Of Pasts Still Present: Part 1

This is the telling of my abduction. No, this is not with the Executor, a post I still promise to do. Just not now. This is about someone named Victor, I say someone because he's still a person and I will always treat him as such. You are all going to be reading my accounts of what occurred during those eleven days. You will know what I know, what I saw, felt, and experienced as a whole. But that's only one piece of it. Why? Because you'll also be experiencing Victor. If you think what you know now is something to make your blood boil or heart ache you'll see soon there are many things left in the darkness of the night to slumber.

At first I was not sure to post this. Can you guess by my time delay? It's not just the fact time distortion really fucks up the mind, you don't realize it's happening much until you're out of that distortion itself. Then everything just seems... Different. It took me a while to organize the information I am preparing to present now. I have just... An ungodly amount of papers here with scribbled words and drawings everywhere. Just notes to help me keep everything in order because I'll be damned if I'll trust my own mind in these times.
On top of that I was worried about whether or not Victor would even want this posted. The longer I debated on that the more I knew that he wouldn't have taken me and shown me such things if he didn't expect me to record them. This blog is about my experiences to help anyone in an alike position, they have to be clear and truthful while containing as many details as possible for all of you. And just a bit for me. This was something established at the start, the purpose of this blog. I used to scowl at the people who insulted Victor, even at the way start when my kindness meant little. I disliked the way they called him some stupid, crazy, psycho fuck. Now I find myself snickering like some crack head because the truth of the matter is he isn't stupid. Unstable a bit, surely, but not stupid. Victor is intelligent as hell, something I never doubted but perhaps this telling will shut some of those ignorant fucks up, eh?

I'm getting to it don't worry. Right now though you have to listen and not skim through all this rambling. Because the truth of the matter comes out here, the reason I am here even typing to you. You probably have noticed I am not a blubbering mess, right? Hopefully you're perceptive enough to see that. Some of those I live with have documented it, the mere fact I'm not on my slab of rock for a bed playing with the slinky is because of Victor. But to understand why Victor is the reason I am not a mess, not like before or even within worse condition, you have to go to the start of it all.

My origins of how I came to be here.

I won't go to the very beginning where it's all boring. I'll tell you where it picked up, where I watched and began to read all the horrors people were suffering because of one individual: "Slender Man". That time ago I wasn't as... Compassionate of a person, I was layered in some thin sheets of ice. My paranoia still stands but my trust is gradually coming back and with it has brought my ability to feel a little more than mere solitude. A solitude I was making for myself for the most part, might I add. I kept to the shadows of the blogs and vlogs recording all these instances, I stayed cloaked as an observer for a couple of years. Then I found MyDarkJournal, I wasn't fazed by the relations to big, tall, and fucked up. But there was a different sort of intensity with him. I briefly considered he was insane, a chaotic man... Possibly a beast. I watched every video he had and read every blog entry, and at this time there weren't all too many. I backtracked, watched everything again, reread, I skimmed comments even. Oh, you think that's bad? You have no idea the lengths I went to try and learn this fellow.

I followed his rise into terror upon Youtube. The people he reeled in were all confused and scared, a few handfuls curious and even rarer few encouraging. A person in my position back then, the usual loner, secluded watcher, etc. wouldn't have dared to step from the shadows. But there was more, I knew. There was so much more to Victor than people were seeing or allowing themselves to believe. His actions were and still aren't without reason and that reason I wanted to learn and understand. The moments where his suffering showed were the motivation I needed to exit my safe haven, to pull from my semi-blind state and fall into a war I was only watching. You see folks, Victor is the reason I am here now. He was my first pledge, to help and protect, perhaps save even someday. Oh yes, does that sound ever so naive, eh? Heh. No. It still stands, it will always stand. My first pledge was and still is to this man and he knew not.

