Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Promised Update

Right, full update time. Soren and I reached Salt Lake a few days ago, and we’ve been somewhat busy. We were out scouting for some info. Apparently, a few days ago, a planter outside of the Salt Lake Temple had been tagged with the Twin Triangles, with the phrase: “embrace the archangel” written underneath. While this wasn’t exactly all that helpful, it meant that HE was in town, and either he wasn’t focused on us at all, or he was sending a message.

Could be both.

Anyways, we went through a parking garage for a shortcut.



Anyways, we were walking along and then BAM some guy with a shotgun was in front of us. He was like: “Don’t move, and follow me.”

So we did.

I mean, guy with a shotgun. Watcha gonna do?

We were walking along, then the guy (who was probably on drugs or something) stopped to stare out the window for a moment. It was all the opening I needed. I flipped out my balisong and had it around his neck in a moment.

Damn, I’m good.

I put on my best hard voice and told him to drop the shotgun. He responded by trying to elbow me, which had the unfortunate effect of jerking my hand and severing an artery.

That doesn’t count, he jerked my hand, ‘kay?

So he kinda collapsed in a welter of blood, and I thought, “Hmm, dead guy sitting here. I should probably run.” So we did. Luckily, both of us were wearing black, and it was raining outside, so we didn’t really stand out.

We didn’t get too far before spotting another wacko. Luckily, he didn’t see us, so we kind of scooted around him. Then we were ambushed by another one of them. Jumped out of nowhere with a freaking machete that was like the size of Finland and took a slash at us. We sort of backed up, then a bystander yanked a pistol out and shot the guy.

Thank God for concealed carry permits.

Soren then played the tough guy and went right up to the downed cultist guy and started asking him all sorts of questions. Eventually, we discovered that they had a few cells spread throughout the city, and all of them keep watch for people running from HIM. Which will probably be problematic sometime.

We then started back to where we were staying, then Soren got hit in the arm by a fairly low caliber bullet. Sniper on the roof was gunning for us. We had to run, but managed to escape without further incident. Cops nabbed the guy too, apparently. Now, though, we had to visit a doctor I knew that could do stuff off the record, so Soren will be okay.

Stay safe, everyone.

Saturday, November 26, 2011


Arrived in Salt Lake two days ago, but I've been somewhat too busy to post. I'll do a full update later.

Just know, for now, that the cults are real as hell. They are also batshit insane and incredibly zealous, oviously.

Monday, November 21, 2011


Finally got a First Gear in TWEWY!

What? Don't look at me that way. I can do something entertaining every once in awhile, right?

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Switch car

Apparently the Slenderproxies have contacts in the police. As we left the park, we got pulled over immediately, then the guy tried to arrest us. Soren noticed a mark on his arm, though, and knocked him out. We’ll need to switch cars, now.

I think they’re just doing it to screw with us. Nobody who’s serious about that would tattoo the fucking Operator symbol on their arm if they wanted to remain inconspicuous.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011


We made it down into the canyon today. Took long enough.

Anyways, we couldn’t go too far inside, so we met at the visitors’ center. It was kind of a big building, with a lot of kids running around everywhere. School trip, I guess? I asked Soren who we were waiting for, but he just said to keep a look out.


We waited for about 15 minutes, and out of the corner of my eye I spotted what appeared to be a fellow in a plague doctor getup. I don’t know who that is (knowing my luck, the fear of disease. I need to do more research), but he looked somewhat suspect. I’m keeping an eye on him.

I was then distracted by our contact, a native American guy wearing a flannel shirt and work boots, with feathers in his hair and a beaded necklace.

Not really, though that would’ve been hilarious.

No, it was a shortish lady with glasses and a longish woolen grey coat. It wasn’t really cold enough to warrant it, but it wasn’t exactly warm either (it gets surprisingly cold down here).

And she was Russian. Did I mention that?

She told us that she had been hounded by HIM for awhile as well, but she’d managed to escape from HIM after a lengthy trip from Moscow to Portland and eventually ending up here. One thing she mentioned were organizations that worship HIM, dubbed “cults” (how original). Apparently these groups are somewhat secretive, usually small, and don’t have too much firepower at one time, but they make up for that with pure zealotry.

Anyways, the whole time that she was talking, she was glancing around nervously, and she went white (well, more so than usual) when she noticed the plague guy. After that, she finished up and left, quickly.

We noticed her reaction and left as well. Things are getting dangerous.

Stay  safe, everyone.

Friday, November 11, 2011


On the move again, kind of. We left the hospital, though I still can't walk (hurts like hell), so we're taking it easy. I'm just glad to be out of the hospital though. I felt way too vulnerable there.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011


Fucking HIM. I knew that when HE vanished for awhile that there would be problems, but I forgot.

Well, HE fixed that notion right up.

We were on our way to St. George, where we were going to make a pit stop before continuing to Zion's Canyon, when, out of the blue, the windshield fractures and I'm hit in the gut by a fucking bullet. I don't remember too much, besides pulling the car over into a shoulder so we weren't hit and killed, and seeing HIM in his fucking hoodie and mask wave at us and just turn and walk the fuck away.


Anyways, we called 911 and got an ambulance out here after about thirty minutes. Most of it was a blur of pain and shock and then I passed out, I guess, because the next thing I know I'm in a hospital room.

I was understandably freaked out, seeing as how right now I'm somewhat crippled and stationary. Nothing stopping HIM from just popping in here and finishing me off.

Then Soren mentioned that HE can't appear in a room with somebody watching (apparently sleeping counts too, because of unconscious hearing or something like that), and he has a pistol to deal with any humans that might bug us.

