The end?

I guess I should tell you what's happened. Shortly after I wrote that comment on the last post responding to the Child, she entered my bedroom. Seething with anger, I shouted, "Stop messing with my head!"

She smiled. "Now, now. You'll appreciate me soon enough."

I pushed past her, laptop in hand, and dashed to the living room. She, not surprisingly, followed.

At a loss, I shouted, "Nightlanders, if you really want me so badly, then help me!!"

As I watched, black stains inched up the walls and soon my piles of books were flying through the air, straight at the Child. She tried to move out of the way, but it was too late. She was swiftly buried.

The Dog (in the guise of a Rottweiler) came in, teeth bared, growling. Its eyes were red and it was foaming at the mouth. Before my eyes, it began to grow.

Before it could attack me, I ran into the kitchen, where I grabbed the first weapon I found: a large knife. The great beast lunged at me, and I stabbed toward it, hoping to cause it pain. My panic and desperation and the fact that it was a beast must have overridden any worries.

Luck was with me: I had sliced its eye. It hesitated, and I took the opportunity, digging the blade as far in as it would go. But I couldn't pull it out. The knife was stuck.

Frantic to have a means of defense before the creature recovered, I whirled around the room. Finally I spotted the meat cleaver.

I turned back around just in time; it leapt toward me. I swung the cleaver, severing its back right leg.

I decided to get out of the house as quick as I could. I was climbing into my car when I heard the Dog come out after me. I saw humanoid bodyparts in its make-up. It must have used the Child to heal itself.

I heard her screaming. "You traitorous wretch! I'll--"

I stopped listening and slammed the door. The abomination approached. I started up the engine and acting on instinct, I rammed head-on into the Dog, smashing its body against the front of my house. Loose fragments of bricks clattered to the ground.

Backing up, I decided in my panic to head to one of the few places in my life: the bookstore I used to work for.

It chased me. All the way there. For twenty minutes. It never slowed even for a moment.

Once I parked, I jumped out and ran through the entrance.

"Everybody! This is an emergency! You have to get out now!"

People looked at me in confusion until they saw the 5-foot-tall Dog bounding in behind me. There was screaming and running. Parents scooped up children and made for the emergency exits.

I ran straight down the main aisle, the Dog close behind.

I dove into the children's section, hiding under the table where puzzles sat. The Dog hadn't seen me go under, so it began to sniff for my location.

I coughed and looked down at my hand. It was turning blue.

The place got quieter as most people had left, and the ones who remained were frozen in fear or unsure what to do.

The bell jingled as the entrance opened.

"Mr. Ni-ven!" came a sing-song voice.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Mr. Niven, I know you're here! You shouldn't have done what you did! After I deal with my dog, I'm coming for you. And you will love me and spoil me and be heartbroken when I leave. Forever."

I saw her tiny shoes come into view. A trail of blood flowed down the front of her dress and dripped from the stump of her arm.

I whispered a curse.

Coming closer, she lowered her head until she could see me with her lone eye. The empty socket leaked blood onto the floor.

"I can't forgive you this time. No matter how much you pamper me, I will hate you. Won't that make you feel even worser?

She left me alone. I heard their incessant whispering in my head. Trembling, I held my breath.

I tried to relax, like the Voice taught me, but it wasn't helping. I couldn't do it.

I remembered what it said--not to hold my breath. I forced myself to inhale and exhale with deep breaths. I still trembled.

Shadows raced across the walls toward me.

"Help me," I whimpered. "Please!"

The Darkness surrounded me; there was no way out this time, not even a Door.

Adrenaline raced through my veins. Something in my head snapped and I was no longer afraid. Of anything.

The Darkness moved closer, but when my blue hand came into view, they stopped. I don't know why. Maybe because the Plague Doctor had marked me, because I was his target?

Whatever the reason, I seized the moment and sprinted from them.

I met up with the Dog and together we sought refuge in the storage room. Now that we were alone, he turned on me, but I was ready.

I kicked it on the nose and grabbed a boxcutter that was lying among the boxes. The Dog tore my shirt. I sliced and stabbed at the beast until sweat was pouring down my face. It lay unmoving in a bloody heap.

