Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Forty-Sixth Post.

So this is where we are now, huh? I really never expected all of this to happen. I first stated in the beginning of this blog I didn't give two fucks about making friends, lovers, enemies, I was writing for me. Still writing for me except now I have friends (mostly deceased or have gone without contact), an infatuated serial killer, and more enemies than I have fingers to count them on. Wanted to help people if I could, keep it business. Did that, still doing that, even if it's not business as much anymore. Wanted to give choice to those that didn't have it, because of Him. Those that weren't able to follow their passions from His indoctrination. Check, check, check. Still a working on it.

So... What the fuck went wrong? Or right? Friendship IS right, right? I'm confusing myself. The one thing I am sure of is the honesty in my final comment on the post titled "Fuck."
Yea, that hasn't changed, it's been that way for a while now. I'm tired of caring, of being called a monster by someone who has been my brother for years now. It doesn't matter if I do the right thing, the wrong thing, if I do nothing, if I do SOMETHING. The end result is I'm still just that.

Everyone wants my hostility, it seems. So I've come to this conclusion: I shall give it.

I caught a proxy Road Runner mentally fucked, the critter was following me. I fought her into submission in an alleyway in town and suffocated her until she passed out. Took her back into my basement, the one I've been prepping. Yadda, yadda, yadda, let your imagination take a stroll. She's not coming back to cut things short. I found it cute Lenore sent me one that still felt things. One that reacted to every little thing... Mm. She's smart like that, though, saw how I eliminated husks without a second thought. Decided to pit me against someone that would scream while I interrogated them. Cute, very cute. That just tells me she's still reading this, even if she has stopped her own blog.


Hey, Lenore? You really shouldn't be hiding out at the burned down Limeport Asylum. :)
Oh fu-- did I just find you? Why yes, yes I did.

I'm coming for you.

Suggestion: Run.
You're good at that, aren't you? Or... Wait, Prosper has been beating the shit out of you every chance he's gotten, hasn't he? At best you're what... Equal to a track runner? Heh. Oh this is golden.

Joshua is worried, which is funny considering things. Hehehe. Even more funny, I think. So you want me to kill the monsters in the world, but now you don't want me to kill people? People ARE monsters, Joshua. YOUFUCKINGHYPOCRITE! You're so silly sometimes.

But that's ok. Sis' will take care of it. She'll handle it. Maybe if you're lucky you won't end up like Lullaby. Take the fucking hint. IHATEMYSELF more than you can imagine, Joshua. What? Why else would I react so strongly when you call me a monster. Because I know it and it bothered me to some degree. Not anymore, though. No, no, no... You killed that for me. You and the rest of these fucks. The only thing left now is the person who will be using that basement properly, frequently. Congrats! Heh, heh. You really are stupid sometimes, deary. But that's ok, hatred can blind a person, you know. I know, I know very well, actually. Did you know that I know? You'll find out soon.
You hate me, I hate me, we all hate me. I'm liking this. It's a good old hatefest and I'm the host! HA!

Hehehe. That sounds so boo-hoo, but it's not. I'm actually finding this all hilarious. Minus all the deaths and what not, the rest is just rich.
I'd tell you this all to your face but we aren't really talking. You're still mad about the apartment complex, and I'm still resisting the urge to bash your head in. Probably for the better we avoid one another, eh?

But there are more important matters than you and I, Joshua.
Like the winged bitch.

"What do you want?" Lenore, you once asked me in Limeport Asylum. I never answered you. I didn't know what I wanted. Freedom? I was so scared, I didn't know what was waiting outside those walls. Everything was hurting me and I didn't know why. Why were people abducting me, why was I lashing out against these people I've known for years, taking the lives of I cared for, why was I destroying the very place I loved once. Once. I was so scared, Lenore, but being in there for years with you... Well, I came to fear something more. You. Your madness, the chaos that surrounds you, the screaming... I never wanted to become you. But you'd look at me and smile something sickly, croon softly that we had to stick together, that we had to escape. When I knew I couldn't get away from you so I decided to work with you to escape, because at least the world was a bigger place than Limeport Asylum, and I was sure you would never find me once I took off running. Every ounce of trouble we got into was because of you, every volt of electricity they sent through my body, every day spent in solitary confinement. You grew madder by the week, your psycho babble turned to gibberish. Whatever sense you once made you lost.

