Ghost Town Part 2

For a split second, I saw through the illusion that Sam had apparently been projecting to their ashy grey skin, blackened fingers and black sclera. Then, as quick as it dropped, the illusion came back. They tilted their head. "Ah yes. I remember. First time I had been out of the Castle since my death, and I was still very out of sorts." They smirked "Holding that against me seems a little rude. Coming back from the dead isn't nearly as easy a process as certain TV shows make it appear, my dear. The only thing I succeeded with on that day was making sure Luke failed in his goals. Which is also something that you support, yes? Stopping him from butchering your puppeteer before you can? Also, as an aside, I burned if you do recall. Not exactly painful, but I very bizarre sensation that I didn't particularly like. I don't class it as a good day." They shifted their gaze to the waves and shrugged. "Leon did not have to be in danger. Even then, I'd made the offer to your ex-master. All she had to do was come quietly, and I would have taken back everything I'd influenced. He could have walked away without even a stuffy nose. But that's not her style, is it?"

I was pissed at their attitude, like I was supposed to be happy that they stopped that goopy fucker when they only did it because they wanted to take the Wolf themself. That last question forced me back to what the Wolf did to me and the community though. I looked at the nearby houses, and then to the ground. “No.” I growled, quietly. “I guess it’s not…” I closed my eye against the pain for a moment. “Bitch has never been good at letting go.” I muttered, before looking at Sam again.

"...The slaughter of this town isn't your fault, my dear." They looked back to me as it let one leg drop down while bending the other up so they could rest their arm across the knee. "This... Temper tantrum is just the desperate thrashing of a narcissist trying to make their dog come to heel again. But you..." they smiled at me and looked me up and down. "You've done so well. She had destroyed you, Kristy. She reduced you to nothing and put you back together how she wanted. To react how she wanted. Her perfect little puppet. Perfect little ragdoll. And all you had to do from then on was... Play your part. You had every reason to. But you couldn't, could you...?" Their expression slipped, showing a hint of disgust. "Did you know that Spencer used to tell me he loved me as he tore me apart? There was this... I don't even know what to call it. Bickering. That we did at the beginning of working together. Bantering. It was more or less my typical behaviour, but with him it somehow morphed into... More. Perhaps it was because no one ever challenged him, and I had a bad habit of opening my big mouth. I... Caught and kept his attention. I remember... Once we were at a park. He was on one of his typical egotistical mastermind ramblings and he had a toddler on his knee. Only Satan would know where he got it, but I can still distinctly remember taking the toddler from him while making one of my typical partly-mocking remarks. I don't even remember what the comment was, but he got mad this time. Got in my face. The child started crying and what the hell was the first snarky thing that came from my mouth? 'This is why we could never have one of our own.' Makes me sick just to think about now, but I honestly believed at the time that such comments would keep him off balance. Instead, he just leaned into it. Turned my own game against me.

He'd torture me for what would feel like years at a time, and then he'd stroke my hair and call me his. His own. And the worst part was that I began to desperately crave those single moments. Where the world stopped tearing apart and he'd be my anchor for a few seconds. I'd cling to his shirt and... Sometimes I'd beg him to just kill me... Other times I'd tell him I'd do anything he wanted... But, regardless, he'd just press his hand over my eyes, and it would start all over again. I don't even recognize myself in those memories. It feels like... I'm on the outside. Watching it happen. Watching it repeat and repeat and repeat..." They let out a very long breath, looking extremely fucking uncomfortable before continuing. "Sound familiar...? Spencer and that bitch of yours... They're peas in a pod. They don't love. They own. That's why she said... she'd keep you if she won your showdown, Kristy. That's why she couldn't take the deal to protect Leon... But I am hoping that you might be willing to."

