tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57445358443205273852024-03-05T13:26:43.279-05:00Eccentrically BoredJoseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-6152827189759172782011-04-25T17:38:00.002-04:002011-04-25T17:38:35.047-04:00A New ChapterOne chapter of my life has ended, but a new one begins <a href="http://iamhissteward.blogspot.com/">hidden in the trees</a>.<br />
<br />
-STEWARDJoseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-63613730641107111872011-04-24T06:48:00.000-04:002011-04-24T06:48:01.808-04:00RebirthLast night, I went home. Master showed me the way. He guided me through a long black path, covered in leaves. I emerged from the blackness, and I was in my old house.<br />
<br />
Master had given me a knife, and I used it well. Mother, father, sister, brother. Throats slit, everyone. Never woke up. It's for the best. Master's power will prevent them from passing on. They will never become its slaves. They will simply cease.<br />
<br />
I have shed my old life. I have found a purpose. Master has given me one. And with His voice always buzzing in my head, I shall never be alone again.<br />
<br />
Happy Easter.<br />
<br />
-STEWARDJoseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-4876413259408698102011-04-23T19:54:00.002-04:002011-04-23T19:54:53.031-04:00I'm not a bad man even though I do bad things very bad things such horrible things but it's not quite what it seemsJoseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-65170287358641762702011-04-23T15:53:00.000-04:002011-04-23T15:53:52.850-04:00AfterlifeIn the end, it wasn't Gas Mask who came for me. No, Archangel chose a more fitting form.<br />
<br />
As I sat in my motel room, Crystal materialized before me, and leaped at me, wrapping her fingers around my neck. I looked up into her face. Her expression was blank, but her eyes were not. Her eyes were full of terror and sorrow and pain. And that's when I realized the truth.<br />
<br />
I had been keeping a knife with me. I buried it in her stomach, and pushed her corpse off me. Then I ran. I just hopped into my car and drove. There is no escape from the Archangel. I understand that now. To become its slave is the ultimate fate of all humans. The Archangel isn't just some monster. The Archangel is the afterlife, and it waits for us all.<br />
<br />
But... maybe there is a way out.<br />
<br />
Last time. When Gas Mask killed Crystal.<br />
<br />
Slender Man stopped him from killing me. Why?<br />
<br />
He saved me.<br />
<br />
saved me saved me saved me saved me a saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved l me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved o me saved me saved me saved n me saved me e saved me saved me n saved me saved me saved me saved me o saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved m me saved me saved me saved me o saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved r me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me e saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved me saved meJoseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-64569295962871636312011-04-22T16:50:00.000-04:002011-04-22T16:50:56.728-04:00AloneCrystal's dead.<br />
<br />
Worked all day. Came back to the motel to find her corpse laying on her bed. Her blood all over the walls. Gas Mask standing over her, holding a god damn baseball bat. Her blood still dripped from it.<br />
<br />
He came at me, and then tendrils of blackness oozed out from the empty air and enveloped him. I saw the empty face in the blackness, looking at me. And I looked beyond it and saw his face smiling.<br />
<br />
And then I was alone save for the corpse.<br />
<br />
Crystal.<br />
<br />
She's dead.<br />
<br />
Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead daed dae dead dead dead dead adedc<br />
<br />
Alright Archangel. I guess you know where I'm headed. When find a hotel, you'll know where it is. Where I am.<br />
<br />
I'm waiting for you you son of a bitch.<br />
<br />
Come and get me.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-41305373854828786102011-04-21T16:28:00.000-04:002011-04-21T16:28:30.448-04:00Things That Go Bump in the NightLast night I woke up just in time to see... <i>something</i>... scurry out of the window. Looked like some kind of ape. With claws. I checked Crystal and she was fine.<br />
<br />
Been driving all day. I don't even know what state I'm in right now. All I know is that I'm tired and I should probably find some work soon, because our money pool is just about dried up.<br />
<br />
