Monday, May 30, 2011

Twenty-something Post 4

Sorry for disappearing earlier folks
Went to sneak into a house
Triggered the alarm
Had to gain distance
Slept a few hours in the woods
Up again
Thought I heard something
Probably did
Probably Prosper
It was

I could see him sitting on a log
Off in the distance
Hunched over
Looked dead where he sat
Completely still
Stayed like that for a while
Then slowly he looked my way
My skin burned
I worried it would sizzle off
Then it was gone
The feeling
His head tilted up past me
Then I paled
I grabbed a rock next to me when I turned
Threw it at the Suit

Kept running till I came to a house
Slipped in
Was found
Attacked one another
Both defensively
Backed off
He is strange
But offered help
Least with my wounds
I held my tongue
Did not speak
Still havent
Nodded instead
Claimed to be a doctor
I glanced at a mirror
Least I wasnt filthy anymore
The previous house helped
Maybe he didnt see my as some wild jungle woman
I am glad I broke into those houses now
I doubt I would be getting assistance had I looked like the swamp monster

Sitting in a chair
Typing this while he gets supplies to help my wounds
Drugs are gone I think
Can you tell?
I think I can
I can hear him
He has a strange smile
Drawing me into comfort
Yet making my instincts push away from it
I do not want to sleep here
I think I will stay awake
Leave when he falls asleep
He has to sleep
Then again
Why was he even awake?

Ask later
Need aid with injuries though
Too much sweat
Moisture has slipped into the wounds
Too many germs
The risk is necessary

Hope Mystery is alright
Still watching for signs
Very worried

Stay safe

She threw away paradise
One blink of eyes
and it was gone
She did it on purpose

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Twenty-something Post 3

Cant sleep
Too quiet
Dont trust
Saw someone earlier
Appeared laxed
Back turned away
Could hear breathing
Low breaths
Looked around
No one
Looked back
He was turned and looking at me
In my direction
One of Them

White mask
Black lips
Smudged circles around eyes
Xs over each eye
Like all he saw was that symbol
Defining what he is
Who he serves
This was 269

He turned away halfway
Examined the arm I dislocated and broke
He knew I was there
Showing off his fixed self
Taunting me
Blood boiled
He lowered his arm
Looked forward
The direction I am heading in
Began walking
Looking back at me
Then faded
Like a ghost
Like Executor
269 might not be just a lackey

I worried he was going to my home
My kin
No though
I have seen him a couple times
Popping up
Never confronting
Just following
Why are you watching only?

I sit in the woods this night
Unable to sleep
My leg is not infected
Fixed it the last two days
Broke into two houses
Slept in the shed of one
Basement of another
Families that worked
Children that went to school
Bare houses
Cleaned up
Found a charger
Borrowed it
Will mail back in a few days

The Suit didnt return
Hasnt been back since that morning
Isnt this prime time to attack?
Instead I am followed
Executor on the run
Is that why?

After effects of drugs
Kicking in
Will feel better soon
Sore now
Pissed off
Keep thinking
Reflections of then

Have to get home
No one is coming
Only watching
No one ever comes
No one ever comes
Like back then

Let no one come

I find my way back home
I find my way back home
I can find my way back home

Stay safe

Dont follow
Her swan song will
be like a bullet laced in anger

But do not follow
She will bleed your world dry
if she has to

Friday, May 27, 2011



Found a house finally, snuck into it. Residents are asleep, computer is downstairs. On guest account, heh. Keeping this short. So tired... No. Hurry. Mystery is gone, perfect timing right? I'm concerned. On Twitter he posted a cut off code for danger. Trying to track or find any messages or get an idea of what this means.

Wildman is my first suspect. Mystery was concerned earlier and displayed it openly. I am so tired, the anger, the worry, it adds stress to this breaking body and mind. I don't suspect the Executor, nor his companion Proxy 269. It seems my previous captor is too busy running from Victor (Good! Fucking run!). You never know, but in regards to earlier when we were conversing common sense leans towards the brute that's been stalking him.

While I can give you no description on Mystery I can go ahead and give you what Mystery said in his own words about Wildman:

"Though the big one seems not to like the little one. It chases him around and around the park. I've taken to calling the big one Wildman (of Borneo). His one defining feature is the hair... long, lank, grizzly hair. He hasn't gotten within a yard of me, but I imagine he smells. Just a guess.

The little one, I don't know. I only noticed it a day ago. It dropped out of a tree practically on top of Wildman. Never saw one of Them run so fast. Both of them disappeared into the trees. The little one is very small, very thin. Could just be a kid, but that doesn't explain why Wildman fled the scene and seems to be avoiding it whenever I can even spot the little one."