“I did play the part though,” I responded. “For eight fucking years. I loved and defended her and justified everything she did. She only did what she had to, right?” I raked a hand through my hair in agitation. “If she didn’t break me, we’d both probably be dead, so she was really saving me when she drugged me, sent a serial killer after my sister, carved symbols into me, tore my fingernails out, beat me, stuck me full of needles and forced me to write shit for her fucking readers to comment on!” My voice was full of rage and pain as the words spilled out. I couldn’t stop myself and I hated it. I hated breaking down in front of Sam, not just because of how fucking vulnerable it made me, but because if what they were saying was true, what they had lived through was way fucking worse than what I did. “The only reason I stopped is because that bandaged ball sucker tried to mindfuck me and made me relive all that shit. If that hadn’t happened, I’d still be with her right now!” I shuddered at that thought as well as the idea of being forced back into that role if the Wolf won. “So, it’s not like I snapped out of it on my own.” 

"It's called Stockholm Syndrome, my dear." Their expression was... almost soft. "An uneven power dynamic. Abuse. Isolation. It's a tale as old as time, and as damaging as it ever was. It's as close to brainwashing as you can get without sticking a toe in Pseudoscience. Even beyond that... It is not your responsibility to feel guilt on behalf of those incapable of it. You look around at these buildings, and that's all you can think about, isn't it? Knowing who is guilty of the act isn't enough. You think these people deserve to have someone feel guilty for their obliteration. So you take that on. You..." They trailed off. Frowning, they moved as though to stand, but seemed to think better of it and shifted on the rock instead. Both feet were on the ground now, with their elbows resting on their knees and the saxophone loosely gripped in their hands. "You need to stop protecting her, Kristy. You need to look at the blood splatter in these forgotten rooms and see it for the lie it is. She didn't do this because you hurt her feelings, and this is some bizarre mental break. She did this because she knew it would hurt you, and that's how she had always controlled you before. It's that simple."

Sam wasn’t the first to tell me that what the Wolf did wasn’t my fault, but this was the first time I actually believed it. I guess hearing it from someone who had also been broken helped me to finally accept it. If the Wolf really cared, she wouldn’t have threatened to keep me. That shit proved that she was more concerned with control than anything else. The Wolf had said that what happened to this community was her responsibility alone, but now it seemed more likely that that was bullshit and she had really done this as another control tactic. That realization made me feel angrier than ever, but also… better. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. But as grateful as I was for that, I couldn’t let it cloud my judgement when it came to Hart.

“Back to what you said about protecting Hart… Isn’t the disease bird after his ass too, now that he’s… like the Wolf?” I asked.

"The Doctor only needs one, especially if we do it my way. If everything goes according to plan... Your ex-master will give us all the data we need. You don't need to 'drink the Kool-Aid' with our particular band, and Leon can walk away. I admit, the oathbreakers are fond of having multiple specimens, but they know better than to cross me. It won't be a problem. The Doctor himself won't care so long as we get results. It's not like these two are the first mutants we've seen that affect his Slenderness. David was one, of course. Certain revenants before that. It's rare, I admit, but not unheard of. Therefore, there's no need for both. Leon can continue destroying himself all he wants and attract what that may. Perhaps he'll even get a visit from the Rake one day, but he won't have to be concerned about disease. Least... No disease from us. I am not chasing his ass around curing every cancer spawned by modern day life."

I thought it over for bit.  “Look,” I said finally, “I’m thankful for the advice and the healed sores, and it’s been nice talking to you, Sam, but if the oathbreakers and your boss get their hands on the Wolf, they’ll probably get access to her dimension too. Even with your promises, I don’t like the idea of handing the keys to Hart’s fucking home to the Plague Doctor and his whole squad. I can’t trust that he won’t eventually decide to stick his beak in, or that one of the oathbreakers won’t decide to risk it for their own interests. If you get enough people together, there will usually be at least one overreaching shitstain in the group, so I think I’m going to have to say no.” At that, I started backing away.

"Hn…So be it." They said before standing up. The illusion fell away with the motion. Again, I saw the ashy skin and their black sclera. Their fingers stretched out to become a steel gauntlet on their left arm. Each finger was bladed and dripping with some sour shit that came from the cracks in the armor. A black trench coat fell into place around them, over top a black shirt, black pants, and black boots, laced tight. They were still holding the saxophone which was the only normal thing about them at that point. They smiled while a cry came from the roof of a nearby building. Two fucking ravens swooped in and landed on their shoulders. The birds didn’t look right, like they were… ghosts or some shit. "Just remember, darling, that I gave you the choice." Sam gave a showy bow, and the ravens flapped their wings. "From one survivor to another, I wish you all the best in your efforts to butcher your ex-master. As a servant of the Doctor, however... Well, you might want to get on that sooner rather than later. Lest we get to them first and you lose your shot, my dear. I assure you, the last thing you want to do is get in my way. Unlike when I was alive... My strength is no longer just limited to my sheer stubbornness.”

