Before I Slip Away

Friends, Romans, countrymen:

I've just shot myself. I'm sick of running. Sick of hiding. Sick of living like this, being hunted down like an animal, not even having enough time to update this damn blog. By the time you read this, I'll certainly be dead.

But worry not: You'll hear from me soon.

Regards,
Dante

A Brief Moment of Relaxation

Ever met someone from the blogosphere in real life outside of a dangerous situation?

In a strange twist of fate I ended up on Omega's doorstep. Yep. That Omega. The one who writes the encyclopedia about Slender Man. Prior to what I would have thought, he does not look like a drug dealer, although when I asked him if he deals meth he began acting sketchy.

Oh well. If he wants to deal meth, that is his business.

He ended up letting me stay with him for a day, which was pretty nice, for a drug dealer. We ended up having a good-old Texas-style BBQ. You wouldn't expect it, but Omega's pretty good at cooking. Pork sandwiches, ribs, beans, and all.

...When did I say I keep kosher? Because if I did, I was totally lying. I'm a Texan, dammit.

It was really nice, taking a break from the Running and hiding and worrying about proxies like Morningstar and Ferus. It was just us, eating BBQ and playing video games and laughing like the Slender Man never existed and like we weren't doomed to die.

It was nice, taking a breather. I wish things like this happened more often.

But I'm back on the road again, trying my best to avoid proxy creeps like certain ones who follow this blog. I envy Henry.

He managed to get away.

Convictions Are More Dangerous Foes

"Why do they wear those masks? Maybe there's a part of them that remembers how they used to be, how they used to look. And they're ashamed." -Atlas, Bioshock


Masks always looked strange to me. I remember reading how Jekyll recommended that runners wear masks, how Maduin wears that weird rabbit mask... The rabbit mask reminds me of Sander Cohen.

Sometimes I wonder how we can trust these people when they hide behind masks. But then again, who else can we trust?

Human nature is a funny thing.

Regards,
Dante


P.S. Dallas' heat index is terrible, about as terrible as the city. I'd avoid going there anytime soon, runners who happen to be in Texas.

Caught in a Landslide

I'm... I'm still alive. I don't know how or anything but I'm still alive and I guess if there's one thing I've done this entire fucking time it's survive.

I'm leaving Corpus Christi. Not telling you all where I'm going; it's too risky and I put myself and more importantly other people in danger the last time I said where I was going... Like all those people except I don't want to think about that right now. So I'm taking Glass' advice and getting the fuck out of here.

I might as well tell you guys what hapepned because it's scaring the fucking shit out of me and who knows,, maybe someone can help.

The power went out, like I said, but it shoudln't have been that dark... Not so early in the evening. I grabbed a flashlight because I figured if I'm going to die I might as well know just what killed me- If it was a proxy who just cut the wires in the hotel, or if it was the Slender Man himself. I felt a migraine coming on and I just wanted to lie down and hide under the covers and sleep, but that wasn't an option. I wasn't gonna die a coward. Not this time.

I grabbed the knife I keep on my desk since I lost my gun and wandered out into the hallway. The power was out in there, too. I continued walking and went down the stairs, figuring that if it was a coincidence which of course it probably wasn't I might as well try to fix what had happened.

As I wlaked down the stairs I realized that the staircase wasn't this long. It's not exactly a big building... Of course,like any normal person, I kind of freaked out, but continued walking. I wasn't... I wasn't gonna die a coward.

So I kept walking, like any crazy person would.

...Finally, I got sick of walking. It was taking too long and this was horrible and I could tell he was just messing with me and that if he had a mouth he'd be grinning like a cheshire cat. So I did the logical thing: I jumped off the stairs.

Yes. I hopped over the railing. I figured I'm going to die anyway, so I might as well.

It wasn't too far down, actually, although I did knock the wind out of myself for a second. That was... Unpleasant, the feeling of not being able to breathe. I crawled to my knees and realized I'd broken my flashlight during the fall. I lost my knife somewhere during the fall, too...

The lights flickered on. He was standing there, staring at me with his blank no-face and I could only stare back. I felt sick and drawn towards him and I don't even know but I threw up and those tentacles came out and the room went dark again.

That's all I remember. I think I passed out... I dunno. I woke up in my room, as though I'd been taking a nap or something. My knife was back on my desk where I'd left it, as well as my flashlight which happened to work. At first I thought I'd been dreaming the entire time except then I logged on to blogger and saw that I really had posted.

This is... Disconcerting. I don't understand any of it. Was it reality, or was it just a dream? I hope it was the latter...

