Friday, December 31, 2010

A New Years Story...

As I sit here, on the last day of what has arguably been the most stressful and yet most influential year of my life, all I can think about are the things that made this year what it was. It had its ups and downs. I met some new people...well, over the Internet...and I lost some old friends. I discovered that not everything in the world was in black and white, and that monsters do exist in the shadows of your room at night. I found...well, I guess my archnemesis, for lack of a better word, and I've had a field day with his dipshits. If I had to say anything, I would definitely say it was a productive year, this year was.

What keeps coming to my mind, however, are the final moments of last year, 2009. We were at an office party of one of our co-workers to celebrate New Years. I really didn't want to go, but I was half-encouraged, half-dragged to the event. My "socializing" for the year.

At one point I remember walking around a house that I had never been to, just trying to find Lizzie and maybe get out of there. Yeah, I worked with them, but as we all know by now, that just means we work for the same boss. And the guy who owned the house had a bunch of people that definitely didn't work for our department. So there I am, trying to find one familiar face among a sea of strangers. But at least all of them HAD far as I know, they did, at least.

I finally found her in the living room with Eric and the host, whoever it was, I honestly can't remember now. It was a formal party, and we were dressed in our best, but even this night she had outdone herself. She wore this black strapless dress that fit her like a glove, she wore contacts that lit her face up better than her glasses ever did, and her hair was wavy and neat. If you asked me then, I would've said she cleaned up well. If you asked me now, I'd say she was the most beautiful thing in that house.

Funny how that works out.

Eric saw me first, and nodded towards me with a smile. She turned, saw me, and waved with that big childlike smile on her face. I waved back with half a grin, just glad I had found familiar faces.

We hung out together in that room for a good hour or so just talking about our casework. December, Christmastime, is just as stressful a month for a cop as any other. Just the other day, I had interrogated a girl-couldn't have been older than twenty- that had three bodies torn apart in her house. Her boyfriend and two other people they had been travelling with. Any holiday month can bring out the best and the worst of people, and we always seem to deal with the worst.

It was around eleven thirty when she and I went outside for a breather. Eric was being entertained by the host's wife telling a joke, so it was just me and her on our own, and it was stuffy as hell in there from all the people practically squished together.

I sat on the lawn chair that for some reason was still on the step while she leaned against the pillar. It was snowing, and some snow had landed in her hair, and it was sparkling off the overhead light. I don't know why I remember that detail's just one of those things that you wished you had acted upon then.

She asked me what I thought the new year would bring. The only thing I could answer was that it would bring the same drunks, addicts, angry amd moronic criminals that it always brought. Days, weeks, months kind of melt together when you see the same thing day in and day out. I didn't put much emphasis on the New Year; yeah, it's the end of the year, but it's just another day.

"What about you?" I asked. "You actually have any of those resolutions?"

She didn't say anything for a while, she just played with this little bracelet she had bought the last time she had went to the mall. It was a small little elastic thing with a heart charm on it. She had that look on her face that she always had on whenever she was sad or thoughtful.

"I want things to go my way this year," she finally said after some time, looking out at the three stars in a curved line that we both knew was Orion's belt. "Get out of my dad's shadow. Maybe crack that one big case that will be the highlight of my career."

"What, and leave me in the dust?" I said, half-jokingly. Only half. "You crack the case and get that big fat promotion and leave me a bitter old man behind a desk?"

"You'd come with me, dork," she said, sticking her tongue out at me. "That's what partners do."

She gave me that cute look she gave me whenever I was actually doing something nice for someone, and I shifted uncomfortably. I hated when she got like this.

"But really," she said, "I want this to be the year something good happens for us. Something more than this day in, day out drudgery we go through. You know?"

I didn't then. I kind of do now. I just wish I could have given it to her.

That New Years night we stayed until midnight to watch the ball count down, then I took her back to my house and whatever happened happened after that. That was the beginning of my 2010.


Was I supposed to know then what was going to happen? Was I supposed to know that she and Eric would be dead less than six months later and I a fugitive from the law? She wanted this to be the year she made a difference with her life...instead she went insane and was carved up like a Jack-o-Lantern. She had one fucking wish...and she didn't get it.

My wish this year?

My wish this year is to find an ending. A silver lining. To make sure she didn't die in vain, and to make sure that everything I've done up to this point hasn't been for nothing. My wish is that I can find the courage to keep myself going, and to succeed in saving these other people when I failed in saving my Lizzie.

That's all I want.

I wouldn't mind getting what I wished for.


Happy New Year, folks.

