First thing's first; I'm fine. You can stop worrying about me.
I'm in a hospital and, contrary to what that may imply, it doesn't contradict with what I said about being fine. The bloody doctor won't let me discharge myself. He says that I have to be kept in for a few nights of "observation". Even though there is nothing wrong with me. They couldn't find a single thing wrong with me, yet that is apparently cause for concern.
Right, I guess I should probably explain how I wound up in hospital. Apparently, after I got on the bus on Wednesday, I did fall asleep, but I didn't wake up to a bus full of corpses. In fact, I wouldn't wake up at all, at first. I just sat absolutely still. They took me off the bus and to a doctor, where I just sat still, doing nothing, until someone walked into my room with an iPod, at which point I apparently tackled them to the ground, pulled it out of their hands and posted Something.
The doctors then tried to pry it out of my hands, but they had as little success taking the iPod from me as they had getting me to move again. So they did the only thing they could do, which was stick an IV in me. There was no activity from me until the next day, when I started frantically typing again and posted Nowhere Man. Once again, they tried to yank the iPod off me and once again they failed. More hours of silent sitting. Staring into space. No movement.
Then, I started typing like a madman and posted Helter Skelter. Apparently, on that occasion, my doctor was the only one who roused himself to half-heartedly try and get the iPod off me. Apparently, on that occasion, I also pushed him to the ground and did a running jump through a window. Luckily, my room is on the ground floor. I came to about an hour later, but they took the iPod off me and put me in bed before I could post about it. Which brings me to how I got my iPod back.
Eulogy decided to visit me today.
Me: -I'm lying in bed, bored out of my head-
Eulogy: -he walks in with a smug look on his face and throws my iPod down on my table- Turn on your recorder, Reach, you may want to post this on your blog.
Me: -I glare at him but turn on my recorder anyway- What do you want, Eulogy? And how did you get my iPod?
Eulogy: -he smiles- I have them convinced I'm the new hospital chaplain. The last one met...an unfortunate end.
Me: The end of the barrel of Hammer's revolver? Oh, no wait, that can't be it, because the last time he tried to shoot me, I smacked him like a bitch and took his gun. Where is the little wimp anyway?
Eulogy: -he chuckles- Guarding the door and well within ear-shot, as I'm sure you were aware. Hammer is of no consequence to this discussion though. I am here to diagnose you.
Me: Oh? This ought to be a laugh. Go on, then.
Eulogy: -he leans on the end of my bed and the old metal creaks- You think you're the only one who's seen the wasteland, Reach?
Me: -my chest goes cold and my stomach sinks- W-what?
Eulogy: -he chuckles again, obviously enjoying the effect- I too have seen the baked earth, the too-big sun, the acres of dust as far as the I can see. I too have been visited with these visions in my dreams. They stopped a couple of months ago, but only because they moved on to you, it would seem.
Me: You're lying. You got that information from my posts and now you're just trying to freak me out and get inside my head. Nice try, Eulogy, but you're wasting your time.
Eulogy: Oh, really? -he produces a penknife from his pocket, unfolds it and holds the blade to his wrist- Funnily enough, Reach, I don't think I need tricks quite that elaborate to get inside your head. -he holds the blade there silently for a few more moments before putting it back in his pocket- Fine. If you want proof that I too have seen the wasteland, then I must remind you of the things you saw roaming outside the window.
Me: -for a moment, I feel like my whole body has frozen and the crystals of blood are ripping through my veins, then I thaw- Things? What things?
Eulogy: -he leans forward again and eyes me carefully- Don't play coy with me, boy. We both know what things I'm talking about. The shapes that moved across the wasteland when the sun set at night. The nameless things that surrounded the bus once darkness had descended. The entities that clawed and howled in tones so wolf-like and yet so...un. The shadows of what could have been animals that terrorised you every night on that bus, more than the corpses, more than your mother, more even than the Tall One. Those things.
Me: ...you did see it then. You did see the wasteland. You did see what I saw.
Eulogy: Yes, I did. I saw it in all its glorious beauty.
Me: Beauty!? What kind of sick, twisted mind would call that beauty? Heh, why did I even need to ask? A sick mind that's been twisted by Slender Man, that's what kind of mind. I really pity you, Eulogy. You have no idea.
Eulogy: Oh, Reach, loved as that makes me feel, you don't have to cry for a shadow like me. It's not going to make a difference in the end. We will all be but footnotes in the glory of the Tall One's creation.
Me: Creation!? I saw no creation in that wasteland, only destruction. You...you're beyond redemption, aren't you? You can't be cured. I...I have to kill you, don't I?
Eulogy: -he shrugs- Or I kill you. One or the other. It doesn't really matter. Our little spat is as inconsequential as anything else we will do. That will all be swept away soon enough.
Me: Leave me, Eulogy. I need time to think.
Eulogy: -he frowns at me- What makes you think you get to give the orders around here?
Me: I never said I thought that, did I? I just assumed that you'd want to take the dramatic exit and kill me at a later date. After all, public slaughter isn't your style, though it may be Hammer's. Just go.
Eulogy: -he breathes heavily, visibly angered but ultimately decides to storm out-
So yeah. I left something out of my posts. They just...I don't know what those things were but just thinking about them is horrifying on such a deep level that even when I was surrounded by singing corpses, I wanted nothing more than to push that thought out of my head. Which reminds me. I should probably tell you guys what happened in the dream after my last post.
