Ashes to Ashes

I have to say, when all of this began, I didn't expect that being chased and tortured by a monster and its followers would require so much research. It's kinda like school, if the blogs are primary sources of how not to die, and the essay I'm writing determines my fate.  Boy, you really know how to make everything boring, don't you?

Hi guys.  Gray here.  And Kor.  Yes, and Kor and we are rested and researched and ready to face this challenge!  Today's the day we're breaking out of this thing except we don't know what a day for us means in the real world.  For all we know it could be April by this afternoon Well it doesn't matter, Gray.  It doesn't matter what's happening to them, just what's happening to us.  It's not like we're rushing to get anywhere I guess you're right.  We have nothing left.

Oh come on, we've come so far and  you're going to start crying again now?  Listen.  You keep living until you find a new reason to live.  That doesn't make any sense.  No?  Well it's how the world keeps turning.  And if I have to drag you along by force I will.  Reason enough for you?

Fine.

Besides, I don't have to be inside your head to know that this means more to you than just a possible escape route.  You would have done it regardless.  You're that kind of person.

Let's explain the plan, shall we?  Feel free to do the honors, Storm cloud.  Storm cloud?  It fits you!  Should I go back to grasshopper?  Oh no, you like my love, right?

Okay okay okay I take it back just please get off me.  You're getting off topic.  You're getting me off topic!  Gray, just tell the people our marvelous plan.

Fine.  So from our hasty research on loops we found out two possible escape methods that seem to work most times.  Discounting the ones about chanting magic spells cause, excuse me for being a skeptic but magic?  Seriously?  We also discounted the ones about just waiting it out because we have a limited food source and the ones about just believing in yourself hard enough cause honestly that's bigger bullshit than the magic ones.

So possible solution one was find the proxy who's maintaining the loop and kill him so that he can no longer maintain it.  This one was my personal favorite.  But there were several problems, such as the proxy probably being better trained in combat than us and also he appears to be outside the loop, not in here with us.  If we could get outside the loop that would defeat the whole purpose of needing to escape it in the first place.  Yeah, so we went on to alternate plan B.  Which honestly seemed to have the most support going for it in terms of seeming to work consistently.

It was to do something completely crazy, out of character or just not what you would logically do.  Like jumping off a cliff.  Or drinking whiskey.  Or facing your fear.

I think it was Dr. Fracture who, in a comment said that it seemed like our loop was less of a dimension and more a recreation of the moment that we were trapped in it.  The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.  Time is crawling by, the blood isn't drying, my cuts aren't even healing and we can't leave this room.  If loops are really partially filled by the thoughts of the person inside (which I'm pretty sure I read somewhere) then it would make sense that...that I was a bit hung up on this moment.  That maybe I still am.

So what we're going to do is break it.  It was my idea.  No, it was my idea.  Well, the whole concept was your plan, but I was the one who came up with using fire!  Well, yes, Kor, that is true.

My thinking is that if we're frozen in this moment, we just have to remove something integral to it and the entire loop will break down.  So...I'm going to accept that my mom is dead.  I'm going to move on and maybe time will too.  And the best way to do that is to lay her to rest.  But...I can't even bury her.  We're in our stupid kitchen.  I wish I could get her a priest or something...This is good enough, Gray.  It's respectful and it's final.  Besides, she wouldn't have wanted a lot of people around or a whole big affair.  You know that.  She's got her boy here.  You meant the world to her.  But before she died...the last thing she saw was us betraying her...cutting, cutting out her That was me, Gray.  Not you.  You never had anything but love for her.  You buried everything inside, even before I was here to support you, for her.  She knows how much you loved her.  I could have run.  I could have run and maybe this would never have happened.  We can't know, Gray.  But you loved her, and I swear on my love for you that one day we'll find that Jessica bitch and I will cut out her tongue just for you.

Let's cremate mom for now.  There's been enough death recently.  I just want to get some rest once we escape.  Anything you want my love.

I...still don't want to put up our last name on here, but I want to say something.  So...

