A scotsman with a french name in England

As I approach to London I think that perhaps all the riots are just caused by his presence in the city (or county). Our systems aren’t made to face something like him; whether he’s from other dimension, time, space, or he is simply a old monster which has been watching man kind evolve since the glory of the Roman Empire to the discovery of the west to the days of the dominated Italy, bypassing the renaissance and the English Domination of the world till our days; it doesn’t matter, our minds, our bodies, they aren’t made to support him, whatever he is.

Quick question: Has any of you kill a man? I have, and let me tell you: it was not a nice experience. Last night I was someplace between Elmbridge, Surrey and Richmond, The Greater London Borough. I stopped on a little restaurant to stay the night before arriving at London and got in the back part (which was a little parking lot with space for 4 or 5 automobiles) I had purchased some rum earlier that day so I sat there and started intoxicating myself in order to forget for some hours my situation.

It was a calm night, the only lights were those of the cars passing by to get to Elmbridge or Richmond, there were virtually no sounds and the air was fresh and cold. After an hour of me drinking my precious poison something perturbed the silence. It was a man breathing heavily and saying repeatedly things about orders concerning London. I stayed silent and stared at the parking lot entrance, as I thought: he came in the parking lot. He scanned the place slowly till he saw me, then he stopped and breathed fast and heavy and shouted “Him” he then pulled out a knife and ran towards me screaming bloody murder. I am not an idiot so I pulled out my gun and gave him advice to stop but he wouldn’t listen. I didn’t have the nerve to shoot so he lunged towards me and my gun went out flying in the air. I managed to grab the hand with the knife, after a few seconds it became obvious that keeping a force struggle with him equalled death, so I pushed his arm as hard as I could and have him a kick in the solar plexus to apart him from me. While he tried to get up from the kick I crawled for my gun because of the other one having no rounds in that moment. When the gun was at hands reach he grabbed my leg with one hand and started saying repeatedly “Not going to London! No! Not London!” I pushed his face with my other face but that didn’t help, as I kicked him in the face and tried to get my weapon he tried to stab me in the leg but just managed to cut me. A second strike was coming but a kick in his face saved me again from a stab, just giving me a second, deeper, cut. The adrenaline finally permitted me to give a kick strong enough to get him off my leg and crawl to my gun. Once I had the pistol in my hands I gave him one last advice to stop; he got up and ran towards me relentlessly. I closed my eyes and shot 1, 2, 3 times. The man fell to the ground. 2 bullets had ended his life, one had probably entered the left longue and the other one impacted on the heart or close to it.

I wanted to feel bad, I desired to, I tried to... but I couldn’t after so much shit going on my life, and after that bloody bastard giving me one more wound I just could feel glad because of his death. I sat on and tried to look at my wounds when another git interrupted me: a young man about 1.83 metres with brown hair and a very messy look. He was panting while looking at his surroundings; before he could saw me I draw his attention by cocking my gun.

-Who’s there?- He asked with a very thick Scottish accent

-All right, mate, -I answered- if you don’t want to end up as your partner down there you better explain what did you two wanted from me.

He replied very scared.

-What do you mean? What partner? I don’t understand!

-You take me for a halfwit? You have 5 minutes to explain to me what are you trying then you can leave and take your partner to make a proper disposal of his body.

-I can’t explain it... shoot if you please-he looked down and turned to face me- you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.

-Oh, I’ve seen a lot of things, mate. Go on and try- I replied while taking out a fag from my pocket- So, tell me. Why are you two here?

He made a big sigh and tried to make his mind up, meanwhile I lightened my cigarette and started smoking, after a long silence he started speaking again.

-There is this... monster-immediately I lowered my smoke and gave him all of my attention- which is known as... the slenderman. He has the ability to take control of people and make them –I interrupted him and walker towards him while aiming at him with my gun.

-You better not be joking about this, mate, believe me: that’s one subject that I don’t tolerate lies about.

-Why?-he asked- is he following you too?.

-Yes, he is.

-Did you meet him on the internet?

-More or less.

-What do you mean?

-I saw him as a child-I lowered my weapon and turned around-. I’m Travis.

-Remy

-So tell me, Remy, what is your deal with this bloke from here?

-He is a hallowed, you know, he is under his control.