If anyone recognizes someone fighting a person (or people) fitting that (these) description(s) you need to alert me immediately.

I can't stay long. Can't risk it. I'm debating on heading into Mystery's direction but that seems like suicide, in my condition I'd only burden any attempts at survival. I see the pocket knife next to me, finely sharpened not by me, but by the Executor during my stay. I feel like my small weapon was raped. This is bullshit but there is little we can do as of now. I'm going to settle in the basement of this house, took a peek around when I initially entered. There is a hidden spot behind some crap, cold floor but fuck it. House is pretty warm. Will sleep for a few hours. Find where I am in the morning. Hopefully have some word from Mystery by then.

Wildman, I swear... Everything I would have done to Bad Man Walking I will do to you ten fold, should you have hurt Mystery. Should anything happen. Your master will shiver when He sees what I have done to you. Unlike Mystery I am not a pacifist, I have no qualms in tearing down everything you know and everything you are. This is not an empty threat, it is a goddamn promise.
No one touches friends/allies/people I give a damn about. No one especially touches kin, and Mystery is as close to me as my own blood relatives are.

I can't find any signs aside from our Twitter conversation. I read the fire incident and everything before. Mystery's kin are safe, at least he believes so. But is he? That question pulls at me, it concerns me. I can't aimlessly go into his direction, though. None of us can. Please, Mystery, if you are alright let us know. I'm really hoping your computer just glitched out or something but... Fuck, the likeliness in that timing... We both know, don't we? You're a strong one. I refuse to assume the worse and I will slap anyone else who does.

I need to lay back, even if it is on a the hard floor in the basement. Need a few hours. Need to think.
I'll post updates on Twitter when I get on the road again. Going to keep looking for something, even if I have to check every page and every lead fifty times. Some clue as to where he went... Smarter than that. He'll have a plan even when attacked. I'm sure of it.

I don't know how many of these chances I will get, how much access I will have to a computer either. Might bounce from house to house if I can. Have to find a way to power up the cellphone too, it's running really low. Will rummage this house for something tomorrow. Here's to hoping it is empty.
Here's to hoping Mystery is alright.
Stay safe. Please.


Thursday, May 26, 2011

Twenty-something Post 2

Woke up
Slept curled up on the ground in woods
He was a few feet away
I didnt move
Like if I didnt He wouldnt see me
He did
He always does
I grabbed my open pocketknife
He leaned down halfway
I brought the pocketknife closer to myself
He tilted his head
I pushed myself up like I was going to confront him
Bolted right
Ran through the woods
Could see him every so often
He didnt need to run
He was at certain points
Then He was just there
In front of me
I stopped sharply
I raised the knife to my neck
We regarded one another
Would I do it?
Would He make me do it?
Did I want to do it?
I didnt
Would I?
Yea I fucking would
Spite Him
Fuck you
He straightened
He left
I waited like that just in case
He didnt return
I started walking again
I didnt stop until the sun was up
I typed this
I posted this

Dont understand
Havent see him in years outside of dreams
You took him
What happened to him?
What happened to me?

The drugs are leaving system
Hysteria dying
Think tomorrow the drugs will be out
Heres to hoping

Going to keep walking
Found road last night
Staying near in woods
Looking for street signs
Stay safe

A life of forgetting is no life at all.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Twenty-something Post.

Captured by Executor and Advocate
Dont know how long
Mind fucked
Time distorted
Dont know
Sitting on a rock in woods
Dont know where
Got out hours ago
Kept running
Was in an abandoned building
Bad smell
Covered in dry blood
Tattered clothes
A mess

Shit is fucked up
Mind somewhat dissected but Executor couldnt get what he wanted
Broken mind
Physical torture was bad
I laughed to spite them
I unwillingly cried from natural reaction
I yelled very nasty things at them
Didnt help
Felt good though
They hated when I was silent
So I was mostly

If you see a man with a white mask
Aark rings around the eyes
And a giant X across the lower half of its face
That means you just got mind fucked by the Executor
Oh yes
Figures his mask would look a little like bondage
Or is that just me?
Have to have something to chuckle about
Something at least

Beware of the Advocate
He wears a white masquerade mask
Black tribal symbols around eyes
One side of mask bare
Other covered in symbols
Maybe occult

Will post Twitter updates
Every few hours
Post here nightly
Till I find my way home
And murder the replacement that wears my face

Stay safe

It is so dark and cold out here

Friday, May 20, 2011

Twenty-Third Post.