Quietly exiting the room, I peeked around the corner and saw the Child there. She saw me. She smiled an inhuman smile. "Daddy!"

She came toward me, as though for a hug.

I ran back to the front of the store. The Child was right behind me.

I heard the door to the storage closet burst open and terrified screams of children.

The Shadows joined the race.

"How can you be doing this to me!" I yelled. "You're fictional!!!"

The Child answered calmly, "So are you."

Thinking about my options, I hesitated a moment, worried that Faceless might be right--am I a child killer? She was closing in. As fear and uncertainty and doubt gradually bled into my psyche, I realized that I was having a relapse.

But I couldn't let the fear hinder me, so I took a few deep breaths and forced myself through it, subsequently stopping and sticking out my leg, which tripped the Child. Then I saw that she was next to one of the bookshelves. Quickly running to the other side, I shoved it onto her. To my surprise, I found satisfaction in her groans of pain.

I doubled back down the path I came, the Darkness in pursuit.

Regardless of my being the target of Others, they still wanted me for their purposes.

The lights began to flicker and sparks flew.

In their frustration, they turned to re-ordering whoever was left in the building in our path.

It was a terrible sight. I'd rather not describe it.

Some of the sparks caused books to catch on fire. The place being filled with ample fuel, the bookstore would soon be an inferno.

The Shadows fled. I left out the back door.

The store burned fast. I saw no one else come out. I hope that's the end of the Child and Dog.

Knowing the Nightlanders would likely still pursue me, I jogged to the park--a place that would be devoid of people at this time of night.

I could see them slithering after me in the pools of light cast by the streetlamps.

At the park, I tripped and fell, skinning my knee and getting dirt and grass all over me.

At the playground where the Child had first approached me from, they had me in their grasp. I was blocked by Them and by the playscape. I started climbing up some metal bars.

"Come with us," they whispered. "We are patient and merciful. We will give you another chance."

"You think I'll go with you after what you did to my sister? You're out of your minds!"

"Then we have no choice but to re-order yours."

They closed in and I clenched my eyes shut, preparing for the worst.

They scattered, and held their position several yards away from me. Turning, I saw that a Door had appeared next to me. I climbed off the playscape and took a couple steps toward it.
Laughing with relief, I slid to the ground, my back against the Door. I was safe for now. The Nightlanders wouldn't dare come near, and the Door wouldn't open itself. As long as I sat there and the Door remained, I was safe.

The Door has stood here for several hours now.

I think the City wants me, too.


I'm thinking about going in.

I know what happened last time, and I know it isn't the best idea. But once again, there is no other escape.

I have begun coughing up more blood. I don't think I have long to live.

That's why I think I have to go through the Door.

I recognize the clothes I'm wearing. Since time works differently in the City, it may prolong my life.

And at least I'll be free from the Others once inside. Wandering aimlessly for an eternity is better than being torn apart, or losing your life's purpose and meaning, or being controlled. Or dying from a horrible disease.

There's nowhere else for me to go. The City is the most freedom I'll get.


And if I don't really exist, does it really matter if I live or die?

But at least I fought back.

I'm afraid. I don't know what to expect or hope for anymore. The world no longer makes sense.

But I did all I could.

I'm going in now. Here goes nothing.

I can't take it anymore!!!

Tonight the Child and the Dog die.

Even if it's the last thing I do.

Father-Daughter Bonding

Got everything fixed, so I can update from home again.

My precious child and me ate popcorn and watched a movie on television. In fact, it was The Exorcist. She didn't like it. Said it should've been scarier.

Anyway, I promised to take her out to get ice cream tomorrow.

Who knew being a father was so much fun? (Though it'd be easier if I wasn't afraid I might just up and choke her at any given moment.)

She's started wanting me to put her hair into braids. How cute. (But what if I yank her hair hard enough to rip it out and she bleeds?)

