Friday, January 20, 2012

Day 293

The shadow knows. I am the shadow but I know nothing. I know things that I do not know and I do not know things that I know. I can hear the voices in the leaves. They tell me that it’s alright, that I’m meant to be here. They love me. The leaves are my friends, and as the dead wind carries them away they cry. They don’t want to be separated from me.

I love them.

I wish my friends would come back.

I am a shadow of the Beast, and the Beast is a shadow of me. I know when he is near now. I can almost hear his thoughts, like a cloud of iron-cast mosquitoes in my mind. His thoughts are strange, alien. They speak of gods of brass and devils of elysiate. They speak of the circuitry of the heavens and the clockwork of a molecule. The Beast knows the true nature of the world, the nature that he lies and tries to hide from me. He knows I am here, and he is afraid of me, and I am afraid of him. The circle of life. Join hands, everybody, and sing along. We all fall down as the dead wind blows. The Grim Reaper is in the wind, his insect legs and glittering prismatic eyes skittering along the ethereal motions of the rare gases and the scents and sounds of a world he has already picked clean. This world is his paradise, and I am the last prey he has. He is watching me, but not coming for me. I cannot hear him, but I see him sometimes, hiding under the dead houses and in the dying trees and grasses. His form is multitude, his voices are as a legion, and yet he never speaks. Words, like all else, perish before him.

I am going into the earth. I seek the heart of the monster, the dark secret spoken of only in the dead of night when this world is at its stillest. The Insect and the Beast whisper of it to each other, speaking of It in reverent tones. I want to see what they see. I want to love what they love, know the truths that they know. Then I will be equal to them.

Then I will survive. Then I will transcend. Then I will become more than human, and be able to return home.

Then I will know who I am.


[TRANSCRIPT: Obtained 1/20/2012 from primary source. Transcript edited for structure and ease of reading. Return source to owner immediately.]

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Day 281

Oh god I hope this thing is still working.

Its batteries are finally starting to wear down as the sun sets. It works less and less often. I need this. I need to record what happens to me. I need somebody to know, some proof to remain that I existed. I…I promised that I would record what happened to me in the Tower. The memories are starting to…fragment, with time. Become unclear. So I’m going to record what I can remember right now, before it’s too late and they’re gone for good.

I approached the tower cautiously, sidearm out and ready. Nothing attacked, though. The only sound was the wind, blowing some dead leaves across the ground. The Tower doesn’t have a door. Just an opening. I stepped through it. The inside was pitch-black. When I turned to exit, I found that there was no exit. The darkness was all around me. I tried to light a match from my backpack, but it fizzled as soon as it lit. I could hear…things. Slimy things. Things with no bones, creatures of pure malice slithering in the darkness. I had to move, but I had no idea where to go or what to do. I ran, blindly, praying that I could find an exit before the things caught up to me. Finally, ahead, there was a speck of light. It grew into another opening as I approached, and I leapt through, crying with relief. When I finally looked up, though, my relief vanished.

I was in an operating room. White, clean, sterile. The gurney in the center of the room, though, was covered in blood. Fresh. I could smell it. I could see drops of it forming puddles on the blindingly white linoleum. I tried to scramble back, but the door had vanished again. The OR doors on the other side of the room opened, and…and….

(sounds of crying for approximately 2 minutes)

I…I’m sorry. I used to have better control than this. I used to be able to face ANYTHING without fear. Now…I’m just….I’m just not that person anymore. This place DOES things to you…it saps all the happiness, all the bravery out of you and leaves you a husk.

I think it FEEDS on you until there’s nothing left and you end up like Sage or his followers. Begging for death and smiling when it comes. But…but I have a story to tell. I owe whoever finds this that much. I want them to know what broke me.

The OR door opened and a surgical team came in. At first I though they were wearing masks, but they weren’t. They just….they had no mouths. They had no mouths and I had to scream. And I was still screaming as they strapped me to the operating table. The first incision….I could see it. I saw the scalpel go in and the flesh part and the blood flow and they were SMILING THEY WERE SMILING BUT THEY HAD NO MOUTHS AND