Hey guys. Sorry for my egregious lack of posting, but I had to take some time off to think; and one has a lot to think ABOUT when they're holding a bag filled the the remnants of a body that has to be at least a hundred years dead, don't they? Yeah, thought so. So I've been trying to get through school, which has been surprisingly uneventful; not even another spy from Fisk? Now I'm getting worried he's just trying that much harder.
Anyways, I've got spring break this week. That means that, once I've talked to my father some, and we've discussed the shit we're going to need, we're going on a road trip. Yes, to those curious, he still has NO idea about the truly heinous shit. All he knows is that I've been wanting to do some research on the guys chasing us, and whatever they're looking for. He thinks if we find it first we can bargain for our lives. I think if we find it we'll lose our lives even FASTER.
I'm trying to think of places where we've got weird shit happening. Places with REALLY bad reputations. Slendy can make people lose large chunks of time; could he replace them with other things? Roswell has been known for having incredibly high rates of 'abductions', and I'll be damned if those Greys don't remind me of Him. But that one doesn't quite feel right. It would almost be TOO easy.
Nevertheless, I'll be heading north this time. We're checking out the original 13 colonies; with any luck, we can try to find which state he actually piggybacked his way here from. I doubt it will help much, but the more we know, the more easily we can fight. And knowing how he got over here could certainly help us send him back.
I'll be trying to keep constant tabs on what's going on. For now, I think I'm just going to go wait until my dad gets home, and see if he isn't adverse to using up some of his saved up vacation time. Stay strong, people. We know he's out there, but we don't know what he's gearing up for. It can't be anything good.
-The Meteorologist
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
Well, I went back.
Goddammit, I'm as bad as Jay. I KNEW he'd be there, I KNEW he wouldn't let me go. I guess I at least managed to stay on top of it, though. I guess I kept myself mostly composed.
Let's see...I took my dog again. He doesn't seem to like them, either. I love the guy, and I'm pretty sure if he hadn't been there, I would've been a smear on the ground. Another statistic. Another person that went up against Him and lost. Goddammit, I'm rambling. Focus Zach, focus, he's not here...
I went at about noon this time. I took a shovel; I had every intention to check out one of those graves, and find what it was that He was so proud of. It also made a handy crutch when walking started to get hard, but I'll get to that later. I also took the Walkman; you'd be surprised what you can find for those things, if you know where to look. I won't say I was listening to Ron Brownz when I stepped inside...but I won't say I wasn't.
Walked in, things got dark again, yadda yadda. The part that was different here was that when I stepped inside, I didn't feel watched.
I felt JUDGED. It was like the trees themselves were trying to get me to leave. Or keep me there until I died. I'm not even sure anymore. God, I'm not sure about ANYTHING. I tried to remember the path I walked yesterday. I spent all day yesterday focusing on it, making sure I knew exactly where I was headed. I should've known better than to believe that place would be the same this time around. I don't even know when exactly I got to the graves, I just know that the whole time I was jumping at shadows. I felt like he was everywhere. I felt like I was going to piss myself. I think the only reason I hadn't was because I didn't eat or drink last night. I'm not sure if that was genius or retarded.
Those graves were the same, at least. I tried to find the one that seemed oldest; one or two had crosses that were almost falling apart. I picked one at random, and started digging. My dog had his leash attached to the loop of my pants; at least we could get lost together if he got upset enough. The ground was almost TOO soft. I barely even needed the shovel, but I wasn't gonna touch that shit with my hands. I barely even liked standing on it.
Anyways, took me...5 minutes to get to the sack? Maybe 6? I can't quite recall, because that was when he showed up. This time it WAS like something thin turning to face me. He was standing maybe 10 feet away, and he wasn't happy. I could tell that already. His tentacles were waving around like divining rods, and I barely kept from going unconscious. I think the tug that I felt on my midsection helped; my dog was yapping and charging with enough power to make it hard to stand. He didn't move, but that might have been because me and my dog were looking at him.