I think I fucked up my left thumb, flexing my hand out flat makes spike of pain shoot through it and to my wrist. Been like this two days now. I don't think it's just something I slept on funny either. It is not pleasant, I'll tell you that. I think my whole left arm is going to shit. On top of that my neck is starting to suffer alike problems my father has dealt with for many years now. A spinal sort of issue. Classic, eh? Body starting going to shit when I really need it.
Crossing fingers it isn’t that, though when do I ever have the luck in this family?

Fuck you, body. Fuck. You.

My mind has been playing games on me also. Tsk, tsk, tsk. I lost myself today while in the middle of making lunch. Mum was heading off to work when she found me sort of dazed out, the drawer to where the knives are kept open, one in hand. It wasn't like I didn't know what I was thinking, my mind was just focusing on these issues that kept surfacing. Don't get the wrong idea. I just sort of paused at an awkward time, giving her all the more reason not to trust me in the kitchen. I keep losing focus, my mind replaying over things I have already dissected. It's like my mind is pushing forth already analyzed information and trying to make me second guess it. I put up barriers, I force it back, but it keeps coming. It's like fucking spam.

I'm starting to think this is what the Executor left. His message, I mean. I saw his post, I know something was left. Whatever it is it's pushing forth a hell of a lot of negative thoughts or trying to get me to rethink things in a negative fashion. Second guessing a lot of things now. Heh. Doubt. Really, Executor? REALLY? How can you make a person who doubts nearly everything, who is suspicious of everyone, who is just now, after eighteen--nearly nineteen fucking years, starting to trust people, fucking DOUBT?

Bleh. You can't see it, any of you, him, or Him even, but I'm just waving you off. Yep. Bleh.
Analyze that in a bit.

Honestly... I feel suspicious. About myself, towards them, towards everyone. This message, whatever was left by him feels like it has been festering for a while now. I think it's just amplifying the open cage, though. I feel stressed now since he left. My mind is strained trying to deflect this judgements on what I've already processed. It's frustrating. My humanity demands to look someone in the face and tell them all this but I cannot. I have no one. MysterCultist said I was alone over here, he is right. I am. My family knows nothing of this and it will remain that way, forever oblivious to their little girl. God, the disappointment I would be, a bigger one than I already am now no doubt. Fucks sake.

I can't do it anymore. I can't let them get attached further. Suspicion... Shit, I feel like something bad is coming. I was watching them tonight and damnit... It was nice. My sibling was a bit crabby but nothing new, just being in one room together for an hour was... Nice. It really was. But I can't let them think they need me, the chances of something happening are high. Even with my own survival instincts, my willpower, whatever the hell else you want to throw in there. My sibling and I are not close but we are at the same time. It's... So difficult, living like that with the rest of my family. Black sheep out of the whole, but with the immediate I am just the one that stands on neutral ground. Trust me enough but yet not at all. Have to keep the distance. It will be easier for them, even if it hurting me.

Big girl though, right? Always protected the family. Always protected the kin. Was always the big girl to stand in front of them. Always them... Always.

Never will let them protect me.


I'll so sooner die before I see them harmed by my affairs.

On top of that I already have seen, have heard what they are willing to take interest in and what they are willing to actually believe. There is a difference. Not returning to how it was when the cage was last open. Those few scattered memories are not worth it. I feel like such a bad person to be blinding them like this, erasing myself from them bit by bit... It hurts. But now is no time to worry on that, focus girl. Focus real hard for they have to not be able to realize just what you aim to do. Keep quiet now, girl. You've got plans to protect them.
I'm sorry for being a failure in your eyes but behind the curtain I'm more than what I seem.

It's alright, really. From what I know I'm used to this, but this particular feeling, well... It's just increased. This could be the Executor's little message just screwing with me, but somewhere I know still it is necessary to do this. They won't even realize it, I'll carry their burden with my own. It's so ridiculous for me to be saying this, right? You guys are probably like "oooh, it's too late" and what not. You know what? Screw you. The least I can do is lessen their pain when everything goes to hell. That would probably be the best thing I've ever been able to do for them. Aside from that they have yet to be attacked (which I am not egging on happening either) so either interest is lacking with them or He and the others know that there will be happy terms should they try.
Watching them sleep, ax in hand.
...Why the fuck did that image pop up? Memories, right? Right? If it's a memory then... Did I do that already? Did He or the others try doing that and they won't now? Fucking damnit! Just more to analyze!

My family will be cast out from the light of these affairs, even if I have disown myself from them. Friends? She is gone, he is being let go without realizing it. Friends... Fucks sake. Mystery was right, I am alone over here, in the flesh. Become so used to it you just don't notice.

