Sunday, 5 August 2012

New Blog

As promised, here's the URL to my new blog, where I will be keeping track of everything that happens from now until...well, whatever happens to Jack and I. 


http://chroniclesofseb.blogspot.ca/

Feel free to follow me there. I'll leave this blog up as an archive so that people can see what happened, but I don't plan on posting on it much anymore. 


Sebastian 

Saturday, 4 August 2012

Major Update

Sorry I haven't been very active, to those who read this, I've been dealing with a bit of major news. 


I won't go into detail here, but needless to say, I'm not alone anymore in this fight to stay alive. All of what happened can be summarized here: 


http://veilofinquiry.tumblr.com/

Needless to say, Jack and I are now working together - for the time being. The basic premise with this collaboration is simple; I help him in his hunt for whatever the shit he's going after, and in return, he agrees to try to keep me safe from The Weaver(or as he calls him, "The Father"). 


Interesting times lie ahead. I think for clarity's sake, I'll be making a new blog to document what's going on, however, due to our extensive travel, I won't be updating as much as I would like to - but you can at least keep an eye on Jack's blog(the one I linked above) to give you a general idea of what's happening. 


I'll post my blog title here when I create it - which will probably be tonight or tomorrow morning. 


Regards, 


Sebastian 

Friday, 3 August 2012

Facebook

I'm on my phone - a lot has happened in the last few days 

I've made a Facebook account(finally) so I can keep track of all the shit going  on. I will put it here so I can update you folks - if you want to add me, go right ahead. 

Regards,

Sebastian 

Friday, 27 July 2012

Still alive

Haven't seen or heard anything in the last week. Things are somewhat normal...for now. 


I'm preparing to go on the run within the next few days, though. My parents know nothing other then the note I've written them. 


I'll try to update before I leave. 

Saturday, 21 July 2012

The Full Story + Epilogue

I told you all I would tell you, and so I got up extra early to write this post before my shoulder starts to hurt again. Fractures aren't fun, let me tell you - having to lie about what happened wasn't either(told my parents and the doc that I fell on the sidewalk when I went out to take the garbage - that was the best I could do, heh).


Anyway, I called my friend Bill on Wednesday around 6 am - he's a chronic insomniac - and asked him if he would drive me out to Queenston Heights; I said I was going to help a few buddies who got drunk there and didn't want to leave because they were at The Point. Lame reason, but he agreed none the less, and around 6:30 he came and picked me up. 


Took a bit more explaining as to why I was bringing a baseball bat, but Bill really didn't press the issue, thankfully. If he did, I'm sure I would have came up with something - but at the time I really had nothing else to say. I just wanted to get there and finish this. 


We got to Queenston Heights around 6:50-ish. He dropped me off and I set out walking to The Point. Now, if you'll recall, I said that it was a four-hour walk from the closest parking lot to The Point - and it was true. I didn't get there until well after 10 AM. But really, when all you're focused on is closure, time really does go fast. I walked and walked, and I didn't care - all I had to think about was Lillith and Robert and how I would be getting justice for them now. 


Well, once I got through all the police tape - yes, it was still up - I got to the rock formation and there he was. Deadwood himself. Just casually sitting on the rock, staring down at me. I believe I touched on his appearance when he attacked the house, and all I said was that he was wearing some kind of mask. Well, now I could see better - the mask looked like a very thick piece of bark, with eye holes and a nose slit cut into it. It was wrapped around his head by what looked like masking tape. 


Not a very well-built mask, but when you're a slave of The Weaver, I guess you have to take what's available to you. The other thing I saw was that his clothing of choice seemed to be an old, rotted police uniform - I couldn't tell what branch, but I could tell by the faded logos it was police. 


Makes sense, considering he did say that before The Weaver found him, he was a police officer. 


He saw me coming, obviously, and hopped down to greet me. He had no weapon, as far as I could tell, and just stood there, staring at me for a moment before he began to speak. I've transcribed the conversation as best as I can: 


D: Ah, Sebastian! Good morning - you're here awfully early. 

Me: Fuck you, you son of a bitch. I'm not here to make nice - I'm here to get justice for Lillith and Robert. 

D: Of course you are. But first, let me ask you one thing - is it really worth it? I don't mean killing me, of course, but continuing these acts of defiance against Him? He's already angered at you for not opening your mind for His access, you know - any more like this and, well...I won't get into details about that. 

Me: Look. I don't care about The Weaver or you. All I know is that you've came into my life, murdered two of my best and closest friends, and for what? To get to ME? Why not just come after me directly, Deadwood? Or are you and your master so cowardly that you don't want a direct confrontation? 

D: Oh, please. Your attempts to anger me won't work, Sebastian. And you should understand - my master only chooses those who are useful for service. He wants you to serve Him. The others - well, they aren't fit for it, and thus, they become His nourishment. You see, the notebooks allow Him to see into your mind, to probe it, feel it and know it. It allows Him to see how well you would do as a servant - or as nourishment. That is how He chose me - and He has chosen you, as well. 


But you resist. It's so much harder when you resist. 

Me: You expect me to just bow down like you did? I've seen what happens when He gets his paws - tentacles, whatever - around your mind. You aren't a person anymore - you're like a husk, who only exists to  carry out orders. That's not a life I want - and I don't think anyone else would want that kind of a life, either. 


Tell me, Deadwood - did you resist when The Weaver first came a' knocking? 

D: Oh, I freely admit that I did. I was terrified - I did all I could to stop Him. But when He came in my dreams again and showed me His intentions - to make me a servant - I stopped fearing Him. I saw that His mission - to feed - is a worthy one. 


What is better, Sebastian? The worthless lives of Internet bloggers, who exist only to foolishly romp around with cameras and play with things they do not understand, or the lives of children? Think about it - You know as do I that His favoured prey are the young. 


But now, with so many people running around waving cameras, it allows Him to focus on them, and not on the children. He told me that directly. I've been blessed to see Him and hear Him face-to face, as it were. 

Me: Bullshit. He's just using you. Think - a supernatural being with immense powers of abduction, teleportation and the like - and you think he's not going to lie about what he wants? You're a tool, Deadwood - a tool that needs to be broken, and I'm the one to do it. 

D: Very well, Sebastian. I will deliver you to Him either as a servant or as food - it's up to you!

That's when the fight began. 


I won't bore you with details, but it was a hard one. He got me good with his punches and was able to move faster then I was - go figure, police officers do get athletic training, and my 'sport' of choice is walking - but I ended up getting him good in the knee with my bat, and he went down. 


That's when I heard His voice in my head - a roar, more like - and I had to drop the bat a moment. 


That's when he got me in the shoulder, and probably would have killed me, too, if I didn't deliver my own knee into his genital region; needless to say, that hurt him REALLY bad.  He went down - and that's all I remember. 


The next thing I remember is coming to, bat in my hand, sitting on his chest. He was dead as shit - I apparently started hitting him with the bat and didn't stop until his face was a bloody mess. His mask had been thrown to the side, so I must have done that when I started hitting him. 


It's hard not to think of His servants as anything more then tools, but in the end, I felt pity for Deadwood - he didn't do this by choice, and his mind was broken by that bastard just like Robert and Lillith. Still, I had justice for them - finally. 


After it was done, I took Deadwood's body and tossed it down into the ravine near the Point - I did it while wearing the tree-bark mask, so in case He was watching, He might think I was Deadwood. I guess I was hopeful that I could fool Him. And indeed, when I looked down into the ravine, I saw Him, just staring at the body I put down there. Next thing I knew, they were both gone. 


Then, I hate to say it, but I fell asleep on the ground. I was so tired from the fight, from the stress, from everything. I just...slept. Thankfully, no voices in my head - it was hours of blissful sleep.

I didn't wake up for over 15 hours - it was around noon when I fell asleep, and I woke up around 3 AM the morning of the 19th. 


Needless to say, walking home was a bitch. I got home finally - I managed to hitch a ride with a nice German couple who were sightseeing, and they dropped me off back at my apartment - and it was around 8 AM before I got home.


I've kept Deadwood's mask - I guess in a way, I wanted to try to fool Him into thinking I had given in and became a slave, like the old one. And for now - I don't know, but the voices have stopped and I haven't seen or heard Him since our fight. So, either it worked - which I doubt, or He's planning something else - which is more likely. 


Well, it looks like I know what I have to do; all of the other blogs and vlogs refer to "runners", those victims of Him who can only survive by staying on the move and keeping one step ahead of Him. It's not a very glamorous life, but it looks as though it's the only chance I've got, not only for myself, but to keep him away from my family and my other friends. 