I can barely even describe what happened after I hit him with the shovel. The thing left my hand, his tentacles didn't even TRY to stop it, and then the thing hit him, and fell to the ground. It didn't even make him flinch. What DID happen was that he cocked his head; Ava said 90 degrees made her want to barf? The guy went a full 270 when I was looking. If I'd eaten I would've lost it. Then he just...stood there. He didn't lash out, his tentacles barely even waved anymore. He pretty much froze. I'm not sure, but I think he was trying to figure out why it even actually touched him. I guess he expected it to turn to dust, or shatter, or fly back at me, or something. All I know is something he wanted to happen didn't happen, and he didn't get why. Since it's just you guys, and I love you so much, I guess I don't mind sharing.
I painted the Operator Symbol ALL OVER that shovel. The head, the shaft, every. Single. Part. I don't know if it repels him, or summons him, or blinds him, but I do know that it does SOMETHING. Today, it saved my life.
I'm pretty sure if I hadn't done that, I never would've had time to unclip my dog from my pants. Once I did, that little guy flew forward like a rocket, and hit him RIGHT IN THE CHEST. I couldn't stop myself from smiling at that. He took a couple steps back from that, and my dog was racing around his heels, nipping and yapping. I don't even know what happened then, because I reached down to my belt, and pulled one of those 'grenades' Spender got me. I pulled the pin and lobbed that thing. I didn't even stop to see what happened as I grabbed that sack, and ran over there. Yes, people, I ran TOWARDS Slenderman. I really love my doggie.
The grenade slowed him down, that was for sure. Covered in that...white crap, I didn't think there was anything scary about him anymore. I grabbed my dog, and that was around the time I felt something sharp at my hip. I'm pretty sure he tried to stab me. I didn't even really notice, as I grabbed my dog by the collar and pretty much single-handedly pulled him along. Didn't take more than a minute before he was running by my side, and then I pretty much just grabbed his leash and put it between my teeth.
He popped up a couple more times, but he didn't try to attack. I guess it's the sack, or maybe it was the grenade. Who knows. I only know that I've got one more of these things, and I can't waste it until I get a chance to talk to Spender again.
I tried to get out of there, but Jesus Fuck it was like a horror movie. The branches were all hanging way too low, trying to snag my shirt, or grab my bag. I swear one of those things TURNED to grab at me once, but I managed to weave through. Dealing with those trees was probably as bad as dealing with Him.
Okay, that's a lie. Even just LOOKING at him like that was bad. I've taken four hot showers already, and my body still feels like it's hypothermic. That was the closest I ever want to come to Tentacle!Slendy again. But I'm home, and my dad is here, for what little that matters. I might not sleep soundly tonight, but I'll sleep, at least.
Oh, almost forgot. Though that may not be the right word, since I've been thinking about it for the last hour or two. I looked in the sack. I've been turning something that was inside in my hand while I type this.
Guys, I'm 100% positive. It's a finger.
-The Meteorologist
Let's see...I took my dog again. He doesn't seem to like them, either. I love the guy, and I'm pretty sure if he hadn't been there, I would've been a smear on the ground. Another statistic. Another person that went up against Him and lost. Goddammit, I'm rambling. Focus Zach, focus, he's not here...
I went at about noon this time. I took a shovel; I had every intention to check out one of those graves, and find what it was that He was so proud of. It also made a handy crutch when walking started to get hard, but I'll get to that later. I also took the Walkman; you'd be surprised what you can find for those things, if you know where to look. I won't say I was listening to Ron Brownz when I stepped inside...but I won't say I wasn't.
Walked in, things got dark again, yadda yadda. The part that was different here was that when I stepped inside, I didn't feel watched.
I felt JUDGED. It was like the trees themselves were trying to get me to leave. Or keep me there until I died. I'm not even sure anymore. God, I'm not sure about ANYTHING. I tried to remember the path I walked yesterday. I spent all day yesterday focusing on it, making sure I knew exactly where I was headed. I should've known better than to believe that place would be the same this time around. I don't even know when exactly I got to the graves, I just know that the whole time I was jumping at shadows. I felt like he was everywhere. I felt like I was going to piss myself. I think the only reason I hadn't was because I didn't eat or drink last night. I'm not sure if that was genius or retarded.
Those graves were the same, at least. I tried to find the one that seemed oldest; one or two had crosses that were almost falling apart. I picked one at random, and started digging. My dog had his leash attached to the loop of my pants; at least we could get lost together if he got upset enough. The ground was almost TOO soft. I barely even needed the shovel, but I wasn't gonna touch that shit with my hands. I barely even liked standing on it.