I should go now. I can feel these second guesses trying to make me type bullshit here.
Shit... I'm shaking without reason. All I feel is suspicion. Goddamnit... THINK. You just found trust. Trust in them. No matter what. Trust in them. Focus, woman, fucking listen, listen... Listen to your own voice now. Kin will be fine, plans have been put into motion. The others can help, can handle things. Just... Work on fixing yourself. Where is the super glue? You're cracking, you're breaking... Shit, shit, shit... You were never this fragile. STOP CRACKING!
Bad feeling. Bad. Just, bad. Don't know where it is coming from, it's just there. My instincts are going crazy. I'm watching but I can't stay awake forever. I can't. It's not over. Bad feeling. So many questions. So many answers. Theories, information... No, bad feeling. Watching you, watching for you. You'll take me fighting or not at all. Implant this doubt, tch. I know how to break me, you don't. Heh... You don't. These layers... So many--

I need to go. I just... I can't keep typing here right now.
I just need to sit. Just sit and turn off all the light. All the sound. Just sit and fix myself.
Broken mind, broken body. Rotting away. So ugly.


Find safety in something, keep it close. Hold it to your heart, to your fire, to your core... They can't take it.
Find safety and keep safe with whatever or whoever it may be,

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Twenty-Second Post.

I couldn't see anything; I was not in third person view in this lucid dream. I could feel my head turning from left to right, the difference was clear. I was walking within the blackness, alike to the one I found comfort and silence within this last week or so. I say alike due to its texture and the fact there was little to no comfort to be found as I appeared within it. I was unable to even see my own hand in front of my face, this blackness was not the same. I could faintly hear whispers coming from the darkness, strange for they sounded familiar. I moved into their direction, following along without an idea as to where I was going. I just knew finding something was better than finding nothing at this point.

It was a short walk, the voices gradually getting louder until I finally recognized them. Mom and Dad? The moment realization hit the lights turned on. I was in my own house, in the doorway of the kitchen. Mother looked over to me and smiled, calling me to help with dinner. I was confused, mostly because Mum tries to shoo me out of the kitchen. Nasty habit of blowing things up or setting off the fire alarm. Amazingly enough she still gives me blades, the one thing I lack having accidents with. Priceless.

I was about to accept when something caught my attention. There was a third person, a man stirring a pot on the counter. His back was to me as I stared at him, trying to gather who this man was. My mind reeled through all the current people I knew, anyone who would fit the body type. This guy was tiny though, I am used to being around built or husky males in my family or family friends. He was too short to be any of the guys I knew or knew from school as well. I tipped my head into my mother's direction and asked who he was, she merely giggled which caught my attention. I stared at her, watching as she danced around the kitchen. I asked her again but she only said he was a friend. I nearly snorted at the absurdity of that response and asked a third time. She said he was staying for dinner, stranger that got lost. Skepticism laced through my veins as I looked back at him only to see him halfway turned to face me. 

This guy, he wasn't normal. He didn't even look normal. He wore a gray suit, white shirt, red tie. It fit him as if it was just made for him, not a single wrinkle or spot. His black dress shoes even shined. Like I said, he was tiny. Not as short as me, he was a few inches taller. No higher than 5'6, I'll tell you that. There was something about his body, he was thin, eerily so. I thought about the possibility he could be a contortionist with how his back was arched and remained that way. His posture was to the extreme, standing straight, shoulders fixed back slightly. I looked directly at his face and immediately was captured by the sharp eyes, dark as midnight. His complexion was pale but not sickly. The rings around his eyes were dark, what looked like a business man kept up late night after night. His hair was a dark brown, which would have fooled me for being black if it wasn't for the lighting. It was a short cut, combed back and left there. Everything about him was in place, I thought he would explode if something was un-tucked or his tie wasn't completely straight. It was wrong how right he was set up to be.

He said hello, which startled me initially from staring at him. I looked to see the serious face staring back, not blinking at all. I was silent which had him ask if something was the matter. And you know what was the only thing to come out of my mouth? "You kind of look like Pee Wee Herman."

He stared at me.

I stared back at him.

Everything sort of just fell silent. I have no idea if he knew who that was or if the name itself stumped him because hell, who wouldn't do a double take at a name like that? I muttered something incoherent beneath my breath before looking back at the stove and working on the grub, trying to be rid of this intense feeling. It felt like all eyes were on me but every time I glanced over to him he was not even looking my way. So why was I feeling so paranoid? My mother's giggle made my eyes narrow. That's why. She liked entertaining guests but this was by far the most idiotic behavior she has demonstrated. I felt my left eye twitching at the calmness that had fallen over my kin. I did not understand how or why they could be so relaxed with a stranger in the house. This was not normal. They were friendly, by far friendlier than I ever could be, but they would still have caution. They weren't that ignorant to ignore their instincts, the same ones that should be on red alert right now.  This guy was not right, everything about him outwardly was too calculated. I've encountered predators that were calculating, but not this. This was just different.