-He was –I said with a little laugh- and why are you following one?

-I am mostly sure that if I follow one of them they will eventually take me to slenderman.

-And?

-He was going north, but 9 days ago he switched his route and started to head south, to London.

-That’s where I’m going. Curious thing is that he just talked about not going to London. It doesn’t matter anymore. You can stay the night here if you want.

-Thanks... wait!-he started to search for something- where’s the body?

-I don’t know, maybe it just disappeared.

I went back to my original place and sat beside my bottle of rum.

-You want a smoke?

-No thanks; I don’t smoke.

-And how about some rum, mate?

-No thanks, I don’t drink either.

-Well -I opened my bottle of rum- Your life must have been pretty good for you to never have had the need to drown your sorrows in alcohol, mate.

-And how bout you? Since when do you drink?

-Since I was 15.

-And how old are you?

-20.

-Rough times, huh?

-Jackpot.

I gave a huge swig to my rum and then proceeded to speak about more pointless stuff with the Scottish. I woke up at 4 A.M. By that time Remy wasn’t there no more and, luckily, he didn’t steal any of my stuff. London is close now and I should arrive there in an hour at worst.

Any help or data you can provide will be appreciated.

Travis A. Walker.

Love Story

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Remember remember

Remember remember the fifth of novemver
Gunpowder treason and plot
I see no possible reason why the gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot.

Yeah... I don't know if this qualifies as a post, but, when I'm scared, for some reason saying this repeatedly makes me get hand on my cool again. Sorry for the lost of time. By the way: I haven't been able to move all day; it hasn't stop raining since 9 am.

Questions, questions, questions and questions

Damn. I can't sleep, it's like 2 am and I can't stop thinking about that girl. If London falls, has any other city fell? London is the last city in England yet to fall? does that mean that he doesn't have any power there, or that he's weaker? Any other city hasn't fell yet? London is the only one that's going to fell and when it does everything will fo down with it? How can I stop him? Did she sent anyone else to do the job? He will be unstoppable in London, in England, or in the world?.
Bollocks, my head is going to explode.

Hallowed out

Hello there, mates. How have you been? I hope that fine; in the other side: I’ve had the worst of experiences so far in my run. I have been hallowed, moved, possessed, however you called it. How? I’ll tell you.

I was in New Forest, Hampshire almost to get to East Dorsen, ... Dorset, duh. So, along the highway I stopped to eat some coffee beans, then I saw it: a creepy looking cabin not so inside the woods with a operator symbol on it. I thought that there could be people who could help me or at least some food or money left behind them so I got down of my bike and walker towards the cabin, examining carefully each single tree I saw along the way.

Everything smelled rotten and inside there was little to nothing: An old TV, a rotten couch, some chips bags and soda cans and a little corridor that lead to another room. I walked slowly to the next room, carefully aiming my rifle to every single thing that looked like a person or a humanoid. In the other room there were just 3 things: A black shirt on the floor, a set of those Russian matryoshka dolls (which I took with me) and a guitar, A GUITAR. I fucking love playing music, back in my house I had a piano, a guitar, a saxophone, a flute, a bass, a drum set, a violin, a ocarina etc. So I sat there and started tuning the little black babe. I don’t know how much I spent playing the guitar; I guess that it was an hour because I played 17 or 16 songs. By the time I was done the sun was going down, so I got up and slowly walked out of there.

He was at the door, waiting for me. He slowly walked towards my as I panicked and shot at him: again, the bullets caused him no harm whatsoever I didn’t had time to reload so I made the most stupid decision in the history of mankind: I pulled out my sword, started to silently cry in fear as I reckoned my own death and ran towards him sword in hand. I was going to hit him with the blade but then blacked out.

I must have been under his control for almost 5 or 6 hours. When I woke up I immediately crashed my bike (which is obvious I was driving while controlled by him) and fucked up my face with the ground. Before I could even notice the blood going down my forehead my body got all fucked and I started throwing up for a while. When I was done I looked myself in my bikes mirror and I looked even paler than normal almos as white as a sheet and my forehead’s right side was bleeding pretty badly although it didn’t hurt because I couldn’t feel much of anything. I was driving west at an incredible fast speed. Apparently I am a better driver when I am being control by a unnatural force of infinite evil, because if I dared to drive at 180 kilometres in the night with rain... man I’d be good as dead.