It looks like this is the end of this blog and the start to...well, my life on the go; at least, it will be soon. I'm going to lay low for a few days and then start getting ready to leave. I'll try to check in as much as I can, as I plan on bringing my laptop and charger with me, so I have a life-line to the online world. 


I guess this is goodbye for now - I'll try to keep this updated as I go, and I'll definitely try to put in one last entry before I leave my apartment for good, but it might be sporadic. 


Stay safe - all of you, be you morbid people who like reading about shit like this or fellow "runners". 


-Sebastian


Friday, 20 July 2012

have to wait until tomorrow

sorry guys.

I had to go into the ER today to get my fractured shoulder fixed up - happened when the fucker got me good with my bat.

I need some rest so I'm going to take it easy tonight and then hopefully(with a lot of pain) type up what happened out there.

Bear with me, please.

i'm alive

just got home after getting lost. 2 days in the forest isn't very fun. 


gonna get some sleep then i'll write up what happened. needless to say I want to think it's finally over.

Wednesday, 18 July 2012

Showdown

I've decided, after sitting up all night in different states of anger, rage and despair. 


I'm going to The Point in a few hours. I'm not going to give Deadwood the satisfaction of winning this fight and conquering me. I can't - Lillith and Robert's memories demand that I get them some kind of justice; I failed both of them and caused their deaths if my dreams are to be believed, and it's only fair that I pay the piper and try to redeem myself the good old fashioned way. 


It hurts me to look at this house, now. To see Michael and his wife in such pain; they were just coming out of the fugue of losing their son, and now Lillith was taken, too. Her corpse is not even cold - I can still feel her in this house. Her scent lingers on the couch where we spent so much time cuddled up together. Her notebooks are still here, the pen-marks still fresh from a few days ago when she began to write again. Everything here sickens me because it reminds me of her. 


Even though Michael sat me down and told me straight out that I'm not to blame at all, I can't accept it. The dreams tell me otherwise - that I was always His target after I asked Robert about his notebooks. Somehow it - moved, from him to me. But He still took Robert because He wanted to feed. And now, despite everything I tried to do to keep her safe, He took Lillith, too. At least I can take solace in the fact that it wasn't Him personally who took her, but that motherfucker Deadwood. 


In a way, I pity him. He's obviously a slave to The Weaver fully; his mind isn't really his anymore. He's only a puppet, a shell, a tool to be used - and he can't even realize it. But even so, tools have their uses and it's obvious The Weaver has a lot of them. He wants to make me into one, at least I think so. And I won't go quietly, He knows that. 


I mentioned how the notebooks seemed to be how He draws you in. He told me why in my tormented sleep last night - because it allows Him to know you fully - by just seeing Him, that means nothing. It's almost like when a mouse sees cheese in a mouse-trap; it doesn't know anything else other then "I want this". But when it springs the trap - in this case, the notebooks, under the guise of providing succor to the physical pain He causes - it's too late and the trap slams shut on you. 


It could all be bullshit and just a dream, but I don't know what's real and what's not anymore. 


I don't know what I will find tomorrow when I go out to The Point, but I'm not shy about my chances; it's very likely I may not make it back. I could be wrong, and I could walk out of those woods unscathed, but I'm not going to leave my life up to chance. And even still, if I do survive - who knows how long I have? I've already seen Him in the waking world, and when that happens, you don't really have long unless you run and don't stop. 


It's kind of surreal; when I started this blog, I just wanted a place I could post about my love of nature. And now it's become an outlet for my battle against a supernatural entity that defies all laws of anything. 


I just want to say thank you to those of you who've read and commented on this blog. Lucia and Zoidberg deserve most of the credit - you two have offered some excellent insight. I may not know you personally, but your comments helped Lillith in what turned out to be her final weeks on this earth. 


I may see you again, but if I don't: Stay safe and keep fighting. 


Life's obviously too short and fleeting to get caught up in petty shit. 


-Sebastian 

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

failure

I'm kind of in shock right now even still but the cops and rescue people left a few hours ago so

Lillith's dead. I swore to protect her with my life and I failed. Fuck, how could I be so stupid? We did everything right - we locked all the doors, sealed the windows, and I had the bat and was on patrol constantly. There was no sign of anything, anywhere! It was safe. Her parents and I both confirmed it. 

Then, yesterday night...there was a knock at the door, right after we finished eating. Naturally, I grabbed my bat and headed towards the door. Lillith's father came with me - her mother stayed with her to make sure nothing happened. We checked the peephole and saw it was a UPS delivery driver - with some kind of package for us. So, we opened the door. 

That was when Deadwood threw the driver's corpse at Michael(Lillith's father), and charged me. I think I hit him once with the bat before I was on the ground and at his mercy. I tried to grab the bat but he got to it first and, I would presume, smashed me over the head with it, as that's the last thing I remember before waking up. 


(Edit: the only thing I remember about Deadwood is that he wore some kind of tattered uniform, probably police based on his earlier post) 

i still can't believe that we were so stupid. i loved her and still do and now she's gone - i'm such a failure 

When I came to, I...remember checking on Michael(he was fine), and then we ran into the living room to find Lillith there. She was dead before she hit the ground - so says the medical examiner. Apparently Deadwood had a knife or something that he rammed through her heart - killed her instantly. At least she didn't suffer in the end - if that means anything at all, now. 

oh god what have I done 

i've failed her, i've failed myself my family, robert, everyone 

I've tried writing this up for the past two hours and I still can't get the words right. it's so hard to think right now. 

He's taken everything from me - my friends, my family, the woman I love - all of it, without mercy. He doesn't care - because He has no concept of love, or mercy, or justice. He just exists to feed and feed - and no one can stop him, the cycle of death continues, round and round. With people like Deadwood who willingly drop on one knee and serve - it ensures that He can still do what He does best; break hearts and shatter minds. 

I remember a saying in an H.P Lovecraft story - "a dead god who still dreams". I know it doesn't 100% describe what He is, but - it's almost as if it's the closest thing we've got to a description. He is so far beyond what we can know - and His influence is felt, even in our dreams and thoughts. There's no escaping Him once He sights you. He will take everything - and leave nothing. 

My life...it doesn't mean anything right now. All it means is that I am alive because He hasn't chosen to claim me yet. And you know what? That's fine. Before He does claim me, I'm going to do the one thing justice demands I do. 

Deadwood, you're - well, dead. For Robert, for Lillith, and for everyone He's ever harmed. 

You're fucking dead. I may die, but if I can take him with me it will be a victory for the fallen.

Monday, 16 July 2012

Post-script.

Tree-Man, 


You've had your warnings. You've been told to back off - to leave well enough alone. 


You haven't. Now, He has set His eyes on you - the others were once His targets, but now they do not matter. You have gone from bait to prize in one fell swoop. I must admit a personal admiration of you - in that you have lasted this long. 


But one thing you don't know is that your little girlfriend was also in the way.  And if this note has been released, then she is officially now -out- of the way. 


I imagine that when you wake up, you will want revenge - which I understand. If you wish to try, and fulfill, at last, His wishes - then you simply must find me. 


The Point, July 18th. 


I'll be waiting. 


-Deadwood




Saturday, 14 July 2012

The last 3 days

Hi folks, Sebastian here once again. 


Sorry about the lack of updates in the past 3 days - we've been dealing with a bunch of strange shit in regards to both Lillith and I. I think it's only polite that I start with my own issues since they're mostly the major ones. 


I saw The Weaver today. Not in my dreams like I usually do, but in reality. 


I was doing a final sweep of the backyard orchard at about 6 PM Thursday night and was heading back to the porch when, out of the corner of my eye, at the side of an apple tree, there He was. I looked twice to see if I was looking at what I thought I was, and, indeed - there he was, with his no face and suit, just...staring at me. So, I did the only sensible thing that I knew. 


Had a staring contest with a creature with no eyes for about ten minutes. Seriously - I just stared right back. I tried to put on my war face but I was too busy trying not to run - my legs were screaming at me to get out of there, but I refused to go. I just stood there - and so did He. He didn't try to approach me, or attack me or anything. 


Eventually, I left with a final "fuck you" and walked back into the house. 


I don't understand why He didn't attack me, or anything. That night, I had no dreams about him. But since then, I've been feeling the paranoia at a rate that's even worse then it was. I find myself unable to let my baseball bat go - though, thinking about it, I don't think a metal bat is going to do much against Him, but it gives me comfort. 


Oh, this morning, I woke up on the back porch with a notebook in one hand and a broken pen in the other. I'm getting really tired of this "moving" thing - seriously. If you're gonna come after me, at least have the balls to do it yourself. 