I've already tucked her in and read her a bedtime story--Rumplestiltskin. Only, in this version, Rumplestiltskin succeeds in taking the baby. She insisted on that ending. Oh, he also eats the baby at the end. She thought that was the funniest thing. :)

Me going along with that so easily was...disheartening.

I wish I wasn't so worried all the time. Poor thing needs a father who isn't distracted by irrational fears.

I'm ready to kill

That little witch cut my phone line and smashed my cell phone! I'm having to access the Internet from the library.

How am going to make an appointment now?

Then again, if this is from a supernatural entity like the Plague Doctor, perhaps no one can help.

My throat is sore and I've been itching all over. My insides are roiling and I want to die!

More than just from this sickness. Even when my head is clear and I'm fully aware of what she is, my intrusive thoughts have been acting up, and I've been sweating a lot out of terror. I'm on the verge of tears.

A brighter day

I'm feeling better today.

I'm not sure if it was a dream, but last night I thought I woke up and saw shadows moving on the walls. The Dog barked for awhile and I think that scared them away.

Thinking back to my time at Shady Lawn has got me worrying that they might have injected me with something without my knowledge.

I think I should see a doctor. I'll be more careful this time, though.

Ugh

I ahve started coughing up blood. I think I'm sick with something. I feel terrible.

The Child acted all sweet and innocent all day. I hate her.

This is a short post because I;m going to lie down now,

What She Wants

So me and the Child went to an amusement park today called Funfunfun! (Yeah, lame, I know.)

We were having the time of our lives until I hit my head during one of those rides where you spin around really fast. I felt like I was going to lose my lunch. Anyway, that bump brought me out of my stupor.

My head clear, I demanded the Child explain to me what she wanted.

"Well, Mr. Wells (or should I say Niven?), I was intrigued by you. You know why?"

I didn't answer.

"Here's why: we're the same, you and me. I'm without a name; you're without a name, in a way. I become the focus of people's lives to the point where all they have is me; you were all your parents had. I betray them and leave, breaking their hearts, and they lose the will to live without me. They lose their purpose in life. You betrayed your parents, too, by abandoning them.

"Basically, you're my little experiment: I want to know what happens to someone when I do to them the same thing that they did to others. WHat happens when I target someone like me? It will be fun. It will be fascinating."

"Not sure how that will work out," I said. "I've been having intrusive thought problems again. Assuming you've read my blog you're well aware. What if I just up and decided to hurt you on purpose, while I'm still lucid? Not accidental thoughts, but intentional ones. No anxiety. What if I pull you out of the restraints and hurl you off this thing? What if I smashed your head into the side? I could, you know. I'm willing to go to a mental institution if it means the end of you, so long as that maniac Beakman doesn't work there," I said bitterly. Then added, "I've decided that my purpose in life is to destroy you, and the others like you. You won't take that from me. I won't let you."

She laughed. Not like a child laughs, but like an old woman, but still with a child's voice.

"Good luck with that. You will have succumbed to me soon enough."

Finally the ride stopped and we got off.

"I'm going home," I said.

Not surprisingly, she followed me.

Some kids we passed as we exited the park pointed and made jokes about how hideous the Child was. They stopped when they saw my look of anger, though it was not aimed at them. I made a sign to encourage them to continue.

This brat needs as many people as possible against her. She's an infernal, impish trap.

She's still here with me now. I wish she would leave me alone.

A Fun Day

Today I awoke with that lovely child's dog at the foot of my bed. He enjoyed a tummy rub.

His eyes looked red for a second, though. I don't know if something's wrong with him, but it looked kinda cool, I guess.

Anyway, I woke up my little precious daughter and told her I would take her to an amusement park today. She was so excited! Her eyes lit up like a match!

So today should be a really fun day for the both of us! (As long as the thoughts aren't too bad. I already thought of smothering her with a pillow instead of waking her up. I know I would never do that, especially to a child. Damn OCD!)

Stay tuned for updates!

The Voice Returns

I tried to watch some TV today. That blasted Child just sat in the corner staring at me all day, smirking. She's even watching me now as I write this.

Today I saw her as being the ugly beast she is, but what of tomorrow?