Regards,
Dante

P.S. Ferus: Fuck you.

Halfway There

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I got a virus on my computer, which deleted system32. Yep. So I had to go and fix that by myself because I've been paranoid of leaving my room ever since Morningstar came here...

I can see how a virus could get past my antivirus because that happens quite frequently, but I do regular Process Explorer checks to see if there's anything sketchy on my computer. Hmm... I don't like it, anyway. It doesn't mean that Murphy and Morgan are behind it, but random virus attacks in the middle of a slenderstalking are weird.

Anyway, I've mostly been holed up in here, trying to avoid the outside world. I wonder if I'm going crazy.

...shit. The power just went out. If I don't respond within a week, well.

Regards,
Dante

Wedding Bells on an April Morn

I... I don't understand it. Is there something wrong with me? Is there something that causes me to be so messed up and hurt and depressed and suicidal whenever proxies or Slender Man do something drastic? How am I the only one to suffer loved ones dying, to carry the burden of the murder of innocents?

The Wedding, but it's not just the Wedding. It's everything. I read all these fucking blogs and posts about how the runner got away perfectly unharmed and how they suffered few casualties and how they're perfectly fine and ready to continue fighting the good fight... And I wonder how they can do that. Are they lucky? It seems that way.

I would kill to be that lucky. And acknowledging that makes it all worse.

It's just... Why should they be able to get away perfectly fine and sane and unharmed and alright and I can't? Is there something wrong with me? Am I doing something wrong? Am I just that pathetic of a person that I can barely survive as a runner? It seems to be so... I just wish I knew how to survive.

I was afraid of Morningstar. I... I thought everyone else was too, when they actually met him with his personal army with him. I know people say it's okay to be scared and normal and I shouldn't be ashamed, but... If no one else is as afraid as me, then what does that say?

You all have no idea how good you have it.

Speaking of the murder of innocents. Got a knock on the door today from the politsia. The same ones. A man and a woman. Said witnesses had seen me near the apartment building that had been... The one that Morningstar had chased me into and done that thing in. Caught their names, although in honour to the dead I'll give literary pseudonyms. Morgan and Murphy. Not quite Les Miserables, but Butcher is still a good author.

Police questioning is always fun. I just said I'd been walking to the grocery store and walked back, and I had passed by the apartment minutes before the... The massacre happened.

They're proxies. I'm sure of it. I can't prove it, but I know they are. I just know.

Regards,
Dante

I Could Not Stop For Death

All I need to do is avoid Morningstar for a few days, as he's taking a plane back soon.

I know he knows where I am (say that five times fast), as I had a little, um, run-in with him today. And his billion underlings. I'm still amazed I'm not dead, there were so many of them and they had guns and a snake (what the fuck) and oh my god I could have died in what i was planning on...

Uh, nevermind. I'll continue with the story first.

Unfortunately, being holed up in this room means that I don't have a constant supply of necessities, such as food, or feminine hygiene products (oh, you laugh now. just wait until you're reincarnated as a woman or something). I could have asked someone to get things for me... But that would mean that I'd have to trust them to not poison or drug my food and then drag me off and torture me and...

...Yeah. On with the story, Dante.

Okay. So, I was slightly paranoid at the time, if you haven't figure that out yet. No, not paranoid- It isn't paranoia if they really are out to get you. In retrospect, it would have been smarter to drive, but I was freaked out about someone cutting my brakes or putting a bomb under my car, so I decided to walk. Like the goddamn genius I am.

Bad idea.

I was halfway there when I found myself being shoved into an alleyway. One of the ones with a dead end, of course. I looked up to see who the fuck had pushed me in. A group of people. People with weapons. Scary looking people with weapons.

He knew I was unarmed, of course. Fuck, why did I post that? Oh well, it's too late now...

At first I was frozen. Yes, I was afraid. If it was just Morningstar, I wouldn't be. But... It wasn't. It was Morningstar and all his little underlings, and they had weapons and I didn't and holy shit i thought i was gonna die... Of course he taunted me, and I could just dumbly stare back.

And then he barked out his orders. To kill me, of course. And that's when I regained control.

I frantically looked around and saw that the heavens had smiled upon me for once, or at least thrown me a bone. A fire escape. I ran up it and of course they followed, but thankfully I was still ahead of them. I... I think I heard bullets being fired, but I can't be sure.

I got to the top and was certain that this was it, that I was going to die at the hands of Morningstar and was prepared to jump off the fire escape in an attempt to at least kill myself when I saw that there was a window. And it was open.