But that's all that's happened to me in the land of the insane, now let's move on to Lillith. 


She's been having panic attacks that are borderline hysteria. The night I saw the Weaver, I came inside and I found her screaming bloody murder clutching a kitchen knife and stabbing the wall. After I approached her, she dropped the knife and started sobbing hysterically. 


"I know what you just fucking saw!" she said to me. Apparently, He let her know that I was finally going to start seeing him - and it crushed her. She spent the whole night sobbing while we cuddled. 


Just yesterday, I found the first signs of trouble - she was sitting on the porch, aimlessly writing "THE WEAVER WEAVES WHY" and "MY ROLEISFINISHED", over and over again onto a Post-It note. I tried to talk to her but she didn't seem there - it was like the old Lillith came back with a vengeance. Thing is, it only lasted about an hour and she was normal-ish, but...still. 


I haven't told her about my being moved in my sleep episodes, as I don't want to trigger anything. Her father and mother know, and they've agreed to keep a closer eye on me - for all the good it will do. 


And the headaches. I've read in other blogs that this happens to victims of Him, but mine just started the same morning I woke up outside. It's like someone's smashing a gong right next to my head - the pain is dull and intense. It's hard for me to focus without popping back 2 or 3 Advil a day.


I have to work through it, though. I have to protect Lillith and her family - like I said in my last post. 


I'll do whatever it takes, I don't care. 









Wednesday, 11 July 2012

Deadwood? Fuck you.


Well, look at what I woke up to this morning. 


Fucker thinks he's going to get the better of Lillith and I? 


BRING IT ON, YOU SON OF A BITCH. Your master too. I'll knock both your heads in! You're just mad that I'm still able to resist His calls. Not by much, but I will resist until I am dead. And you won't take Lillith either, you asshole. 


I don't care that you're some kind of ex-cop tough asshole who serves The Weaver. I've never backed down from a challenge, especially when someone wants to challenge the woman I love. Lillith's scared shitless now and rightly so - her father's gone out to buy some extra locks for the front and back doors, thankfully. 


As for me, I'm on patrol outside the house constantly. 


I won't let them be taken. I don't care. 


I'll die before Lillith goes. Even if I'm His target - He's welcome to try to claim me. 




Tuesday, 10 July 2012

Too easy.

You would assume that someone trying to avoid His control would put better safeguards in place in their home. 


Then again, our friend Sebastian doesn't seem to be the smartest tool in the proverbial shed, as it were. Trust me, fine people of the Internet, I've seen and taken on a LOT more then him and his little girlfriend, I assure you. 


But I jest. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Deadwood, humble servant of The Weaver's will. You may call me "proxy", "indoctrinated", or my favorite, "fucked up shithead" - whichever one suits your personal tastes! 


It was quite easy to circumvent the rather pathetic security system at this house, access Sebastian's laptop and - lo and behold - find the blog logged in and running! Again, if brains translated to computing power, Sebastian would be a TI-82 or worse. 


I just wanted to pop in and show him that he may think Lillith is safe, but she's not. 


No one is safe. Not from Him. I once though that way - I was an officer of the law, and I got too close, attracted His attention and now my purpose is much greater. 


He does inflict pain on us all, but the pain He inflicts is only a taste of His true power. He lifted me up and rebuilt me from the hollow shell I was. He came to me in my dreams and whispered tales of power and strength - and I took it all. I am so much more now then I ever was. 


Now, I believe that Mr. Sebastian is starting to stir, so I should be kindly on my way. 


Ah! Just a message to you, sir: 


The rules are clear. Your little girlfriend's time is coming - but not yet. It'll be at my own choosing. She broke them - and she is now an obstacle blocking my master's real target: 


You. 


Kind regards,


-Deadwood 

Sunday, 8 July 2012

Lazy days

I'm still recovering from Lillith's revelations from last night, but I think I'm starting to understand them alright. 


I need a break, though. All of this is starting to become overwhelming. I mean, I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me, but: 


-I'm sleeping 10-12 hours a day, and even then I'm still tired. It's like when you fall asleep and wake up in a flash; that's kind of how I sleep now a days. And even though, as I said, I still sleep 10-12 hours a day, I'm still too damned tired to do much. It's gotten worse the last couple of days. 


-The random moves. Yes, that still happens while I sleep. Just today I woke up on the floor by the front door when I fell asleep on the sofa. Nothing else out of the ordinary, no random scars or cuts or anything, but it's fucking creepy. 


-The broken pens. I've had to have broken at least 20 by now - every time I find one, I break it, as even LOOKING at the things makes me want to write shit down. It's almost like a compulsion except it's so strong it feels like someone's grabbing your hand and forcing pen to paper. 


-Hunger; it's fading. I eat maybe one meal a day now. 


I'll be back in a few days after I get my head straight. I plan on questioning Lillith further about what she's been keeping from me, too - so I'll put that up when I get back. 


P.S: Sleeping with a metal baseball bat isn't very comfortable.

Saturday, 7 July 2012

Confessions of Lillith

Evening, bloggers. Lillith again. 


Seb is sleeping right now. I don't care, I'm going to call him by his first name 'cause it makes a sweet sound when I say it. His full name is Sebastian - it sounds so sweet when you say it slowly, at least I find. 


Y'see, Seb? I CAN be romantic when I want to be. 


Anyway, I read his latest post and I can't help but feel bad. I shouldn't have said anything, but I feel I had to - it wasn't right that Seb kept lying to you guys and to himself - he's told me on multiple occasions that he's been "moved" or what have you in his sleep - at one point I found him digging through all the kitchen cabinets looking for something - he had a pen in his hand, so I think he was trying to find a notebook. 


It seems that The Weaver is going to be putting more pressure on Seb - which I don't want. 


Anyway; I also feel bad because I'm getting back to normal slowly. My dreams are still a bit fucked up but not as bad as they were, and I don't see Him as much - or when I do, I only see Him for a second before He seems to vanish. 


But all this has come at a cost - that cost is Sebastian. 


It seems the more I get better, the more he gets worse. Since he's been here, his health has declined while mine's improved. What he hasn't told you is that I catch him staring out the windows of the house a lot, just like I was. He claims he's "just admiring nature", but I know Seb and I can tell when he's lying. His eyes are just like...hollow. I see him taking Advil for his headaches, and I must have seen 10 or fifteen broken pens scattered around - he's obviously doing what he can to resist His compulsion. 


But as much as I love him, I know he can't fend Him off forever. 


No one can - it's what He does. He's shown me some of His victims - not just my brother, but people from around the world. They've been teenagers, children, parents, lawyers, police officers, dentists, doctors - no one is safe. 


When He wants you, He gets you. 


But what I still can't understand is how Seb is helping me. 


I've actually asked Him when He comes to me in my dream, but all He says is that Seb is "interfering, and interference will be dealt with". 


I guess Sebastian's his main target now.


That would explain why he's being targeted as hard as my brother was - it would also explain why Deadwood left him the notes. 


Yes, I know about Deadwood. He's a servant of The Weaver and the one who is going to try to deliver Seb to Him. 


It would also explain why I stole his coat from his house. Yes, that was me - but not really me at the same time. I know this doesn't make any fucking sense, but you have to understand; The Weaver has a strong ability to make you do things He wants. 


It was after the third grand mal seizure that I went to steal the jacket. 


I'm sorry, Sebastian....I love you, but I've fucked up. He's such a good man - so much better then Bryan or any of the other ex's I've had. I wanted to marry him - that's how much I love him. 


And there's still shit I haven't told him. He'll be mad, but I can't say it. I tried to say it once and I regretted it - waking up in your front yard covered in blood is NOT something I want to repeat again. 


-Lillith 


P.S: I love you, Sebastian...incase you haven't figured that out; you're my hero, baby. <3 

the dreams

hey folks, Smith here. 


just woke up from about 3 hours of sleep. I know that I kept saying I was fine, that my dreams were gone, etc - and then Lillith posted and blew the lid off that crock of shit. 


Well, they're getting worse. More intense. I don't know how to describe it. 


Tonight it was like a sense that "something is coming" - I remember hearing screams and...and seeing Him again, with those fucking tentacles wriggling around behind him. But he was off in the distance - there was someone else that was closer and I felt him getting closer to us. 


I get the feeling something is going to happen soon. That He's sending some of his flunkies to try to fuck with us; nothing new according to the other blogs I've read, but new to us - so it looks like I have to try to prepare for that as best I can. 