Anyways, took me...5 minutes to get to the sack? Maybe 6? I can't quite recall, because that was when he showed up. This time it WAS like something thin turning to face me. He was standing maybe 10 feet away, and he wasn't happy. I could tell that already. His tentacles were waving around like divining rods, and I barely kept from going unconscious. I think the tug that I felt on my midsection helped; my dog was yapping and charging with enough power to make it hard to stand. He didn't move, but that might have been because me and my dog were looking at him.
I can barely even describe what happened after I hit him with the shovel. The thing left my hand, his tentacles didn't even TRY to stop it, and then the thing hit him, and fell to the ground. It didn't even make him flinch. What DID happen was that he cocked his head; Ava said 90 degrees made her want to barf? The guy went a full 270 when I was looking. If I'd eaten I would've lost it. Then he just...stood there. He didn't lash out, his tentacles barely even waved anymore. He pretty much froze. I'm not sure, but I think he was trying to figure out why it even actually touched him. I guess he expected it to turn to dust, or shatter, or fly back at me, or something. All I know is something he wanted to happen didn't happen, and he didn't get why. Since it's just you guys, and I love you so much, I guess I don't mind sharing.
I painted the Operator Symbol ALL OVER that shovel. The head, the shaft, every. Single. Part. I don't know if it repels him, or summons him, or blinds him, but I do know that it does SOMETHING. Today, it saved my life.
I'm pretty sure if I hadn't done that, I never would've had time to unclip my dog from my pants. Once I did, that little guy flew forward like a rocket, and hit him RIGHT IN THE CHEST. I couldn't stop myself from smiling at that. He took a couple steps back from that, and my dog was racing around his heels, nipping and yapping. I don't even know what happened then, because I reached down to my belt, and pulled one of those 'grenades' Spender got me. I pulled the pin and lobbed that thing. I didn't even stop to see what happened as I grabbed that sack, and ran over there. Yes, people, I ran TOWARDS Slenderman. I really love my doggie.
The grenade slowed him down, that was for sure. Covered in that...white crap, I didn't think there was anything scary about him anymore. I grabbed my dog, and that was around the time I felt something sharp at my hip. I'm pretty sure he tried to stab me. I didn't even really notice, as I grabbed my dog by the collar and pretty much single-handedly pulled him along. Didn't take more than a minute before he was running by my side, and then I pretty much just grabbed his leash and put it between my teeth.
He popped up a couple more times, but he didn't try to attack. I guess it's the sack, or maybe it was the grenade. Who knows. I only know that I've got one more of these things, and I can't waste it until I get a chance to talk to Spender again.
I tried to get out of there, but Jesus Fuck it was like a horror movie. The branches were all hanging way too low, trying to snag my shirt, or grab my bag. I swear one of those things TURNED to grab at me once, but I managed to weave through. Dealing with those trees was probably as bad as dealing with Him.
Okay, that's a lie. Even just LOOKING at him like that was bad. I've taken four hot showers already, and my body still feels like it's hypothermic. That was the closest I ever want to come to Tentacle!Slendy again. But I'm home, and my dad is here, for what little that matters. I might not sleep soundly tonight, but I'll sleep, at least.
Oh, almost forgot. Though that may not be the right word, since I've been thinking about it for the last hour or two. I looked in the sack. I've been turning something that was inside in my hand while I type this.
Guys, I'm 100% positive. It's a finger.
-The Meteorologist
Saturday, February 26, 2011
I...think I'm ready.
Or as ready as I'll get. It's still pretty unsettling, and I can't close my eyes for long without freaking out.
I forgot to mention, I had my cell phone. Probably because it pretty much completely froze when I walked in there; even the clock stopped. I don't have any idea how long I was in there, but I was absolutely starving when I got home; ate two 12 ounce steaks, and then went to my room to crash. But, I'll get to that a little later. Back to my story.
Bear Grylls has got shit on me. I'm pretty sure even he would've tucked tail and ran in this place. It was like...you know that feeling like you're being watched? It was that, every second, all over. Some part of my brain was just screaming at my rational side to get the fuck out of here. Luckily, my dog likes to pull. I might have just hung around forever if not for that.