Mary Anne, you were the best mom I could ever want.  This blog was supposed to be my eulogy, but it seems it's turned into yours as well.  I never wanted for that, but then again, I never wanted for any of this.  The demons that I'll have to face as I grow up are different than the ones you struggled with, but thank you for trying to protect me from them.  Thank you for sacrificing everything that you were for me, before I was even born.  I'm sorry I was never anything but a disappointment, sorry that I never did anything but make everything harder for you, sorry that I brought this ending to you.  I hope you rest in peace.

When this is finally all over, I'll join you in heaven.  I promise, mom.  

So, it's time I guess.  If what I've read is true all we have to do is really focus on something in here and it'll appear.  Two spark stones make a fire, right?  Flint and tinder.  You ready?  Are you?  I...think so.  

Okay.  See you guys on the other side.  

Ash Gray

I doubt anyone noticed, or cared, but I haven't been on here in a few days. Probably Malcolm was the only one who realized since we email far more often than I post here. I have been rather laid up for all of yesterday and some of today. I think I'm better now, though.


It started with another one of those dreams.


I was standing in darkness, alone and empty. It was nice though, peaceful. Like how I imagine dying will feel once this is all finally over. But I couldn't see even darker shapes moving through the darkness, and then something weirdly slimy was stroking down my arms. From the experience of other dreams like this I suppose it was those tentacles again. And there were voices all around, the screechy laughing from last time, but also soothing tones and whispered ones. It was hard to tell what they were saying, but I knew that they were good things even though the voices that said them scared me.


Then all of a sudden I burst into flame. A huge, raging bonfire all around me and its light beat back the shadows. They recoiled, their sweet words becoming hisses and screams. I could see the darkness better now than when I had been encased by it, and I looked out at it with interest. It seemed so small now, pushed back by my fiery shield.


And now the fire started whispering, and it only had one voice. About how it would protect me and love me. I almost believed it until something drove me to look down at myself. Even though I felt no heat from the fire around me, my body was burning and bubbling, melting off my bones. As I dissolved into a puddle I screamed for the cooling shadows to come back to me, but they couldn't penetrate the fire. The fire that saved me only to kill me.


I woke up sweating to find the most extensive of my wall decorations yet. It must have taken hours. I, or my body, had gathered together pieces of paper and burned them. Their ashes lay scattered about on the floor, but mostly I saw them finger painted on to my wall in the shape of a giant heart.


And Malcolm, I felt him right there, on the edge of my brain. I don't know how I knew but I felt him right there, about to take over. Everyone else who reads this, I'll explain soon, I just don't feel mentally up to it right now. So I stared at the ashen heart and I felt him growing like fire and then a huge black wave washed over me. Y'know, metaphorically. But I knew it was from Him.


The wave pushed the fire back deep down into where it came from and at the same time hit me with the strongest bout of slendersickness I have ever had. I was lucky I made it to the bathroom before I started vomiting uncontrollably. I was nauseous and had a splitting headache and I spent almost all of yesterday laid out on the bathroom floor, which is not how I like spending my weekends. At least my mom didn't send me to school today.

But the fire was gone. It was strange, almost purposeful. Like the sickness was sent to keep him from coming back. That's silly, though, right? I mean, why would he care? He wouldn't care that much about me.  

I hope my paint comes soon.  Or I'll run out of wall space and who knows where I'll draw next?

Lonely Gray

I've never really been very popular.  I doubt that comes as any kind of shock to you guys.  I had friends when I was really little, but then I showed myself as the freak I am and everything kind of spiraled downhill.  I guess that parents were a little scared to let their kids spend time with me.  And the kids had an easy enough time ganging up against me.  Kids are good at that.  I don't blame them, I'm not exactly fun to be around and it's not worth the danger.

I figure I have gotten as used to loneliness as possible, but being lonely isn't something you can just get used to.  It hurts like muscle cramps in the bottom of your stomach.  I mean, compared to the Slender headaches I've been getting recently, it's not that bad.  More dull ache, less stabbing pain.  If I don't spend time in public places, sometimes I can pretend that I'm only alone because no one's around and not because no one would hang out with me anyway.

But that's all okay.  I'm fine with that.  I've accepted that as my way of life.