Though, I have to admit - it's even harder now then it was before. I woke up today on the floor of the basement - I fell asleep upstairs on the sofa. So either I'm getting up and sleep walking or this fucker's trying to make me do something in my dreams. Either way, I don't like it. 


There is SOME good news, though - I did find out that Lillith has a metal baseball bat in her garage - so I've appropriated it for use around here. If anyone wants to try to harm me or Lillith, I'll at least have a line of defence to try to stop them. 


I need sleep...everything's all blurry. 



Thursday, 5 July 2012

Smith'll be mad at me, but...

Hi, bloggers. 


I'm Lillith, Smith's ex-girlfriend-now-girlfriend again and the main point of his worries. 

He just got up to go to the bathroom so I decided I should say hello here. He's such a sweet guy, and he's doing everything he can for me. 


But I should say as you know; The Weaver doesn't like him being here. He still comes to my dreams from time to time, though not as bad as when I was alone. He says that Smith is "interfering" in his weaving and HE is getting "impatient." 


I know that He will come after him soon and I don't want him to. He already killed Robert and Smith is about the only friend I have left. I love him and I don't want him to be hurt. But at the same time, without him around, The Weaver comes and intrudes more and more it was terrible - when Smith was gone for half the day He just stood there, watching me with his...fucking no face. 


And when He does that thing with his head and it turns...fuck. 


Anyway, I just wanted to say that I'm so glad people out there know what's going on, and they know The Weaver is real, unlike almost everyone else living here. 


Smith believes me because of the dreams. The dreams are how they start; it takes a few weeks but then you start to see Him and write in the notebooks though Smith held out on the notebooks. See, that's how He starts to get to you - you write and let Him in and it makes things worse. 

But since Seb - er, Smith - hasn't written in the notebooks He doesn't have much control over him yet. Though he'll be even madder when I say this but Smith's told me about how the dreams with the bags are back. He also tells me how he's feeling so tempted to write in a notebook and it's taking him everything to hold back. He's so strong...like I wish I was. 


Anyway, I should go. We're going to go watch 21 Jump Street. 


-Lillith 

Wednesday, 4 July 2012

Back early

Got a text message from Lillith around 4 PM saying she wanted me to come back and fast. 


So I did, I got back by 4:30 and found her crying, staring out the living room window. She told me that The Weaver showed up while I was gone and he was "angry" that I was "subverting his control over her(Lillith)". Apparently, if I'm around, Lillith is safe, but when I leave, she gets harmed. 


This complicates things, sadly. It looks like I'll have to stay here indefinitely. 


Been cuddling with her since I got back, so she's calmed down now, thankfully. 


I'll keep her in my sights at all times. 

Heading home for the day

After having such a great week, I'm going to be heading back to my apartment to grab some more clothes, take a shower and the like, and help my parents tidy up. 


Lillith doesn't want me to go(poor girl) but her parents are going to keep an eye on her while I'm gone. I'll only be home for about half a day, but she's really insistent I don't go - I wouldn't go, if I didn't need to, but I need new clothes and I want to help my parents tidy up; so, I have no real choice but to leave for a few hours. 


Lillith sends her love to the Internet, by the way. She found out about this blog - and she thinks you're all "fuckin' amazing assholes"(her words, not mine) for putting up with our trials and struggles. 


Anyway - I'll be back later tonight. 

Tuesday, 3 July 2012

Lillith and I

I don't want to say we're officially back together, but she just broke up with Bryan via text message. I kind of feel bad for the poor guy, but since it's obvious he left to get away from Lillith's bad mental state at the time, instead of sticking it out and helping her like a real boyfriend would and should: Fuck him. 


I guess we're giving it another go. In that she's told me that she still cares about me - which honestly, feels good. It gives the heart a warm feeling, especially now that she is seriously on the mend - which she is, by the way. Her trademark "fuck you, I love you" smile is back and it honestly does me good to see it - it's MUCH better then her blank, dead look that she had for the last while. 


She's told me that her dreams have stopped entirely and her urge to write in the notebook is gone; something that I am very, VERY thankful for. 


I don't know if there are any kind of deities or what have you out there, but thank you all-the same. You're giving Lillith her life back; and hopefully now, we can get back to how we were before - I mean, relationship-wise. We can never bring Robert back, but at least he can rest easy now knowing that Lillith isn't going to share in his fate. 

I can rest easy now too; it seems the danger with Lillith is passed. I do know that I'm on The Weaver's shit list, but when he comes, I'll give him one hell of a fight. 


Call me brave, call me stupid, just don't call me late for dinner. 


...Okay, that was a bad joke. 


EDIT: Though, it does make me think what someone commented on in an earlier post I made about "conduits" and how they think I may be a conduit for Lillith. I'll clarify I'm not giving up on what the hell is going on, but I'm just...relieved that Lillith seems to be out of the danger zone.  

Monday, 2 July 2012

Now that the hangover's gone...

Sorry about last night, folks. 


Allow me to offer a real explanation other then "me drunk" as that last post was. 


Lillith, her parents and I went out to watch some fireworks at a friend of the family's. They happened to have a large quantity of alcohol, and needless to say, we all drank way too much. I know that I wasn't setting the best example by drunk posting, but shit, I'd say we've earned a respite from all this. 


It was nice in a way. Lillith and her parents both were happy. Like they were before all of this started - like they were before Robert died. In a way, it was nice to see them like that - though, the fact it takes getting drunk to do it isn't a good sign. 


As for sober-Lillith - she's doing much better. We've been getting...closer again, and it's almost like it was when we first met - I shouldn't be doing this, but I think she's still attracted to me - just like I still am with her. But she has a boyfriend and I'm not going to be the "other man". But in terms of her health, she's great - she's eating more, being more active and still hasn't written in the notebook since I got here. 


As for the notebook itself - well, you saw the pages. I'll try my best to make my own analysis of them: 


-The main one I pointed out was the stick figure with the words "HE WEAVES", "I LIKE ROBERT" and "NO HOPE". Now, it's clear that the figure is The Weaver - though, from what I saw in my dream, he's not just a black stick man; then again, Lillith has been historically terrible at art(something she admits). It's also got the bags and string coming out of it's back, in place of those tentacles; the bags and string are used to hold organs, like it did with Robert. 


-The next page is just some writing "DREAMS", "THE WAKING IS NOSAFE", and "WHY?". I have to assume that this is just after Lillith started writing in the journal, because it's the one that's the most dry, ink-wise. I know that this Weaver attacks in dreams, but I assume that "the waking is no(t) safe" refers to her seeing it outside her house? I'd bet money that it was the case. 


-After that is the weird tree-drawing; almost mimicking Robert's death. It's like Lillith was there, except the tree didn't look like some kind of oversized testicle. She got it right, otherwise - right down to the bags. 


The words "ROBERT" and "FAMILY YOU NOT WHAT HE WANT NO MORE" are here; I assume Robert is just describing the stick figure of him impaled in the tree, but the one about family; I think it ties into the fact that her parents are getting better at a faster rate then Lillith. I'd guess that The Weaver tried to figure them out and found them lacking or - or something. 

- "HE WANTS THE TREE MAN NOW"; Essentially, now I know I'm being hunted. Wonderful.


-"DEADWOOD PLAYS THE GAME WITH TREE MAN SOON IT WILL BE HIS TURN" and "USELESS WILL I BE" - this is one of the more stranger pages in the notebook; I would have to assume that "DEADWOOD" may be the fucker who was sending me those notes, if so, he's a terrible player as I've not heard a thing from him. 


As for the other statement - well, it's a disturbing implication. What if after this "Game" that I'm playing, Lillith has no more uses for the Weaver and he - does what he did to Robert? I shudder to think but knowing what I do know, it's not an idea too far-fetched. 


-"I WONT LET YOU TAKE HIM FUCK YOU" and "HA HA HA OW"; This seems to be Lillith's way of defying The Weaver. She says that the notebooks are a conduit to relaying it's thoughts, so why wouldn't that work the other way? As in, Lillith can relay her own thoughts back to it if she needs to? I assume by the "OW" that it didn't like that. 


Those are just the pages I put up; there were well over 30+ pages mostly of scribblings that even I couldn't understand that I chose not to upload. 


Now, I need to go see about Lillith; girl has hangovers something fierce. 