I have never before been so grateful for Corpus' weather.

I slid through the window and made sure to lock it behind me. At least then I'd know when they came in. I ran through the apartment and heard the glass shattering, but I quickly found the door to the hallway. I was on the fourth floor, and they were quickly gaining on me... This is the worst part. I feel sick typing it out.

I needed a distraction, so I made one. I screamed and shouted that there was a group of people trying to rape me. That's not the part that makes me sick.

The part that makes me sick is that I'm certain that every one of the people in that apartment building are dead. I don't know. I didn't... I didn't stick around to watch. How could I? I just sentenced plenty more people to death, and this time I don't even have the excuse of not knowing what I was doing. I knew exactly what was happening...

... And I did it anyway.

I sprinted down the stairs and got the hell out of there, trying to ignore the noises of the gunshots. I ran all the way back here.

Even if I don't have food, at least I have cheap vodka. Any guesses as to what I'll be doing tonight?

Regards,
Dante

How to shoot somebody who outdrew you

So that didn't work. At all. In retrospect, I should have listened to Glass, but he posted that comment after my attempt.

So I tried to shoot the Slender Man. Protip: Don't try this at home. It doesn't work out. At all.

I grabbed my handy shotgun and opened my window, and aimed for his head (yay for open sights? or not). Pulled the trigger, all that good stuff. It didn't misfire, thankfully, although the kickback was. . More than normal. Way stronger than usual. As in, fall over unusual. Once I composed myself, I ran back to the window to see what the hell was going on, to see if it had worked or not.

He had a tentacle out in front of his lack-of-face. Holding a bullet. oh shit, right?

I was just staring back at him... I couldn't move. I don't know if it was because of fear or slendermagic or whatever, but I couldn't move. It's hard to get across in text, at least with my style of writing, but when you shoot something and it grabs your fucking bullet, it's a little... Disconcerting, if you know what I mean. Especially when the kickback on your shotgun has caused you to FALL OVER.

So I was standing there at the open window, staring at him with wide eyes, clutching my shotgun, when one of his tentacles shoots out and races towards me. This is it, I thought, trying to move out of the way, trying to get out so that I don't get impaled and end up like J.D.

I didn't get out of the way in time. He grabbed my shotgun and knocked me over with it. Have you ever been hit with a shotgun? It hurts. Badly.

By the time I got back to the window, the Slender Man and my shotgun were both gone. So now when Morningstar comes to visit, I'll be without a weapon.

Fuck my life.

Regards,
Dante

A Heaven of Hell

Morningstar is in Texas.

Yeah.

So I'm huddled up in my tiny room. With a shotgun. And a laptop, obviously. There's a window, and I'm trying to avoid it, because guess who is out there.

It ain't our dearest darlingest Lucikins.

He's just standing there. Watching me. I don't... I don't like it. Is it revenge for the Operation Wintergreen thing? Too bad, Slender Man. I don't feel bad about it. We gave that little girl something, something she wouldn't have had hanging on a tree.

A chance.

Here's a question for all my readers. How does a man watch someone when he has no eyes? I'd like to know that. It's disconcerting. Creepy. I want to open my window and shoot him right now.

Actually.

Why didn't I try that before?

Regards,
Dante

"Bring me my brown pants."

Ship is sailing the oceans. 


A pirate ship appears on the horizon. The captain says "Men, bring me my red shirt!" The first mate fetches the shirt and the captain successfully leads an attack on the pirates that sinks their ship. 


One of the sailors asked the captain "Why do you wear a red shirt in battle?" The captain responded: "Because if I am wounded, you will not see blood and will continue to fight as if nothing is amiss." The crew was astounded at the bravery of the captain. 


Later, twenty pirate ships appeared on the horizon. The men looked to the captain, waiting for the request that brought everyone so much strength. The captain looked at the horizon and said, "Men, bring me my brown pants!"

Operation Wintergreen is over now.

I arrived at Hotel California about a week ago. When I got there, Zabulon from A Sleepless Night was already there. Soon after, two men without blogs showed up- Alan Hartford and Jared Brookover. They said they didn't have blogs, but they'd been following Arkady and the Arkadyettes for a while. A while later, AmalgamationSage from Records of Impossibility showed up as well in his astral form (which happened to be a woman in a straw hat with a katana. whut.). That was our group, the ten of us. A ragtag bunch of misfits with knives, two swords, a shotgun, and a paddle.


Setoth, Arkady, Alan, and I were part of the distraction group. You see, we had two teams: The distraction group, to keep the proxies from going after the other team, and the attack group, who were going to face off against the Slender Man and save Sara.