Wandering, wandering, just trying not to vomit...and then He shows up. Ava said it was like something really flat turning to face you? For me it was more like a puzzle being formed. First there were just random stabs of light, and tree branches, and leaves, and then there was a patch of black. Then I saw an arm coming, and the suit we all know and loathe...and then of course, the face. I watched him start to almost...fade in, piece by piece. And I had to loop my hand around my dog's leash 4 or 5 times to keep him from charging, and probably getting himself killed.
I should've brought some other weapon. I should've expected him. I should've known that I was in over my head. I guess that I'm not as smart as I think I am. Still, he didn't attack. He didn't even seem to care. At first, he just kinda stared at me, and my dog. Then he started walking forward, though walking wasn't really a word for it. Ever seen a puppet show? One with all those marionettes? Yeah, cut about half those strings and you're getting there. He was...jerking his body forward bit by bit, and I think if I'd turned to run he wouldn't have been half that slow. Or half as generous.
He was close enough for me to reach out and touch, when he pretty much...waved. I think he was showing me where to go. And I'm not sure if I said it, or he made me say it, or if I thought I said it, but I swear to God, I just knew what he wanted to say.
"Come and see."
That motherfucker was PROUD of...of whatever it was I found. I could feel it. I've always been good with intrapersonal skills; I'm usually the first to know when my friends are upset. But I just looked into that smooth face, and I couldn't even begin to say what he was feeling. Oh, I FELT it, sure enough, but...I don't think that the human tongue could speak any of the words he'd use to describe his feelings, and even just processing them would probably take years. I was sacred out of my mind, sure. Could barely move. But even more than that, I was PISSED. I hated this guy for being so fucking enigmatic. I hated this feeling of being a fish out of water. Of being alone. I hated the way I just couldn't UNDERSTAND.
Of course, I walked the path he pointed out, all the while my dog alternating between whimpering and snarling. I'm pretty sure he was behind us, making sure we didn't get lost. Jesus Fuck, I hate feeling corralled in every day life. This was just too much. But eventually I got there, and I don't even know what I saw.
At first it looked like a bunch of little stick men, but when I got close I could see they were crosses. Clumsy, lopsided crosses made worse by time and nature, but crosses nonetheless. I also saw a few rocks on top of what I just KNEW was graves. I didn't stop to count, because I was too busy sneaking glances to make sure He wasn't going to just rip my head off. I'm pretty sure I saw at least a hundred, though.
Then he pretty much came towards me again, and he reached out with one of those fucking arms.
And I woke up in my car, with a note pinned to my shirt. Actually, pinned to my chest; I felt a small prick every time I moved, and when I finally yanked it off, there was just a little note. I don't know if I wrote it, or if he had some Proxy waiting outside, or...shit.
It didn't say much. Just told me I can still back out if I want. He wants me to pass on what I saw, of course. But it said if I just end my blog now, and go back to my life, he won't come after me.
I don't believe it for a second, of course. What about you guys?
I forgot to mention, I had my cell phone. Probably because it pretty much completely froze when I walked in there; even the clock stopped. I don't have any idea how long I was in there, but I was absolutely starving when I got home; ate two 12 ounce steaks, and then went to my room to crash. But, I'll get to that a little later. Back to my story.
Bear Grylls has got shit on me. I'm pretty sure even he would've tucked tail and ran in this place. It was like...you know that feeling like you're being watched? It was that, every second, all over. Some part of my brain was just screaming at my rational side to get the fuck out of here. Luckily, my dog likes to pull. I might have just hung around forever if not for that.
Wandering, wandering, just trying not to vomit...and then He shows up. Ava said it was like something really flat turning to face you? For me it was more like a puzzle being formed. First there were just random stabs of light, and tree branches, and leaves, and then there was a patch of black. Then I saw an arm coming, and the suit we all know and loathe...and then of course, the face. I watched him start to almost...fade in, piece by piece. And I had to loop my hand around my dog's leash 4 or 5 times to keep him from charging, and probably getting himself killed.
I should've brought some other weapon. I should've expected him. I should've known that I was in over my head. I guess that I'm not as smart as I think I am. Still, he didn't attack. He didn't even seem to care. At first, he just kinda stared at me, and my dog. Then he started walking forward, though walking wasn't really a word for it. Ever seen a puppet show? One with all those marionettes? Yeah, cut about half those strings and you're getting there. He was...jerking his body forward bit by bit, and I think if I'd turned to run he wouldn't have been half that slow. Or half as generous.