The Voice spoke to me again.

It told me that I needed to have a set purpose, and to concentrate on that. That is apparently what she takes away, your sense of purpose. After, of course, destroying your life. With everything else gone, all you have is her.

As long as I hold onto my sense of purpose, I can remain strong against her. In fact, those were the final words of the Voice to me: "Stay strong."

Purpose. What purpose? What can be the purpose that I strive for and hold onto steadfastly against this demon?

I've got it: my purpose can be to destroy these things. (Even though they're already supposed to not exist.) I just have to figure out how.

I will stay strong. I will dusrtiurshiugohsiwj;elmfbjvgjzrhsd*gfhkrzjsdghhsghfjdk,jhfkwrkjthfkdjfghhi
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vm efhhrf efh iryg hihrighiuergisufhoiuer89utp947ty735)))))))))))))))))))0

Why!?!?!?

What the heck.

O_O

I woke up and found that stupid thing, the Unnamed Child, in my spare bedroom. How did she find me?

Looking at the last couple of posts I made yesterday, it appears that she has begun exerting her influence on me. (Not to mention the return of thought-related troubles. Never a good thing, even if it is toward this monster.)

Why me? What does she want?

It made sense for the Nightlanders to target me. But the Unnamed Child? I would've expected the Cold Boy or something, not the Unnamed Child.

I'm already alone. I have no one to be cut off from.

Why is she here?

Since I know about her and her MO, and since I know that she is supposed to be fictional (and perhaps me, too, but it sure doesn't feel like I'm fictional; then again, I suppose I wouldn't be able to tell), maybe I can resist her nefarious power.

A Second Chance

Good news! That girl came to my house! (Though I don't know how she found it...)

She said she forgave me for pushing her, as long as I didn't do it again. I agreed, though I don't know if I can be certain of that, since I actively, intentionally hurt hurt her! I feel sick to my stomach.

She also said I should adopt her. I haven't had a child before, and this precious little girl is so sweet and doesn't have anywhere else to go, so I agreed to this also.

Did you know, she doesn't even have a name?

I don't know what I'll call her yet.

I just tucked her in a short time ago in the guest room. There's something bad, though. Aside from me acting out my fears. My intrusive thoughts in general are acting up more than they have been lately. I keep having ideas that I might harm her again, but worse. What if I kill her in her sleep via suffocation? Or what if she comes out in the middle of the night to get some water and I happen to be standing near the kitchen knives or something? It's tearing me up inside. I feel sick.

I just wanna cry. I feel so horrible. I just wanna die.

I am a monster

I feel really bad. I hurt that beautiful little girl. I feel like a big jerk. The memory of her tears really tugs at my heart. Have my stressful thoughts been right all along!? I want to apologize. I just want to make her happy again.

Her

Something is starting to happen. I can feel it.

She showed up today.

I was taking a walk through the park when a large black labrador came at me. For obvious reasons, I was skittish, but the canine just stopped and sat in front of me, panting. Its eyes were normal.

As I relaxed, a little girl, about four or five, ran up to us.

"Oh, good!" she said. "My dog found you!"

When I looked at her, I saw her large, round eyes and curly brown hair. She was an adorable child.

Until I blinked.

When I opened my eyes again, her face didn't seem quite right.

I blinked again and she was a normal kid again.

Clearing my throat, I said, "This your dog?"

"Yep."

"What's his name?"

"He doesn't have a name. Like me."

I knew  then who what this was--the Unnamed Child. I quickly walked away, leaving them behind.

I heard little footsteps race toward me.

"What's wrong, mister?"

I stopped in my tracks and turned. "I know what you are. Now get away from me and leave me alone!"

I continued, but she followed.

"I said stay away!" I shoved her to the ground, hard.

Tears appeared in her not-quite-right eyes and she started bawling at the top of her lungs.

Others came near, to see what the commotion was, but they hesitated at the sight of her. They apparently saw her as she really was.

I ran out of there as fast as I could and came home. I've looked out the window now and then to make sure she's not coming after me.

...