“Right…” I muttered as I backed up a few more steps before daring to turn away- heading to my car while looking over my shoulder to make sure they weren’t following.

"You take care now, Kristy.” They called out “And don't worry about the advice. We'll just call it a solid 'you owe me' for down the line, shall we? Happy hunting." And then they were gone. The ravens were left behind, but soon flew off.

I got my ass back to my car as quick as I could and drove the fuck out of there. 

Gotta say, I wasn't expecting a fucking pep talk from Outbreak of all people, but it helped. I have no doubts anymore. I know I'm ready to face the Wolf. 

Now there's only one thing left to do before I call her.

Ghost Town Part 1

I’ve been thinking about this shit for a while since it happened, but I finally decided to sit my ass down and type it out.

I needed to see it. I needed to see the little community that the Wolf had fucking destroyed. I needed to test myself to make real fucking sure that I was mentally prepared to face her. I guess I was also hoping for some kind of closure too.

Thanks to a mild, rainy streak of weather, the fucking snow had finally melted enough so I could actually drive to the community. Parking my car on the shoulder of the one main road that ran through it, I got out and looked around. Unsurprisingly, the place was completely fucking silent except for the rolling waves of the ocean next to it. I saw that two of the houses had broken windows and another had been tagged with graffiti. It looked like some dipshit thrill seekers wanted to go see the spot where the whole population, all fifty of them, suddenly up and disappeared one night. I guess it’s not that surprising since this shit was in and out of the news so fucking quick. They had reported that no bodies were found, but the cops suspected foul play, and then that was the last anyone heard, so of course that kind of mystery is going to make some people want to look.

Anyway, I picked a house and went to check it out. The door was unlocked so I let myself in. The windows let in enough light so that I could clearly see the footprints, boot prints, dirt and some smears of old dried blood on the floor. Wandering through the place I quickly found the fucking bedrooms. The first one had a single bed in it with a moldy mattress that was covered in blood, just like the walls and the floor. I immediately felt a pang of guilt and anger and it got way fucking worse when I saw the second one. It had pink walls and two twin sized beds. This was the kids’ room, and it was as much of a mess as the other. I hoped that the Wolf had been fast and quiet enough, that they never woke up. That they didn’t have to hear their parents die, only to see a fucking blood soaked stitched up monster crawling into their room to eat them next. I staggered back out of the room, leaning against a wall before closing my eye and gripping my fucking head as what happened to them played out in my mind. I knew what the Wolf had done, but actually being there… My guts turned and I found myself running back outside, feeling like I was going to throw up. I kept thinking that it was my fault. I hurt the Wolf by venting on the blog, and she took that hurt out on these people, these children. I don’t know how long I stood there, taking in deep breaths of the clear, cold air but when I finally calmed down enough, I realized I was hearing something other than my own breathing and the waves- a sound that abso-fucking-lutely should not have been there.

Music

It was coming from somewhere behind the buildings across the road. I was immediately on edge. My first instinct was to get back to my car and GTFO, but I didn’t. If someone was going to attack me, why wouldn’t they have jumped my ass as soon as I left the house? Why would they just randomly start playing the fucking saxophone?

That got me curious enough to ignore my gut and check it out. Following the sound across the road and past the houses, I saw a person sitting on one of a few boulders by the shore. They looked like a drifter with their faded black hoodie, jeans with torn out knees and army boots that weren’t laced properly. Since their hood was down, I could see that they had greying auburn hair. They seemed lost in their music, swaying as they played. It had a sad sound to it, but it was nice.   