Crystal's been delirious all day. At one point she started screaming from something she saw on the side of the road. I hope she'll be OK.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-63634233108733909042011-04-20T09:07:00.000-04:002011-04-20T09:07:21.101-04:00CompanionsCrystal's leg is getting worse. It stinks to high heaven, and the skin has become black and red and even a bit green. Every time even a little bit of pressure is applied to it, I can see Crystal writhing in pain.<br />
<br />
Part of me wants to leave her. Let her suffer for what she did. But I can't. I just can't.<br />
<br />
We're all we have left.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-27450550762489873562011-04-19T21:15:00.001-04:002011-04-20T09:05:10.204-04:00(C) Truth<i>Hey.</i><br />
<br />
<i>So, Joey told you all then. I haven't been flushing the pills down the toilet. I've been selling them.</i><br />
<br />
<i>I know. I know. It was stupid of me. It was irresponsible... but do you have any idea how hard it is to just survive like this? I haven't been home in seven years. I've been running from a monster that can raise the fucking dead for seven years. Any money I had with me in the beginning ran out a long time ago.</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>Seven years ago, I never would have imagined that I'd be reduced to this. I've sold crack, I've stolen, I've prostituted myself... All so I can just make a bit of money. Enough for gas and food and rooms... When those pills started showing up, I realized that they were a goldmine. I had a full bottle for every hotel or motel we checked into, the high they give is a state of perfect peace, and they hook you with only one dose, but the withdrawal is over with within a week. It's the kind of drug I could easily make some money off.</i><br />
<br />
<i>In the end, it all came back to bite me in the ass. So now I'm sitting in some cheap-ass motel room with an amateur bandage wrapped around my leg-- a leg that's turning black and growing number with each passing hour. I can't go to a hospital. I'll get deported. They might even connect me with everything I've done over the years.</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>On the bright side, I've had lots of time to think. After everything that's happened, things are finally starting to make sense. We were going to die, but both the Slender Man and the Archangel intervened. Why?</i><br />
<br />
<i>It's obvious: they didn't want us dead. At least, not yet.</i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>This is really the reason I'm on Joey's account right now. He asked me to type this. The story I told him: back in California, I was driving down a road when a hooded man in a gas mask suddenly leaped onto my windshield. He started banging his fist against the glass, and I slammed on the breaks, sending him tumbling off.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Then I floored it, and ran right over him. About five minutes later, I heard pounding on the car's roof. I slammed my breaks again, and once again Gas Mask tumbled off my vehicle.</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>When I got to LA, I stopped to inspect the damage. There was a message scratched into the paint: "you have been chosen." There was also a scrap of paper that had been duct taped there. This blog's URL was written on it.</i><br />
<br />
<i>That's how I found Joey's blog. The Archangel led me here.</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>When Joey was high, he ranted about how "we are all pieces." I understand now. Archangel and Slender Man are playing some sort of Grand Game against each other, and me and Joey are the pieces on their game board. We don't know the rules. We can't know the rules. No human can ever sit in the player's seat.</i><br />
<br />
<i>We are all pieces. Since this all began-- probably sooner than that-- we've been dancing to their tune.</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>...Judging by my leg, I won't be dancing much longer.</i><br />
<br />
<i>~Crystal </i>Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-60980199152522752932011-04-18T10:06:00.000-04:002011-04-18T10:06:56.297-04:00Behind Closed DoorsI guess I should tell you what happened yesterday.<br />
<br />
Crystal's been shot. She won't let me take her to a hospital. She insists she'll be fine. The bullet got her in the leg. She tells me there won't be any lasting damage. I'm not so sure.<br />
<br />
After what I learned, I'm not sure if I want her to recover from this.<br />
<br />
Yesterday's post ended with me saying there was someone at the door. You'll never guess who. Turns out some of the local drug dealers decided they wanted to pay Crystal a visit. Apparently, she and that new drug of hers have been intruding on their turf. You see where there is going?<br />