He was close enough for me to reach out and touch, when he pretty much...waved. I think he was showing me where to go. And I'm not sure if I said it, or he made me say it, or if I thought I said it, but I swear to God, I just knew what he wanted to say.
"Come and see."
That motherfucker was PROUD of...of whatever it was I found. I could feel it. I've always been good with intrapersonal skills; I'm usually the first to know when my friends are upset. But I just looked into that smooth face, and I couldn't even begin to say what he was feeling. Oh, I FELT it, sure enough, but...I don't think that the human tongue could speak any of the words he'd use to describe his feelings, and even just processing them would probably take years. I was sacred out of my mind, sure. Could barely move. But even more than that, I was PISSED. I hated this guy for being so fucking enigmatic. I hated this feeling of being a fish out of water. Of being alone. I hated the way I just couldn't UNDERSTAND.
Of course, I walked the path he pointed out, all the while my dog alternating between whimpering and snarling. I'm pretty sure he was behind us, making sure we didn't get lost. Jesus Fuck, I hate feeling corralled in every day life. This was just too much. But eventually I got there, and I don't even know what I saw.
At first it looked like a bunch of little stick men, but when I got close I could see they were crosses. Clumsy, lopsided crosses made worse by time and nature, but crosses nonetheless. I also saw a few rocks on top of what I just KNEW was graves. I didn't stop to count, because I was too busy sneaking glances to make sure He wasn't going to just rip my head off. I'm pretty sure I saw at least a hundred, though.
Then he pretty much came towards me again, and he reached out with one of those fucking arms.
And I woke up in my car, with a note pinned to my shirt. Actually, pinned to my chest; I felt a small prick every time I moved, and when I finally yanked it off, there was just a little note. I don't know if I wrote it, or if he had some Proxy waiting outside, or...shit.
It didn't say much. Just told me I can still back out if I want. He wants me to pass on what I saw, of course. But it said if I just end my blog now, and go back to my life, he won't come after me.
I don't believe it for a second, of course. What about you guys?
Well, I've made up my mind.
Sorry to take so long. It's just...this was a pretty serious thing I'm stepping into. I want to make sure I'm not going to be letting anyone down before I run out there, and right into His arms. Or tentacles. Whatever. I talked to my dad about it, and I guess he had one of the best ways of putting it. He still doesn't get just how serious this is, but he gets that things are bad. And he said that if I sit here and let things get worse, without doing anything to help, then that puts me on the same level as Him. I guess, in a way, that's the part that does terrify me so much. It's not just the way he can be anywhere, or even how old he is. For me, it's how easily He can make us like him.
It might be because the ones going after him are already unstable. I don't quite know, but it's possible. All I know is that seeing this thing...being around Him too long...it makes us all bad people, too. It makes us do things we never would've thought of. We may be fighting him, but when it's all over...what's going to happen to the ones who went too far? Will we have to kill them, too? I'm not...God, this is hard.
But I guess the most convincing thing came from my teacher, yesterday. She was talking about how to live a creative life; I've always thought of myself as a creative guy. That was why this list hit me pretty hard.
Be surprised at least once a day
Surprise someone at least once a day
Wake up with clear goals
Take control of your schedule
I don't think I'm going to find any better opportunity for surprise than chasing Him. And clear goals? I think 'Killing Slenderman' is a pretty clear goal to me. Then of course, there's taking control. That's why I went to those woods yesterday.
No, I didn't go unarmed. No, I didn't take a camera. I had my dog with me, and that hunting knife I mentioned hasn't left my pants since Fisk came knocking on my door. Other than that, I'd managed to obtain a tazer from my aunt, who is also pretty shaken up by this. I don't think Fisk is desperate enough to start trying to make cops disappear, though. Even the FBI can't get rid of someone that completely. I'd hope, at least.
I'll get to the forest later. Right now I need to wake up and make sense of what the fuck happened before I tell anyone else.
-The Meteorologist
It might be because the ones going after him are already unstable. I don't quite know, but it's possible. All I know is that seeing this thing...being around Him too long...it makes us all bad people, too. It makes us do things we never would've thought of. We may be fighting him, but when it's all over...what's going to happen to the ones who went too far? Will we have to kill them, too? I'm not...God, this is hard.
But I guess the most convincing thing came from my teacher, yesterday. She was talking about how to live a creative life; I've always thought of myself as a creative guy. That was why this list hit me pretty hard.