"... I was never any good at endings, unfortunately." They said once they finished their song. Shifting the saxophone to rest on their lap, they glanced at me with their grey eyes and gave me a slight smile. “Hopefully it was still enjoyable. It has been a long time. I feel a little rusty."        

“Yeah, that was really fucking good.” I blurted, feeling thrown off by the whole situation. It was true though. I don’t usually listen to that kind of music, but I could still tell that they played it well. Then it hit me that I kind of just showed up and interrupted. “Sorry… I didn’t mean t-”  I broke off before awkwardly scratching my neck and starting again. “I’m just surprised to see someone else out this way…” I glanced around, trying to spot anyone or any hint of a trap, but I didn’t see shit.  

“So, uh, what brings you all the way out here?” I asked. This place was way too isolated for some random drifter to be passing through, so they must have purposely come here. Either they were sent to find me, they were a squatter and were living out here, or they knew one of the people the Wolf killed and were trying to get some kind of closure themself. I really fucking hoped it wasn’t that last one.

"Thank you, my dear. Don't fret the language,” they said, “it's not like either of us have virgin ears." I guess they thought I was apologizing for swearing instead of interrupting. They shifted around on the boulder to face me more directly, before crossing their legs. "But to answer your question... well-" they gave a short laugh before continuing "-it's a rather long story that's equal value a trail of mistakes as much as it is keeping just enough luck to make it to another day. Until I didn't." They tilted their head "Your instincts are spot-on, as someone in your position tend to be. I won't lie and say they aren't. Although I know you haven't the slightest of reasons to trust me, I give you my word that I am not here to fight or kidnap you or any some such nonsense. I may not be a proxy anymore... or particularly human anymore.... but I am still a servant of my word. In fact, I'll do you one better: while we chat, you can consider yourself under my wing. If any of the idiots that pass as Slender-fuck's monkeys come running around, I'll take care of them for you. Free of charge." They gave me another faint smile "My name is Sam. My alias was once Sam Freeman, but there's no reason to use that anymore. My real name - back when I had a real life - was Sam Redmond. I was active as a proxy many.... many years ago. I doubt it's familiar to you."

From their appearance and voice, I couldn’t tell whether they were a man, or a woman and the name didn’t fucking help either. Something about them seemed sort of familiar but I couldn’t place it. Since they had given me their name, though, I decided to give mine. “My name is Kristy, but I’m guessing you probably already knew that, so if you’re not here to take me then why? If you’re not the Tailor’s bitch anymore, then who sent you? People don’t usually come to me just for a fucking conversation. That was always the Wolf’s thing.”

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kristy. I'd shake your hand, but I've a sneaking suspicion that you'd rather I stay fused to this rock," they smirked. "Lucky for you, I had the gift of gab in life. Admittedly I did lose it for a while, but apparently you can only go so far insane before you get bored of the mania and start ricocheting in the other direction. In any case... You asked 'why' and my leash holder, yes...?" their gaze shifted back to the waves for a moment."... Revenge, in a word. That's the why." Their tone became sharp. "...I had a deal with Tall, Dark and Creepy, you see. A very simple deal. When I died, he seemingly deemed our contract null and void. Apparently, he didn't anticipate the Plague Doctor putting Humpty Dumpty back together again” They snarled, looking back to me. "The Black King has sat on his throne far too long. He must be torn down. Thankfully, my new patron has a similar goal. They've actually batted it back and forth for centuries, but if I am to be this immortal wretch, then I think I'd like to use it to show 'Slenderman' that he shouldn't have given me a reason to give a damn again. Or I'll destroy myself trying. Not like I haven't made that gamble before." They paused for a moment, then continued "I'd like your help, my dear. And I think my plan might just fit nicely into your own desire for revenge against... Well. Someone else.”

At the mention of the disease bird, I took a step back. Sam didn’t move to follow me though, so I stopped there and decided to keep talking. “You’re not the first person to come to me with a revenge deal, you know.” I said, running a hand through my hair. “The Tailor sent a couple of proxies to try to get me to serve again, promising to give me a place to stay while I got ready to kill the Wolf,” I laughed. “As if I’d agree to work for the cocksucker who ordered her to fucking break me. As if I’d be fucking stupid enough to trust any offer from him again.” I was getting agitated as I went on. “But your boss didn’t exactly give me a reason to think he’d be any better.” I pulled my sleeve back, showing some of the gross itchy sores that had developed from the blisters that the disease bird had stuck me with. “So as much as I’d love to see the Tailor get fucked too, why should I help you? Why should I trust you and your plan anymore than those proxies?”