Sunday, 1 July 2012

happy canada day

sorry i didnt put the thing up today

forgot till after i post ed about the the thing that it was canada day so

lillith me and her family went out and drank a lot it was fun

now im drunk as a skunk and cant really think straight i know this sets a bad aexample but whatever

ill post the analy sis after im done with the drunk thing

slee you foilks later

Saturday, 30 June 2012

The notebook

I promised I would give myself more time, but with how Lillith and I spend almost every waking moment together, I don't think I'll be able to find much time. So, yeah - I just finished looking through it. In fact, it's right next to me on the couch here; thankfully Lillith just fell asleep so it didn't disturb her to have me look through it - to clarify, she doesn't mind if I do look through it, it's just I don't want to be disrespectful and do it while she was up. 


That, and she's probably gone through too much already with the fucking thing. Not going to let her look at what she's drawn. 


Needless to say, the contents were - disturbing. Even more so then Robert's notebook. 


Most of it is just shaded-in pages with various words written on it, including "SUNDOWN" "HE COMES" "WAKING IS NOSAFE", and the like. I imagine this has to do with what she told me about The Weaver and how he comes while she was sleeping - which I don't understand. I've been here two nights now and she's slept soundly and felt no need to write in the notebook, she told me. 


Anyway - I'll discuss my theories after I'm done with summarizing the book. 


I managed to grab a few pictures off of my phone of the book, so instead of me writing out all of it, here are a few shots: 








Just for clarification - that pen was inside the notebook when I found it, so I moved it onto the sofa(the black part) but I ended up taking pictures on it as well when I found my lap wasn't the best place for pictures. 












Anyway, yeah. What's there to say? Apparently "Tree Man" is being sought after by the Weaver. 


As I've said before, and will say again, until he shows up; 


Fuck you. 


P.S: I'll post a detailed analysis later, if you all want. 







The notebook + Lillith's condition

I do have some good news to report on Lillith - she's sleeping right now, so I'm finally able to write this up. Meant to yesterday but I was just so busy with her - and sorry, Internet, helping my dear friend/ex-girlfriend takes precedent over letting you know about it at that time. 


Anyway, the good news is that she is improving day by day. Yesterday, on her parents' advice, we ordered some Chinese food, which is her favourite - and she ate like a pig(no offence, Lillith). Considering that she's been subsisting on stale bread and water for the past month according to Bryan and her parents, it's a significant improvement over everything, even if only one time. 


She's also been sleeping much better - she told me that before I came over, she only slept for an hour or so a night - and, in context, it would explain her zombie-like state. Now, since I've been over, she's been sleeping a full 8 hours or more, just like me. I don't want to sound presumptuous or anything, but it seems that since I've been here, she's getting better. 


I really don't know what to make of it. She's obviously happy to see me and such, but - why would my presence inspire her to start getting back to normal? Either way, I'm not going to question it - I'm just happy that, slowly but surely, she's getting better. She's even told me that her crippling headaches and nosebleeds are starting to go away, which I am super thankful for. 


Though, through all the positive news, comes the negative; her notebook. She told me she's been keeping one, just like Robert, and just like he told me once upon a time, when she writes in it, her pain and the like goes away. From what I can gather from Lillith and I's conversations, it seems as though the notebooks act as a conduit of sorts - Lillith says that her headaches and pain start when "the Weaver" wants to get her attention, and stops or lessens when she writes or draws in her notebook. It's almost as if writing or drawing in it allows what it's saying to be expressed, and thus, it stops putting mental pressure(I would assume) onto her mind. 


I haven't looked at Lillith's notebook yet, and I'm rather reluctant to. I know that I have to, but I'm not sure what I'll find in there - she's been keeping this notebook longer then Robert, and I don't want to do anything that will jeopardize her and her recovery. 


I'll give it another day. Tomorrow, I'll look at the notebook - and I will post what I find in an entry here. 


Now, I think Lillith is up, so I need to go make her some breakfast. 









Thursday, 28 June 2012

Update.

Just a small one. 


Nothing's happened since my last entry. Lillith seems to be getting a bit better - she's eating a bit more and doesn't look as pale as she did when I first got here. 


Other then that, nothing new. I'll try to keep you all updated on her condition, though - keep those well wishes coming. 

Tuesday, 26 June 2012

Settled in

I know it's a little late, but it took me this long to convince Lillith to go get some sleep. 


I got here around two pm this afternoon. The house looks as though no one's lived in it for a while - you could hear a pin drop the silence was so pronounced. Dust everywhere, everything all perfectly arranged - it was kind of eerie, I must admit. 


Anyway, I checked on Lillith's parents when I first arrived. They're fine - they said hello in their empty, robotic voices and continued eating their lunch. They seem to be recovering slightly - which is good. 


It's about a thousand steps away from Lillith, that's for sure. 


I found her in the living room, staring into the backyard. She looks utterly terrible, and I mean that. Her hair is all ragged and greasy - and I swear parts of it are falling out. She's wearing the same clothes I last saw her in - which was over a month ago. Not to insult her, but she smells awful; it's obvious she hasn't showered or done anything of the sort for weeks. 


It took me four hours to convince her to get a shower. I had to help her shower - I had to help a 22-year old woman shower herself and get cleaned up. It's not that she didn't know how - she just didn't care. She even told me straight up, "why bother? The Weaver will come and nothing will matter. It's just like Robert, Smith*(Not my real name, but I'm not putting that in here.) - we can try to save them, but nothing." 


After that, I sat her down at the kitchen table and questioned her gently. 


Most of it she refused to say anything, but there were a few parts that I remembered that I had to write down; 


Me: Lillith, honey, I'm trying to help you. I know what this is - what's going on here..


Lillith: That's the thing. You don't know - no one does. I tried to warn you all when he first started coming to me, but no one would listen. You would say it was in my head, that I was imagining things - well, it is in my head, all the time - but it's not imaginary.

It's voice calls to me. It's beautiful melody of malevolence. I know what Robert felt near the end. 



Me: What do you mean? What does it say? 


Lillith: you can't understand, Smith. No one can - not even me. But the pain it causes me to even look at it, to be around it - to hear it in my head, all the time. The notebook - 


Me: I know. Robert told me that they help. Do they? 


Lillith: Yeah. They do - I only could hold out for a few days before I started writing. And when I write - it's almost as if his voice flows onto the paper. It makes the headaches stop - it makes me not sick to my stomach. It makes my nose stop bleeding. 


Me: What does it do? I have the headaches, but...


Lillith: (At this point, she looked up right at me and her eyes...they were almost alight with intensity.) It's not ready for you yet, Smith. It still has to finish with me. 


Me: I won't let it. I don't care. 


Lillith: You're sweet, hun - maybe that's why I still care about you - but you can't stop it. No one can; Robert thought he could, but he failed. I see him more and more in my eyes now - not in the corners or as fleeting ghost images, but always now. And he's getting closer. 


Me: ...Okay, Lillith. Why do you call it The Weaver?

Lillith: The dreams. 


Me: I've had them. The dreams are - 


Lillith: Fucked up, aren't they? (She laughed nervously) - When I first started having them, they didn't make sense. But as he draws closer to you, they get more clear. He weaves your dreams. The Weaver. It makes sense. 


Me: I...see. Where is your notebook, Lillith? 


Lillith: Can't tell you. Not yet - if I tell you, then he will be mad. And I can't have that yet, Smith - when he's angry, he takes you...makes you do things. Things I can't remember. 


Me: It's okay, Lillith. Thanks for telling me. 


So, he's interested in me, but not until he's done with Lillith? 


Well, mr Weaver - fuck you. 


Fuck you and whatever dimensional or Biblical train you rode in on. 





Monday, 25 June 2012

Heading to Lillith's tomorrow

I  got a call this afternoon from Bryan, Lillith's boyfriend. He told me that he needs to go back to Waterloo for some family stuff or what not - and he's asked me to come over and look after Lillith to make sure everything stays okay with her. 


According to him, Lillith's gone downhill since I was last over there. She refuses to eat or drink anything but water and stale bread and spends all her time looking out the window. According to Bryan, she's attacked him on several occasions in a near-crazed state, claiming that "the weaver" was coming to get her. 


If this "weaver" is Mr Slim, then we're in trouble. 


Bryan also says that she's keeping a notebook, just like Robert. 


Great. Fucking great. I don't want to see her go down this road. Not again. Oh God, not again. 


Her parents are just kind of ghosts. They hardly leave their bedroom except to eat or use the washroom. So, basically, it is just her. Which is why I need to be over there - if Lillith is falling fast then someone needs to be there to help her. 


I'm going to see if I can do something. Anything for her - I won't lose her like I lost Robert. 


I know I shouldn't, but I need to ask her some questions as well. About all of this - if I can find out anything about what she's seen, it might help me in understanding my dreams - I hope. I know that she's suffering, but it may be the only hope I've got to attempting to fix this, or at least understanding it a bit more. 


