Saturday, August 20, 2011

Memento Mori

I don't expect to survive this. I'm at the point where I'm measuring my life in hours.

I'm in an apartment building. I can no longer access the City. I can hear a sound above me-- knives scraping against the floor. It's the Rake.

I look out the window and I can see my former master-- Slender Man, might as well call him what he is-- standing out there, watching me. People pass by as if he's not even there, oblivious to him. One group of people moves oddly, their limbs loose, their movements strangely exaggerated. The Wooden Girl's dolls.

I look out another window and Judgment is there. I remember he said something about his sins burning him up soon, and I see now what he meant. I can't even recognize Sleight's body anymore; it's so decrepit looking, like he's aged 60 years in the span of a week.

I hear whispers, telling me to just give it all up, and a gray blur moves in the corner of my eye. I don't know why the Choir is after me, but there are a lot of things I don't know.

And I can feel the Ichor within me, spreading. I cut myself on a nail about an hour ago, and no blood came out. Only clear fluid. It won't be long now.

One way or another, I am going to die soon.

And you know what? I'm OK with that.

In the past few months, I went from just some random, insignificant college student to a supernaturally sponsored murderer. I've killed people without hesitation, and afterward I'd come up with justifications for it, and I'd try to ignore that feeling in the back of my head that what I'm doing is wrong. I'd try to block the inevitable nightmares from invading my sleep. I'd try and try, but to no avail.

Guilt is the punishment for our sins, and I feel little else these days.

But my sins end tonight. I have no intention of becoming a puppet. Not again.

So, all you monsters, all you horrific abominations? What are you waiting for?

I've got a machete on my right and a shotgun on my left. First prize goes to the one who brings me down.

My name is Joseph Amory Steward, and I'm ready for you.

So come and get me.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Oh God Judgement was waiting for me in the City. I just stepped through the Door and there he was with a knife in his hand, shouting about how horrible I am.

Horrible. Horrible. I'm a horrible person.

Killed people. Dead because of me.

Couldn't protect Crystal or Glorius or Acedia or Lexi.

He was my one companion. The voice in my mind that kept me company. He made sure I was never alone. If I was good and loyal, I'd never be alone again. Why did He betray me abandon me why why kill me kill me kill me kill me liklle m,emkkille m eme be


I can feel it inside of me.

It's like some kind of slime, slithering through my veins. I feel a need, no, an obsession, with, of all things, counting the hairs on my arms. I keep losing count and having to start over.

This is the favor, isn't it? The debt I owe to the Ichor. It's coming to collect. It's infested me, and now it's replacing my bodily fluids with its own ink.

Soon, I'll lose myself. I'll become a Camper, just another limb of the Ichor.

Maybe it's what I deserve.

Thursday, August 18, 2011


I can't use the Path anymore, but it seems that I'm still Marked, so I can travel through the City.

To those offering to help, thanks, but trust me: you don't want the things chasing me to come knocking on your door. No amount of magic or connections will save you from them.

By my count, I have about five godlike entities after me. If I get near you, there's no way you'll be able to protect yourself.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The Battle in the Bay

Here's what happened.

I rented a boat and went out to the coordinates Master gave me. I waited there for an hour before He appeared on the deck.

The Rake appeared a few minutes later.

It looked right at Master, and it smiled at him. Like it had won something. And then it turned its attention to me. Those eyes-- those horrible, pitch black, but perfectly intelligent eyes-- took me in, and I felt something emanate from them. Expectation.

A command floated into my mind. A command from Master. I was to walk to the Rake.

I was tribute.

Whatever deal they'd worked out, my life was part of it. I couldn't even move. Fear held my body rigid.

The command came again, stronger this time, and I found myself stepping forward. Toward that thing.

And then there was gunfire.

The Rake's right eye exploded and reared back in rage and pain. I watched, dumbstruck, as its eye reformed on its face, and it turned to look in the direction of the shots. I followed its gaze and saw another boat approaching us. More gunfire rang out, and more bullets pummeled the Rake's body.