I inquired in the start of it all. There was never a moment I did not offer kindness unto him, hoping he'd recognize sincerity within this dying world. He attempted to show me some form of mercy by severing ties but later returned for whatever reasons. So continued the growth of our communications, so continued his tale in which I inquired further upon and pursued with the same sincerity I had then and still have now.

The beginning of a naive young woman who was trying to make herself believe the world was worth saving. Still is. Is it? Yes. But we will not learn that the way we are proceeding to do things now. We can't end more suffering by adding more, that's just adding lighter fluid to the fire. Knowing Victor's experiences, his own history and understanding how it factors into today matters. It teaches us the causes for why our broken world is cracking further. It motivates some to do worse, yes, but it motivates more to do better than they were to make the change and reel the two halves back together as one. And Victor, I hope when you read this you see there are more out there that want that, to fix this world and change it for the better, without the suffering and hate. I hope you see this and realize not everyone is to blame, for there are others who would have died if they could to protect you and yours had they been around back then. I being one of them. It might not mean much to you personally but the world won't change if you don't give it the chance to.

You see why I do not sob and whimper, yes? While he very much is an intimidating figure (not just due to the size difference, heh) there are many more important things to look at. While there was potential for me to not come back and that there should have been fear in the possibility... There was not. I cannot hate or fear someone I have pledged to, only fear for them and loathe for them as well. On top of that he is known to keep his word and isn't lacking in intelligence and some self-control. Even if the latter does slip.

Now... Let us begin with the arrival of Victor.

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I'll be honest here, it's difficult to recall yourself when within such a dulled out state. Have you ever had an observer dream? You most likely have, it's where you are stuck watching events and have no control what-so-ever. To best put it, that was my state in a way. My mind was unfocused; when I acknowledged someone else it didn't last or went unheard. I was watching myself die from the inside. I was listening to the Caged One slowly wither as a piece of our... My past was severed. Everything was splitting in two, she was dragging my past into madness and I could feel my present state succumbing to the original host.

What do I remember, though? Sitting for hours just watching and listening to the metal slinky in my hands. Barely able to feel the weight bounce back and forth between my hands. Fidgeting... I couldn't stop my hands from shaking or making these patterns I couldn't even make out. Half the time I just fell into this dead state, I could feel my body in motion and hands moving but I could see nothing. It was just emptiness, distant, everything.

We were at the fire, I think. Yea, Mystery's post tells me that. I remember the warmth of the flames, barely. Mystery was near me, I could see her from the corners of my eyes despite not looking at her. But... I didn't need to look at her to know she was there. I just felt her, I felt her familiarity and it was nice. Somewhere in that horrid state I felt nice in her company. I was plucking at the hem of my shirt I remember, my hands traced to my arm at the slinky. I wanted to start it up again but didn't. I plucked at it a few times through the sleeve of my jacket, tempted to begin another session but kept tugging at the thing on my wrist instead. Maybe it was for Mystery I was trying to divert myself from continuing? Deargod that woman put up with it for hours... Thank who the hell ever for her patience.

Whatever it was we were doing meant nothing. When the first bang came we were up. I was... Moving. Fidgeting, going forward trying to do something. Looking around, yea. Axe, I wanted my axe. I tried to look for it in my still position, my eyes looking briefly at the door that was cracked and indented. There was a pause that lasted a few seconds or something and then the door was knocked off the frame and landed a good distance into the mansion. The red rays of the setting sun flooded our home more and blanketed a figure I knew all too well. I couldn't move and breathing nearly stopped at the sight of that sledgehammer. Fear for everyone spiked but I was frozen, not with shock or my own fear, I was just crippled in this state of mindfuckery. Not just from Victor's sudden appearance but the causes of why I was in that state to begin with. I just couldn't react.

When the sound of his heavy boots came I just knew what direction. I couldn't look at him for long; just brief passings from a state of lunacy I was falling back into. A state I was becoming all too familiar with by the bleeding memories. I noticed a bear trap I had reset on his arm, worry coursed in me on the inside but he paid zero mind to it. A figure of white, smaller than Victor, came from behind. The Oracle I was able to make out with my fleeting glances. And then a masked face I didn't want to even think of came in, Road Runner, and ripped the Oracle from the frame of the door before she could even enter.