I decided to do some more research on my recent experiences. It turns out there are other blogs. Lots of them. Nearly too many to ever wade through.

The clincher? They're all supposed to be fictional.

It turns out there's something called the Slender Man, who is a tall, faceless guy in a suit (sounds kind of silly, if you ask me), that someone made up on the Something Awful forums. People ran with the idea and began making all sorts of stories about him.

Some people got bored with this, thinking it was getting stale. So they made a spin-off "mythos" with other creatures. Other abominations.


I ended up going to the home page of that wiki, where it became clear all of this is fictional. These quotes make it obvious:

"The Fear Mythos is a spin-off of the Slender Man Mythos" How can real creatures be a "spin-off"? Then there's this: "If you wish to know more about the Fear Mythos or write for it, please visit the Fear Mythos forum."

"If you wish to write for it." These stories are made by writers.

That's when I found the Beginner's Guide to the Fear Mythos page, as well as the Blogs page, listing all the blogs.

Right there, listed under "Multi-Fear Blogs" was--Continuity Glue!!! It even has its own page, on which it says:

"Continuity Glue is a blog by The Nameless One (author). It follows an unnamed protagonist as he encounters Nightlanders and other Fears, which begins to drive him deeper into insanity."

According to the blasted Internet, my experiences, and possibly myself as well, don't exist.

This...just can't be.

You know what's even funnier? There's a character known as the Nameless One who is a servant to the Unnamed Child.

Insanity. Complete insanity.

Nightmare

I had a dream last night.

I was walking through a terrible wasteland. Buildings were demolished. Dead bodies were strewn all over the place.

It was like the end of the world.

There was fire everywhere, and the sun was obscured by some sort of smog.

I went over to one body and turned it onto its back. I began to drag it toward some others. Once there was a sizable group of corpses, I began to put them in order.

I'm not sure how to describe it, but doing this seemed to greatly satisfy some hyper-sensitive OCD compulsion that was bothering me.

As I admired my handiwork, I heard a noise behind me. Turning, I saw that it was a teenager. She stared wide-eyed at the bodies at my feet.

"M-mom? Dad!?" She ran toward them, but stopped when she saw me.

"You are afraid, young one," I said. "Let me help you. Together we can bring order back to this world."

She backed away. "No!"

"But the Darkness would like to have you aboard. It took awhile for me, but I eventually saw the...uh...dark. That's all They wanted from me: cooperation. We can bring complete order to the world. If you're willing, more willing than I was, there will be no problem."

I advanced toward her, hand outstretched.

"Get away from me!" she screamed.

She turned to run, but I caught her. Placing my hands on either side of her head, I worked to rearrange her mind. But she was quite stubborn.

The change didn't go as planned. She convulsed and dropped to the pavement, dead.

As I walked back toward my macabre masterpiece, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a broken window.

My eye sockets were empty and black, save for a small point of light in each. And my skin--it was as though shadows were constantly contorting across it.

A black wave arose behind me and I greeted it cordially.

"Fears"

What in the name of all that is good and holy is going on?

I found a whole wiki about these things. I typed in the various things I've experienced and stuff on a search engine, like "Nightlander" (which term I got from Ontological), "Door", "City", "black dog", "man in bird mask", etc. It was on this last one that I found something of interest: the outfit of a medieval plague doctor. It looked just like that man I saw outside a while back. So I searched for "plague doctor". There was just stuff about the medieval plague doctors and costumes so people could dress up like them. Not much help.

Then I typed in "Dr. Beakman" and found a page on a wiki called "The Fear Mythos" mentioning Dr. Beakman and "the Plague Doctor" together. This looked somewhat promising, so I clicked on it. It turned out that this was indeed the Dr. Beakman who runs Shady Lawn. Apparently he's a Mad Doctor--a servant of the Plague Doctor. He apparently wouldn't let anyone leave because he loves performing various experiments.

I hope I didn't catch anything while there.

