Thanks for the help everybody. I love how many comments I got-OH WAIT. Yeah, you guys are about as helpful as a sackful of Atari Jaguars. Hell, the Jaguars could at least be used to hit proxies with! Sigh. Sorry, you didn't deserve that. It's just...frustrating.
I'm kept up my running, though to where I again cannot type. I've had time to think, about the whole situation. And before anyone comments about said decision, I think I made the right one. I'd still rather die for my morals than live by abandoning them, weird I know. Still, I've kept my researching up. I really hope I'm not in the FEAR universe. Fuck me, if that's what I've got to face me and Annex should just slit our wrists now. But I've been reading other stuff now, and more theories are forming. I'll post again when something happens.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Log 6/5/12
Let's hope this actually gets posted. For those readers wondering, I have been trying to post almost every day for weeks, and none of them have gone through. That post "Running"? Not posted by me, probably posted by a proxy. So here's what has been going on.
After my last post, I got home one day, and found a sticky note on my door. It said, "We are coming. Run." It looked like the same hand-writing as that CCV guy. I grabbed some essentials (my laptop, wallet, keys, you know), and did so. I went over to a friends house, and called my apartment. One of my roommates said that some guy in a tank-top had been walking around the outside of our apartment for a few hours. I went to my laptop and tried to post, and the post was pretty much the preceding paragraph. It didn't post, and I got a call from my roommate. Apparently that guy got a call on his cell, didn't say a word, and when it was over he booked it out of the complex. I quickly put two and two together. Not only were they somehow stopping me from posting, but I'd revealed my location to them through that. So I thanked my friend and left.
I've been going from house to house since, though I won't say where for obvious reasons. I've seen the proxy in the wife-beater several times, usually carrying his bat with him. I don't have anything to defend myself with, so I've been hiding as best I can. It seems I got their attention after all. Any ideas?
After my last post, I got home one day, and found a sticky note on my door. It said, "We are coming. Run." It looked like the same hand-writing as that CCV guy. I grabbed some essentials (my laptop, wallet, keys, you know), and did so. I went over to a friends house, and called my apartment. One of my roommates said that some guy in a tank-top had been walking around the outside of our apartment for a few hours. I went to my laptop and tried to post, and the post was pretty much the preceding paragraph. It didn't post, and I got a call from my roommate. Apparently that guy got a call on his cell, didn't say a word, and when it was over he booked it out of the complex. I quickly put two and two together. Not only were they somehow stopping me from posting, but I'd revealed my location to them through that. So I thanked my friend and left.
I've been going from house to house since, though I won't say where for obvious reasons. I've seen the proxy in the wife-beater several times, usually carrying his bat with him. I don't have anything to defend myself with, so I've been hiding as best I can. It seems I got their attention after all. Any ideas?
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
Log 5/7/12
Well, you'd think after getting offered that deal, put in the hospital, getting a note about said deal, and finally me turning down the deal, something would happen. Nope. I haven't seen hide nor tail of anything odd since that note I talked about last week. I'll post if something happens, which it will. If my troper senses aren't wrong, this is just the calm before the storm.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Log 5/4/12
Alright, to everyone reading this (including CCV, whoever the flying fuck you are), I have made my decision. I will not back down. I will continue to search for my friend, Annex. And nothing any one of you proxy assholes say will stop me. If you still want to stop me, bring it on.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Log 5/1/12
So, I wake up this morning, stare at the alarm clock menacingly while daring it to go off, find my underwear and shorts, put on a shirt, then go to head out to the living room only to find a surprise. My door is closed, and it has a note taped to it. It said:
"To Mr. Hankins,
Please make up your mind about that offer I made to you soon. By 'soon,' I mean within the week. Just post your answer on that little blog of yours. I can't keep the rabid dogs tied up forever boy.
CCV"
Dude gave me a gorram time limit. I still have no clue what I'm going to do. Advice would be great. A strategy guide for my life would be even better. I'll post my decision on Friday.