I'll probably update you when I've settled there tomorrow afternoon. 


I've never been one to ask for best wishes, but if you people out there on the Internet can give them, I'll need as many wishes as you can muster. 



Saturday, 23 June 2012

Thief!

From the title, as you can probably tell, dinner didn't go as planned. 

We had a good supper, mind you, but it was when we got home - about an hour ago, now - that we had a problem. 

As we came into the apartment(we live in the basement floor, so we had to go down stairs), I saw someone -leaving- the apartment, wearing my blue flannel coat(it's light, so I wear it even in the summer. Yes, I wear a coat in the summer. Shut up.). Naturally, I gave chase after this person - and shit, could he run. 

I chased him down probably  half the street before I had to give up because of my back giving out on me(almost had him too, which pissed me off).

I didn't manage to see much of anything on him while giving chase - I was more concerned with keeping up with him, but I noticed that he(I presume it was a he) was wearing black jeans which were very tattered and old-looking. 

So, I had a thief steal my -coat- of all things wearing old jeans. I get the feeling this is unrelated - we've searched the house top to bottom and found no new notes or anything else. 

Either way, I thought it would make an amusing entry. 

Shame about my coat. I rather liked it. Poor Lillith is going to be heartbroken - she loved that coat. 

Taking a little break

Nothing major, I assure you. 


My parents and I are going out to dinner tonight, so I'll be able to stop wrecking my brain over that dream and the others that I barely remember. 


I have to say, though; all of this is starting to wear me down. I mean, all of the notes, the dreams, the paranoid feelings...it's hard to resist it all when it comes, all of the time. It's as if I'm trying to hold back a tidal wave with a stick. I just get the feeling that I won't be able to hold all of this stuff back for long. 


Though, the more I think about it, it doesn't matter. I don't care how intense the headaches get, how bad the paranoia gets, I won't give in. I can't. I owe it to myself - and more so, to Robert and his family. 


It's just hard to go on sometimes. With all that's happened and still happening - it's as if something is saying "give up". But I've never been one to call it quits on a situation; I can't give up. Not now, not ever. I have to fight my way through all of this. If I can get to the end, great. 


If not, at least I'll be satisfied at fighting until the end. 



Friday, 22 June 2012

Dream Analysis

I'm still sick today but I felt that I owed you guys this, so here is my dream analysis from the night of June 19th, 2012 - I wrote most of this down immediately after I woke up, so most of it was probably fresh in my mind at the time. I've tried to write it down word-for-word from the notebook it was in, so this is going to be a transcription, I suppose: 


"I remember I was in a wooded area. There were trees all over, like I was deep in or something. The thing I remember most is the silence - there were no birds, no insects, nothing - it was just dead silent. It was a dark night and there was no moon. Or at least I couldn't see the moon from the clouds, and that scared me a lot.


I heard someone's voice calling from the woods. It was a...sweet, almost haunting melodic voice. I remember it was calling me to walk into the brush, so I did. As I walked through the forest, I noticed how there were bags and bags everywhere on all the trees. The same bags that we found Robert's organs in. Except that there were dozens, if not hundreds of them, spread out throughout the forest. It was un nerving.


As I followed the voice it got louder and louder until it lead me to a small outcropping, a rock with the point facing up - the point, it was leading me back to the point.


And there I saw it...well, whatever it was. 


It was like a man, but not. this was no regular man. if I had to guess, he would have been roughly eight or nine feet tall, as he towered over myself and the rocks. I remember as I got closer to him I felt a sense of...wrongness. as if we both didn't belong where we were. 


Then he turned around. The face was empty - there was nothing there. No eyes, no nose, or a mouth. Just a blank nothingness. I also saw he was wearing a black business suit, just like Robert said about "a man in a suit with no face". 


And the tentacles. They were at his back, at least eight of them, maybe more. they were hideous long black appendages. they wriggled around as if excited by my presence. After that it started to speak. This is all I remember: 


'I know you. 


and soon, you will know me.'


then I woke up with a start, sweat all over my face." 




....And that's that. 




I don't know where to start. The bags I know, since that's exactly how we found Robert. The Point,  I don't know - it meant something to Robert as he wrote that in his notebook, but...why should I be there? I liked going there but not enough to spend as much time there as Robert did. Is there some connection there I'm missing? 


And as for our friend there, it seems by this dream, if it's not all just my mind playing tricks on me, that he's taking an interest in me. What that means - well, I'll have to see. It can't be any worse then the stuff going on now. 


Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go lay down. This headache is driving me insane. 



Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Dream analysis incoming tomorrow

Finally remembered some of my dream from last night.

Sadly, I'm not feeling the best - have a bit of a cold, so I've been in bed all day. I plan on writing up what I discovered tomorrow though.

Be patient. I'm still alive, so never you fear.

Sunday, 17 June 2012

Dreams and an Explanation

It's been 2 days since my last post about the dreams I've been having, and I thought I should keep you guys in the loop about it. 


I'm still having them, and no, I still can't remember much beyond fragments -fragments that make no sense. If I go by the dream I had last night then I went to a river on a date with a tree, which ended in me french-kissing a pinecone. 


To use a phrase the Internet uses, "da fuq". 


I'd like to think aspects of the dream are just something out of my past. For example, I do remember kissing someone in the dream - and I did kiss someone(Lillith) in my past, obviously(wouldn't have been much of a relationship without kissing and the occasional sex). But still, it's odd that these dreams would resurface after all this time - and after what happened. 


Anyway, I also wanted to clarify what I said about Tall, Dark and Scary in my last update. It's odd, because Robert himself told me about the guy - how he would just stand there, across the street, staring at him. Sometimes he would end up right by Robert's window - which was on the second floor of the house, but that's beyond me. We're not dealing with a rapist on stilts here - though I wish we were, as it would be much easier to deal with. 


But the thing is, I don't see anything. Nowhere. Nothing. No faceless man with a suit around me. 


Lillith swears she sees him out of the corner of her eye every now and then; when I was over the other day about the note, she kept staring out of her screen door towards the apple orchard in their backyard(It's a big backyard, mind you). I asked her if she was seeing anything, and she just kept saying how she kept seeing "him out of the corner of my eye. Just watching me, like he watched Robert." Again, there was -nothing- there. 


I can't shake the feeling of being watched even when there's no one there. 


I don't see anything, my parents don't see anything, and that's that. Still, it's got me on edge. Like, a lot. And the funny thing is - I feel compelled to start writing shit down in notebooks. I don't even know WHAT to write, but my mind keeps telling me to write something down, that it'll ease the tension. Though, with what I know about those fucking notebooks, I'm resisting it now as hard as I can. I can't give in - else that might do to me what it did to Robert, I don't know. 


I'll keep searching. Maybe I'll be able to remember something about my dreams. I hope something comes to me - I hate fumbling around in the dark with no light. 

Friday, 15 June 2012

Seems the feds missed something!

Your favorite blogger here. 


Yesterday, I went over to Robert's house because Lillith called me. She said she had something that I would want to see. 


I didn't know what she would have meant, but I decided to go. 


It turns out, the CSIS agents missed a page of Robert's notebook. Lillith said that she found it while cleaning out Robert's closet - it seems that he ripped it out and threw it in there. It was pretty crumbled up and missing parts of it, but it seemed to have been there for a while - it was hidden under a pile of old clothes. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Robert was trying to hide it. 


That begs two questions, "Why?" and "Who from?". I really don't care about either of them right now, but I took a good look at the page before Lillith wanted it back - rather, she snatched it back. I can see this is getting to her - she looks like she hasn't slept in days. Bryan, her boyfriend, is doing all he can to help her, but he says she's just getting more and more irritable. 


Anyway, as for the page: 


-It was all filled in in black pen, except for the centre. 


-In the centre was a drawing of a BIG ass figure. At least, it looked like a figure. As in, there was a head, but it was like the figure had multiple bodies. Not arms or legs as I could tell. It looked like some kind of spider or crawler - which is just what I need, more night terrors. Thank you, journal page. 


-At the top of the drawing was scribbled the words "HEVISISTSMEALTHETIMENOW I CANT MAKE HIMSTOP". 


....At the bottom? My name. 


It seems like Robert made this picture for me. But why? What does Tall, Dark and Scary have to do with me? Lillith did say Robert talked about seeing "a tall guy with a bunch of arms" outside their house, but no one saw it - not his parents, not Lillith, and certainly not myself. 


And that's the thing. I still haven't seen anything. 


