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.
Friday, 27 July 2012
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
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 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.
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
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)
(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
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
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