<br />
No sooner had I opened the door then I was pistol whipped into unconsciousness. I woke up tied to a chair like in some shitty action movie. But unlike shitty action movies, I woke up with an aching head and I was so dizzy that I threw up, spraying puke all over my lap. My guests ignored me, apparently not even noticing the putrid scent of the puke. There were three of them. They were all armed. I realize that there's probably no way I can type this without coming across as at least a little bit racist, so I'll just come right out and say it: two of them were young black guys, and the third looked Hispanic. None of them seemed very friendly. They all sat on the bed, waiting for Crystal to show up.<br />
<br />
Eventually, the door opened, and in she stepped, a smile on her lips. As soon as she saw our guests, that smiled melted away, and she immediately took a step back. All three of the dealers were already aiming at her by then, and for a moment, she froze.<br />
<br />
The moment passed quickly. Before I could even blink, she was running. Two of the dealers-- the Hispanic guy and one of the others-- chased after her. The third one stayed with me.<br />
<br />
"Your girlfriend's not very smart," he told me. "First the whore starts dealing in our spots, then she tries to run." He pointed his gun at my head. "That pill of hers. Where does she make it?"<br />
<br />
I stared at him blankly, and realization dawned.<br />
<br />
That bitch. <i>That STUPID BITCH!</i><br />
<br />
Suddenly, a great blackness fell over me, and I saw an empty face, pale and yet somehow dark, just inches away from my eyes. Tentacles oozed out of the blackness and wrapped around the dealer, twisting the gun from his hand, wrapping around his throat and chocking off his scream. One tentacle lashed out, slicing through his stomach like a blade, spilling his intestines out onto the floor.<br />
<br />
And then the Slender Man turned his attention to me.<br />
<br />
I tried to move. The best I could do was scoot the chair a bit away, just as a tentacle flew at me. It sliced the rope from my legs, and managed to leave a a long but shallow gash across my skin, and I immediately took advantage of this sudden freedom, standing and running for the door, ignoring the stinging in my leg.<br />
<br />
Slender Man attacked again, and the chair, my arms still tied to it, exploded. Splinters rained everywhere, and I was knocked flat on my face, my back covered in cuts and slashes from those tentacles. I scrambled away, half crawling half running out of the motel room. I didn't look back to see if Slender Man was following me.<br />
<br />
I ran out onto the street just in time to see Crystal pinned against a car with the dealers beating the shit out of her. I hesitated for a moment, and ran toward her.<br />
<br />
One of the dealer's heads exploded, his brains splattering all over the asphalt of the parking lot.<br />
<br />
I looked up. Gas Mask was standing on the roof of the motel, a rifle in his hands. He took aim again, and I ran.<br />
<br />
Crystal managed to push the remaining dealer-- one of the black guys-- away from her and ran for the car. He opened fire on us, but we both ducked behind Crystal's car in time to avoid the bullets. Some guy was lying on the pavement nearby, in a hoodie with one of those Operator symbols on its back. He was bleeding pretty badly. I'm not sure if he was still alive or not.<br />
<br />
We heard the rifle go off again, and the dealer's barrage stopped.<br />
<br />
"Get in the car!" Crystal shouted. "NOW!"<br />
<br />
I complied, and we scrambled in, but not before Gas Mask got in one more shot, blowing a nasty hole through Crystal's right leg. The bullet hit on the lower half, in the fat behind the bone. Not sure what the technical name for that is.<br />
<br />
I pushed her into the passenger's seat, pulled the keys from her pocket, got the hell away from there. I looked back with the rearview mirror to Slender Man behind us, standing in the middle of the parking lot, turning to look at Gas Mask on the roof. Gas Mask seemed almost about to fire at him, but then he just dropped the rifle and seemed to almost burn away, vanishing in a puff of ash and embers.<br />
<br />
Crystal poured whiskey on her wound and had me bandage it up. I'm not sure if that's the proper way to treat a gunshot wound, but at the moment I was too angry to object.<br />
<br />
"What the hell were you thinking!?" I shouted. "Those pills! <i>Those</i> pills!? What the fuck made you decide to <i>sell</i> them!?"<br />