So, I think I'm going to sleep now. Pain pills are making me drowsy and I'd have to shoot myself if I let my grammar and spelling devolve too far.

Stay safe, everyone.

Monday, November 7, 2011


So, we're on our way to Zion's National Park. Apparently something or someone is there, though Soren's being somewhat tight lipped about it.

We managed to escape Provo without too much trouble, though there was a horrible second when somebody dropped onto the roof as we passed under a bridge. Luckily, though, s/he didn't grab hold quick enough, and we gunned the gas, causing our visitor to slide backwards and off of the car.

So sad. But that's what you get when you work for the Stranger, right?

Thursday, November 3, 2011

An Interesting Few Days

It’s been an interesting last few days.

HE has vanished completely. I haven’t seen him since that night where he got my arm. However, slenderproxies have taken his place, which is arguably worse. While I got one of them good, I’ve been on the run since. I’m just not awesome enough to take on many people at the same time, or even one at a time. Which is why I tend to ambush them. Fair fights are too easy to lose.

But anyways, I mentioned that I was in the park, correct? Funny story about that. I was looking around the web, doing some research on this stuff, when I found somebody who lived around here that was in the same boat as me. He goes by the name of Soren, and he agreed to meet me in the park that night and explain what the hell this all was.

Well, we were in a dark section of trees, keeping our voices low, just in case. HE has a habit of turning up where HE’s least wanted, but luckily he didn’t appear.

Unluckily, a Slenderjunkie did. Short guy, shaved, somewhat buff. He was just striding up the pathway, though he was kinda obvious, seeing as how he had a big fucking Operator Symbol tattooed on his arm. Seriously, what the hell are those? I thought they were supposed to keep the Stranger away or something like that, but all these guys I’ve seen have them drawn everywhere.

(and now a switch to crappily written first person novel form, because I want to let out my inner writer. The following is a somewhat dramatized version [possibly] of what happened, although that was a few days ago. Recalled to the best of my ability)


“So,” I asked, rubbing my chin as I digested what he had just said. “HE is the afterlife?”

“Yeah,” Soren replied, glancing about uneasily. About 6’1”, with silver hair, he seemed to be about a year older than me, though from what he’s said, he’s been running for longer. He also seemed to be anxious in open spaces like this. He hasn’t said why, yet.  “Or, at least, that’s what Steward claimed. He’s a crazy bastard, though. I’m not sure if I’d believe everything he said.”

This Steward, he worked for the Stranger, then? Perhaps he was spreading propaganda against HIM, to get more people to join the Stranger’s side,” I mused. “He seemed to be a, what did you call them… Agent?”

Soren nodded. “That’s what it seemed like,” he confirmed. “Though it’s possible that he only thought he was sane, that gets into mindscrew territory, so we’ll avoid that, for now.”

I was about to ask something else, though what it was, I don’t remember, when I saw somebody walking along the pathway. Instinctively, I drew against the tree next to me, attempting to blend in with its profile. 

It was a short man, shorter than me (I’m about 5’8”), with a bald head and wearing a sleeveless shirt. He was just walking, a little faster than most people walk. He was doing nothing suspicious, but even so...

Something’s off about him… I thought, inspecting him through the glare of the lamps set along the pathway.

Soren caught my attention with a gesture. “He’s marked,” he breathed. “A proxy. Slender." His eyes started darting about, searching for an escape route.

I gritted my teeth. Of course, a Slenderproxy. Who else would show up here, in this curiously empty park? Nobody friendly, of course.

“Just stay quiet and let him go by,” Soren whispered, and then heeded his own advice. I followed as well, quieting my breathing and staying as still as possible. It seemed to have worked, as the man passed us by without looking, and continued along the pathway.

I stayed still a few moments longer, hardly daring to hope that he had passed us by, when, of course, he stopped, glancing back. He turned all the way and started towards us, a frown written on his features.

“Just stay calm, he might not have seen us,” Soren whispered, his voice masked by the rustling of the leaves, which were being gently blown along by a gust of wind.

Maybe he hasn’t seen us… I thought warily. Though for some reason, I think he'll find us, because screw the universe being fair, right? The man, true to form, inspected our stand of trees for a moment.And then his eyes fixed on something. With horror, I realized that it was Soren’s hair. The man’s eyes narrowed and his hand darted for his jacket pocket. Soren’s eyes widened in horror, but luckily for him, I was faster. I lifted the shotgun I had borrowed, aimed, and fired.

No headshots for me, those are just a stupid myth spread by video games. The shot took the man in the chest and blew him backwards, laying him out on the sidewalk in a spray of red fluid.

“Oh shit I just shot him oh holy fuck.” I was babbling, of course. I JUST FUCKING SHOT A DUDE.

Soren, luckily, had a clearer head. “Damnation,” he cursed. “That won’t go unnoticed.” He flicked the safety on the shotgun to the on position, then grabbed me by the arm and started running. I followed as best I could, though I was still somewhat in shock because HOLY SHIT THAT GUY WAS DEAD.

We moved to section of fence and climbed over, leaving us in a darkened yard. The house was empty, luckily for us.

“It’s a quick run from here to my car,” Soren said. “If we can get to it, we can get out of here before the police arrive.”

“But what if more of them show up?” I asked shakily, having finally driven down my shock to a mere buzz.

“Shoot them,” Soren replied, already jogging north. I quickly followed, which meant I had to hop two fences, and once climb a tree to avoid a couple people below us.

Eventually, though, we made it to his car and left as quick as we could.


And right now we’re in an apartment at BYU, though apparently the Stranger knows about where we are, or something of the sort. We’re getting ready to move, now. I’ll update later events in another post.

Stay safe, everyone.