You didn't even realize He fucked you up so bad, did you? I wonder if you even realize it now. Your madness and legs have always been strong, but your everything else is weak. It has always been weak. You were pathetic then. They say I'm broken being what I am. But you... Oh you have always been a whole nother' level. I loathed it. I loathed you.

And then I began asking myself what I wanted as you progressed in madness. To not become you? Oh... Well seeing as you were becoming increasingly violent, maimed some workers, I knew I might have to take a stroll in your shoes if desperate enough. And then I realized what I really wanted back then, when we were just children. I wanted to kill you.

I want to kill you now.  At first, when I had no memories, it was for Billy. But now, Lenore, everything is back. And you, my filthy dear, have crossed me beyond the point of forgiveness. I. Remember. Everything.

I won't give Executor or Prosper the satisfaction in killing you. Thuggee's so called permission means NOTHING to me. This is about us, Lenore. It has always been, I get it now. You and I, the point was THIS. The point was you trying to make me into a tool for you, to kill every little thing. And why? Because you're afraid. Because you want to same blackness, the same silence I long for. You're pathetic, but then again so am I for all different reasons. At least my solution isn't to murder everything because I'm afraid, Lenore. It's just brilliant how easily you break when one thing falls out of place. You're so fragile, truly like a bird. But you're becoming tired of flying, aren't you? You'll land eventually, and I'll be there to break your wings. You'll fly no more.

Hehehe. It's funny, really. It's very funny. I keep saying that, don't I? I just find it so amusing. I can't help it!

I just... Hahahahaha. Fuck you.

Stay safe if you can,


  1. "Wanted to give choice to those that didn't have it, because of Him. Those that weren't able to follow their passions from His indoctrination."

    It's a real pity you're on your side of the fence.

    1. Oh really? Why is that, darling?

    2. Because I like your fire. You're naturally in tune with the flame.

    3. Interesting way of putting it. I approve. Have to ask, you make a lot of fire references. Is there a reason for this?

    4. The Fire guides us. I embrace the flame to better the serve the master.

    5. Shady, you are losing your touch with the things that brought you happiness. I am so, so worried about you. Is there anything the rest of us can do to try to "remove the leeches", so to speak?

    6. The Fire is a beacon of hope and a sure sign of destruction. A feeling that can drive you or consume you. Its the ever present spirit that is survived in every new flame.

      The Fire is a force available to anyone with passion.
      The Fire is.

    7. Amy, when the fuck was I ever really happy? I'm done lying to myself. Want to help? Don't stand in my way when there's a knife in my hand.


      How curious. Thanks for the explanation, deary.

  2. In the end, everything goes away.

    1. Good. It's better that way.

    2. No. It isn't. But whatever.

    3. Someone sounds mad. Are you mad, deary?

  3. Come at me, Shady, if you've got a point to prove.

    1. Honey, I believe my point is clear enough. If you cannot compute where I stand that's not my problem. It's yours. If you simply disagree that's just as much your own problem.

    2. Oh no, Lenore will die, that I don't doubt. Just never thought a Lady like you would sink to her level to get it done.

    3. There are no levels in this. You do what you do to survive, weren't you recently just preaching that? I have little care about how you or anyone views what I must do and how I do it. She will die, that's all that matters.

    4. I wasn't talking about good or bad, stop reading what you want to see. I'm talking about terms of sanity. You're too close to the edge, and you don't even care.

    5. Amy, I wasn't speaking about good or evil, sanity and insanity, right and wrong, pure and impure, nor anything specific in between. You're right, I don't care. Caring means delaying things further. What is left for me to be careful about? A brother who hates me is no brother at all. The people worth caring for are so far gone already I highly doubt they will ever return. Being careful isn't a priority anymore when there is nothing left to lose. This goes beyond any of those things. Lenore and I are one of those things that just is. Nothing will change until one of us dies.

  4. This comment has been removed by the author.

    1. You think you're a Big Bad because you can talk shit? I know what I'm doing, and I know what I'm saying. Having a subscription to comments also comes in handy.