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


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


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'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. 


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.