So now I’m heading to London, as I said in my past post, because a little girl expects me to get Slenderman out of London. I doubt I can do something against him but there is a real reason to go to London: A few decades ago London was the capital of the world and therefore capital of knowledge. Back in WWII and going as back as to America’s discovery England was the king of the world, London was the capital of the world. If there’s a place where information of slenderman can be found, that’s London. The greater London is big, really big, I mean: it’s the biggest city in all of Europe; It’ll take time to go through all of the library’s in the county but it’s not like I had something better to do right now.

Any help or data you can provide, mates, will be appreciated.

If London falls he will be unstoppable? Isn't he already?

Damn. I have been hallowed out, as people call it. I'll tell you about it later or tomorrow but into subject now: I had this weird lucid dream where a little blonde girl came to me and told me a bunch of things I can easily understand but at the same I can't. So... I was in this infinitely dark space and then this little cute girl came to me and said with a american accent:
-You're the one with the doll, right?- she asked with a really happy voice.
-What doll?... who are you?... wait! is this a dream?
She giggled and said- of course!, I can't speak to you in any other way from the other side, silly.
-The other side?... good; first I get possessed and then I have dreams like if I had smoked pot.
Then there was a silence that felt almost eternal.
-You saw him for the first time as a kid, right?
-Who? the... slenderman?
-The boogeyman! -she shouted very angry- he is out to get you and you don't even know about him!
-What? is he like... a monster?
-Yes, mister -she turned around and gave me the bck- he took me when I was 9... and my parents too... -she said it very slowly and started to cry a little.
-Look... I am sorry, I didn't know... could you excuse me?
She immediately got all happy and said: -That's okay mister! With the years i've learned to fight it.
-You have learned... with the years? How much time has been since... well... that happened.
-I don't know what year you are on mister, also, I don't remember it very well. I remember that there was a really evil mister in the papers all the time named Hitler.
I didn't know how she would react to the fact that it has been almost 80 years since then
-Oh... it hasn't been so long since then... Hitler was beaten by the good guys 5 years ago.
-Oh! I'm glad!
-So... why are you here?
-Why? Do you not like me?
-It is just that you don't come from the other side to chat with an english boy just because he is handsome... right?
-Oh yeah! You have to go to London!
-... um... why?
-Because it has to be saved!
-Saved? wait... by me?! you expect me to save something?!
-By anyone! London has to be saved from him!
-Hitler?
-The boogeyman! Do you ever pay any attention?
-I guess not.
-Anyways, mister, you have to stop him, if London falls he will be unstoppable.
-I don't think I can do much.
-Well then find somebody who can!!.
-Fine! Fine! I'll do it.
-Thanks, mister!- she said as she took my hand and shaked it- before I go... what's your name?
-Travis, Travis A. Walker.
-Travis? that's an odd name-she giggled when she repeated my name.
-It is, right? -I couldn't help but smile at her childish happiness- and what is yours?
She smiled widely and said:-Claire! Claire Stanson!
I was shocked to hear my wife's name even if they did not had any relationship whatsoever.
-C-C-Claire? your name is Claire?
-Yes!... what's the problem? you don't like it?
-It's a beautiful name, in fact, is... my wife's name -I said slowly as tear started to drop from my eyes.
-And why do you cry? do you not like her? do you not love her?
-Of course I love her, I love her with all my heart; she's the reason why I am triying to escape the slend... boogeyman.
-So what's the problem, mister?
I started to cry really badly and said in a barely understandable way: -I miss her, I am afraid of not seing her again.
-Don't you worry, mister. I am sure that, if you really love her, you will defeat the boogeyman just for the sake of seeing her again.
-You can't understand how badly I wish you to be right.
-Believe me, everything will be ok, mister -she kissed me in the cheek and then ran away from my position in the dark space.

So... now I'm heading to London because a 11 year old girl in my dreams named as my wife told me to because she expects me to be all Hawke and kick Slenderman's ass from Kirkwall... I mean London. I hope that she has called a real hero to get Slenderman out from London and I am just the stupid that is there so Slenderman doesn't rape him and he rapes me instead.

