Friday, March 25, 2011

Damien's House

I've stood in the homes of many dead men before. I've stood over their corpses and looked through their drawers for clues and substances. Hell, I've sat on chairs and beds while trying to get my head wrapped around the crime without really feeling anything by the fact of being in a dead person's room. But I'll tell you now, standing in Damien's house last night gave me goosebumps that I never got when I was a working cop.

I stood in his main room for ten minutes, looking around at the dirty, shabby conditions that it had fallen into and wondered if it had been like that when it had had an occupant as well. There was dust all over the place, chair knocked over (most likely from that last scuffle), dishes and plates left untouched and uncleaned in the sink. A mouse scurried along the floor, looking for food, at one point crossing right over my boot.

I closed my eyes for a moment, though why I was doing that I wasn't entirely sure of even then.

Where are you, Damien? I thought. Are you really dead? Or are you still out there somewhere, being torn apart by your own subconscious? Do you feel me in your house right now? Am I supposed to feel you here?

Of course, I get no answer. Not like I was expecting one.

Once I was done with that, I got to work. I checked every square inch of that living room before I finally made my way to the bedroom. Looked basically like it should have, just as dirty, and the bed having not been slept in for a very long time. I poked through drawers, cupboards, closet, under the bed, even checked a couple of loose floorboards.

Nothing. No drawings. No bone. Nothing. The place had been cleaned out.

Damn, the thought ran through my mind. I knew it'd be cleaned out, but I thought there would be something of value. Nothing, though.

Guess the red building's the place to go-

It happened so fast I barely caught it, but even slight movement is movement. My eyes caught it out of the corner; a tuff of black, peering in through the window before leaving in the blink of an eye. Just as fast I was out the door, gun drawn, looking around.

Come ooon! Show yourself!” I shouted. “I know you're out here, fuckface! COME ON!”

The woods in the middle of the night; my worst nightmare. But someone was out there, for sure, and I wasn't about to let them go, but out here there was nothing, not even wind to blow the trees around. So there I was, standing in the woods with gun drawn, shouting for a shadow that was not there.

But it was there. I'm damn sure of that. Something is sure as fuck following me out here.

I'm going to the red building. It's the only place I can think of to go.

I'll post again after I get back.


  1. Zeke...

    Please. Just get out. That bad feeling I have? It's only getting worse. So much worse.

    You can't help any of us if you're dead, Zeke. Please. We need you. I need you.

    Be careful. And get out.

  2. sounds a bit like you don't think that thing watching you was the Slender Man.

    That's...unusual, to say the least.


  3. I know you already thought of this Strahm. We already saw how similarly our minds work. You described what you saw as 'a tuft of black'. The girl, the one from town. She's still following you. Surprising that she can keep such a tight tail on you without your knowledge. Are you letting your senses dull? Rest, while dangerous, is a deadly requirement in the field you are in now my friend. Dont let them get the drop on you. Like a fellow said in the responses to your last post, that cult is most likely still active. You dont know if that girl is friend or foe, and if its tendrils (pardon the wording..) spread deeply into that town, just exposing yourself at Damien's job might have put you at more risk than when you were just running.

    Keep safe my friend, I want you to make it to your next check-in.

  4. Oh shit. Well...good job finding the house at least Zeke. I hope you find something, I've always agreed with you that the story seems too...real to have been a paranoid delusion. I sadly can't think of any tips, it's not like there's a "How to Investigate Dead Slenderstalked For Dummy's" book on my shelf. Regardless, good luck, and stay safe.

  5. I doubt we can dissuade you.

    That being the case, we're all rooting for you Zeke.

    Now be careful in there.

    ~ Branwen

  6. A "tuff" of black. Can we assume by that you mean hair or fur, or did you mean something along the lines of a "flash"?

    Either way, proceed with caution, of course. I may be one of the few who believe this creature is limited by the laws of reality, and therefore mortal, but that doesn't mean it cannot harm you. A calm, collected, confident person is better off in this situation than someone terrified.

    On another note, who exactly is the current owner of the house, and why has it not been fixed up, cleaned, or even resold since Damien's death? Those are questions that I would like answered.

  7. I have a bad feeling about this, you really should be very careful, please.

  8. Zeke, whatever you do, don't do anything too rash. Be careful pal.

    - DJ

  9. I just started reading about you Zeke and I got to say your experiences sound like a day in the mind of charlie sheen except there is no winning

  10. God dammit, what is it with you people messing with everything?


  12. What a harrowing place to be. Keep a sharp eye out for old fuckface there, Zeke.

  13. Maybe that movement of black was someone's hair as they were watching you through the window and then ducked down as to not be seen?