Well, as you can guess, I gave myself a good running start and propelled myself through the front window. I hit the ground and tumbled a few times but thankfully I didn't get run over by the bus. When I got up, it was off to one side, on its side, burning. Some corpses were hanging out the windows, still singing, and I could faintly hear my mother's voice. But it was when I turned back to the road that something even more horrifying happened.
The Hanging Man walked towards me, flanked by two of those...things. Even now, I can't remember a clear shape or size. Just...fear. And yellow eyes. He stood a few feet away from me, shouted at me and then sicced the two creatures on me. It was only when they started ripping through my flesh that I woke up but as horrible as that was, something else has been stuck in my head ever since. The words he shouted at me. More Latin.
"Omnes vidisse abeo venient."
Unfortunately, it was too complex for me to work out, limited as my Latin is, but I was able to get Jean to translate it.
"All you have seen will come to pass."
Reach out.
I don't pretend to be credible. It's one of my strengths. I've known more than a few people who've had apocalyptic visions, and have kept them from coming to pass. There is no such thing as predestination. Sometimes you fight. Sometimes you run. No matter what, you resist until your muscles have faded and your bones are dust. Then you resist some more. That is the only way you'll find any peace.
ReplyDeleteI could theorize on what you saw, but it wouldn't help much. What I will say is this: whatever answer you find for these visions, it will complicate the road ahead, but it won't change the destination.
It's the end of the world as we know it,
ReplyDeleteIt's the end of the world as we know it,
It's the end of the world as we know it -
And Reach is fine ~
Good to hear you're back, Reach. Happy zombie Jesus day, time zones are not my specialty.
Whoo! Go Reach. All you have seen...not good news or good news...?
ReplyDeleteI saw a post-apocalyptic wasteland ravaged my untold eldritch horrors from the black abyss at the heart of the void between fear and terror. Does that sound like good fucking news, Frap?
ReplyDeleteI'm relieved that you're alright. As far as the rest...well you know better then the rest of us that our mutual stalker can cause people to have the same hallucinations. There's no guarantee that this thing really will come after you.
ReplyDeleteAnalysis: upload commencing. Upload complete. Analysis:
ReplyDeleteSubject: Raymond "Reach" Shaughnessy. Status: Unstable. Abilities: Competent. Emotional status: Strong. Threat level: High. Intelligence level: Low to moderate. Potential: High. Danger: High.
No, that doesn't sound like good news. But does "All you have seen will come to pass" mean - oh...wait. I get it. No, that sounds like horrible fucking news. Sorry.
ReplyDeleteWhy is there a computer on your blog?
ReplyDeleteAlso....you're not...dead.
Good.
Haha! I like the robot, Reach. Looks like it's got you down to pat.
ReplyDeleteIn other news, I'm pretty sure we're fucked. I'm also pretty sure you need to get the fuck out of dodge ASAP. I really don't think this sounds good in anyway. Go somewhere safe.
Also, glad you're not dead.
I'm a bit insulted by the intelligence rating but hey, you can't have everything.
ReplyDeleteI'm really trying to get out of this place, Jean, but they're keeping me under observation and they know I want to leave, so there's a security guy at my door for the night. I don't want to hurt an innocent either. I guess it can't hurt to rest for a couple of days.
No, because if they're that insistent on getting you to stay then you need to be GONE, Reach. Because I don't think this is good in any way. Get your dad to call you his responsibility or something, anything. I just don't like this, not one bit.
ReplyDeleteThough that might be the hangover talking. Gimme a second.
Nope, this still seems pretty damn bad.
My dad's off the grid, Jean. I'm alone. There's nothing I can do but wait for them to release me.
ReplyDeleteArghhhh Reaaach listen the fuck to me this is BAD. WAITING SI BAD. THIS SI A BAD IDEA don't youd are fucking just fucking lie there or I'll tell aba abotu taht tiem with the SHEEP GODDAMNIT YOU'RE FUCKING SMART FIGURE THIS SHTI OUT AND GET OUT OF THERE
ReplyDelete...
ReplyDeleteI told you about the Incident in confidence.
Look, if something bad happens, you can say "I told you so." But, to be honest, the opportunity for a few days rest isn't all that repulsive. I'm not happy about it but I don't have much of a choice.
ajlk reaaaaaach for fucks sakes.
ReplyDeleteFINE. BE LIKE THAT.
just please staysafe. Please?
For some reason "2012" enters my mind after reading this. Anyways, if there's any way I can help, try to spring you, bring anything, blah blah, let me know, I'm sure if I tried hard enough I could convince 'em I'm a relative or something, or get hold of a fake I.D.
ReplyDeleteDon't trust the Invader! Invaders must DIE!
ReplyDeleteCalm down member of The Prodigy.
ReplyDelete@Eye of the no eyed
ReplyDeleteBlasphemy. Now you are loosing my trust.
@Reach
Dont worry, there is still time till the end of the world. jaja
Enough to prepare yourself at least.
You should forget about the vision. ALL OF IT (jeje, please dont shout at me saying it is impossible, I know the comment might get you mad this far, but please have patience, is just advice). Dont let this feeling consume you. And just remember it until the day it happens.
If it ever happens to you.
I do not think that Humanity will be destroyed.
ReplyDeleteMaybe we will travel to new worlds.
Glad to see your safe, Ray. Try and get out of there before the cops get there, yea?
ReplyDeleteAs expected.
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ReplyDelete