<br />
All she said was "Had to... make money... somehow" before she fell into unconsciousness.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-56054833331980412952011-04-17T14:45:00.000-04:002011-04-17T14:45:10.670-04:00Happy Birthday to MeSo today is my birthday. Hurray. Running aimlessly around the country while trying to avoid monsters wasn't exactly what I had in mind for my birthday, but whatever.<br />
<br />
Crystal's out doing... something. Not sure what. I haven't done much of anything all day. Not much to report about the past few days either. Find work where I can get it, survive. Somehow running for my life is beginning to settle down into a routine.<br />
<br />
Hold on, I think Crystal's back. I hear someone knocking on the door.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-52345973405784482582011-04-12T18:15:00.001-04:002011-04-12T18:17:43.198-04:00(C) Still Being Followed<i>So, after we saw that post Archangel left on this blog, we hightailed it out of that hotel and have been on the road since. We just now came to a stop at a new motel somewhere in... I think we're in Tennessee now.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Look, is it just me, or is Joey kind of a prude? He's really shy and shit about a lot of things. Dude, we share a room, a car, and a life: I am not going to be traumatized by the sight of your penis. Also, I don't need you giving me those disapproving looks every time you see me with a cigarette.</i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>I'll admit it, OK: I fucked up with the beer thing. I didn't stop to think that Joey might not appreciate any mind-altering substances after the whole pill thing. I'm sorry, Joey. I know that not remembering what you did the other night and waking up with a headache terrifies you, but trust me when I say that nothing bad happened. Basically, you just complained about Slender Man and Archangel, started muttering about pieces and faces again, then you groped me and tried to kiss me, then you threw up on my lap and passed out. Considering the things I've done while drunk, it was actually pretty tame.</i><br />
<br />
<i>But once again, I'm sorry. I didn't think.</i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>~Crystal</i>Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-34086154216327023772011-04-11T22:38:00.001-04:002011-04-11T22:38:50.696-04:00we know where you areJoseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-62480378638734222362011-04-11T09:01:00.000-04:002011-04-11T09:01:17.834-04:00AlcoholGot drunk last night, at Crystal's urging.<br />
<br />
Can't remember anything else. Woke up with my very first hangover.<br />
<br />
I don't care what new and creative names she comes up with to call me-- I ain't doing this again.<br />
<br />
I gotta go lie down...Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-28362404374166963172011-04-08T21:46:00.000-04:002011-04-08T21:46:29.055-04:00A New Hotel and a New RitualMy head seems to be clearing up and I am no longer hallucinating, so that's good. I don't even know why I took those pills again-- it's not like I didn't know what they were, or what they would do to me. I just... sort of grabbed them as soon as I saw them.<br />
<br />
But anyway, I'm all better now. New hotel today. This time I was forbidden from entering until Crystal had checked it. She found a bottle of pills and flushed them before letting me in.<br />
<br />
Hopefully, another incident like that won't happen again.<br />
<br />
...And hopefully I can restrain myself if I ever see those things again.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-24535389212998230012011-04-06T17:03:00.000-04:002011-04-06T17:03:31.994-04:00(C) Joey's Sleeping<i>This is Crystal. Joey's asleep right now. Or rather, he's passed out.</i><br />
<br />
<i>As I guess you already figured out, he found some pills in the bathroom of this hotel room and took them. As soon as he did, he started acting weird, like everything was completely alright. He even kept telling me not to worry: "if they kill us, they kill us. That's just how it is."</i><br />
<br />
<i>Eventually, he tried to get me to take some of the pills, and when I refused he tried to force some down my throat. I managed to stop him and get the pills away, and then he started screaming and ranting at me. Most of it was nonsense, but a couple phrases kept being repeated: "his face", "we are all the pieces", and "they are eternal". Then he just fell over and passed out on the bed. I don't know what happened. So I took the pills and dumped them all down the toilet.</i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>Shit, I don't know what the hell those pills are, but they aren't natural. I'm pretty sure they were the same ones he was taking before I met him. They can cause addiction after just a few uses, and then get your body dependent on them so much that you go into withdrawal after a couple hours without a dose. That's not normal no matter how you slice it. Trust me, I'd know.</i><br />