This post is for different reasons.  It's about happier things.  I know, it's unexpected to see happy things on this blog.  But I am happy.

I made a friend!  Or at least, a pen pal.  A guy who responds to emails if I send them.  Usually.  It's Malcolm from Rain or Snow Services!  He and his coworkers agreed to my request for a can of paint in order to paint over my increasingly extravagant sleep drawings.  So that should be coming up soon, but meanwhile Malcolm and I talked for a bit and he's really super nice.  This is the first time in a long time that I've had real social interaction with someone who isn't my mom.  And it's nice to be able to talk with him about this Slender stuff without worrying about ruining his life.

Apparently, though, there's someone else who loves me.  Recently more and more of my unconscious doodles have been rather....personal.  

My Dearest Gray 
or
I love you Gray
or
Gray, let me protect you from the world

and just a few minutes ago when I dozed off in the middle of writing this post,

You can't trust that so-called friend.  He doesn't love you like I do.

It's taking a lot of effort not to panic.  Malcolm said he'd help me figure out what was going on.  I trust Malcolm.

Unconsciously Gray

The drawing situation is getting worse. I close my eyes for a bit and when I open them again (what I think is seconds later) I've doodled all over my skin, my notebooks, my bedroom walls. Operator symbols, crude drawings, words sometimes. Usually about darkness, but sometimes about fire. I even snapped out of a nap yesterday to find myself gouging something into my desk with my pencil. I woke up too soon to try and figure out what it was going to say.


It started with “let m”. I have some pretty good assumptions of what it was the beginning of, but I'm trying not to think about it. The less I remember how screwed up I am the less scared I am. But that's basically a lost cause at this point. I'm both too screwed up and too scared.


I should start being less obvious about it, though. The last thing I want is for any of this to reach my mom. If she saw my graffiti covered room she'd send me back to the Hospital. Or she'd start trying to understand me. She's big hearted like that. And the last thing I'd want to do is infect her. She heard the details of what happened to Graham from the police report, I couldn't keep her from that, but she has no idea what caused it. And if I get to choose she never will.


So I should probably figure out how to sneak some paint in to my room to cover up the most obvious things. And I should start trying to get control over myself while I'm asleep. I don't even know where to start on that project, but it's an important one. I don't want to do anything serious while I'm not myself. And I don't like the feeling that I'm not in control of my body. I've had too much of that in my life.



I just feel so helpless to stop it. Why is this happening to me. I don't deserve this. Every time I walk to the bus stop I see Him, standing there, off in a patch of trees, staring at me. And smiling. I don't know how something without a mouth can smile, but I feel His smile like burning directly on my soul. It's very hard to breathe when He is around. No one can accurately describe that feeling.

Insomniac Gray

I see lots of you putting up dreams on your blogs, thinking that maybe they mean something. I had a dream last night, a nightmare that I can't seem to get out of my head. Maybe by writing it down here I can at least escape from it a little.

I was falling into a fire from a great height, and as I got closer I could feel its heat crackling on my skin. All around the shadows cast by the blaze were dancing and screaming, like cheering fans. Just as I was about to swan dive into the fire, I was caught by black tentacles that wrapped around my arms and legs. The fire was so intense I felt myself bubbling and swelling and melting. The fire reached up and spoke to me.

It said: “Come to me and I will save you from the darkness”

And the tentacles had no voice, but I felt words in my head, like weights directly on my brain.

They said: “Come with me and I will save you from the light”

I woke up screaming, and barely managed to get to the door of my room in time to lock it. We have a strict no locked doors policy in our house, but when I reassured my mom from the other side that I was totally fine she let me off with a warning. I couldn't let her in because when I woke up I saw the wall behind my bed was spotted with operator symbols. And very small in the corner (I almost didn't see it), the words “the fire will come to you”.  I must be sleep writing now.  My life gets better and better.

She'd send me back to the hospital if she saw this. I'd send me back to the hospital. This is breaking my head. I think I may stop taking my meds. Mixing drugs and Slender mind fucks seems like a bad idea.  

Hopefully I can get a little bit more sleep, I have to be up for school in a few hours.