So why didn't they feel it? Why didn't they see it? I bit my lip, hard, trying to refrain from snapping the rubber bands on my wrist at the giggling that ensued. To my right he leaned over against the counter next to the stove, seeming to defy gravity as he did so. One leg casually crossed over the other as he dried off a plate from within the sink. He started asking me questions about the house and I deflected them while trying to seem polite, though it was sickly. Purposely. He ignored my deflecting responses and pursued in asking about the property. It was once one large farmland, you can find old barns, materials, and dates carved here and there across this neighborhood. And he knew it. Smartassery helped to dance around some important details but he was persistent. I threw a towel from the counter next to me at him after he placed down the plate. No one noticed, no one was noticing this stranger hovering in my personal space. Persisting in questioning me about the property. I scowled, definitely not proper behavior from my kin. My parents were in their own little world, they were completely gone.

I grabbed the handle of the pot listened as his voice tried to seep into my brain. It wasn't normal. No, no, no... At first it might have sounded it, but if you listen long enough you start to hear the echo. The dual voice speaking to you. Not right. Not normal. This dream, this was not a dream! My family members were only in nightmares. I glanced at him briefly from the corners of my eyes, watching as he stared at me while putting the towel down onto the counter. His lips weren't moving and yet his voice continued whispering around me. My kin were oblivious, they were lost. Without any hesitation I chucked the pot off the stove and at him, backing off enough to dodge the boiling water. You want to play with a lucid dreamer, you prick? That's fine. Be prepared to deal with someone who has been having them since childhood.

The entire atmosphere shifted, the steam from when the water hit him seemed to explode to a larger amount and as it died off my house did not look as pretty. It looked bright but dead all at once. My eyes looked to the right near the back room and I saw why. My parents were hanging from their own organs, gently swaying from left to right. Completely void of expression as they stared into my direction. I felt my heart beat against my chest, one painful thump to snap me out of it. I looked back to the strange man who was standing up and straightening his tie, not a drip of water coming off him. Right, this was a dream. If he wanted to be dry he could be.

The house creaked loudly, floors trembling, tile cracking. The lights began to blow out one by one dimming the house. I could feel his presence and it wasn't coming from one set direction. It was everywhere. I had to wake up, that is all there was to it. I had to wake myself up manually.

I watched as the house collapsed upon us both and then the setting changed, I opened my eyes to be standing in a completely different house. First level from looking out a nearby window. I looked to the wall and saw a Gettysburg P.A. sign but never have I been in this house before. Never have I seen it. Looking out of the windows I saw the houses were distant. I was isolated. The house groaned from behind me and I looked backwards, watching for whatever was there to show itself. Pain shot through my right arm as something flew past me; I jumped slightly and looked to see claw marks horizontally. It was bleeding, fine enough. What concerned me was the pain. I was used to these physical injuries, in reality they stung at best for a few minutes but nothing more. The pain was being amplified. As much as I love dreams I hate them as well when they can be used against me. Soft pitter pattering of feet raced around me, through the connected rooms and I was stuck in a prime targeting spot at the center of it all. With a swear I bolted into the opposite direction of the last footstep. An arm outstretched to my left and I literally had to trip myself to avoid my chest being carved open by the claws. I hit the kitchen floor and pulled myself up instantly, skidding around and looking for a knife. And of course the counters were fucking bare.

Looking at the structure of the house it was an old farm style one. Every inch of it was wood. Easy solution: Torch it. I felt a brief grin demanding to reveal itself but suppressed the urge. I missed fire. I hope he hates it. Want to know the classy way to start a fire in a farm house? You have to have some old lanterns and oil lamps. Heh... So easy to set shit ablaze with them. I ran to the small kitchen table and grabbed the two on there, I smashed the first on the floor and broke the upper body of glass on the second before I began working on it, lighting it up. Stubborn thing, doesn't it know there is something nasty in the house? Work. Work. WORK!

Hello flame. Unshielded. Unprotected.

I dropped it onto the floor and watched as it spread, hopping across the kitchen... Only to be attacked from my right and tackled to the floor. I looked and saw what pounced me was not human. Humanoid, but not human. It was black, like coal, and even darker were its eyes. I didn't have time to think about what the hell it was, though the idea of what it could be was there. I did what my instincts told me to. Punch in the goddamn face!