Any help or data you can provide will be appreciated.

Reading

So, as you can tell, I made it out of my house alive (that or I write from the other side but it is unlikely since I have heard that the internet over there is really lousy). It was kind of hard since he suspected it (I guess) and went for me before I could make it out of town, maybe he didn’t want another person to get on the run. My first pit stop that isn’t a cpffehouse along the highway is Reading, Berkshire. How is it, you may ask, well I am glad to tell you that it is really warm, adults relax in the park, young people has parties in a yachts on the Thames and a pale thin man enjoys a killing spree somewhere in the city. YAY! It is the perfect summer! Uu-ooo uu-oo Autos, moda y rock and roll!!!! uu-ooo uu-oo, luces, ritmo y diversión!!!! Ok… I probably should stop quoting old songs by fandango (a music band from Mexico, pupular back in the 80’s).

Getting serious (and depressing) I really managed to get out alive, I stopped in the highway to pay a couple of pounds in a restaurant for the owner to let me sleep there half an hour or to buy some coffee beans so I can endure more without sleep (I can’t take the time to drink 17 cups of coffee, which is what I used to drink to stay awake) I probably will stand 3 or 4 days before I need a rest. He is really fast, a few times when I was going to get down of my bike in a coffeehouse he was already there, waiting. I need to watch out. Oh, by the way, you may excuse fron now on my constant typos, since I lost my reading glasses in the escape.

I guess I should tell you what my supplies are; I took with me my bike, an iPod to detect him when near and to write in the blog, a magic charger, almost £ 2500 so I guess I will live for a long time although… with the bloody high prices of petrol who knows… damn, I guess you and I can agree that the least of my problems is the price of combustible. I brought 2 Beretta M9 pistols, 14 magazines, an SA80 L85A2 with 5 magazines and last but not least my European sword. I know, I came armed to the teeth but… it makes me feel a little safer. I also brought a photo of my beautiful wife and a retractile umbrella (I mean, is bloody England, without that shit you couldn’t stand a day out therew)

Where should I go next? That’s the hardest of questions becausr it brings many more. You see mates: the fact of knowing what awaits you is the worst of curses. When I had the luxury of having a normal life I knew this little venezuelab boy named Manuel Morado Majica (nickname Kahn Uchiha) or something gay like that; he was dumb, lacked of culture, was ugly, poor, he didn’t had any talent at all, he was from a shitty country that everybody hates (except for the petrol making companies) but he was happy. Why, you may ask, simple: He was dumb as fuck; he wasn’t able to see that he will end as a hobo asking for a dime in a crossroad because he was so stupid, and that is a blessing. For that same reason, he wasn’t able to see beyond his little shitty world, he considered the bloke who got a 100 in the shitty Venezuelan education system an intelligent person, a smart person, but in the real world, in the first world, he isn’t prepared at all for what the world asks him to know, to be, to be able to do. He believed that, from one day to another, I stopped thinking that he was retarded and wanted to make friends with him, what a fool. As I was saying: the ability to ignore the big picture is a total blessing; that kid won’t realize that he will end up as a hobo untikl he becomes one; that must be amazing. Like the people that is unaware of who slenderman is until the very end: they never stop for a second to think “What if he gets me? What in the world will he do to me? And that must be a much better way to die than the one that we, the runners, the survivors, end up getting. . We die in fear of what will come next, we don’t even know if we will die or if we will be kept prisoners in some weird outer world we don’t understand, or if we will become one ofg his kind.

After my total ramble, I guess I should escape until I find out a way to fight him. Maybe I will go to the southwest or just south… I don’t know, I feel like I must go south for some reason. You know, I would love to stick around and talk but the Union Jack is starting to go down and I feel less safe in the darkness so maybe I will start to draw operator symbols near me and wait until tomorrow for my next move. I haven’t seen him over here at Reading but I am mostlyu sure that he will eventually come for me. Now that I think about it... he is scarier when he is not around that when he is, is more terrifying to wait for him to appear... actually, that is bullshit, everything is scary when he is following you: when he is there, when he is not, when you walk pass some trees... etc. Etc. You know, when I find myself rambling like that I realize how much he has messed up my mind in so little time. See you soon... hopefully.

Any help or data you can provide will be appreciated.