Anyway, these things are known as Fears. Nightlanders are the moving shadows plaguing me. The Doors lead to the Empty City, an ever-shifting eldritch location. The Black Dog hunts people down for some secret they keep hidden. I suppose my adventure as a boy may have made me feel guilty, knowing it was my fault, so I pretended it never happened. That could be why I'm a target there. The man who took my memories is known as the Blind Man. The Plague Doctor is all about spreading disease, which is why a single glance made my OCD skyrocket. The Convocation is made up of birds which can nest inside their servants. One such "Nest" is the man I found in the City. It is this "Nest" state which the Faceless Bastard was apparently referring to awhile back in his weird comment on "Here at Shady Lawn." In fact, his comment implies that he's...

Oh, dear God.

Many pages also lead to blogs, which I will read sometime.

There are many other Fears, it turns out, and I'm lucky not to have run into all of them. The ones I have are too much; I can't take it. Others include EAT (some watery thing), the Wooden Girl (who, it seems, controls people like puppets), the Cold Boy (who freezes people who are lonely; looks like I dodged a bullet there), the Unnamed Child (who ruins people's lives), and the Grotesque (who has something to do with dreams).

This all so insane. If so many have seen these creatures how come they're not common knowledge? Shouldn't the government be doing something about this? Instead, it's just confined to some blogs, it seems.

Finished Ontological

I finally finished that blog I mentioned before, Ontological. It was interesting, and I could relate to some of the things that happened, but the way it ended...

The guy turned out to have been a "Nightlander" (living shadow) the whole time or something.

It was like one of those twist endings that are always in movies and Twilight Zone episodes, making me wonder if this story was actually fictional. However, the references to moving shadows, appearing Doors, and impossible cities makes me think it was at least partially based on reality.

I don't know.

I thought about what happened to me at Shady Lawn and during the escape. And the way I was so willing to sneak around the place to find an exit. That sounds like the old me, before I lost everything; before I lost my family, my courage, my childhood. I don't know what's happening to me, but I think it could be something good. Maybe.

Continuing the Story

That time stamp. What? It says my last post went up like two minutes after the previous one, even though my time in the electroshock room was at least 20 minutes, including the time it took to be brought in. And the City...I was in there for at least a day.

Time...what is time? It makes no sense now...

Anyway, after I entered the Door I found myself on top of a building. I nearly died by stepping off the edge by mistake. In fact, I did step off the edge. I just happened to suddenly find myself in a stagnant swimming pool in the backyard of a worn-down, abandoned house.

Spitting leaves from my mouth, I climbed out and looked around. No birds. No bugs. No people. Nothing. Nothing at all.

I decided to check out the house. It was boarded up, so I had a time of tearing some of them free from the back door. Inside were just piles of dust. No furniture. No signs at all that anyone had ever lived there. I slept awhile. Exhaustion makes you accept any bed you're offered.

When I awoke, the Voice returned. "Go back into the water. It's the only way you can ever find your way out."

I was puzzled, but this Voice had been right before, so I went outside and dived back in.

And I dived in. And I dived in. And I dived in. I thought I would be stuck like this forever. Was this some kind of purgatory?

At last I found myself running down a long street between two high buildings. When I reached the halfway point, I found myself face to face with someone I hadn't seen until I was almost upon him.

He stared me in the eyes, but seemed not to be addressing me. "The Bright Ones will not be pleased!" he cried. "The Bright Ones will NOT BE PLEASED!!!"

Then, before I could say anything, he took out a knife and drew it across his neck.

I winced. "No!" I wanted to shout, but it stuck in my throat.

His head flopped backward, the cut having been deep enough that he was almost decapitated. He fell backward to the ground, motionless. Curiously, there was no blood from the wound.

I felt sick to my stomach as his skin began to writhe in unnatural undulating movements. A beak poked out of the hole. Then some feathers. Soon, an entire bird, some kind of large crow, emerged, followed quickly by dozens of others.

I was frozen in shock. This unimaginable gathering of birds had just flown out of a dead man's body, like Pegasus from Medusa. As they flew, a dark cloud without rain moving over the city, they screeched so loud I had to plug my ears with my fingers as deep as they would go.