And so I did.

And so I pissed it off.

It snarled and I did it right back, try and bite at me, try to rip my throat out. I'll rip yours! How is that? Scratch, scratch, scratch. I know I'm bleeding, I'm not the prettiest looking thing in the world right now but that's fine. I got no one to impress. It would have to learn to understand I like my personal space, by learn I mean trying to see if my fist could go through its skinny neck. No, no it couldn't but it was effective enough for me to get it the hell off. I bolted for the door only to find it boarded up and useless. Lovely. I turned on my heels and sprinted up the stairs, the house groaned again. The stairs vanished behind me the moment I reached the second level. Oh excellent. Fucked over further. I ran down the hallway, trying not to stumble as the house quaked. A breeze hit me from behind and when I looked I could only see the hallway collapsing in on itself.

I wasn't aware it was Halloween and I was in a haunted house. This. Is. Ridiculous.

I ran faster and threw myself into the room at the end of the hall, my upper half hugging the bed I landed on with minor joy. I got up and looked in the mirror at my torn skin. This was a dream, right? This was my dream. So what do I have to do then, kids? Reclaim it. Right. Easier said than done. I took what little time I had to think, go over how I even arrived at the beginning of this nightmare. Nothing, the question remains unknown. I just appeared within the blackness from nowhere, as if my mind was switched on within the dream world. Familiar element, think. Who was this man? Who was I dealing with?




Pull forth the information from reality, you are within your own head, where all the information is stored. So why was it being difficult to process things? Everything seemed to be slowing down on my behalf while the dream kept moving at its normal speed. This was a lucid dream, he was abusing it, logical thing to do is to abuse it back and overpower him until I could break out. What did I do when I felt threatened within my own head? Make mazes. Right. Alright...

I turned to the right to find a new door in the room and without hesitation ran through it, entering a new hallway. Objective: Get outside.

"Why are you running?"

I look down the hall to him again, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. I scowled when seeing his straight and utterly blank expression. I can't waste my time here, on him. A wall flew between us and I turned, directing myself down a new hallway and ran to the otherside of the house, where I could see the stairs. Big houses were never made with only a single staircase, at least in my experience they weren't. One way down--A wall flew in front of my path and I ran directly into it. Rubbing my face as I stood back up I broke down the wall only to see from the end of the hall more being made and coming in my direction. I ran back down the hall and entered the first door I could reach. Another bedroom, tattered one at that. I wrinkled my nose walking to a window and tried to pry it open but with no luck. Grabbing the lamp next to the bed I chucked it at the window instead, no dice. I picked up the night stand then and tried to break the window up, nope, nadda scratch. I formed another door and opened it but the outside world was not there, only blackness, which wasn't any better.

I do not like him already.

I wanted to get outside but in truth I really did not want to go downstairs. Not with that thing lurking about, waiting to just carve me open. Maybe the stairs had a door or window near them, that was the only thing on my mind. Now it would seem I wasn't getting there regardless, and thinking on it if I couldn't get outside up here how the hell would I down there? Think harder, girl.

"So many thoughts in this head of yours."

I glanced left to see him in the corner and went on red alert. Too close. I turned and left the room in a sprint and raced down another hallway to the right. The damn things never seemed to just end, just more and more branched off of each other. Good, very good. Work with it. Disconnect, make new paths, rearrange the maze this house was forming into by his making. Screw up his map!

Threw a wall behind me, cut off the next one on the right. Made a dead end, went left. Removed the openings on either side down the hall further. Added an opening at the dead end up ahead. Ran forward, added a ladder, went up to the third floor and ran some more after putting up a wall between me and the ladder. I had no idea what I was really even doing, the layout was unknown to me and I had to make quick guess work of how the house was designed, and how he was continuing to add more and more to it. It just kept growing, as if the inside was bigger than the outside. Rearranging it was still something, it was adding new patterns and disconnecting old ones.

"How do you keep up with all of these thoughts?"

I sneered seeing him down the hall to the right and instead ran left, he appeared at the end of that hallway as well.

"I cannot access the information banks from here. Intriguing."

I stood still watching him watch me, my hands flexing with anticipation at whatever move he was bound to pull.

"You don't like me very much, do you? No. You do not like intruders. You wish I'd just drop dead, don't you?"

My gaze narrowed as he started casually approaching, the same blank expression upon his face, completely contradicting the tone of his voice.

"You're not going to let me extract the information, are you? No. Stubborn little thing you are."

Extract information?

"I will try, however. After I leave the message, of course."