He just kept coming my way. I really should have expected this more. He keeps his word and when he said he'd come for me at dusk I should have known better. Maybe it would have helped if I wasn't there at all when dusk came, or maybe not. Ohgod, when I saw Mr. Sunshine crawling from the pits of darkness just as the tip of Victor's shadow laid at my sneakers he tackled the larger man. Bad Man Walking was a big fucker, Mr. Sunshine just as much, but Victor is just a whole different level. The difference in size was just alarming. I watched as Mr. Sunshine mauled Victor to the ground only to be hit with the sledgehammer in his torso, the bigger of the two already up on his feet in a split second. It hurt to watch Sunshine be chucked like a ragdoll, I tried to react but I couldn't. I wanted him to just stop attacking but he continued. Attempting to tackle Victor again but it didn't work at all, Victor just grabbed him and began beating him senseless with the bear trap from his arm.

Warmth surged through the ice that had covered me since Billy's death; I could feel the stinging in my eyes again even if it was just for a moment. God, it never felt so good to scream even if it was to cease Victor from caving Sunshine's skull.

But it worked. Sunshine just dropped from his grasp and he turned upon me. Mystery jumped in front but I could feel the eyes I couldn't see. The black pits of the mask, void with an intensity words cannot describe. My heart hammered, I flinched scooting my foot forward by a fraction. My mind screamed no for Mystery's sake. One second he was approach us both and the next in front of me. From the corners of my eyes I could see Trinity sprinting and I hoped to whatever god was out there and maybe listening to spare her from any sights of hell that Victor may unleash.

If I wasn't trapped within my own body that was losing it, my mind already going as the Caged One fell to the madness she once knew, I would be frozen by the sheer pressure his unseen stare emitted. The shadow enveloping me felt like Executor's restraints binding me to that metal table that short time ago. I found my feet off the ground, being picked up by this giant.

Everything around us seemed to darken, as if the lights were going out across the world one by one. Everything from the mansion faded and nothing but blackness surrounded us. We were moving, I knew this. Like sitting in a moving car, you just know even without looking out the windows. It wasn't long, I would consider it awkward if I wasn't in such an expressionless state of being. Surrounded in all that blackness was familiar. Thought I was dreaming again, waited, even hoped for the comfort of it to return. Victor's hand (wherever his hand(s) is/are) a firm reminder it was anything but. I've never felt so light before in my life, felt like a feather he was holding and avoiding breaking in two. It's strange how Victor can make you feel so small, not just literally.

In the nothingness of shadows around us I could hear him, nearly silent if not for the shallow breathes beneath the mask. The surroundings of shifted, shadows casting into various directions as we pulled out of the darkness. Granted, it was still dark as fuck but there were shades and variations, more than the blackness had. We ended up in a forest that seemed endless, not just because it was night but because it just was massive alone. Sun had mostly set now, there must have been a sliver left from our short journey to who knows where on the planet. He walked a few feet and I was able to make out a cemetery, the sun falling into hiding obscuring a chunk of details. I knew it wasn't just my fucked up state though when I saw the condition of the area. Old, in ruins for the most part. Everything either crumbled or looked on the verge of it.

Victor placed me on my feet and began walking. I squinted briefly, my fingers picking at the sleeve of my jacket as I looked around. I took a few steps forward and hit into something fuzzy, swatting immediately at a piece of moss. Looking up I could see it all hanging from the threes, growing on the tombstones and having spread across the area. Unfamiliar territory came to mind as I looked over everything, realizing the only thing that was familiar was the man that brought me there. Victor and he was heading towards a small cabin. I hurried over to him and caught up, everything seemed so surreal. I kept feeling myself pinch and tug and fricking poke at not only my own sleeves but some objects in reach. When I reached Victor my mind ticked on its own, body reacting, heh... Man, you got to love when you're aware your own body isn't always listening to you, when your mind is splitting in two. The Caged One reached out and tugged on his sleeve, there was a pause in his steps and the white masked turned down once more. I had nothing to say, no explanation to give and I doubted one that made sense could even be said. How do you explain to someone you might think they aren't really there and shit isn't really happening around you? That minor action was enough to assure me for a bit.

