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". 



  1. was fun being your freind, Mr. Smith. From the widow of a hunter proxy-- good luck and keep your head down. And of course, stay in touch if you need a listening ear.

  2. Thanks, Lucia.

    I'm not heading out for a few days - as I said, I haven't seen anything of Him since I finished off Deadwood - and being dehydrated from spending 20+ hours outside doesn't help, either.

  3. Yesss, it's wise to make sure you're healthy before you go. No telling when the next time you'll be able to rest will be.

    Do you plan to keep his mask? Those are an incredibly personal touch for may find it more proper to leave it somewhere quiet.

  4. Call me insane, but it seems when I have it around, it keeps the dreams from coming back.