It's funny, in retrospect. Glass commented on their post, saying to kill him. Who did we think we were, facing off against him?

Anyway.

The proxies were gathering outside of the hotel for a few days. I don't know what Setoth did, but whatever it was, it worked. "Magick", I suppose. Quantum physics. I don't know, although I really don't care. It worked, and that's what matters.

On Friday, at midnight, we began.

The attack group went off to the forest and we fought the hoard of zombies proxies that Setoth had drawn. Arkady was grinning like  a maniac as he sliced and diced them, but then again, he'd been acting like a child who was given a sack full of their favorite candy all weekend. Setoth was chanting and using his magic, and also using his paddle. I still think it was a weird weapon, but to each their own. Alan had brass knuckles and a knife. We were saving my shotgun for later, although we had to resort to it fairly quickly.

Oh, right. I was the only one who brought a gun. Forgot to mention that.

At first the proxies thought that we all had shotguns... But they realized rather quickly that not all of us did. It was just me. So of course they went for the reasonable course and tried to kill the person with the shotgun. It didn't work, as you can clearly see...

Actually, I wasn't injured until later on in the fight. I guess that's the good thing about long-range weapons, even if a shotgun is kind of inconvenient. I really should get an assault rifle before I die... Anyway. A proxy with a chainsaw came in. That's right. A chainsaw. I don't really know where he got it, but... But that really doesn't matter.

Then Javert and his cronies showed up and things went to hell. Arkady was shot and Setoth smacked Javert in the face with his paddle. That was pretty badass, I do have to admit it... Arkady jumped on Javert and began beating him up and punching him. Beat him senseless, and kept doing it until Setoth informed Arkady that he was, in fact, dead. In the meantime, Setoth had put the proxy with the chainsaw on fire...

...It didn't work. I kept shooting at him and I don't know how many bullets I put into that son of a bitch but he kept going. I don't even...

Arkady tried stabbing the man in the neck and emptied Javert's pistol into the man. It didn't work.

None of it worked...

The chainsaw man was the one who killed Alan, eventually. He hit him with it and I shot the proxy in the head. It didn't work, but it did distract him, so now I have a nice bandage on my stomach. even though that wound happened before, when Setoth set the man on fire...

Sorry this is so chronologically messed-up. I'm trying to gather my thoughts. It's just... It's just really hard to. These were the first blogs I read, you know. I clicked the link on TVtropes, the one for anti-heroes, and then...

Okay, I'll continue. That can come later...

The chainsaw proxy wasn't dying. Alan was down, I had an injury, and Arkady had been shot. Setoth was injured as well. . We all were.

You know in the movies, when things happen in slow-motion? It really does happen. You notice all sorts of things. You notice how Arkady and Setoth were together pushing the knife into Arkady's chest. You notice how the knife glowed with Setoth's magick-quantum shit. You notice how Arkady's shirt was already blood-stained. You notice how the blood droplets fell right into the circle.

There was a flash of light, an explosion, and then I woke up to Michenab and Sara and Alan's dead body. Zabulon and AmalgamationSage are still alive. But everyone else, they're all dead. Arkady, Setoth, Kal, Alan, Jared...

Does it matter that I didn't know them long? Like I said, I'd been reading the Operation Wintergreen blogs for months... Those were the first Slenderblogs I'd read. And now, now they're dead. Gone forever...

So rest in peace.

Rest in peace, Arkady Ivanovich Svidrigailov.

Rest in peace, Damien.

Rest in peace, Kalias.

Rest in peace, Alan Hartfort.

Rest in peace, Jared Brookover.

And tell the adversary I say hi.

Regards,
Dante

Courted by Death

In case you're not following Operation Wintergreen (and if you're not, why aren't you?), I should tell you all I've joined up with those guys in some kamikaze mission to kill the Slender Man. So I'm here now at Hotel California. It's kinda creepy, really. As for why I teamed up with them... I dunno. I'm gonna die soon anyway, right? So I might as well try to do something to try to save other people. If I'm gonna go down, then I'll go down fighting.

Also, the reports are true: Arkady looks like an addict. He's not following this blog, though, so he'll probably never find out I said this. I'm pretty sure we're all going to die anyway. Like, 99% sure.

After all, people who go up against the Slender Man don't live to tell the tale.

As for everyone else, they're pretty much how I expected them to be, although Zabulon has a broken rib. That's right. A broken rib. I'm giving him props for coming here, though, especially with an injury like that. Seriously man, if you survive this mess and happen to read this, know that you did something really badass.