After a moment, maybe realizing that I had nothing to say, he continued forward towards the cabin and opened the door. I followed him into the cabin, eyes adjusting to the lighting. Instantly my attention was brought to a young man standing up abruptly from a table, surprise seeming to appear on his face. I noticed though it wasn't aimed towards Victor, a short glance before examining over the odd one out. I tugged down the sleeves of my jacket as Victor pulled away and tucked himself into the corner of the cabin to stand, watching. It wasn't hard to figure out when you could actually feel his gaze.

I focused the best I could, which wasn't easy when half of you has given up while the other half is clinging to reality by a thread. The guy introduced themselves as the Culwyns, offered a hand and out of instinct I found my body lurching backwards. It took a moment to unclench the stiff muscles but by then his hand had fallen, a hoarse "sorry" managed to break through. It was the most I could offer like that. The kid glanced back at the elder who in age had to be in his seventies or around there. The man didn't at all seem bothered by Victor or myself even there, familiarity then at least with one of us which opened up so many more questions. The kid, who I was guessing to be the grandson by now, was speaking to me again. My hand was rubbing the side of my head, like that would help me hear anything better. Managed to catch some broken English, he was asking questions that I couldn't make out. I could feel her, Caged One clawing against the walls of my mind, I wasn't going to last. The focus was dying, the dazed state was creeping back into play.

Unfamiliar. Not home. Where is home? Why aren't we home? Where is the palace of white...

By the time I noticed the hand on my elbow I was already seated and it was off me. I glanced around before looking back to the young man, his German accent tuning in more clearly for a moment. The words I caught hold of were addressed politely, I feel bad at how much of a shit state I was in to begin with. My hand held my throat, trying to get out something reasonable to what I was picking up from him, which wasn't much to begin with. It seemed him and the old man were in the business of secrecy when it came to Victor, whose name was popping up a few times.

He motioned to the room and I found myself following the motion his hand went in, glancing around the small cabin. It looked like such, an old little home that's been around for a long while now. The set-up for video work along with a computer, printer, and what not all in one corner. The only part that stood out, almost out of era even. The grandson had said Victor sends his messages through them, it was a brief explanation about how they post everything online for him. I looked away from the set-up, briefly sliding my gaze upon the motionless Victor in the corner still, before settling back on the grandson. My hand on my throat tightened as I muttered out the name no one knows me by, one that was practically dead. The damn name I didn't know if Victor knew I had until now. Fucks sake, the one thing I am withholding as long as I can for personal reasons. Days spent torn between silence or lengthy hours of muttering to one’s self can make for a sore throat, especially after the mourning fits. Was no doubt feeling it. Pile on Road Runner's assault to my torso still hurt like hell, breathing I barely wanted to do let alone talk.

That's when I found out a little more, though, once an introduction was made. I learned that they were the caretakers of the memorial park and local cemetery. Elaborated a little more on how he posted online as told to, through his grandfather, through Victor. My brows furrowed at trying to focus on his words, the grandfather's voice came in speaking in German and stopping the grandson from speaking all together. I guess he must have noticed, I leaned my head into my hand and listened the best I could, watching as the grandson pulled from the table and out of my line of sight.

I was stuck looking at the grandfather who wasn't much of a talker. I felt the visual examination, probably asking why the hell this unstable woman was in his house. A plate landed in front of me, I could feel the heat from it warming my cold skin. The grandson came back into my line of sight leaned down motioning to it before disappearing again. It's pretty shitty I couldn't remember the last time I ate. Hell, Mystery tried feeding me, made sure it got through to me by body needed it. I wasn't motivated at all, felt no hunger, felt nothing. But it didn't matter because even I knew it was necessary.