<br />
<i>~Crystal </i>Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-88668171708459275362011-04-06T16:17:00.001-04:002011-04-06T16:42:01.513-04:00Early Birthday PresentWe're in a new hotel now and in a new state. I like it here. Nice and relaxing. Found a birthday present in the bathroom. Fun presents. Nice presents. How lovely. I love my birthday. April 17. Coming soon. I'll be 20. Add a 1. Drop a zero. Divide into three parts. Happy nosy number all over the place being all numbery.<br />
<br />
I like this hotel. The bed is nice and soft and fluffy. Crystal upset about something. Don't know what. Nice hotel. No reason to be sad. Maybe I should cheer her up.<br />
<br />
She can share my present.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-44182376602293352672011-04-05T20:41:00.000-04:002011-04-05T20:41:06.458-04:00GamblingI managed to get another job today, though this time the carpenter who took me on only gave me $20 and didn't bother to feed me. My only consolation was finding $0.85 on the ground. Not much consolation, I'll admit.<br />
<br />
Anyway, long story short, Crystal took all $20.85 and bet in a Poker game. A games that, as she later confided to me, she was cheating in. But she managed to double the money, so I guess it's all good.<br />
<br />
We'll be moving to another town tomorrow. Crystal doesn't like being in one place for too long.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-33521470165840524722011-04-04T19:21:00.000-04:002011-04-04T19:21:55.328-04:00Honest Work for Honest PaySo today I put all those hours on a construction site to good use and hung out in a Home Depot parking lot, looking for work. Luckily, some contractor was willing to take me on for a day, installing doorframes. He even bought me lunch.<br />
<br />
At the end of the day, he gave me a $50 bill for my work. Something tells me that all my work days won't go as well as this one, but you can't live with no money.<br />
<br />
Crystal also earned some cash today, doing... I'm not sure, exactly. I have my suspicions though, mostly concerning something I saw in one of her bags, but I'd rather not say anything and risk losing her company. We're all we have, so long as these things are after us.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-17496446856443767692011-04-02T22:10:00.000-04:002011-04-02T22:10:57.794-04:00RabbitsWe've been on the move since Thursday. First we headed West, then we turned Northward. I'm currently in a hotel in Maryland, typing this post out on my laptop. We've got all the blinds closed, and Crystal's keeping a handgun close by. Like her car, I have serious doubts that her money into acquiring it, but she's the one with the gun, so I just keep my mouth shut.<br />
<br />
Something weird happened yesterday. Well, two things weird happened:<br />
<br />
First: while we were moving through Northern Virginia, driving down a forested road, we had to abruptly stop on account of me really having to take a piss. I headed off road, into the trees, to do my business.<br />
<br />
Rabbits. So many rabbits. Just hanging there. From the branches. Some had the rope tied around their legs, others had hooks lodged in their backs, still some hung with nooses around their necks. Everywhere I looked, there were rabbits, hanging from the trees. Swaying in the breeze. Lifeless. Skinless. Some of them were rotted, with maggots crawling all over them, and green organs hanging limply from their skeletons. Others were fresher. Blood still dripped from a few, sliding off their red, glistening muscles and falling to the earth below, which drank their fluid greedily.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, I didn't need to pee anymore. Mostly because it was all running down my legs. Especially when I heard the bushes rustling, and a soft sound like a man laughing.<br />
<br />
I turned and ran, heading back to the car, not caring about the discomfort in my pants. Crystal made a face, asked me if I'd pissed myself, but I just yelled at her to drive. My panic apparently got through to her, and she complied.<br />
<br />
The second thing that happened? You may have noticed a new post on this blog, dated April 17, 1991. That's my birthday.<br />
<br />