Be surprised at least once a day
Surprise someone at least once a day
Wake up with clear goals
Take control of your schedule
I don't think I'm going to find any better opportunity for surprise than chasing Him. And clear goals? I think 'Killing Slenderman' is a pretty clear goal to me. Then of course, there's taking control. That's why I went to those woods yesterday.
No, I didn't go unarmed. No, I didn't take a camera. I had my dog with me, and that hunting knife I mentioned hasn't left my pants since Fisk came knocking on my door. Other than that, I'd managed to obtain a tazer from my aunt, who is also pretty shaken up by this. I don't think Fisk is desperate enough to start trying to make cops disappear, though. Even the FBI can't get rid of someone that completely. I'd hope, at least.
I'll get to the forest later. Right now I need to wake up and make sense of what the fuck happened before I tell anyone else.
-The Meteorologist
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Oh, hey. Post from my dad.
Not like that didn't freak me the fuck out or something. Still, I can't stay mad at the old man after this weekend. I think any normal person would've freaked out, too.
Trust them, dad. This is the closest you can get to the truth without getting in more danger. Even just by being my father, you're already a threat. Right now, though, it's just men with guns. Men you can deal with for now. Please, please, please, PLEASE. Don't ask me where I went yesterday. Don't ask me where I went TODAY. Don't pry into these things. For both of us.
For those of you wondering where I went, I did some investigating of woods in the area. I've been looking for strange circles of stone. Worn rock shrines. Graves. Anything that might hint at his presence in this area. I found...a few interesting things. Some forests that, according to stories, had been devoid of animal life longer than the oldest man in town could remember. Older than their GRANDPARENTS remembered. I didn't go looking yet, if only because I don't know if I'm ready for this yet.
Fisk is still snooping. Fisk still wants me pretty bad after Sunday. I'm working to the bone just to keep a bullet out of my head. If He gets involved...if He notices that I'm looking...I can't even imagine how it'll end. I don't want to get caught up like this. I want to help, guys. I want to stop this, before it'll end us all. But...I don't know. It just feels like getting AIDS so I can figure out a cure sooner. It's like if you could get AIDS just from LOOKING for a cure.
I'm still a kid. I have too many things still going on with my life. I can't go on the run; I don't need that kind of stress in my life right now. I...I'm sorry. Spender. Daisee. All of you guys. I know you all have your own things to do. Ireland. Redlight. But...if you can spare just a minute for me?
I don't know what to do. I don't know if I...if I'm ready to put my life on the line like this. I have an entire life ahead of me. So many things to do, so many places to go...I've never even left North Carolina.
If I get involved, I might have to start going on the move anyways. But I'll barely have any time to enjoy the sights.
Please...just...someone. Help me decide what to do. Help me decide if this is worth it. I'm just a kid. I'm not ready for this.
God, I need a girlfriend. But then He could probably take her from me.
-The Meteorologist
Trust them, dad. This is the closest you can get to the truth without getting in more danger. Even just by being my father, you're already a threat. Right now, though, it's just men with guns. Men you can deal with for now. Please, please, please, PLEASE. Don't ask me where I went yesterday. Don't ask me where I went TODAY. Don't pry into these things. For both of us.
For those of you wondering where I went, I did some investigating of woods in the area. I've been looking for strange circles of stone. Worn rock shrines. Graves. Anything that might hint at his presence in this area. I found...a few interesting things. Some forests that, according to stories, had been devoid of animal life longer than the oldest man in town could remember. Older than their GRANDPARENTS remembered. I didn't go looking yet, if only because I don't know if I'm ready for this yet.
Fisk is still snooping. Fisk still wants me pretty bad after Sunday. I'm working to the bone just to keep a bullet out of my head. If He gets involved...if He notices that I'm looking...I can't even imagine how it'll end. I don't want to get caught up like this. I want to help, guys. I want to stop this, before it'll end us all. But...I don't know. It just feels like getting AIDS so I can figure out a cure sooner. It's like if you could get AIDS just from LOOKING for a cure.
I'm still a kid. I have too many things still going on with my life. I can't go on the run; I don't need that kind of stress in my life right now. I...I'm sorry. Spender. Daisee. All of you guys. I know you all have your own things to do. Ireland. Redlight. But...if you can spare just a minute for me?