What was familiar. Think. Reality wasn't far away.

"Don't you know, Lady of the Shade? I spend most of my time outside of reality."

The painful thud of my heart snapped me out of the flooding thoughts. A single idenity found.


"Hello, Lady."

I threw a wall up to separate us, he blew it apart.

"Don't you remember? This is my place of power."

I threw up bars between us, he ripped apart the steel and bent them open for a direct path to pass through.

"It does not matter how many of these dreams you have become used to."

I threw up a vault door, he broke it wide open with ease.

"The fact is I am and will always be better at this than you."

He said, a hint of satisfaction laced his tone as he slipped through the bars and came walking through the vault, nearly halfway to me. I had to get out, that was final. Going up just meant going deeper into this, going down meant getting cut up. Dealing with the amplified pain or running around the maze with a guy you barely know who wants to poke at your brain? I'd go with the prior, I can handle pain. I don't like my brain being poked often. It tickled, I don't like being tickled.

A door popped up on the floor and I didn't even spare him a glance as I opened it and hopped down two levels to the first floor. I smirked, lightly, until I was mauled into the stair banister. Coughing I kicked the black creature and bolted into the dining room. The table didn't really separate us, especially when the little bastard just jumped over it onto my side. I had to slide over the top of the table, crash into a chair, and stand back up to get onto the other side. Not so smooth, I'll tell you that. It was already on the table when I got up, quick thing. Using a chair as a shield did not work, it cut through the damn thing with its claws. I threw whatever chairs that were in my path to slow it down, the beast used them as stepping stones.

I ran into the kitchen, smoke and heat filling my senses. The entire thing was on fricking fire, I had to pull back out and dodge as the creature nearly sliced into my shoulder. Smoke was pouring through-out the entire bottom level, seeping through the rooms quickly. Ignore it for now, focus on the creature.

So... Couldn't slow the thing down, getting near it wasn't a smart idea either. Why not trap it? I winged it, running around the first level and sealing off doorways until it was stuck in the dining room once more. Handy. I added a brief skip to my step until I turned, looking straight into the face of Executor. No words, he grabbed my head with both hands and bent me backwards, painfully. The longer I was held the more force he applied, and steadily I could hear his breathing becoming more and more heavy.


I heard him mutter as I kicked out at him, my hands trying to snap his wrists.

"Why won't you show me?"

He kept whispering to himself, or to me, or to no one even. The pressure being applied to my skull increased, my mind worked to focus on something but every time I tried it felt as if spam was blocking me from thinking. As if it was trying to still my brain my working. Alarms were being set off in my own head, my imagination was dead as long as he was doing whatever it was he was doing. I tried to think up an anvil to fall on him, spam. I trid to think up a barrier to separate us, spam. I tried to imagine a weapon to spring up from the floor, spam.

"Give it to me."

Pain shot through my body, my jaw clenching as I kicked at him again to no avail. It felt as if someone was tearing me from my own body, it felt wrong. Awful. My back arched as I gripped his wrists tightly, images being pulled forward from a place I did not even have access to presently. The smoke I was inhaling flooded my senses further, and within my head images of a burning building flashed. A town too dark to recognize. Children. Screaming. Park. No, woods. No, park again. What? God--Fucking fire everywhere! Wake up--Cold, wet, smiling. Gasoline and oil. Smoke. More screaming. Please don’t take my sunshine away--Children. A young boy, bright grey eyes, a hollow smile. Wake up--Screaming. More screaming--Fire, just everywhere! The fort, the woods, being dragged—You sleepy head—Castle park, curious. Standing inside a globe, fascinated. Pain, lots of pain—Screaming—Crying—RAGE—Get up, get up, get out of bed—Watching them sleep, ax in hand. Smile. Smile. Smile. Smile. Nothing. Water flowing. Reaching up to catch a cloud—Please don’t take my sunshine away.

"I told you it would hurt."


Have you ever been in that state between sleeping and being awake, when you could feel and hear but you were stuck within blackness. That is where I was, what I saw, what I felt. I could feel my body cringing, twitching, pain shooting through it as it was trying to wake up. But my consciousness was caught within his grasp as he tried to extract information.

It's hard to explain just what this pain was. It just was everywhere, my veins were being electrocuted. My mind was screaming "stop!". I had to act, that was all there was to it. I counted down from four and then used his arms to pull my lower half up quickly, both legs kicking him in the ribs with as much force as I could muster in that moment. "Surprise, bitch!"... Is exactly what I would have said if I didn't hit the wooden floor so hard.