"To Mr. Hankins,
Please make up your mind about that offer I made to you soon. By 'soon,' I mean within the week. Just post your answer on that little blog of yours. I can't keep the rabid dogs tied up forever boy.
CCV"
Dude gave me a gorram time limit. I still have no clue what I'm going to do. Advice would be great. A strategy guide for my life would be even better. I'll post my decision on Friday.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Log 4/30/12
Yeah, so it has been...two weeks since I last posted? Well listen to a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down and I'd like to take a minute just sit right there I'll tell you the story of how I lost a week and a half of my life!
So the day after my previous post I walked back to the graveyard. I had gotten some kind of result before, so trying it again seemed like the best move. Now, I think I mentioned before that I've been putting that symbol everywhere I could, and this includes using sticky notes with it drawn on in pen to post in on my scary excursions. When I returned to the graveyard, I didn't see anyone, but I did get a reaction. My note had been drawn on with a sharpy. They used the symbol as an "O" in "STOP." I usually carry a pen with me, so I wrote on the note "Bring it on motherfucker." Now, you're probably reading this thinking, "Wow Roy, you've always had the suicidal impulse to taunt Cthulhu, but this? Really? You're not being cool, you're being a goddamn idiot!" That is all true. If I'd been thinking clearly I probably wouldn't have written anything at all. But try to see it from my side: I've spent the last several months trying to find my best friend in the world, who I've known for ten years of my life, and who's stuck with me through thick and thin. And now I've found a message written by someone who is helping that tall piece of shit keep him away from me. I was beyond angry. How dare they pull this bullshit? How dare they not only screw with my friend, but with hundreds if not thousands of people across the world; killing, infecting, or 'persuading' all who stumble across them? I wrote my response in a fury, and while I'll be the first to admit it wasn't a smart idea, it felt right at the time.
So the next day I walk back to the graveyard carrying my driver. You know, the golf club? Shut the fuck up it's the closest thing I have to a weapon! So anyway, I walk up to the note sticking to the ground. I see there's nothing written in response to my response, so I yell out, "Where are you, you proxy son of bitch? I thought we were gonna fight or something?!" (Again, that was a terrible idea. I have an anger problem, so sue me.) Then I hear something. The sound of shoes crunching leaves as they fast-walked to me. I turn around, and see someone. The guy was a couple inches shorter than me, about average height or a little under. He was fucking ripped though. Seriously, he had largest biceps I have ever seen with my own two eyes. He was wearing a wife-beater (Does that make me his wife? HONEY STOP HURTING ME!) and jeans. I didn't get a look at his face, and guess why. That's right! He had a mask! Really though, it was the laziest mask I have ever seen. It was like a paper-mache face shaped half-circle with two dots for eyes and a neutral mouth. How much does Slendy pay you guys? Can he not afford a uniform? Really, you guys would be way more intimidating if you had a standardized uniform. Nothing too fancy. At least have some sense of consistency! Moving on. After chuckling a bit at the silly cheap mask, it hit me. I mean that both metaphorically and literally. Metaphorically I realized that what he had in his hands was an aluminum baseball bat, while literally it was slammed into by stomach. Have you ever had the wind knocked out of you? I have. Freshman year some douchebag punched me right in the solar plexus, which was the closest I came to fighting until this hear event I've been describing. It hurt. I couldn't breathe, I had no air in my lungs, and the pain from my abdomen was staggering. The same thing being done with a bat is, well, excruciating. I mean it. So I collapse to the ground, grabbing my stomach as I struggle to get some gorram oxygen. Then I see another person. All I saw was his shoes and pants. The shoes were black, expensive, and polished to a shine. I felt kinda bad that he had to walk and dirt and leaves with such nice shoes on. His pants were dress slacks, and while not as nice as his shoes, was still much better than any clothes I've ever worn. Then he spoke. He said, "Please stay out of our affairs. Your friend is gone, and if you do not stop being a nuicance, my friend hear will be back, but this time with a gun. Learn your lesson kid and stay away." The voice was deep, and it sounded like you favorite uncle chastising you for breaking a vase. (That is not me admitting guilt to broken pottery belonging to a relative. You're silly.) Then I saw out of my periferal vision the bat swinging down onto my head.