According to Crystal, I woke up in the middle of the night and posted that, without saying a word. Then I simply went back to sleep. She checked my computer, and was apparently too unnerved by that weird-ass post to get to sleep again.<br />
<br />
Slender Man. Archangel. Whatever these things are, they're hunting us. I don't know what they want. I don't know why we've been targeted. All I know is that I need to run. I need to run as fast as I can, as far as I can.<br />
<br />
And I need to pray that they don't catch me.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-18209419231751851492011-03-31T07:54:00.002-04:002011-03-31T15:53:42.313-04:00DecisionI woke up today to find that somewhat threatening post on my blog. I'd love to say my account was hacked. I'd love to say that someone had gotten a hold of my password.<br />
<br />
But I saw <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpFzHX5Qilk">this</a>.<br />
<br />
Gas Mask. Well, Archangel I guess. He was in my room last night. He used my computer to post that message.<br />
<br />
Crystal is right. It's not safe here. I've decided to leave with her.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-31760875627228118952011-03-31T04:04:00.004-04:002011-03-31T04:04:00.338-04:00helloyou have chosen<br />
<br />
joey steward<br />
<br />
to reject us<br />
<br />
we are unhappy<br />
<br />
run along<br />
<br />
find the STRANGER<br />
<br />
he can not protect you<br />
<br />
embrace the archangelJoseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-92221910022174244412011-03-28T21:00:00.000-04:002011-03-28T21:00:11.512-04:00Crystal's StoryI met C today.<br />
<br />
Her name is Crystal. She's 26 years old. Seven years older than me.<br />
<br />
We met at a library at 5pm, about three and a half hours ago. She's a really pale woman, with dark, sunken-in eyes and long, tangled, unevenly cut hair. She was wearing a bunch of old clothes, and I think I saw some crust in the fabric. I don't want to know how long it's been since she washed them.<br />
<br />
We sat down at a table in the back of the library. Obviously, I can't remember the exact words of our conversation, but I'll try my best to get this accurate as possible:<br />
<br />
"So," I said, as we sat down. "You're C?"<br />
<br />
"'Crystal' will do," she told me. "I was in a library in Los Angeles when I found your blog."<br />
<br />
"They have libraries in Los Angeles?"<br />
<br />
She ignored my little attempt at a joke. "I don't know what I was looking for exactly. I guess I was trying to find some evidence of it's existence... Anyway, I somehow found your blog, and I saw the Twin Triangles on one of your pictures--"<br />
<br />
I interrupted her there. "You saw the what?"<br />
<br />
"The Twin Triangles. That's what I call it anyway. It's its symbol-- two triangles, one upside down, overlapping each other. I don't know if there's some sort of official name, but the symbol shows up wherever it does. Those pictures you posted of that construction site... It was scratched into a wall. That's how I knew the Archangel was targeting you."<br />
<br />
We were silent for a moment, and then I asked: "What is the Archangel?"<br />
<br />
She shook her head. "I don't know, exactly. Some sort of... thing. I guess the best way to explain it would be to explain how I met it." She hesitated. "I was born and raised in Montreal. My family had me, my mom, my dad, and my older brother David. Anyway, about six years ago my brother was killed in a car accident." She hesitated again. "He was dead... I helped clean out his room, I saw them put the coffin in the ground... but he was there too. At the funeral. The cemetery. I saw him just standing there behind a tree, watching."<br />
<br />
There was a long pause after that. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't think of what. Thankfully, she continued before anything came to mind: "I kept seeing him, throughout the next few weeks. Standing outside my window. Walking across the street. I saw him in the mall once. He was following me. I thought I was going crazy... I never told anyone, though. Just kept it to myself. Then one night, I was at a party. I was walking back to my car, drunk out of my mind... and he was there in the passenger seat. Nearly shocked me into sobriety. Then he attacked me."<br />
<br />
It was at this point that I was reminded of my own encounter with one of the recently departed.<br />
<br />