The grandson placed down a drink before sitting back in the same chair. Him and his grandfather exchanged very brief words before attention came back to the third party. The kid didn't make any acknowledgement towards Victor since the first one, ignoring the man who was no doubt still there. Swallowing wasn't pleasant, having to focus on making sure food went down and stayed down was worse. The sleeves once more were tugged down, bruised body hidden away. The drink helped at least and picking up the grandson's voice as he spoke helped to distract until all was done.

I stared at my hand shaking lightly, feeling as if gravity was pulling it down. My body felt weighted and immediately alarms set off in my head. I pushed from the table abruptly and stood as my vision blurred, everything I did to try and stay awake in those few seconds were meaningless as the drugs kicked in and I blacked out.

For once the blackness was just that, black, not a whisper not a word. Of silence and patience and all that was peaceful. And then his screaming filled the void and there was nothing but emptiness once more. Another night of Billy's suffering, something I was paying dearly for.

It wasn't until later in the night when I woke up on bed, hands tied in front of me. Something I was grateful for with my current physical state. I kicked myself up to a sitting position and felt around for my knife, gone. Cellphone, gone, slinky, gone, personal affects I carried on my person were all gone. I took a second to wake my brain up. I felt a bit less sickly from exhaustion being reduced by some. Standing up I wandered to the door and pried it open, peeking out of it. The grandfather caught sight of me and hit the table catching the grandson's attention, a finger shoved in my direction as I slipped from the room. He sounded like he slipped an apology for the drugging but I wasn't paying much attention, the room held no familiarity to it. He wasn't there. I questioned where Victor was and was directed to the door, a finger pointing to the graveyard.

Late in the night or maybe early in the morning I found myself wandering out to the cemetery and finding Victor's massive form laying at the foot two graves. The overgrown cemetery glowing slightly under the light of the moon, I found myself leaning down to glance at the names to those that owned the tombstones. He laid before a Genivieve Sellwyn, his wife I recognized by the first name. The second being that of Cassandra Sellwyn, the daughter I guessed to be. He slept at the foot of theirs but the third name caught my eye, a tombstone that read Victor Sellwyn, one just for him besides theirs.

It is strange how easy it is to remember him lying there silently even now. I crouched down for a few minutes just to take in the details, admiring this man in repose as he remained as motionless in his rest as he did when he was awake. I felt intrusive, debated to go back even till the sun came, but couldn't.

He didn't look much different from our encounter at the asylum, less bloody and what not. The white mask would have been easy to tilt then but it never registered now that I think about it. Too much respect has been given to him to have such considered. What I already knew made the sight of this, where he laid, all the more painful. It wasn't hard to reflect on what I had wanted, what I had written before about wishing to do the same to Billy's grave and pretend it was during our time of youth and we were all just stargazing. That none of this has ever happened that the future, my present, never existed. All this hurt not solely for him but for the ones I couldn't remember now most of all for Victor. The start of everything. Who would have guessed I'd be sitting there watching him rest, him in his onetime to be at peace. I hoped that maybe in the future there could be such for even me before mentally snorting at the likelihood at finding peace before death. But if he got to be at peace that made me happy, perhaps he could see them. I knew not what his daughter looked like but I imagined seeing his wife's lovely face meant much as well.

I partially expected Victor to awaken at my approach within the night. Maybe he had and saw no need to get up just yet, I don't know. I felt worried at his frozen state, the worst starting to surface in my severely paranoid mind. The Caged One whimpered somewhere in the blackness as negative thoughts about another death, specifically his. I tried to shush her--me, ughs... I tried to shush the Caged One, scooting closer to his form and trying to see some sort of sign he was still breathing... Or if he was even to begin with. I leaned over him and reached out for his hand, my own two tied together making it rather troublesome. Slipping my fingers beneath his sleeve I felt for a pulse, waiting, hoping.