I woke up yesterday in the local Chico hospital. My parents and sister were there, along with some of my friends. Apparently I suffered a concussion and internal bleeding. I was lucky that I got to the ER so fast, because if I hadn't I would have likely died. They got to me quite quickly, because they got an anonymous call as to my location and injury less than a minute after I lost consciousness. I'm back at school now, typing this up at the library. (No, the laptop is still broken. I should be fixed in about a week.) I'm still mulling over the offer. It seems like they'll leave me alone if I stop, especially because they easily could have killed me but saved me instead. I could live a normal life and get my degree in Astronomy, and move to New York City to work with my idol Neil DeGrasse Tyson. But if I do that, Annex will be all alone. I have to think about this more. Bye.
So the day after my previous post I walked back to the graveyard. I had gotten some kind of result before, so trying it again seemed like the best move. Now, I think I mentioned before that I've been putting that symbol everywhere I could, and this includes using sticky notes with it drawn on in pen to post in on my scary excursions. When I returned to the graveyard, I didn't see anyone, but I did get a reaction. My note had been drawn on with a sharpy. They used the symbol as an "O" in "STOP." I usually carry a pen with me, so I wrote on the note "Bring it on motherfucker." Now, you're probably reading this thinking, "Wow Roy, you've always had the suicidal impulse to taunt Cthulhu, but this? Really? You're not being cool, you're being a goddamn idiot!" That is all true. If I'd been thinking clearly I probably wouldn't have written anything at all. But try to see it from my side: I've spent the last several months trying to find my best friend in the world, who I've known for ten years of my life, and who's stuck with me through thick and thin. And now I've found a message written by someone who is helping that tall piece of shit keep him away from me. I was beyond angry. How dare they pull this bullshit? How dare they not only screw with my friend, but with hundreds if not thousands of people across the world; killing, infecting, or 'persuading' all who stumble across them? I wrote my response in a fury, and while I'll be the first to admit it wasn't a smart idea, it felt right at the time.
So the next day I walk back to the graveyard carrying my driver. You know, the golf club? Shut the fuck up it's the closest thing I have to a weapon! So anyway, I walk up to the note sticking to the ground. I see there's nothing written in response to my response, so I yell out, "Where are you, you proxy son of bitch? I thought we were gonna fight or something?!" (Again, that was a terrible idea. I have an anger problem, so sue me.) Then I hear something. The sound of shoes crunching leaves as they fast-walked to me. I turn around, and see someone. The guy was a couple inches shorter than me, about average height or a little under. He was fucking ripped though. Seriously, he had largest biceps I have ever seen with my own two eyes. He was wearing a wife-beater (Does that make me his wife? HONEY STOP HURTING ME!) and jeans. I didn't get a look at his face, and guess why. That's right! He had a mask! Really though, it was the laziest mask I have ever seen. It was like a paper-mache face shaped half-circle with two dots for eyes and a neutral mouth. How much does Slendy pay you guys? Can he not afford a uniform? Really, you guys would be way more intimidating if you had a standardized uniform. Nothing too fancy. At least have some sense of consistency! Moving on. After chuckling a bit at the silly cheap mask, it hit me. I mean that both metaphorically and literally. Metaphorically I realized that what he had in his hands was an aluminum baseball bat, while literally it was slammed into by stomach. Have you ever had the wind knocked out of you? I have. Freshman year some douchebag punched me right in the solar plexus, which was the closest I came to fighting until this hear event I've been describing. It hurt. I couldn't breathe, I had no air in my lungs, and the pain from my abdomen was staggering. The same thing being done with a bat is, well, excruciating. I mean it. So I collapse to the ground, grabbing my stomach as I struggle to get some gorram oxygen. Then I see another person. All I saw was his shoes and pants. The shoes were black, expensive, and polished to a shine. I felt kinda bad that he had to walk and dirt and leaves with such nice shoes on. His pants were dress slacks, and while not as nice as his shoes, was still much better than any clothes I've ever worn. Then he spoke. He said, "Please stay out of our affairs. Your friend is gone, and if you do not stop being a nuicance, my friend hear will be back, but this time with a gun. Learn your lesson kid and stay away." The voice was deep, and it sounded like you favorite uncle chastising you for breaking a vase. (That is not me admitting guilt to broken pottery belonging to a relative. You're silly.) Then I saw out of my periferal vision the bat swinging down onto my head.
