Tuesday, April 26, 2011

I remembered something.

Not much, but I wanna write it down before I forget it. The reason I went with it was because there was a man at a church who I was furious at. I don't exactly know why, but I remember following him around town until I got him alone and I think we exchanged some words and then I killed him. I think he was the first person I murdered.

Fuck, exactly how messed up am I?

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Told Noc this, might as well tell you all

I'll just copy paste my comment, yeah?

Sharing is caring, huh? Well, this is for Ava so we can try and get Reach back faster. Don't know if this is what you're looking for, and unfortunately I can't give you much due to not remembering anything before marrying Cathy...but, I do remember those years running. And now would be as good a time as any to unload some shit.

I don't like you people, or, at least, most of you. But nevertheless...

I ran from that thing for maybe...four years, give or take. The other six? Seven? I lost track of the time to be honest, was spent working for that thing. What I did- hehe, I tortured people. It wasn't like it is now. You didn't give the victim a chance, leave them secret messages and watch them from afar. The best part was savoring having them in your grasp and seeing the fear in their eyes as they silently plead for you to just let them go.
"You're human too, why won't you help me?"
"Why, why are you doing this to me?"
And sometimes it wouldn't be quick. It would be slow, starting with the fingers and moving on to the intestines. They would be alive through it, writhing in pain and silently wishing for it all to be over.
And when they finally broke, blood pooling into my hands, I would hand them over to it. This thing would take them and break them mentally, play over worst fears and give them rays of hope only to crush them. Over and over they would be twisted and broken. It was fun to me back then, I laughed as I pulled nails out and broke ribs one by one.
And I still don't think it was wrong. I still am confused as to why it's wrong to have hurt them.

Hehe, you wanna know my secret? The monster /changed/ me. I lack the necessary emotions to function as a normal person. I am a sociopath. I am crazy. Something happened to my brain ...that thing did something to my head. And now I'm no better than all the other minions. Maybe even worse as most of them don't have any class, they just act on basic emotion and let it control everything they do. They weren't around for the good old days...good- did I say good? I mean the bad days. Actually no, I don't know if it was good or bad, it was just years in my life.

So there it is. Wouldn't say it before because I learned to lie and make the victims trust me. I don't work for it anymore but...people might find it a tiny bit more difficult to trust me now, hehe.

So there you have it. One of the things I do remember about myself that my parents didn't tell me.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Alrighty then

Well, I can't see through my right eye. It's making typing a bitch, and my depth perception is now thrown completely. Goddamn, I don't think it's ever gonna heal and being crippled in this line of business gets you killed so easily...

My wife had to save my ass because- shit- how could I have not known my parents were involved? I mean, hell, everyone else I ever knew has been either killed or taken by it, so it would make sense that it got to my parents. Hehe, I was stupid, you guys. A real fuck up. I fuckin' broke rule number one of running for your life: trust no one.

Damn, I guess...it's my parents, y'know? And I don't know how long this thing has had control over them cause'

I can't remember anything.

Might as well say it now since my daughter and her buddies seem so keen on slapping me in the face with this bit of info. Hehe, you guys don't know me- I don't even know me. Everything I know of...well, let's just say it's back to my marriage with Cathy and everything before that is...not gone, but blurry. Fuzzy. Can't make out specific images and shit. My parents- fuck, now I see how messed up this is- my parents had to tell me all about my past when I married Cathy because one morning I woke up and it was all gone.

But I can remember those eleven years. Very clearly. Heh. Six years. Six long years. Everything is falling apart. Cathy wants to go visit her grandma, my parents clearly tried to kill me or hand me over to it, and my daughter is seeing dead best friends. And I'm sittin' here wishing I could remember what was normal life before all of this happened and I can't. I don't have any old memories of being safe and secure to draw on and pretend everything is gonna be okay. And maybe that's for the best cause' at least I don't delude myself into thinking we're all gonna be alright.

We're all dead. It's just a matter of when we die and how we die. Just pray you don't kick the bucket soon and if you go down, go down swinging, kicking, screaming bloody murder, and taking as many bastards as you can.

I got a bad feeling about everything. Cathy agrees- it feels like there's something bigger than I originally thought going on. And we have no idea what the hell it is, but we're gonna try and find out.