Sam looked at the sores, seeming to get distracted for a second. Then they inhaled deeply and focused on them. Closing their eyes, they slowly reached an arm towards me. Nothing happened at first, but then the itching stopped, and the sores started to shrink and fade away. For a moment, they reappeared on Sam before sinking into their skin.

“...Thanks…” I said after getting over my shock.

They opened their eyes and nodded. "That should offer you some relief, my dear. My strength is nowhere near his, of course, but... well. He isn't here right now, is he? The Plague Doctor is..." They gave a weak smirk and scoffed "...Well, Disease sucks. You could be a fairy that farts rainbows, but you'd still be a dick if your main gimmick was spreading disease. It's his nature; his domain. He's certainly not a benevolent being, but... he is better than The Stranger, in my opinion. If only because I have the unique perspective of having served under both." Frowning they seemed to, struggle with something before laughing and shaking their head.

"...You know, my old allies would be slacked jawed and probably very jealous of you right now. There were days that I think David would have given his left hand to get a straight answer out of me. Luke would probably just assume I'm some sort of doppelganger - he never did well with change. Phillip might have wanted to try an exorcism. I've played the games - the mistrust and deception and mind-fuckery - and quite honestly, it's all a little too much ego for my liking anymore. After everything I've experienced... I suppose I'm just over it. I... gave everything I was to the Slenderman. I was good to my word. I did everything he wanted. Every whim. I never complained about the whispers, the insomnia, the night terrors, the blood that I could never clean off... I never even complained when he'd just... show up. Take possession of me like some anorexic puppetmaster and send me off under his will. I'd wake up somewhere I didn't recognize, typically covered in blood, usually injured, and with no memory of what happened. Just a very horrible headache and sometimes with someone actively trying to kill me out of some revenge for something I supposedly did. I did it. I was... his. His humble servant. And I won't lie. I found beauty in the work. I found things I could enjoy. After all, you have to find reasons to smile, hm? Lest you join the chorus of tormented screams in the darkest hour of night..."

Their shoulders lowered slightly. "I thought I had earned... his favour, somewhat. Or at least I was keeping neutral. But it didn't matter. When I made a bet, I was doomed to lose, another puppet-master stole me away from myself. From my station. From my service from Him. You'd think he would have been annoyed, hm? Someone else playing with his toy? Someone else BREAKING his toy? Tearing their mind apart with little red strings invading every thought and memory. Red strings that broke the toy so deeply, so thoroughly... that they couldn't even function anymore because they couldn't trust what version of reality they were sitting in in that moment. Every second was another panic attack. They had spent years being the nightmare for Slenderman's runners... and then they were..." Their voice trailed off. "...I hurt my friends by not trusting them. I never wanted that. But fear turns you selfish. It distorts everything until you believe the most... idiotic things..."

They pushed their sleeves up, revealing nasty, wide scars that went from the base of their palms to their elbows. "...Word to the wise: How you die seems to get kind of stuck on you. So I have to wear these badges of my own cowardice for eternity now. But, I suppose, I shouldn't be complaining. My soul and mind were both equally wrecked. I had hoped that death would bring... such nothing. An endless black. That's what I had wanted. I had failed to pay enough attention to the blackened sore that never healed on my chest. Plague's mark. I hadn't known it, but there was only one place I was going in death: The Crumbling Castle. I was... out of my mind. With grief, with fear, with all of it. I thought I was going to get experimented on again, but... I wasn't. Instead, I was..."

They seemed to struggle for the right words. "...The strings of Spencer Fitzgerald had run deep. There was damage beyond damage that Plague... seemed to treat as though it was a mental illness. Which I suppose is accurate enough. It was... agonizing. Torturous. At first, I thought it was just a new hell. It took me embarrassingly long to even notice that the tangled wires in my mind beginning to unwind. That I could think better. Clearer. Each time, I could feel less and less of him."