I woke up yesterday in the local Chico hospital. My parents and sister were there, along with some of my friends. Apparently I suffered a concussion and internal bleeding. I was lucky that I got to the ER so fast, because if I hadn't I would have likely died. They got to me quite quickly, because they got an anonymous call as to my location and injury less than a minute after I lost consciousness. I'm back at school now, typing this up at the library. (No, the laptop is still broken. I should be fixed in about a week.) I'm still mulling over the offer. It seems like they'll leave me alone if I stop, especially because they easily could have killed me but saved me instead. I could live a normal life and get my degree in Astronomy, and move to New York City to work with my idol Neil DeGrasse Tyson. But if I do that, Annex will be all alone. I have to think about this more. Bye.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Update
Yeah, my laptop's been busted for 2 weeks now, and will remain so for anywhere between 3 to 5 days. Doesn't mean I have been idle though! I've gone to local parks and graveyards...a lot. All at night. Up until last night, I had pretty much nothing happen.
Last night I was at a graveyard that's about a 30min walk from my apartment. I'd been there once before, but this time was different. It felt...odd. Every leaf falling sounded like footsteps behind me, and when there was motion of any kind a wheeled around, thinking someone was following me. I've got no concrete evidence, just a feeling, but I don't think I was alone. Maybe I'm starting to get a result...
...or the paranoia of not seeing your best friend in months and seeking out an unholy abomination to try and find him is getting to me. Oh well.
Last night I was at a graveyard that's about a 30min walk from my apartment. I'd been there once before, but this time was different. It felt...odd. Every leaf falling sounded like footsteps behind me, and when there was motion of any kind a wheeled around, thinking someone was following me. I've got no concrete evidence, just a feeling, but I don't think I was alone. Maybe I'm starting to get a result...
...or the paranoia of not seeing your best friend in months and seeking out an unholy abomination to try and find him is getting to me. Oh well.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Fission Mailed
So here's how the plan is going. Step 1 has not given me anything. No Slenderman. No proxies. No Rake. Nothing. Step 2 has barely started. I walked down to the local park at around sundown. I waited around for a while, kept my eyes open, but nothing happened. I'm going to film these excursions for two reasons: 1)I do not own a video camera; 2)Even if I did I'm a shitty cameraman. Even if something weird did happen, you wouldn't be able to tell because the camera would be aimed at my foot or something. Don't worry though, I have a secret weapon. I'll post about it either tomorrow or Saturday.
Step 3...hasn't really started. Yeah, I kinda forgot an important fact. I don't know any proxy blogs. Seriously, can anyone point me to a blog or vlog run by a proxy? I need to talk with them. Seriously, even the lowest of the low on the food chain will do. See you guys soon. I hope.
Step 3...hasn't really started. Yeah, I kinda forgot an important fact. I don't know any proxy blogs. Seriously, can anyone point me to a blog or vlog run by a proxy? I need to talk with them. Seriously, even the lowest of the low on the food chain will do. See you guys soon. I hope.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
The Plan
I saw the videos that got reposted. I don't know how much longer Annex can survive without assistance. So here's my plan to get stalked.
Step 1: Draw the Symbol on everything I can. I've already scribbled it on my notebook and other things like that. Hopefully the overuse of his symbol will draw him to me.