I had pushed too far in. My ears began to bleed. As I recovered my bearings and turned to finish the journey down this dismal road, I saw that it was now a dead end where before it had been open.

"Follow the birds," said a familiar voice. It was mine. I was standing there before me. But the other me had dirty, damaged clothes.

"Follow the birds," he (I) said again, this time more sternly. "Hurry!"

Trusting that myself was a worthy guide, I did as I was told and followed the birds. They had gone over one of the buildings, but there was a door that I was able to enter. I ran through the empty building to the other side, where a wall had been knocked down.

From there I was able to follow the screeching birds (fortunately they were far enough away that their shrieks did not cause pain, yet close enough to see) through the streets for awhile. I think I could see flashes of lightning from time to time. After what seemed like hours, and being close to losing sight of the winged monstrosities, I saw another Door. I opened it and stepped through.

I was in an elevator which seemed to be racing to the top of some skyscraper, the cables whining under the strain. Then, the elevator froze.

Before I knew what was happening, it began to plummet back down in a free fall. I knew then that I was going to die. However, in the free fall, I was weightless, like floating in space. A Door appeared in the middle of the ceiling, where the hatch would be. I reached upward and grabbed the knob. I turned it, opened it, and pushed myself through. As the Door closed behind under me, I could hear the tremendous crash that I had barely escaped.

I found myself in the middle of a sidewalk, with the birds in sight again. I continued following them until a rather tall Door stood before me and the birds. I went through after them, but when I emerged I was in my bedroom again, the birds nowhere around.

After cleaning myself up and trying to process what had happened, I wrote down the previous post.

That electroshock doohickey was something else, though. My head's better now, but that feeling sure lasted awhile. I hope there's no permanent damage.

Incredible

Oh, my head...

Well, I'm free. Somehow.

Okay, I know how. I just can't believe it. Dr. Beakman didn't like the fact that I'd only been pretending to take my meds. And that I knew the things that he insisted weren't real indeed were. And the fact that I was trying to escape.

So, he and some assistants took me into a back room and strapped me onto a table. From there, they proceeded to put something on my head. They shoved something into my mouth and made me bite down on it. They then began giving me intense electroshock therapy.

It hurt worse than you could ever imagine. And there was nothing I could do. I knew this bastard was going to kill me.

Then the room went dark.

I heard some yelling and saw some swiftly moving specks of light. It was the Shadow People. They were apparently protecting me for some reason. I felt my wrists and ankles freed and my adrenaline was pumping. I tore the headgear off and ran. But a Door appeared in my path.

Stopping, I turned around.

I saw some flashing bands of light and the room returned to normal. The Shadows had failed--they were contained.

"Thank God for the Archive," said Beakman.

He and the others turned toward me.

"Your little friend is an agent of the Archive. He told us everything."

I ran to the door, but it was locked. I knew it was foolish. I knew I could be lost forever, like that family I read about before, but it was my only option. It was my only possible means of escape.

I went through the Door.

My headache is getting worse again. I'll continue this story later.

Strange Post

Wow. I have no idea what they did to me there. It must have been some extra strong drugs or something. They've worn off now, though.

I'll tell about what I did last night. I was sneaking around like I said I would. I crept down the hallway and hid around the corner so anyone at the front desk wouldn't see me.

As I watched, someone approached the woman sitting there. He said, "I'm looking for the Holder of Light." The woman surprisingly readily stood up and led him away out of view. I didn't understand what was going on, but I was grateful for the opportunity to explore further without getting caught.

There were guards stationed outside every entrance I came across. They were big, strong men with even bigger guns. It looked like I wasn't going to be able to escape. Obviously this place isn't on the up-and-up. What kind of mental institution has people that'll likely kill you if you try to leave, especially people like me who are here voluntarily?


I scoped out the fire exit down one hallway. It was dark though, like the lights had burnt out. I didn't reach the door--I was too afraid. I swear I saw red eyes staring at me from the darkness. I retraced my steps.


That's when I was caught and taken back to my room. On the way, I heard a loud scream as though someone were going through unspeakable torment.

At some point they must have drugged me to make me more docile and cooperative.