I don't know what to do. I don't know if I...if I'm ready to put my life on the line like this. I have an entire life ahead of me. So many things to do, so many places to go...I've never even left North Carolina.
If I get involved, I might have to start going on the move anyways. But I'll barely have any time to enjoy the sights.
Please...just...someone. Help me decide what to do. Help me decide if this is worth it. I'm just a kid. I'm not ready for this.
God, I need a girlfriend. But then He could probably take her from me.
-The Meteorologist
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Zach Isn't Here Right Now.
Looks like he was gonna write something before he ran out. I hope to God it's not something he doesn't want me to know about.
My son knows me well, so he'll recognize this one: I don't talk much. I feel like when you have something to say, it's best to say it quick. I'm really not one to deal with blogs or texting or any of that stuff. I have a cellphone and that's about it.
But sometimes a guy HAS to talk. And I think I'm gonna talk about Sunday. My son told me that we'd be expecting a guy with a bad temper, and maybe a gun or two. He said nothing about men with body armor and machine guns. Men with government IDs. Men that apparantly haven't shown up on the news, or in the obituaries.
This isn't just some asshole husband and a battered wife. Any of you feel like filling me in on what the hell IS going on?
My son knows me well, so he'll recognize this one: I don't talk much. I feel like when you have something to say, it's best to say it quick. I'm really not one to deal with blogs or texting or any of that stuff. I have a cellphone and that's about it.
But sometimes a guy HAS to talk. And I think I'm gonna talk about Sunday. My son told me that we'd be expecting a guy with a bad temper, and maybe a gun or two. He said nothing about men with body armor and machine guns. Men with government IDs. Men that apparantly haven't shown up on the news, or in the obituaries.
This isn't just some asshole husband and a battered wife. Any of you feel like filling me in on what the hell IS going on?
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Alright, bravo Fisk. I'll give you this one. That...that was simply terrifying. I hope never to cut it that close again.
There had to be at least a dozen men out there, all in bulletproof armor. Luckily, they didn't have anything particularly useful to protect their heads. Another mistake on his part, but hell. At first we were just trying to figure out where they were heading, until they broke into three groups; I think they were going to have two of them come around either side, and one try for the front door. If they'd stuck together I probably wouldn't even be writing right now.
Those four guys? They ran across Spender's ONE goon and took him down in about half a second. I think he got one shot off. If that. The other four probably weren't expecting to see cops, though. Fuck yeah, score one for us. I was watching through the window, and there about a 5 second period where they didn't even know what to think. In that time, two of them got shot. Still, that armor's damn good; they were standing back up a couple seconds later.
By then, of course, they were starting to fire, and there wasn't much we could do; some police issue handguns against what looked a hell of a lot like machine guns? Only my aunt and one other guy managed to make it behind the shed, and she only managed to stay alive because none of them could really tell where to shoot.
My dad and my uncle's hunting buddies were up front with rifles, and they had a little more luck. Namely, they got a couple of them in the legs, and that managed to slow them down no small amount. Ava's mother was SUPPOSED to be hiding in the bathroom, but good luck there. She ran into the hallway about as soon as people started firing, and she looked pretty pissed. I think, if we'd had any more guns, she would've walked out there and started firing herself.
Luckily enough, there was enough light to make it impossible to REALLY pin down the muzzle flashes. Not that they really needed to. There are only two rooms that they could actually fire from, and both rooms were under the heaviest fire I think any of them have seen. Our insurance agent will have a heart attack when he hears about this.
The only reason we weren't overrun in the first 30 seconds was because Spender had sent that extra artillery. I opened one of the kitchen windows and tossed a grenade out the window; nearly lost my ear because of it, but dear God it was sweet to hear those screams when it went off. I think, by then, we'd wounded four, maybe five of them. There were still over half ready to break into this place and turn us all into smears on the carpet.
That is, until the P.T.C. showed up. Six guys, armed with I don't even know what. The four of Fisk's up front went down before they could even turn to see who was shooting on them. That left us with two trying to gun down my aunt, two trying to work their way inside, and three guys that didn't quite move out of the grenade in time. There were still 5 guys that could do us some pretty bad damage if they got inside. I'd put a bookcase in front of the back door, and I'd been holding the shotgun at the front door, so either way they wouldn't have an easy time of it.