Step 2: Walk around some creepy places during both day and night. Especially heavily wooded ones, which is easy to do because Chico is full of trees.
Step 3: Go to blogs of proxies and taunt them, trying to make them send there master after me.
And from there...I have no clue. It's a short plan, but it can be expanded. Oh, and please don't post warning that this idea is horrible and that I'll probably die. Everyone knows that everybody dies, but I'd rather die young helping my friend than live on with that regret.
Step 1: Draw the Symbol on everything I can. I've already scribbled it on my notebook and other things like that. Hopefully the overuse of his symbol will draw him to me.
Step 2: Walk around some creepy places during both day and night. Especially heavily wooded ones, which is easy to do because Chico is full of trees.
Step 3: Go to blogs of proxies and taunt them, trying to make them send there master after me.
And from there...I have no clue. It's a short plan, but it can be expanded. Oh, and please don't post warning that this idea is horrible and that I'll probably die. Everyone knows that everybody dies, but I'd rather die young helping my friend than live on with that regret.
WAIT WHAT!?
Okay, so if you don't know Annex just posted that he just remembered me, is trying to contact me, but can't! What is going on!? He also mentioned that one of my calls actually got through, but it was just static. I'm working on a number of theories, but I'll just post the one in the front of my brain at the moment. It could be that when someone gets stalked by the Tall Dude, they are sent to an alternate dimension. The only differences between the dimensions is that the people who could help the stalked most are either never born or just gone in that universe. This leaves him in a world without me and me in one without him. I know it sounds silly and sci-fi, and it is, but we're dealing with people being stalked by a 10ft-tall, faceless, teleporting, time-altering, fire-starting, eldritch abomination. I don't think that in this situation my theory is all that far-fetched. Of course the much simpler theory is that Slendy and the Proxies (What a great name for a band!) are keeping us apart on purpose. But why? It doesn't make sense, what could I do to stop the unstoppable? Nothing, that's what. So, if my crazy theory is correct, there's really only one course left to me. I must force myself into being stalked by the Slenderman. This is going to be quite the ordeal, but at least it's better than sitting on my ass and not doing anything. I'll post again soon. Don't worry Annex, I am coming.
No real news
The only class of Annex's that I know he has is his Italian class. I've been staying as late as I can by the parking lot on Tuesdays and Thursdays waiting for him to show. So far, no luck. I also saw his new post. What does that mean? Why is his camera not working? Is it really not working, or is the footage so slender-staticed that he can't see anything and is assuming the camera is at fault? Is he being stalked by the Tall Mother-Fucker or aTp? There are so many questions and so few answers. I'm going to take my webcam with me on Tuesday, and I'll try to upload any footage I get onto YouTube. I don't know if it will be any help, but if there's one thing I've learned from all this slender-shit, it's that random people of Unfiction are much better at figuring out mysteries than I am. I'll try to post more regularly.
PS: I hate it when blogs post that they should post more. Either do it or don't acknowledge it. It's not something where you can cleverly admit to earn points. If admitted at all it should be in shame and sadness, as I do on this day. Sooooo....yeah.
PS: I hate it when blogs post that they should post more. Either do it or don't acknowledge it. It's not something where you can cleverly admit to earn points. If admitted at all it should be in shame and sadness, as I do on this day. Sooooo....yeah.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Status Report and WTF
Status Report-The other day I walked over to Annex's house. (Very long walk, good for me in health but horrible in moral.) He lives with his brother and his brother's wife and kids. I knocked at the door and asked if Annex was home. (I obviously didn't say Annex, but I refuse to tell you guys his real name. Unless you guess it. Because I'm a terrible liar.) His brother said that he's moved out in January, and hadn't heard from him since. He answered kinda coldly, so I don't know what to think about the response.
Either: 1. He decided to leave to protect his family, and then got Slendernesia.