May you get what you wished for this year.

I miss her.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Merry Christmas, kids.

Hope you find some amount of happiness in tough times.

Anyone out there, surviving this, deserves at least this day.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

They say they got him. They say Zero died in the battle, but they say they got him.


But no body being accounted for is going to leave me always wondering.

If you can produce a corpse, I'll believe it.

'Til then, I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Tonight, either Dr. Doom gets just a tiny bit weaker, or we lost a very good man. Either way, someone's not walking away.

Make it count, Zero.

Monday, December 20, 2010

The more I observe the situation going on around us, the more I can't comprehend how things got like this. It's almost as if we're being punished.

In our little world, we have three points of worry. The first one is the obvious: Ole' Tall Pale and Faceless. The ever silent stalker. The "angel of death", as I've heard spoken so many times before. The guy you love to fear and hate to see.

Every day, some poor new soul reports getting seen by him. I don't know how M deals with all the people that crowd to him, looking for answers to a mystery that may never be solved, even by someone like me. Some make it a week, others maybe a month or two. Every once in a while, you get that person who looks like they'll make it more than that, and you welcome them, you do everything you can for them. The others, you just try to keep them comforted right before the Tentacle Man comes for them in the end.

Never fun.

Guys like M and Zero are doing their best to lead them in their own ways. Even with the band that has swarmed to them like moths to the flame, I can't see myself as a part of their group. I'll help, but I don't feel like I fully belong in that circle. I've always been a bit of a lone wolf, and that's just how I like to operate. As much as I like them, as much as I respect them and wish them the best, I can't allow myself to fully commit to the team.

Especially with what happened to Robert and Nessa.

Which leads me to the second point of worry. The proxies. Or "Hallowed", as I guess the new term has been coined. I personally don't know which term I prefer more. "Dipshits" seems the most appropriate term.

Seems like you get different breeds. The regular ones give the cryptic sayings and random binaries; the usual. But the smarter ones, the ones that taunt you from the safety of their own blogs, those are the ones that either deal directly with him or directly on their own. Guys like Conaghan, smart, sophisticated, knowing full well what they're getting themselves into and not caring about the consequences. Completely brainwashed.

I've seen a couple of examples of this, mainly in the chick that's taunting the "Stopping Lights" girl and "Redlight". I have no doubt that their "master" is telling them what they're doing; I recognize their speech from Conaghan. How long they'll go, I can't say. If they ever come across me, not long.

And then...there's the dead. Somehow Nessa came back from the dead, and...I guess Zero gave her up? Which is getting me a little annoyed. I don't care what Redlight "promised". He's one of them. Nessa was one of yours. And you gave her up so that she could have an escape from this?

There is no ESCAPE from this.

We're all in this until either he's dead, or we are. And we're not getting any "help" for doing so.


Which leads me to point of worry number three.

The government.

Before I get into this topic, to quell the confusion let me first get rid of the basic beliefs:

The government didn't "create" Slender Man. He isn't the byproduct of some military experiment. He has no ties to the military whatsoever. The president is not using him to take over the world. He's not on government payroll. The government has absolutely no intention to use him in any global or political matters.

But they know he's there.

And they know they can't control him.

So they do the next best thing.

They monitor him. They keep an eye on him. They let him do his own thing, they don't try and stop him because they know he won't push it too far.

And then there's his "handler". Fisk.

What I mean by handler is that Fisk is the one tasked with making sure he keeps track of all the sightings and going to anywhere Slender Man might be located. If anyone's ever dealt with an F.B.I agent involved in a Slender sighting/kidnapping, chances are it's either Fisk or one of his men. Fisk is clean-up. Slender Man makes the mess, he comes in and cleans it up.

Now I know a lot of people are going to think I'm making this up. I know a lot of people won't believe me. I don't expect you to. But before you entirely dismiss it, think about this:

How many people have just up and disappeared in the last year and a half? How many women? How many children? How many random and unaccounted suicides? How many bizarre murders? How many times have people reported a friend going out of his mind before either suddenly disappearing or dying? This is no longer an isolated sitution, I'm sure you're all aware of this. This has become a pandemic.

And you mean to tell me that after all that, NO ONE can make a federal case of it? NO ONE has tried taking this above the local law enforcement? NO ONE is making a big deal out of this?

It's because they know. They know what's been unleashed on us. And they don't care.

One enemy, on all sides of us. They've boxed us into the middle, and we're left to fight our way out. No matter where you are, or how it's effecting you, the overall outcome is still the same.

There's no help coming.

We're on our own.