They took...three minutes to get through the back door? That was a sturdy bookcase, and they weren't expecting to have to break a door down, I guess. By then I was right beside the door, and the first guy through took a load of buckshot. Even his vest couldn't save him from that. The other two tried to climb over the bookcase, and one of them got his nose broken by the butt of this thing. He was already falling over as I looked up to see the barrel of a gun.
And then Spender, that son of a bitch, finally stepped in. I didn't even see him at first. I just noticed the guy went a little stiff, and I heard someone say something; I wasn't really listening, but I'd bet a thousand bucks what he said before he blew that guy's brains out. The rest of them ran the hell out of there when they saw the P.T.C. and Spender coming their way.
All in all, the whole thing took maybe five minutes. Total casualties on their side: 7. Total casualties on our side: 6.
I guess I could call that a victory, but damn. It sure doesn't FEEL like one.
Your mom's fine, Ava. I guess we're all going out for dinner tonight.
-The Meteorologist
There had to be at least a dozen men out there, all in bulletproof armor. Luckily, they didn't have anything particularly useful to protect their heads. Another mistake on his part, but hell. At first we were just trying to figure out where they were heading, until they broke into three groups; I think they were going to have two of them come around either side, and one try for the front door. If they'd stuck together I probably wouldn't even be writing right now.
Those four guys? They ran across Spender's ONE goon and took him down in about half a second. I think he got one shot off. If that. The other four probably weren't expecting to see cops, though. Fuck yeah, score one for us. I was watching through the window, and there about a 5 second period where they didn't even know what to think. In that time, two of them got shot. Still, that armor's damn good; they were standing back up a couple seconds later.
By then, of course, they were starting to fire, and there wasn't much we could do; some police issue handguns against what looked a hell of a lot like machine guns? Only my aunt and one other guy managed to make it behind the shed, and she only managed to stay alive because none of them could really tell where to shoot.
My dad and my uncle's hunting buddies were up front with rifles, and they had a little more luck. Namely, they got a couple of them in the legs, and that managed to slow them down no small amount. Ava's mother was SUPPOSED to be hiding in the bathroom, but good luck there. She ran into the hallway about as soon as people started firing, and she looked pretty pissed. I think, if we'd had any more guns, she would've walked out there and started firing herself.
Luckily enough, there was enough light to make it impossible to REALLY pin down the muzzle flashes. Not that they really needed to. There are only two rooms that they could actually fire from, and both rooms were under the heaviest fire I think any of them have seen. Our insurance agent will have a heart attack when he hears about this.
The only reason we weren't overrun in the first 30 seconds was because Spender had sent that extra artillery. I opened one of the kitchen windows and tossed a grenade out the window; nearly lost my ear because of it, but dear God it was sweet to hear those screams when it went off. I think, by then, we'd wounded four, maybe five of them. There were still over half ready to break into this place and turn us all into smears on the carpet.
That is, until the P.T.C. showed up. Six guys, armed with I don't even know what. The four of Fisk's up front went down before they could even turn to see who was shooting on them. That left us with two trying to gun down my aunt, two trying to work their way inside, and three guys that didn't quite move out of the grenade in time. There were still 5 guys that could do us some pretty bad damage if they got inside. I'd put a bookcase in front of the back door, and I'd been holding the shotgun at the front door, so either way they wouldn't have an easy time of it.
They took...three minutes to get through the back door? That was a sturdy bookcase, and they weren't expecting to have to break a door down, I guess. By then I was right beside the door, and the first guy through took a load of buckshot. Even his vest couldn't save him from that. The other two tried to climb over the bookcase, and one of them got his nose broken by the butt of this thing. He was already falling over as I looked up to see the barrel of a gun.
And then Spender, that son of a bitch, finally stepped in. I didn't even see him at first. I just noticed the guy went a little stiff, and I heard someone say something; I wasn't really listening, but I'd bet a thousand bucks what he said before he blew that guy's brains out. The rest of them ran the hell out of there when they saw the P.T.C. and Spender coming their way.
All in all, the whole thing took maybe five minutes. Total casualties on their side: 7. Total casualties on our side: 6.
I guess I could call that a victory, but damn. It sure doesn't FEEL like one.
Your mom's fine, Ava. I guess we're all going out for dinner tonight.
-The Meteorologist
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