I briefly thought Victor was awake by the sudden intensity, the vibe felt when unseen eyes are watching. This wasn't like before, though. My skin prickled with an unknown reason, my own body falling less out of my control. It felt as if the ground beneath me was gone, my insides flipped at the feeling of falling yet I was still seated in the same position. Still hunched over Victor who was still motionless. Panic struck and I looked up to find Him too close for comfort, the creature from the woods, the dreams. The eerily thin frame of Him is what I noticed first, the lanky arms dangling at His sides; down to his fucking knees. The suit, neat as ever despite what business this monster was invested in. I looked to His faceless head, a scream echoing within my skull as my emotions trembled between fear and rage. My vision wavered upon him, dying out into blackness. Blinded for a second before clearing up once more, blurring again. The sound around me seemed to increase in pitch, the faintest of breeze blaring in my ears before dying out until I was isolated by silence. My grip on Victor seemed to fall numb, still holding him yet I couldn't feel... I couldn't feel anything. I fricking gasped as my body went from decent to failing in a matter of seconds. My senses were going crazy before dying for seconds at a time and leaving me in a state of mental solitude.

A hand grabbed my tied ones, Victor shot up and I was off the ground the moment he flew onto his feet, fully alert and fully aware. It was difficult to see, my vision blurred as my body felt worse than any illness I've ever had. Yet the moment I was hauled up the worst of it seemed to die down, to the point where I could breathe again. I held his forearm as Victor began guiding us towards the cabin; his attention never once off the creature, back never turned to it. And I felt better, even for that moment of closeness the sickness was smothered by something else, repelled between the two of us. The monster never shrunk as we furthered, seeming to always remain at the same distance. Trying to predict what to expect with these two was nearly impossible, having Victor pull me away from it and the sickness lift was enough to let me know his word was still valid. That my trust was still rightfully placed.

The sound of the cabin's door swinging open with force rang in my ears; I was shoved inside and grabbed hold of the wall weakly before sliding down against it. The door slammed shut but the force bounced it back open, I was able to see through the crack of it; I could see Victor standing outside facing the creature. Distanced from him the sickness activated once more; my insides burned as I coughed and wheezed, feeling like my lungs were to burst under the stress. It crossed my mind death came to others that have been in the state I was in because of Him. I could hear the Caged One screaming, my head swelled with pain as it felt like the two halves were being torn. I tried to focus on the crack in the door, on Victor, trying to keep my vision from blurring. Made him my focus point to try and tolerate the searing pain. I watched his hands flex, stance firm and unmoving in their stand-off.

Hands on my throat I could taste blood; the grandson was pulling at my hands and getting me away from the door. I felt everything in my body turning off, shutting down bit by bit. Coughing came from my right, the kid's low German voice hissing as he fell onto a knee. Affected just like me, I could see the pain written across his face as my vision blurred in and out.

Fuck, I don't even know how long I was rocking for just coughing and trying to keep the blood down. My eyes burning as I tried to swallowing the pain. Both no doubt fucking praying the same thing, to get that monster to leave.

The intensity I felt overwhelming me died off, the sickness slowly fading. Relief came when I could breathe a bit easier. The door pushed open and I looked up to see Victor's mask illuminated in the moonlight that leaked in from behind him. Unharmed but stiff, reminded me of the first in the flesh encounter we had, when he nearly caved in my skull with his hammer. He didn't look in pain this time, just stressed, muscles clenched. Then his familiar intensity fell over me, unseen eyes once more looking down. I wiped my stinging eyes, no doubt red some, with my sleeve before looking up at him. No words, I just reached out and tugged on the leg of his pants. Partly because of the tick, the need to assure myself he was really there, and partly as a silent token. It's amazing how quickly relief fell over in that moment.