Was this just some kind of supernatural calling out? That shit was, as they say, "going to get real"? If so, fuck you. If not - fuck you. 



Thursday, 14 June 2012

Still alive + dreams

It's just me. I'm sorry about the delay - nothing's happened, I assure you. 


There's not been much activity on my end, aside from my dreams. I should have blogged about it sooner, considering it's been going on almost non-stop since I put up the last entry here. 


It's funny. Most nights they're vague - I can barely remember them. The funny thing is the sense of dread I get. This isn't like the old night terrors about giant bugs I used to get - fuck, I hated those - this is like pure terror. At what? I don't know. As I said, I don't remember most of the dreams - or if I do, they fade after I wake up. 


I get the feeling my dreams are the start of what happened to Robert - he told me that he was having dreams. What I didn't say is that he said they started as jumbles, just like mine are right now. I don't know - I haven't had any compulsion to write in a notebook, though, so for that I'm thankful - I don't have a notebook to write in, even if I wanted to. 


Still, it's unsettling that these dreams just came on like that. 


If anything does happen - or if I remember anything about these dreams - I'll put an entry up, I promise. 



Saturday, 9 June 2012

Nothing yet

Sorry for the lack of updates, folks - it's been quiet here. Too quiet. 


I've been busying myself with more video games while I wait for anything to happen - needless to say, the anxiety of all this has made my doctor increase the dose of my anti-anxiety medications(yes, I take pills. Who cares?). 


Though - the paranoia is starting to get annoying, with or without the meds. It seems to be constant - as if I know something is coming for me. The notes are giving me "warnings", to what I don't know - and I've already gotten two. I'm starting to think a third warning wouldn't be very good for me or my family. I guess on a lead off from the "something is coming for me" bit, I constantly feel like I'm being watched by someone. I'd like to think the note taker has fucked off back to wherever it is they go, but - I just get the feeling they're outside my apartment, looking to see what my next move is. 


I've been out there to confront them, but there's no one there. Every time I'm inside, I feel it, but when I go outside, there's nothing there at all. 


I'm either:


A) Losing my mind, which seems the most likely scenario at this point. Who wouldn't start to show signs of mental instability when you've seen your best friend dissected and impaled at the top of a tree, his organs put in bags scattered around the fucking branches like Christmas ornaments? 


B) Actually being watched. Which - disturbingly enough - also seems likely. I just can't shake the feeling that he's out there, taunting me. I know it might seem irrational, but - I never really say no to my hunches. 


I'll keep waiting. I have to. I have nothing else to go on at this point other then two cryptic notes and a paranoid feeling. Oh, this will end so well...

Wednesday, 6 June 2012

Decoded the second note

It's been quiet the last 2 days, and for that I'm thankful. 


Robert's family let me know his funeral will be in late August. Not looking forward to it - I hate funerals. Especially this one, considering Robert was in the prime of his life and didn't deserve what happened to him. 


As for the note, I managed to decrypt the scramble of words. It seems whoever is doing this is either uncreative or there's a meaning to it, but it was yet another regular re-arranged few words. Last time, I believe, it came out to "FIRST WARNING". 


This time, it came out to "SECOND WARNING". 


Again, warnings about what? If I knew what this person was on about, I would be better able to understand why this was going on. But since, to my knowledge, I've done nothing other then go hiking, take pictures and find my friend's dead body - there's nothing to warn me about. If any of you can offer any advice, I'd be appreciative. 


For now, I'll keep silent and wait for this note-taker to make his next move. 





Monday, 4 June 2012

World of Strange Note-Craft

So, I got home about 15 minutes ago. And guess what I found on my front door....






Yep, that's right. This fucker is back. It was pinned there for who knows how long, but because of what was written on the back, I'm starting to think that this person somehow knew about where I was and what I was doing - however that's possible. After I got inside, I asked my parents if they had seen anything strange while I was gone. They said that no, they hadn't. 


I took the note into my room and examined it again. Here are the contents: 



This one's actually written in plain English, up until the end. I'm surprised. I've transcribed it below so you guys can see it better as I know my phone camera isn't of the best quality: 




"How does it feel TREEMAN? 


You arE still too closE. Your 


friEnd RobErt was also too closE 


and look at him now. 


SCAINNDORFGWN"



I have no idea what the fuck this means, or how he knows anything about Robert. I've only told my parents and Robert's close friends. Though, at this point, this fucker could be anyone. I shouldn't be so angry but why now? I'm in mourning, my best friend is dead, the government's taken an interest in his murder and now I'm getting creepy-ass notes from the same idiot who hasn't' bothered me in over a month? What the hell, man? 




But the note itself isn't what creeped me out. It was the back which got me: 






Yep. "WELCOME HOME". Which means this guy knew when I would be home and when would be best to deliver it to me. Great. 




The only thing strange about the writing, aside from the gibberish, was that all the e's were capitalized in some weird fashion, with an extra long "stick". I don't know if that means anything or it's just a quirk of the asshole, but whatever. 


It looks like I won't get to grieve for Robert properly without having to worry about this again. Fuck....

Sunday, 3 June 2012

Going home tomorrow

I've asked Robert's parents if they want me to stay until after the funeral to help them around the house if they need it(as they aren't doing that well - can you blame them?) but they said there's no need since Lillith is back and is helping around the house. So, I'll be heading back home tomorrow - in a way, I'm looking forward to it, but in another way I'm not as there's still the matter of his family and how they're holding up.


Lillith is taking it the best. Well, "best" as in "she spends half her day crying before coming down from her room and helping me tidy up". Her boyfriend Bryan is coming down from Waterloo to stay with her so at least she won't be fully alone down here. 


Robert's parents, as I said, are taking it worse then Lillith. His father just...sits at the kitchen table and stares out the window - it's like he's waiting for someone who's not there. He's got an almost robotic voice to him now - when I knew him, he was a very passionate and spirited man. Now - it's like he's a ghost. As for his mother - well, I've hardly spoken to her since they got the news about Robert's autopsy. She just stays in the living room and reads the same romance novel over and over again. 




I guess people have different ways of coping, but it doesn't seem healthy to do what they're doing. However, it's not my place to judge - nor would I want to be in their shoes. I took it hard enough, losing my best friend. If he were family, well...I don't know what I'd do. I want to find justice for Robert, but part of me knows that true justice won't happen - even the police can't seem to find anything based on who did this. There's no finger-prints, no witnesses, nothing. All we have - sorry, had to go on - were those notebooks. But now they're gone too. 




I forgot to mention. Those CSIS agents came to visit yesterday, just after Robert's parents got back from a funeral home from coffin-shopping. They were polite, but stern. They said they needed to search Robert's room as "a matter of national security". National security, over one dead 19 year old? It was odd, but what could we say? "Hell no"? So, they searched for a good 20 minutes before coming down to the living room where I was with Robert's mother. The first one - he looked grizzled, at least 55 - asked in a very stern voice if they knew of any artwork or notebooks Robert kept. 


Robert's mother almost threw the notebook at him before I could say anything. He took it, read through it and showed it to his partner before putting the notebook into a plastic bag they brought with them. I asked them why they wanted the notebook; it might be the only lead into figuring out what happened to Robert. 


It was the second guy - he seemed to be in his 30's, much less grizzled - who said that the notebook needed to be destroyed as a "matter of national interest". Again with that "national security" stuff. We couldn't argue, and they took the notebook with them and left. 


I still don't know what to make of those two agents. Not my place to - but I wish we still had the damned notebook. I still had 30+ pages to go through. 

Friday, 1 June 2012

Autopsy Report

No, I'm not going into graphic detail here for you people. 


The ME called Robert's family into the morgue. Since I wasn't family, I had to wait outside, but they briefed me in full when they came out. 


This is where it gets really fucking weird. 


According to the ME:


-Robert's been dead about 6-8 hours judging by the body temperature.


-There were markings on Robert's hands and feet, indicating he was bound somewhere before he was killed. The ME couldn't identify what kind of markings it was though; he did say it was "too smooth to be rope".


-There were no markings or injuries to his body other than the impalement on the tree. Yes, you heard me. Someone - or something - got Robert's organs OUT of his body with surgical precision(according to the ME) without a fucking scratch on him. 


-What's worse, the ME believes that Robert was ALIVE while his organs were being removed. 


What kind of sick fuck does that? No, I'm wrong - what kind of sick fuck CAN DO what was done to Robert? You can't just remove someone's organs without making some kind of a mark on his body. That's just not fucking possible. Naturally, the ME has ruled Robert's death "homicide via unknown methods". 