I started to walk toward the other boat, but found that I couldn't. Black tentacles held me back. Master had no intention of letting me get away.

I ducked down-- the tentacles gave me enough leeway to do that, at least-- and watched as bullets began to slam into Master's body. They made little splashes, little ripples like they were going through water, and Master stood there, unharmed, quietly watching as the boat approached.

It must have gotten close enough, because I saw people leaping onto our own boat, brandishing knives and machetes and hatchets... It took me only a moment to figure out who they were. The movement of their limbs gave them away. Dolls.

And then the tentacles were gone, and I saw Master burst into a thousand tendrils of darkness, lashing out at all the dolls near him. One's head flew clean off, another took a slash across his stomach.

But even dead, their bodies continued to move, continued to attack, controlled by invisible strings.

I crawled across the deck and dimly realized that the Rake had fled the scene. Evidently he didn't want to be caught in the chaos it had brought on.

I stood and prepared to leap off the boat.

I felt something cut against my back.

I screamed as a slash of heat arced through me and warm sticky blood seeped down my body. I spun around to face my attacker.

Charlotte stood there, a bloody knife in her hand, grinning at me. "Hey there, Stew-stew. Bye-bye." She slashed at me again, and I ducked to the side. Then I found myself have to scramble away as quickly as I could. The girl was fast. There was no way someone her age could move so quickly, with such accurate strikes.

And abruptly, all sound of battle ceased. Charlotte froze in place, dropped her knife, and fell to her knees. She brought her face to the floor and stayed in that position. I turned to see who she was bowing to.

Just four feet away from where I sat, Master and the Wooden Girl stood face to face with eachother.

The Wooden Girl moved first, striking out with a knife in her right hand. Master deflected it with a humanoid arm that extended from the blackness that comprised his body. The strings around the Wooden Girl unwound themselves and flew at Master, wrapping around what limbs they could and trying to pull Him to the ground.

A futile effort. He merely slid out of the strings as if His body were smoke, and a tentacle lashed out from somewhere deep within His body. This wasn't like the other ones I'd seen. The smoky, inky tendrils of blackness. No, this one looked... it looked like it had actual substance.

It crashed against the Wooden Girl, and wrapped around her. I felt something in my mind, like snarl of rage, and then fire spewed forth from the depths of Master's body and down the length of that tentacle. The fire spread out and consumed the Wooden Girl.

And then she did something I never thought I'd see her do.

The Wooden Girl screamed.

The sound seemed to almost break and tear itself, and for an instant I could see a vast void of nothingness surround the two Entities, and then it was all over, and Master let the charred corpse of his opponent crash to the deck.

I was just beginning to relax when another scream tore through the air. I spun around and saw Charlotte, now in her feet, he back arced and her eyes wide in pain and terror. She screamed and screamed as her flesh began to split apart. And from beneath her skin, wood emerged.

It grew out of her, and it continued to grow, covering all of her. Her screams finally cut off as the wood grew over her mouth. For a moment the wooden shape before me simply stood there, and then shapes began to appear on it, as if painted by an invisible hand.

A puppets face soon looked straight at me, a painted on smile taking me in, and then the Wooden Girl vanished in a burst of power. I was thrown backward, and the last thing I remember before passing out was cold water coming over me.

I woke up on the beach an hour before dawn, and went to the first safehouse I could think of.

I've been running since.
I can't stop for long. I have to keep moving. I'll explain later.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011


Been hanging in the area. Tonight's the night Master faces him.

So many memories... I've been walking around my old neighborhood. Someone else is living in my old house now. I guess they don't mind living in a place where a family was murdered.

Were they my family? Sometimes I find it hard to believe. What memories I have are distant, and the rest... well, I gave my childhood to the Blind Man, didn't I?

But non of that matters now.

Tonight, one way or another, this all ends.