I know I said I was trying to avoid slenderblogs, but hell. I'm going to die anyway. I know I keep saying that, but I feel like I haven't fully accepted it... Anyway, I might as well do something great in this time I have left, or die trying.

Regards,
Dante

Reflections

Oops. Sorry about that cutoff a few days ago. I had to get that out there before I answered the door. You understand, right? Of course you do.

Now, then.

Anyway, there was a knocking on the door right before I posted that. Not a rap rap rapping on my chamber door, an actual knock. Thankfully. So I got up and answered the door. The FBI. Great. Just my luck. They wanted to know about the fire at my apartment, and they had some questions. I asked to see their badges.

The names were familiar. Can't place them. Fuck.

I think they were agents. Not just for the FBI, but also for the Slender Man. Oh hell, of course they were. Isn't that how every blog goes? Of course it is... Anyway, they had some questions for me. I answered them. Don't worry, I was being careful with my answers. Had to be.

I wonder if they're just trying to fuck with me? It'd make sense. Bastards.

So now I'm here at some random location which I won't post, not that anyone couldn't find out if they didn't want to. I'm trying to keep up with the blogs, although it is hard. So much has happened lately. Zero, Robert... Trying to avoid these things, though. They do draw him to you, after all.

Still, though. I gotta get this out there.

As for my PhD: I've given up on that. I'll just read Hawking and watch Khan Academy videos from now on in my spare time and hope that while I'm doing that nobody sneaks up on me and rips off my limbs and removes my organs and blood and sticks my mutilated corpse into garbage bags just like what happened to my friends at Stanford...

I can't think about that, though. These things draw him to you, after all. So I'll stay here, and hopefully live. Sorry, Morningstar, not gonna lay down and die. If you really want me dead, you'll have to come here and kill me yourself. Until then, I'll live. For them.

Regards,
Dante

P.S. When the fuck did you get your PhD, Morningstar? Son of a bitch.

P.P.S. Yes, Maurice, I'm a girl. You didn't notice by my icon? It's Marie Curie, a badass female physicist from a time when women weren't physicists.

it's quiet. too quiet.

I'm sorry I haven;t been posting lately I just don;t know what to talk about I haven't seen the Slender Man for a while now not since that time on the highway and it's really bothering me for some raeson... i don't knowl All I know is that thias is WORSE than being stalked by him.

I don't know what's going to happen next and it's worrying me and I'm afraid for myself and for my sister and for my family and oh my god why did I even come here.

I'm just a murderer a filthy murderer. And what's worse is that I casnt even post this because I'm so ashamed...

---

Alright, it's been a few days since I typed that up and I think I'm a lot more calm now. Hopefully calm enough. I don't know, how can I be calm?

My apartment complex burned down. Yes, you heard me correctly. Burned. To. The. Ground.

It took a while for me to stop being a self-pitying wreck and get myself together, but once I did, I realized it might be a good idea to get out of my house. This place was going to be my grave if I didn't, after all.

Oh man. That thought is way more true now that this is over.

So, I grabbed coffee. What else could I do? Besides, caffeine has that nice quality of just making you feel better. I imagine that whomever the hell burned down my house (I imagine proxies?) wasn't expecting me to leave or something.

Anyway, I got back some amount of time later (it couldn't have been more than an hour) and my apartment was gone. Ashes. Ashes everywhere.

I dunno what to

oh fuck

"Now what we have here is a failure to communicate."

Today, my sister showed up on my doorstep. I didn't tell her or my parents my new address. That was disconcerting.

My sister is thirteen. She's also full of herself. We'll call her V. Here's the conversation we had:

Dante: What are you doing here?

V: I wanted to visit my sister. What's so bad about that?

Dante: How did you find this place, anyway? I'm not listed in the phone book...

V: It's called the internet, oh-brilliant-one. There are websites that list an awful lot of information about people.

Dante: And those sites also require credit cards, if I recall correctly.

V (shrugs): I stole Dad's.

That is my little sister. Isn't she such a nice soul?

So, I rolled my eyes and invited her in, and asked her why she'd showed up here. Turns out she was worried about one of her friends who had been acting strange lately. She suspected drug use and after hearing the description, I agreed. It sounded a lot like cocaine abuse from what I remember from all those "DRUGS ARE REALLY BAD" health classes, with some other stuff as well. This, children, is why I stuck to weed.

My sister is a decent person, as you can see, when she isn't being a self-centered brat.

