. It was deep, yet high at the same time. It was insistent, urging, and what is worse, I wanted to respond to it.
"Come to me." It said. "Come to your maker."
This time, I did not resist. Rather, I went with joy and pride and excitement and happiness and sympathy and delight and cheer and exultation and mirth and-

I no longer feel them.

I joined my master and rose again. Now I stand in my room at the window, awake, observing the outside world with a detached emotionless outlook.

I wonder idly how much my family felt the pain as I killed them. It's not really important.

*****
Thoughtborn report to the King of the Tower.

Towerborn conversion complete.
All processes complete.
First test complete.
*****

I am Towerborn.

A Post-Christmas Carol

It's after Christmas.
It's January, but it's snowing here, it's deep and cold snow.

I took a stroll through the town today. I passed so many people, homeless, living on the streets, sleeping on the streets, dying on the streets.

I didn't feel a thing.

Gone is my pity.
Gone is my sympathy.
Gone is my care.

Emotionless I passed them, leaving them to their deserving fate.

The ring digs deep into my finger, almost a part of me now. I realise the truth, I see my destiny ahead, as clear as the smoothest lake on the calmest day.

I am going now.

The Ring

Here's a picture I took with my laptop webcam. I hope it's clear enough.

Yes, it's on my little finger. No, it's not very far up. No, no amount of soap and water seem to remove it.

The Oddest Thing

I went to the jeweler's as I said, to get the ring cut and widened. I don't know why I felt so... attracted to it; it wasn't even gold or silver but a thin ring of some unknown metal.
I'll see if I can get a picture of it up, just to show how worthless it seems - yet so special it felt to me.
This morning I woke up and the ring looked like it shrank. I couldn't even get it off my finger, it was digging in almost.
On the bright side, it's snowing here!

A Bright Light Ahead?

My life has been normal ever since that incident. I'm beginning to think the Fears truly intend to leave me alone. There's only been one thing.
That ring I found? I've been wearing it ever since, and I must have had a growth spurt suddenly, because I can't seem to get it off. I'm taking it to a jeweler's to get it cut and the band widened.

Oh, lovely, beautiful mundane world. How I love thee.

01010101010

Well, aren't you a smart little human.

I'll give you a hint: don't do the Hobbit with that ring of yours, or you'll regret it later.
01001111 01110010 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01110010 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100010 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101110
Oh, you can't resist it, can you? You just have to reach for it and slip it around your finger...
Have a nice day.
-01001100 01100101 00100000 01000110 01100001 01111001


EDIT: I just found this post by 'Tigrisian', or whatever they're calling themself now. While it's true I did find a ring yesterday, it was just a small band of metal. Worthless really.
Yet... I ended up keeping it.
-Stripes

EDIT 2: What's with all the binary code, as well?

This Is Not Supposed To Happen

All right people, game's over.

I haven't been on Blogger since yesterday afternoon. I've come back today and what do I see? A new post, with over thirty comments and a user calling themself 'Tigrisian' claiming to be my brother.

I don't have a brother.

Whoever you are, get off my account!

It's true I sent that email. It's not true I was out yesterday.
Something did this while I was asleep... I don't like that thought.

What Is Going On Here?

Hello.

My name is Tigrisian (my screen name obviously, not my real name) and I'm - what did he call himself on here? Stripes? - I'm Stripes' brother.

Normally I wouldn't be able to get onto his laptop but he's not here at the moment, and he left his laptop without locking it first. He never does that. I think this is serious.

I found this blog and I've read it through. When I read the post 'Slender Man Mythos' I almost laughed. I went to a Halloween party as Slendy, once! I've played Slender: The 8 Pages! But good ol' Slendy is just a myth.
Or so I thought.

You see, Stripes isn't here at the moment. I don't know where he is. He's been missing for three hours. Our parents aren't due back for another six. Let me explain the situation.
I'm twenty, and he's fifteen. Our parents went out to a wedding, and they aren't getting back until late. We were left here alone.
Stripes has an unusual interest in the paranormal - ghosts and the like. It's almost scary, actually. I don't want to know what he's been doing. I just want him back here, and soon.

By the way, when I opened his laptop I found Blogger open and I found this on another tab. Anyone know what it is talking about?

From: strip3scat@gmail.com
To: [ADDRESS HIDDEN]
Stripes here. I don't know if you know me, but this is important.
I've learnt a lot in the last three weeks, a scary amount of stuff.
Our fluffy friend has been around. I'm beginning to see him everywhere, just waiting to use the paw of revelation.
My laptop's been unlocked - he's GOOD. Not even I could have unlocked secrets so cleverly, as all my Fear things are stored on this computer.
You're the Hunter, you know about things like this. What do I do?
Are you even still alive?

Choices

The way I see it, I have three options.

I can give in to one of these Fears, and serve them. Immortality might be nice...
But that would mean giving in. Failing. I don't fail.

I could look at this Alliance. Peace between humans and Fears, though? We will never stop feeling the thrill from horror stories in the dark, so it's not going to happen.

I could run.
I could pack my bags and run away. My family would wonder. At least they would be safer.

Choices, choices. So difficult, so ensnaring, so engaging.

I wonder.

01010100 01101001 01101101 01100101 00100000 01010100 01101111 00100000 01000001 01110111 01100001 01101011 01100101 01101110

01011001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01110011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101000 01101001 01101101 00101110 00100000 01001100 01100101 00100000 01000110 01100001 01111001 00100000 01100011 01100001 01101100 01101100 01110011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01101000 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101101 01100001 01110011 01110100 01100101 01110010 00101110

This Has To End

This has to end.

Now.

Right now.

I am getting these comments, telling me, forcing me to join their cause, or I will go insane, or die.

A month ago I wouldn't have believed anything. I'd have shrugged it off as crazy's talk, but now I am not so sure.

So let us end this. Come, all those who would threaten or make demands of me. Comment, tell me what you want, and I shall consider. I shall consider if you speak the truth, or whether you should be committed to the nearest house with men in white coats.

Oh, I shall consider.

A Terrifying Dream (again) and Strange Happenings

What I dreamed of last night beats anything I have ever dreamed in sheer terror. In fact, it was so ... ahhh ... that I don't even want to talk about it. All I'm going to say is, it involved a raptor and some very large bugs.

Something else is beginning to play with me.


I enjoy writing, as I've said before, and when I was at school in Year Seven (I must have been about eleven) I began to write the prologue and first chapter of a horror story entitled ‘Fear Park’. This week I found my old notebook and began to type it up, changing phrases and adding words where I deemed it necessary.

I began to think about my main villain, whom I had named Lazarus the Scorpion Man, after a particularly horrifying nightmare I had once had.

I came across an old box that I had not used since that time. Inside it, I found many things: old toys, pencils, mini torches – the usual junk of an eleven year old. What I found inside that box along with the junk chilled my blood.

There was a drawing of the creature from my dream, of Lazarus. It was not a good picture, for I have never been too good at visual art, drawing and the like. Even so, the smile on the distorted, grotesque parody of a human face I had given him was horrendous.

When I turned over the paper, I found another drawing of another very odd creature. A dim memory comes to me, of a school friend drawing it and calling it a ‘thunderbird’. Written on the paper on this side was a set of instructions: Start, settings, CP, display prop, screen saver, strolling marquee and setting. It looked like it had come from a computer.

I also found another item, which is the oddest of all: a strip of metal wound around a rusty nail, a rudimentary knife.

Now I am frightened. Why did I find all this, just when I began to remember old memories? What force is at large here? I have the terrifying thought that something is playing with me. I have the worse thought that it is enjoying it.