He backed off at least. As I pulled myself up with a hand on my head I saw he had moved into the opening of the kitchen, a displeased scowl on his thin lips. He straightened and just as he went to fix his tie a black mass slammed into him from the side, breaking through the stair railing and denting the wall. I pulled myself up and heard the Executor yell something incoherent, I didn't really want to know just what was going on, though. This was a good moment to get the hell out. I pulled myself up and turned only to see Executor's pet growling at me. Oh. Now I know what he had said. I stared at it, my mind weaving through thoughts as they now began to form once more. Too close proximity. Gun. The semi-automatic rifle I have upstairs immediately came to mind, forming in my hand I directed aim upon the creature but its speedy little self was already upon me, even as the bullets sank into its flesh. My back hit the wall and I heard a shriek like no other. I thought it was the creature but no, the black mass slammed into it and knocked it away. I took aim at the both of them after regaining my footing and saw what was tearing the arm off the creature was none other than Mr. Sunshine. The creature cried, he snarled. I was confused but it did not last, my mind demanded I woke up already.

Right. Right, right.. My dream. Change the settings. Where is the off button?

I looked over my shoulder to see Executor pulling himsef out of the wall and dusting off, his gaze landing upon me and remaining there as he fixed his suit. Death leaked into his gaze. Right, you clean yourself off, tough guy. I'm just going to click my heels together three times and imagine home.

Home. Little yellow home. Pretty little flowers. So many rocks. The stream running. The crickets singing. Home.

I looked around me as everything just seemed to switch over, the house we were in flipped around to my own house. I sighed briefly but the ruckus of Mr. Sunshine tearing apart the black creature reminded me of what was going on. He chucked the beast past me, crashing it into a cabinet. I could hear him as he snarled and took off, ramming the thing with brute force. I threw the automatic into the bathroom next to me and bolted into the hallway, one place to go.

But invisible hands yanked back my head, stopping me from running forward. I shrieked briefly at the force, thinking my head was going to pop right off my neck. He began again, trying to extract information. I could hear the slow breathing, he was focusing on this one task. He wasn't holding me physically, not this time. Learned his lesson the last time, eh? Fine. Just keep walking, girl. Keep walking. You can still do that.

One step. Two steps. Three steps, four.

My hand reached out to the dog gate and yanked it open, I felt utterly stiff as he kept my body awkwardly arched backwards. The blackness was starting to seep into my vision, I was losing the ability to think properly, let alone imagine anything. The real world was beginning to tingle against my skin, against my consciousness. I kept thinking "Hey, at least it's a small house, eh?" and thanked whoever made the house in the first place for that. Crossing my small room I had to bend my own body by force forward, no thoughts, just acting. All I could do was let my instincts know what needed to be done as my thoughts were shutting down. My hand slid beneath the pillow and wrapped around the handle of the kitchen knife. I pulled it out and the moment I did I felt the Executor tighten his grip on my mind. He appeared on the other side of my room running at me, one hand outstretched to stop me. Silly man, that's just what I wanted, for you to tighten your hold. Blackness filled my vision, the feeling emerged, and I was stuck between dreaming and being awake. All I hand to do was let my hand fall and dig the blade into my upper arm.

And that was it.

I gasped awake, sitting up instantly My head turned to see a  retreating suit, a man with a hand covering his face. He simply vanished, as if never there. I sneered and looked to my hand, see the bloody blade. My upper arm tingled, stinging. I grunted lightly and pulled myself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. It was just a flesh wound. Amplify the pain in the dream was your mistake, Executor. Woke me up without having to do much damage to myself, heh. I cleaned myself up and sat on the edge of the tub until morning, long after the bleeding stopped. My mind was just racing, more than it usually did.

Mr. Sunshine saved me from my throat being cut out.

What the hell was that black thing? A dream abomination of the Executor's?

The Executor... He now knew my location.

I looked at the door and scowled, I couldn't abandon my kin. There was one option: Eliminate the enemy.

Bad Man Walking would have slaughtered my family. Executor will use them against me whether I stay or leave. Redeeming him is too soon to say, he isn't so easy nor does he give anything away other than his job, but even then that's vague. I ruffled up my hair again, puff levels to the extreme. The thoughts of the previous struggle for survival a couple weeks ago surfaced. Lining up things. I sighed, knowing now I would have to enhance the traps I reset outside. Make more in my room. If Executor liked dreams he would come at night next time. He would come and make sure that when he does he would be able to grab me.

I went outside and grabbed the ax, preparing to sharpen it. I didn't want to sleep right then. I just wanted to prepare.

It's not over. He's coming back. He's coming back and he will make sure he gets done what he needs to get done.

Professionals, typical.

Stay safe,