I'm a bit worried, though, about the family communication that happened today. I haven't seen the Slender Man since I arrived here, so maybe that's a good sign? Still, though, I don't want my sister to become infected because of me... Hell, I don't want her to become infected at all.

Regards,
Dante

Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday. I can't be sure.

My mother didn't. I'm sure someone's did, but my mother definitely did not die.

At least, if she did, no one told me.

The waiting. It's the worst part, you know. I haven't seen the Slender Man since that incident on the freeway, but I feel like he's there. Waiting. Watching. He could be right behind me and kill me before I finish this post and I wouldn't even know it.

I'm becoming a paranoid, I think. I'm worried. I hate waiting. Can't you just show up already, Slender Man? I feel like I'm being played with. Toyed with. Like he enjoys watching me squirm, the sick bastard.

DIDN'T YOUR MOTHER EVER TEACH YOU TO NOT PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD?

... Maybe I need to go to a doctor and get some Xanax or something. No, wait. Doctors. They could be under his control. I could be sent to a mental institution crazy home loony bin or something where he would drive me fucking crazy and then there would be bags bags of my organs and blood and organs and no one would ever know what happened to me and and and...

Okay. Calm down, Dante. Chill out, be zen. This is what he wants you to do, to freak out. I can't play his game.

Still keeping my hourly journal, like how Jekyll advised. Before he... You all know what happened with him. I don't want that to happen to me. I don't want to turn out like that...

So I can't let him. I can't let the Slender Man win. I have to live, live for everyone I've killed so far, just like Maurice said. Because if I don't, then he wins. And I just can't let that happen.

Regards,
Dante

P.S. Did you know that Viktor Frankl found that people who are religious tend to live longer in hopeless situations? Maybe I should pray. I'm not keeping Shabbat right now, of course, and HaShem knows I've broken kosher more times than I can count. Maybe I should.

But then again, one can't force themselves to believe.

A matter of building bridges

...And then burning them? Wait, no, wrong quote.

I'm sitting here in my apartment now. My new one, in Texas, not the old one in California. I dunno if I'll be able to go back to college next semester, but I would really like to. It is a nice school, after all, and I would like to obtain my PhD before Slender Man kills me.

Really, Slender Man, I had two years left. TWO. YEARS. I've been in school for 20 years already, could you cut me some slack?

Speaking of the Slender Man, I haven't seen him around lately. Maybe Corpus Christi is too hot for a suit right now? In any case, I'm wary, and keeping my eyes open. And attempting to avoid my family, as Glass recommended (oh man, Glass, I'm so sorry man. that's just... crazy).

Regards,
Dante

P.S. Have any of you managed to finish your schooling while being stalked by our anorexic bffl? No? Dammit...

EDIT 6/9/2011: Holy shit I can't even spell my own city's name right.

"I went into the jungle when I was 17..."

Arrived in Corpus Christi yesterday morning. Slept for a very long time, until my dearest darlingest sister decided it was a good idea to pour ice water on my head because she wanted someone to play chess with.

With friends (a sibling?) like these, who needs enemies?

I haven't seen the Slender Man lately, not since I left, that is... I was driving down the 101 pretty early on in my trip when I noticed it was getting a little foggy. Weird for almost June. I saw him there. In the middle of the road. It was really early in the morning and there weren't any other cars around...

I don't remember what happened next. When the blackout ended, I was on the 5 and an hour had gone by.

Fuck you, Slendy.

As for how I managed to be commenting on and reading other blogs while I was on the road, I made quite a few pit stops to get coffee. Sleeping is for squares, and I didn't want to wake up to a tap tap tapping on my window. Or wake up to a certain ex-sage trying to carve my bones out of my body. I know he's in Virginia (er, right?), but still. There's plenty of Zero wannabes out there.

Anyway, I have a chess game to win. I'll try to keep you guys updated, although I really hope there's nothing to update you guys on.

Regards,
Dante

Viva la vida

I'm alive.

I couldn't kill myself, anyway. I spent about half an hour attempting to come up with a good way that wouldn't be too painful, until I remembered that you can't overdose on aspirin. I own a gun, but it's at my parents' house. A couple states away. Whoops.

Anyway, when I finally did come up with a good way, I couldn't do it. It wasn't slendermagic, I just... Couldn't do it. Too afraid, I guess. So I moped and sulked for a bit and wallowed in my depression, and got up to check my emails, figuring that if I couldn't even kill myself I might as well see what was going on.

And there were comments. And they actually made me feel a bit better. So, thanks guys. Thank you so much. It's nice knowing someone out there isn't trying to kill you.