"I don't remember much of that night," Crystal continued. "Most of its blur. Somehow I managed to get away. I guess I must gone sober at some point, since I managed to get home without wrecking. That's when I found the first note. It was written in my brother's handwriting. Had the Twin Triangles drawn on it, and said something about how I should embrace the Archangel. No capital letters either. I went to my room, locked the door and windows and curled up in my bed. I don't think I slept at all that night. It was like that for the next few weeks. Notes left at my door, my brother... and I started seeing other people too-- people I knew who had died. My grandma... My uncle... I never saw them together-- I don't think the Archangel can use more one body at a time."<br />
<br />
I interrupted her again here. "What?"<br />
<br />
"That's what it does, or at least that's what I think it does. The Archangel... I don't think it has a physical body, so it needs to use the dead to interact with the world. Anyway, after a few more weeks of this, I just withdrew all my money from the bank, quit my job, left a few messages for the people who knew me, and ran. I managed to sneak across the border, down to the States, and I've been running ever since, taking up whatever jobs are available to me to keep the cash flowing. But the Archangel's never been far behind, so I've had to keep moving." She leaned back, and I realized for the first time that there were tears in her eyes, and she had been struggling not to cry since she'd started this story. "I don't know why it's after me, and I don't know why it's after you, and I don't know anything about a Slender Man, either. But, Joey, listen to me: you have to run. This thing won't just let you go. If you stay here, you'll die, and that thing will take your body and start parading around with it. You can come with me if you want-- just don't stay here."<br />
<br />
...I don't feel like posting the rest of what happened. I'm sorry, guys, but there's a lot I need to think about.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-90354393934277641082011-03-26T15:15:00.000-04:002011-03-26T15:15:45.254-04:00The ArchangelI just got home from my weekly Psychiatrist visit. He gave me some medicine, different kind than last, but I'm not going to take it. Best be careful-- I'm just now beginning to calm down after that last pill fiasco.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I stumbled across a blog called <a href="http://nihilartikelling.blogspot.com/">brighter than a spoon</a>, and as I read it, something clicked in my head. "There's more out there than just Slender Man"...<br />
<br />
What if I've been looking at this the wrong way? What if "Archangel" isn't just another name for Slender Man? What if the Archangel is something completely different? It would certainly make sense. Hell, it would explain a lot. But I can't find any information on it, besides Biblical angels, and somehow I doubt they're the same thing.<br />
<br />
Please, if anyone knows anything about this Archangel, tell me.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-65018636093432807282011-03-23T14:54:00.000-04:002011-03-23T14:54:15.451-04:00NotesI got home tooday and I found two noets waitiung for me.<br />
<br />
The first was in the mailbox. If you've been reading the commnets, then you know someone called "C" has been commenting on this blog. Well, he left me a message. He wants to meet in person. C, I understannd if you mean well, but I really am not in a modd to meet someone at the momment.<br />
<br />
The second note, well...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_i2xAoX3BlSXzIx-Fz92nNrIZ7Fz-Z0JrE_yOYpK4tw7megCKV_nHZ8wKk7RqVvwvcIBoPLmmDzPRPOQYKfyMM4z0wyc7b6QfG5Dtp56CXTgY8v4sz2XbJsi5vvmyYCRNzOaXEexpGKz/s1600/Untitled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_i2xAoX3BlSXzIx-Fz92nNrIZ7Fz-Z0JrE_yOYpK4tw7megCKV_nHZ8wKk7RqVvwvcIBoPLmmDzPRPOQYKfyMM4z0wyc7b6QfG5Dtp56CXTgY8v4sz2XbJsi5vvmyYCRNzOaXEexpGKz/s320/Untitled.jpg" width="243" /></a></div>This was on my bedrtoom door. C? Did you leave this? Stay the fuck away from me. Just STAY THE FUICK AWAY FROM ME!Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5744535844320527385.post-36091069895246080392011-03-23T07:40:00.000-04:002011-03-23T07:40:15.923-04:00Woke Up in the Middle of the Night...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDBRgsIo0f9UtS26Xti95M-lsknj90hQWi1upC2ogRG9iTKIzaikxRDLRjXpeOcbESIxNrF26qdmIS5npsGh-tkgNAplUokJAoiy8KpdVDGXIX1p_KnWWF0WkFgLoq9rzL4PD353KdVoz/s1600/LookWhoWokeMeUp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDBRgsIo0f9UtS26Xti95M-lsknj90hQWi1upC2ogRG9iTKIzaikxRDLRjXpeOcbESIxNrF26qdmIS5npsGh-tkgNAplUokJAoiy8KpdVDGXIX1p_KnWWF0WkFgLoq9rzL4PD353KdVoz/s320/LookWhoWokeMeUp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Hello there.Joseph Stewardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02810467045487124703noreply@blogger.com0