I was surprised by a genuine smile on their face as their eyes settled on me again. 

"He saw use for me. So he fixed me. He pulled all the red strings out and gave me the Castle to freely roam. For a while, my mind did strange things. I spoke in third person. I was... nearly robotic for a while. The mind is a funny thing, how it tries to protect itself after being so traumatized. But, day by day, I reclaimed myself, with his help. Nowadays... I have duties, yes. There are certain Expectations. The oathbreakers have come to call me 'Outbreak'. I guess they didn't like my old 'Nightscream' title. Probably to do with that old cult town incident that I had looped David into helping me with. But, in any case, Plague mostly allows me to do as I wish now. A unliving fuck you to his Slenderness, if you will. He fixed the toy that the Stick didn't give a second glance to. He fixed me. And while I know this is just... words for you. I do believe that just my existence here before you - speaking as clearly as I am - is nothing short of a miracle that proves Plague can be reasoned with. Perhaps even worked with. If you need more... I am an open book. Ask away. There is nothing left worth hiding anymore."

I had been listening quietly as they spoke, wincing at the mention of the strings and the sight of their scars. I could fucking relate thanks to the Wolf. I thought of how she tore me the fuck apart and how she made me love her so much that I wanted to die rather than live without her. While I knew that Sam could just be bullshitting to manipulate me, I still felt like I should say something. “What you went through sounds fucking awful,” I offered, “I’m sorry you got fucked up like that. It’s bullshit, and I know how it feels.”  I would have said more but that’s when the name clicked in my head and I realized just who the fuck I was talking to. “Wait… Outbreak? You’re the one that attacked the Wolf and Hart, aren’t you?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. “Hart is like a brother to me, and you nearly fucking killed him.” I growled

It’s been a while since my last walk

and my last post. Wolf and I have been working on some stuff like building up our island here, adding rock formations and a large forest, among other things.     

Last night though, I finally felt the urge to head out.  

It was snowing when I stepped out into a city, but I didn’t mind. I don’t get cold like I used as a human, so I was comfortable while walking around, enjoying the sensation of the flakes falling on me and the crunching sound of my footsteps through the snow on the ground. That was until another noise caught my attention. I turned a corner to see that, further up the street, a man and a woman had gotten out of a car and were in the middle of a very one-sided fight. The man was swearing, threatening and insulting the crying woman as he dragged her towards, what I’m guessing, was their house.

“Hey! Leave her the fuck alone, dude!” I called out as I walked towards them.

The guy let her go before stomping towards me until he was in my face.

“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business?” he snarled.

“Or what? You’re gonna make me?” I said with a smirk.

He backed off like he was about to turn and walk away, only to suddenly take a swing at me. His punch was wide and clumsy, so I easily caught his fist in my hand, driving my claws into his flesh.

He cried out and tried to hit me with his free hand, but that didn’t work out any better for him.

I let my hands separate from my arms at the wrist before slowly turning them.

“Stop- STOP!” he yelled as he tried to pull away before sinking to his knees in pain. His hands, still caught in mine, were forced to turn along with them until his wrists snapped.

His screams were music to my ears. I was so absorbed by the sound and the scent of his blood, that I was caught by surprise when something hit the back of my head. Releasing his hands as I shoved him to the ground, I spun around, only to have to stop myself before my claws hit the woman. While I was focused on the dude, she had apparently circled around and hit me with her purse, trying to save his ass.

She gasped and flinched back but was otherwise frozen in fear.

“You should go inside.” I growled, pointing to the house.

“P-please don’t kill him” her voice was almost a whisper.

“Go inside” I repeated. “Now.”

She stood there for a few seconds, seeming unsure of what to do before finally backing away and running to the door. Turning my attention back to the groaning asshole, I saw that he was trying to get up. Lifting my shirt, I exposed my, now open, belly mouth. He tried to scream again, but it was cut off as a tentacle shot out of it, wrapping around his neck, before pulling him in. One bite later, he was dead.