So now I'm at Starbucks on the way to Corpus Christi to see my parents. If any of you proxy fuckers feel like waiting for me there, prepare to get run over at 90 mph. If I can't live for myself, then I'm going to live for everyone who has died so far, and if you want to try amd change that, well you can go fuck yourself with something sharp and sandpapery.

Regards,
Dante

Tragedy tomorrow; comedy tonight!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuxzTarpusI

Because it's not a slenderblog until I reference Broadway.

If by comedy one means it in the same way Franz Kafka meant it, then yes. Last night was definitely a comedy. You see, I walked into my friend's house and he had turned into a giant bug.

...No, I'm kidding. I wish that had happened. See, now I'm acting just like everyone else. Joking, trying tryin trying to get my mind off of this. Fuck. Fuck fuckf uck my life

I might as well give you guys the real story...

So I go over there, like the victim of a horror film (because that's what this is of course, a fucking snuff film and you're all only reading for your twisted entertainment) who is about to get brutally raped and killed by the scary guy with a chainsaw. that obviously didn't happen, as I am typing this up instead of the messenger guy.

He greets me. Amiable. Sane. Did you know batshit people are good actors when they want to be? Except there's always something off and there was this time for sure. Of course like the fucking genius I am I figure it's because he's a fucking Slender Man victim so of course he isn't gonna be all there. We sit down on the couch by a window (what the hell was I thinking) and I ask him what's up and I spy with my little eye an operator symbol hastily drawn on a piece of paper.

The situation is getting creepier and creepier by the second, and my friend begins coughing. I wanted to disappear right then and I wished I'd never ever gone... Fuck, why am I even writing this down? Maybe it's because they say it's better to just get it alll out... I don't even fucking know any more.

He looked behind me at something (outside the window, I imagine) for a second and I didn't fucking dare turn around because fuck if I'm gonna play Slender Man's little game, then grabs a fucking knife from behind a pillow and pounces on me like he's Zero and trying to get my bones to give to some bleeding tree or something and I dont even know...

Well that working out I've been doing paid off along with those akido classes I took as an undergrad student and I managed to get the knife away from him. I pushed him the fuck off of me and of course he tried to attack me again so I pushed him again one more time and tried to get the fuck out of there.

as I did I heard him say:

"You bitch! It's your fault everyone is dead!"

and he's right. it is my fault. It's my fucking fault that everyone is dead. I just killed my friends without even realizing it. Fuck. fuck fuck fuck. dammit. i should just go kill myself. maurice mentioned it one of my older posts and what the hell why not. I'm just a danger staying alive and everyone who is close to be could die ebcause of me...

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate

If you're reading this, congratulations. You have survived the Rapture.

Well, you know how I mentioned things have been getting really weird here lately, and also mentioned my friends acting weird in that post blogger deleted? I wasn't making that up.

Friend 1 didn't show up to one of our finals, which worried me. She'd been acting paranoid lately and scribbling in a journal a lot. Police found her body swinging from a doorway and they found trash bags and...and you all know where this is going don't you. Organs. Blood organs everything all stuffed into those garbage bags like trash trash trash. Her funeral is tomorrow and I can tell you this much it isn't going to be open-casket.

I won't be going.

Friend 2 has disappeared. Just... Disappeared. Won't answer the phone, emails, Facebook messages, anything... I filed a missing persons report but if Arkady's darling Javert is any idication Slender Man has control over the police force which means... Well, it means it might be better if my friend isn't found, if he's still alive.

Friend 3 has just been acting weird lately  of coruse like everyone else every other fucking victim of Slender man. Ivnited me over tonight, he sounded panicked over the phone, like he had to tell me something super important... Actually, I think he said that, verbatim.

So, I'm going over in a few hours. I hope when I get there I won't find his bloody corpse on the ground organs stuffed into bags like trash.

three people. Three. I've killed three people without even realizing it at the time. How many more, how many innocent people are reading this blog thinking, oh it's fiction! How many of them are going to look outside the window one day or go for a nature walk one day and see him standing there staring at them?

Hah. Maybe I should change my blog description. Maybe the first line of Commedia isn't good enough. Maybe I need something different.

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."

...I'm still sane enough to realize how cheesy that is, though. Don't worry.

Regards,
Dante

A quick update

Well, finals ended last week. Sorry I haven't posted in a few days (I really did mean this to be regularly posted in, I swear!); things have been getting creepy around here and I'm kind of freaking out but trying not to because I reeeally don't want to go crazy and end up like Zero or Jekyll or Josh or any other infamous people.