2. He told his brother to tell me that if I showed up asking questions.
I've been ruminating recently on why Annex is avoiding me. He obviously has Slendernesia, so he can't still be trying to protect me. Did the memory fuck-up make him distrust me? Did it plant memories of us falling out over something, and he's trying to give me the cold shoulder? Did it remove all memories of me entirely, and now he thinks I'm just some creeper online spying on him? If I was removed from his memories, then how is he still somewhat stable? I've been a part of his life for 9 years now. If you just cut me out of his memories, would what is left make any amount of sense? Ugh, this is frustrating in how in makes no goddamn sense! This is why living in a somewhat fantasy-based universe sucks people: logic becomes useless. I'm not giving up though, I have a plan I want to set in motion.
WTF-His newest post. Who the flying fuck is aTp? What does that stand for? Why is he hijacking the blog again? Could it stand for 'a Terrible person'? I don't know if that works, because why would the p be lowercase? Why would the p ever be lowercase in such an acronym? Sigh. Alright, back to the investigation.
Either: 1. He decided to leave to protect his family, and then got Slendernesia.
2. He told his brother to tell me that if I showed up asking questions.
I've been ruminating recently on why Annex is avoiding me. He obviously has Slendernesia, so he can't still be trying to protect me. Did the memory fuck-up make him distrust me? Did it plant memories of us falling out over something, and he's trying to give me the cold shoulder? Did it remove all memories of me entirely, and now he thinks I'm just some creeper online spying on him? If I was removed from his memories, then how is he still somewhat stable? I've been a part of his life for 9 years now. If you just cut me out of his memories, would what is left make any amount of sense? Ugh, this is frustrating in how in makes no goddamn sense! This is why living in a somewhat fantasy-based universe sucks people: logic becomes useless. I'm not giving up though, I have a plan I want to set in motion.
WTF-His newest post. Who the flying fuck is aTp? What does that stand for? Why is he hijacking the blog again? Could it stand for 'a Terrible person'? I don't know if that works, because why would the p be lowercase? Why would the p ever be lowercase in such an acronym? Sigh. Alright, back to the investigation.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
An explanation, a FAQ, and a new Beginning
Yeah, so, for those who do not know, this did not happen. Well, it kinda did at the start. I started this blog exactly as it sounds like I did in the first couple posts, with the same purpose. However, when the titular abomination failed to appear, I gave up and kept this going as a story. Personally I consider is a failure, as I had many ideas that were cut short by my bad writing. I have not seen that guy. Yet.
This post will serve as an FAQ on the blog from the beginning to now. If you have a question on where the flying fuck I was going, or what ideas I had but never got down, please comment and I'll answer.
The reason I'm posting again after so long is kinda...complicated. My friend Annex, who I have mentioned on other blogs has started one called Too Tired To Be Afraid. My initial suspicions were correct, and he is being chased by that thing. His problem is not a story, or a joke, but a fact. Over the last several months I have completely lost contact with him, and have not seen him since January. At first he didn't answer his phone, but now he changed the number. He doesn't respond on Skype, and then blocked me. I think he's trying to protect me. Fuck that. I want to help him however I can. Now he's changed it from blog to vlog, and from how he acts it seems like he is missing parts of his memory. I am going to find him, and when I do I will help him. It is inevitable. We live in the same city, how long can he keep away?
This post will serve as an FAQ on the blog from the beginning to now. If you have a question on where the flying fuck I was going, or what ideas I had but never got down, please comment and I'll answer.
The reason I'm posting again after so long is kinda...complicated. My friend Annex, who I have mentioned on other blogs has started one called Too Tired To Be Afraid. My initial suspicions were correct, and he is being chased by that thing. His problem is not a story, or a joke, but a fact. Over the last several months I have completely lost contact with him, and have not seen him since January. At first he didn't answer his phone, but now he changed the number. He doesn't respond on Skype, and then blocked me. I think he's trying to protect me. Fuck that. I want to help him however I can. Now he's changed it from blog to vlog, and from how he acts it seems like he is missing parts of his memory. I am going to find him, and when I do I will help him. It is inevitable. We live in the same city, how long can he keep away?
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