Well, I should say - it shouldn't be possible, but...with what I know, I'd say it's plenty possible. 


I'm going to be staying with Robert's family for the next week or so as they adjust to all this shit - it's the least I can do. 



Thursday, 31 May 2012

The Full Story

I won't say sorry for yesterday's post. After all, I did just find the body of my best friend impaled in a tree. 


But I do feel that you folks are owed an explanation to what really happened. Not just my...brief report on the situation. 


I'm better now today, but - yeah. I'm not back to normal. I don't think I will be for a long time after what happened to him. Shit, I can't even talk about it without shaking. But I owe it to Robert to tell his story - and hopefully someone can help me understand more about how this happened. Not just what happened, but -how-. What happened defies the laws of...well, anything. 




As I said, on my advice, a helicopter took us(by "us", I'm referring to myself and three OPP officers with a K9) out to The Point. Now, The Point is, as I said, in a very dense forested area, so a helicopter was the only way we would be able to reach the area in a quick way. By foot, it would take about four hours(EDIT: days? I just noticed this now that I fucked up the time span? Go me) of walking to get there. When we got there, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It was quiet - now that I think about it, too quiet. There weren't any birds or insects making noise - it was like a wake. Deathly silent. 


We spread out and started looking for any sign of him. About 15 minutes into the search, one of the officers calls us over to his location(We were equipped with GPS and walkie-talkies just to be on the safe side), saying he's found something. The bags. We found the first of the bags there. It didn't even look like anything out of the ordinary - just a regular black garbage bag. But this was the thing; it was suspended by a rope from the branches of one of the trees. It felt heavy, so we cut it open. 


That's when Robert's liver fell into my hands. 


I promptly lost my lunch all over the place - but it was then that the other officers started finding more bags, tied to branches of the same tree. There were a good six or seven in all, I don't really remember specifics. 


It was around that time we received a radio call from the helicopter pilot saying that he's "found something" at the top of the tree. Due to the tree's height(well over 15 feet if I had to guess), we didn't know what was at the top of it. But it had the bags in it's branches, so....if I had known then I would have guessed sooner. 


It was Robert. He was stuck to the top of the tree, impaled through the stomach like some sort of skewer.


 Cue me again losing my lunch, breakfast, and snack all over the forest bed. 


Anyway, the 'copter called for immediate reinforcements and within the hour, the Point was flooded with police, fire personnel and the like. I'm still trying to get the liver smell out of my hands, by the way. 


The medical examiner is going to be doing an autopsy today to find out the cause of death...if it isn't already obvious. 


HE WAS MISSING HIS FUCKING ORGANS! 


Though, the ME is confused - he said that Robert wasn't eviscerated, that it looked as though there was no damage to him aside from the impalement of the tree. 


But the strangest thing was who else showed up at the crime scene. It was two agents of the CSIS, the Canadian Security Intelligence Service(Think our version of the CIA or something). I knew because they had the fucking logo on their card. They told me that they would be in touch with me and Robert's family. I don't know what the hell for, but...


If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go vomit and cry for the rest of the day. 





Wednesday, 30 May 2012

cant think

not going to bother with preamble still in shock

we found robert. er, what's left of him

not at the point but there were

bags

we opened the bags

organs. his body was impaled at the top of one of the trees by the point. the bags were found in the branches of the trees. i got to hold my best friends liver it felt nice in my warm hands

cant think

my best friend gone like this what the fuck what the fuck


Tuesday, 29 May 2012

Nothing yet

Spent the night at my house last night, forgot my computer at Robert's house. Back there now though. 


Spent the last 48 hours searching for him non-stop. Checked most of the forest so far, told the OPP about The Point and the notebook. They think it might be worth checking out at least, so a rescue copter is going to fly me out there tomorrow morning. 


Will post if anything turns up. 

Sunday, 27 May 2012

Heading out for Queenston Heights

The OPP found Robert's car at the parking lot near Queenston Heights. 

They're beginning a massive search of the forest area(it's massive) later today. I'll be joining the officers and the other volunteers. We'll be starting at the Brock Monument and combing our way throughout. 

I had a hunch that Queenston Heights was a possibility; in his notebook, Robert seems to mention over and over again the words "THEPOINT".

Now, I don't know if it's related - judging by the fact they found his car there, it probably is - but "The Point" is an area deep inside the forest around there that we used as a hang out spot for years. 

Still did, up until last year when the trail leading there was closed off. We called it "The Point" because it was topped by a rock laying so one of the edges was facing up; and it was a sharp edge for a rock. 


We spent a lot of time there as younger kids, especially during high school - it's where Lillith and I first hooked up(outdoor sex is the best sex). 

Anyway, we have a lead at least. The forest itself is massive, but we have a lot of volunteers to comb the area. As I said, I'll be one of them. It could take days to search the whole forest, but when I get the chance I'll try to write something up. This blog is sort of becoming a "haven" for all the shit going on in my life. I dunno but in a weird, morbid way, I feel better when I write about all this so you people can read it. 

I hope we find him. Robert, if you're out there - hold on. We're comin', buddy. 



Thursday, 24 May 2012

Starting the search

It's been 3 days - the OPP(Ontario Provincial Police) and the like have been at Robert's house all day looking for evidence. 


Showed them the notebook, they dismissed it outright. Asked some questions about where he might go, favorite places, etc. 


I'll keep digging through the notebook - so far nothing, but that could change in a hurry. 


Will keep up-to-date on the search if anything comes up. 

Wednesday, 23 May 2012

fuck fuck fuck

Robert's missing. 


Shit shit shit shit shit 


His mother called me this morning(not afternoon...duh) asking me if he was with me the last two nights as he hasn't been home. 


Naturally I hadn't seen him; I had assumed that he was at home. She told me she called all over but no one has seen him. 


His parents called the police, but of course we have to wait 72 hours before they can begin a search. His car is gone, so it'll need to be a big search. 


I just can't believe this. I last spoke to him Monday night - though, I should have seen it coming. He was getting much worse. He told me that the notebook didn't help and that "He" was showing Robert things that were uncomprehending in our plane of existence. I don't know what the fuck that means(and I don't want to know), but it was clear that his sanity was fading fast. He told me that soon, "He will send for me and I will go because it is better to die then live under His thumb". 


Fuck. Lillith is coming down from university to both be with her family and help in the search - when there is one. I'll be there too to help, but....I just can't believe this. 


I feel so guilty. Why Robert? He's done nothing to no one. He's a good kid, a good friend...he and I have been through so much. 


I'm going to do what I can to find him. Whatever it takes - I don't care now. 


I'll be spending the night at his house with Lillith and his parents - they say I can look through his room and see what I can find. I'll be taking the fucking notebook, that's for sure - I have to see what he wrote down. There might be something in the crazy scribblings that can help us find him. 



Monday, 21 May 2012

Nothing really to report

Again, sorry about the silence on my end. I've been playing a LOT of video games(mostly Skyrim) to keep my mind off all the shit going on - it's helped distract me for at least a few days from all of this, so for that I'm thankful. 


I'm still speaking to Robert everyday via Skype. There's been hardly no change in him; in fact, he seems to be getting worse - it looks to me he's not eating, he's hardly slept in the last 3 days, and his appearance is just...awful. Dishevelled and wearing the same clothes. The damned notebook is almost full, he said. 


I've begged him - no, pleaded with him - to stop, but he still won't. He tells me that "He" will be coming for him as soon as the notebook is full, and there's nothing I or anyone else can do about it. He seems resigned that "He" will "get him and - do the things he puts in my dreams". I mean, this is some scary shit. I mean, this is happening to my best friend and there's nothing I can do about it. I feel so fucking hopeless - I've always been able to help SOMEONE in my life, but with something of this magnitude I can't do a whole lot of anything right now. 


He may be mad at me for this but I've told his parents and Lillith about his habits. They've tried to take the notebook away, get him to shower, convince him he's alright. They've even threatened to go to the police if he keeps up this behaviour; I know they mean well, but there's not much that they can do to really help Robert. He seems resigned to whatever fate he thinks awaits. 


I can't help but feel responsible; as Robert said in the car, this started with me and that fucking note. But, I told him - I didn't even think much about the note. It was just a note until someone recommended me to peruse the Web to see if there was any other similarities to me receiving one.  I'm hoping that he recovers, but at this point I doubt he will based on the experiences recorded by other people who've fallen into this. 




I'm going to keep in touch with Robert as long as I can, and help him as long as I can. But...I'm just so scared for him, for Lillith, for everyone involved in this fucked-up shit. 


I can't help but think I've damned my best friend and his family...