Summer at my parents' house is sounding like a better and better idea by the second. besides, I haven't seen my sister in a while.

I'll probably post in a few days with what's going on. Probably when I figure out what's going on.

Also, blogger still hasn't replaced my post yet. I know there's a lot that they had to delete, but it might've had some useful info for someone out there...

Regards,
Dante

Our enemy is very influential

I made a post on Wednesday, but it seems to have gotten deleted when blogger went down on Thursday. It hasn't come back up yet. It was about Slender Man and how the revenants and hallowed refer to him. Coincidence? Maybe, but it still worries me...

So I'll wait for blogger to put it back up again. Hopefully they will. I don't really want to type all of that up again...

I AM THAT I AM

Ah hell, I'm retyping this to the best of my ability. Blogger hasn't put it back up yet as of 5/26/2011, so to hell with it.


"No, I haven't gone crazy, not yet. It's a bible quote, Exodus (3:14).


Today, children, we're going to talk about why you shouldn't call the Slender Man "he that is"!


So, if you've ever argued theology with a Jew, then you know that Jews don't really tend to say the word "G-d". It's usually HaShem or in prayer, Adonai. This is because orthodox Jew follow the ten commandments to the letter. The first commandment is "do not take the lord's name in vain", so they don't tend to use his name in everyday conversation.


The most "srs bznz" name for G-d in the bible is YHVH (יהוה), aka the tetragrammation. Ah, them Hebrews and their hate of vowels. Anyway, you do not say the tetragrammation out loud. This is serious business, folks. Of course, plenty of gentiles do, but they're not bound by the rules of the Old Testament anyway. The pronunciations of YHVH? Jehova and Yahweh are the most common ones I know of.


So, now for the meaning of YHVH. YHVH is considered by most people to be based off of the verb "to be", with the Y in front making it masculine (so, sorry theorists, Abrahamic G-d ain't a woman). So basically? The translation is "he that is".


Yeeep.


tl;dr: Proxies are calling the Slender Man the Abrahamic G-d when they call him "he that is". Don't call the Slender Man "he that is" unless you worship him like a god. In which case, you belong in a room with padded walls.


Regards,
Dante


P.S. I've noticed that some people around me are acting weird...People who would have read my blog. Am I a murder? I didn't mean to do anything to hurt them oh god how many people have I killed...?"


And there you have it, folks. My YHVH rant. I realized this later on, but you'll also note that proxies tend to capitalize the h in "him" when talking about the Slender Man. Like how people do that for HaShem. Coincidence? Doubtful.


Regards,
Dante

Call me Ishmael

I really should give you all an introduction and an explanation. Isn't that how all the slenderblogs go? Some first message, and then an introduction some amount of time later.

Oh dear. I'm falling into a cliche, aren't I. I'll have to break that soon.

In any case: For obvious reasons, I won't be telling you my name. Just call me Dante. The Divine Comedy was a good fanfic, after all. I'm a grad student at some northern California university, and I study some kind of physics. That's all the personal information you need to know.

I found Marble Hornets about three weeks ago and about a week ago, I met him. I was stupidly running through the woods, my morning run (what the hell was I thinking) and there was fog, fog everywhere and had I actually thought about it then I would have wondered what fog was doing there in May but of course hindsight is 20/20.

I hadn't run that fast until that day.

Ever since then, things have been getting weird. Sometimes I see him, other times I think I see him but I don't know if I do maybe it's just a trick of the light? I'm scared. Really scared. I thought of using the Operator symbol to make him go away but I know that it could very well just call him to me and I really really don't want that. I did, however, begin making an hourly journal, like the one Jekyll had. I know Jekyll went crazy and died but at least it gave him a rough estimate of when he wasn't himself.

So, here's a toast to survival, even though none of us will survive.

Regards,
Dante

P.S. It appears I'm being followed by a certain... Executor. Hey man, did you know that it should be Executioner? Why do proxies have such a bad grasp on the English language? It's pathetic, really.

Blessed are the meek

One upon a time, I had another blog. I posted funny videos, cool webcomics, interesting quotes.

It's deleted now.

I made a mistake. A big one. One that I'm never ever ever ever going to make again. I posted a link to a Youtube channel I thought was creepy-cool. Marble Hornets. If you've never heard of that series, then close this tab on your browser and live a nice life. I envy you, I really do.

If you have heard of Marble Hornets, then you know exactly why I'm blogging here today. I'll be updating this regularly, hopefully.

Regards,

Dante