Saturday, April 30, 2011

Everything feels so strange right now. I’m at a hotel, got released from the hospital this morning. Not allowed to go back to my own house yet. It’s still considered a crime scene. On the plus side I was promised that the worst of the mess will be cleaned up before I am able to go back. It was so strange though. It was like they didn’t actually see what happened.

I guess its part of that whole perception filter thing. I never thought I would be using that phrase outside of discussing a Doctor Who episode, but my neighbor was asleep the whole time Tom and I were fighting and the whole time those crows were swarming, but he just happened to wake up after everything was done, look out his window, and see Tom’s body?

The cops too. They didn’t seem to really see what my house looked like. They looked right past the crow feathers scattered everywhere, the fact that every window was shattered, not just the one I had closed on Tom.

But they saw me very well. Covered in blood with a body hanging out a window on the other side of the room. They took me to the hospital and kept trying to question me, which was more then a little ridiculous since my throat was so swollen I could barely breathe, let alone talk. They did love the fact that instead of calling them I sat down and got blood all over my keyboard. Mind you they haven't questioned what I was doing on the computer. But that's ok cause I'm not even sure what possessed me to go the computer first. I think I was just trying to get back any sense of sanity. Blogging is sane. Slamming a window frame full of shattered glass on your ex is not. I was just trying so hard to process what happened, trying to get away from the panic.

But anyway the cops didn't ask what I was doing at the computer. I wonder if this blog is covered under that filter? Well I couldn't answer them anyway, not with my voice shot and my wrist and fingers swollen.  So the doctors pumped me full of steroids and painkillers and my lawyer made them go away until communication was going to be a little easier.

By the time she let them talk to me, things were starting to shape up in my favor. There I was all beaten up again, after having been hospitalized for the same man attacking me only weeks before. My lawyer is completely confident that this will be ruled self defense and on the off chance that it isn’t there is no jury in the world that would convict me with all of the physical evidence there is for me right now.

The steroids gave me my appetite back. I’ve been eating like a horse which is saying a lot when you think about the fact that all I’ve been eating for the past few days is hospital food. And the painkillers I’m on have been knocking me out so I’m starting to catch up on my sleep. I looked at myself today and while I’ve got a good size bruise from where he hit me, my face is starting to look more like a woman then a living skeleton.

It’s the strangest feeling. For the first time in seven years, he’s not hovering over me anymore. Not physically or in my own head. I am battered and bruised, but it doesn’t truly hurt because he can’t hurt me anymore. I’m free.

Morningstar: I usually make it a point to ignore you. Your cartoon villainy makes it impossible to take you seriously, and your sheer fury makes talking with you worthless most of the time. However, I feel I at least owe you a response after the well meant if odd supportive comments you have given me in the past few weeks. So to answer your questions, no. I don’t feel powerful. Or excited. I feel weary. I feel sad that others had to suffer because of him. And I still feel sad for him. I don’t know what happened to him that made him into what he was, but considering the fact that those kinds of damages usually occur in childhood, I doubt he deserved it. I can pity the person he should have been while still being relieved that one of the monsters that killed my godchildren is gone.

Zero: You have got some serious freaking nerve! You send me those pictures, claim ignorance, but then ask for directions to find me? What the hell is your problem?

Rika: You know what go stalk your psycho boyfriend. Maybe then he'll leave me alone. 

Thank you everyone else for the support. You guys are so wonderful and I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you. I don’t think I’ll ever be ok with the fact that this happened, but I’ll get through it. It’ll be nice to go back home in a few days and know that no matter what else happens, he’s never coming for me again.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Shit shit shit shit

It hurts it hurts and he wanted it to be ding dong the witch is dead but it’s not and there’s blood on my hands and blood on my keyboard


Did you know that smacking yourself does actually work for hysteria? Ok took a few deep breathes, good air in, bad air out Kaylin. Trying to type this coherently but my hands are shaking and my mind is racing and the keyboard is getting sticky from the blood and FOCUS KAYLIN FOCUS!

I was sitting in my living room playing with a piece of quartz when the world fucking exploded. What looked like a giant black cloud burst in through my windows, shattering the glass, everything on the first floor of my house looked like it was being swarmed by this cloud.

The cloud started coming towards me and it wasn’t a cloud, it was birds, black birds, crows, so many, dozens of them screaming at me those harsh cawing sounds telling me to run and I did with feathers and beaks flying at my arms. I somehow had enough brains to shove the crystal into my pocket, and then tried to cover my face and make it to the door.

I opened the door and there was Tom. He was smiling and laughing as the crows swarmed around him, but they weren’t touching him they weren’t chasing him they just flew right past him out of my house. And that fucking bastard didn’t even look like he had been injured when Sage beat his ass. No eye patch, no fake eye, and here I am trying to run from a screaming avian nightmare with a pair of fucking cracked ribs courtesy of him. He looked like a monster out of a movie, shadows in his face, the crows surrounding him and I didn’t even think, I just turned and ran, better to run back into the flock of birds then to let him touch me. Well running was the intention at least.

My stupid stupid hair. Because of course I would be grabbed the same fricking way twice. He just reached out and grabbed a handful of it and used it like a rope to pull me out the door. I was screaming and clutching at my scalp trying to keep my hair from coming out at the roots as he dragged me over to him. He pulled me close, letting go of my hair before backhanding me across the face.

I fell on the ground and had a moment to realize the crows weren’t swarming anymore. They were sitting on the fence that separates my property from the house next door. Just sitting and watching, heads tilted and their black eyes reflecting the street lights. I had just enough time to think that they reminded me of the spectators at a gymnastics event, silent and tense, eagerly awaiting the outcome before Tom appeared over me and kicked me in the stomach.

I grabbed at my stomach and wheezed pathetically while he laughed at me. “You actually thought I was going to show up on the day I said I was? God you’re even dumber then I remember you being. This is what happens when you don’t have me to tell you what to do, Kitten. Of course if you had been smart enough to stay with me, none of this would have ever happened to you.”

He pulled out a gun and I felt every muscle in my body go limp. He brought the barrel to my face and used it to trace my cheeks, my nose, my eyes. Like a mockery of the way he used to stroke my face when he told me how much he loved me, that nothing would ever separate us. And remembering the way he used to do that got me so fucking pissed! All of those thoughts I had earlier of just letting him end it were gone. Not after everything he had done to me and the kids. I may not have had a chance at winning against a gun, but I wasn't going to just lay there and let him kill me without a fight.

I grabbed his wrist, dug my nails in hard enough to make him yelp, pulled my mouth to it and bit him as hard as I could. I can almost still taste the blood in my mouth. He yelled and dropped the gun. I grabbed it and somehow managed to get to my feet. I’ve never actually aimed a gun before and just hoped that not everything the movies show you are fake.My hands were shaking so badly I was grateful he's as large as he is. If your hands can't stay still, its probably easier to hit a bigger target.

The bastard looked at me pointing the gun at him and laughed. “Gonna shoot me Kaylin? You aren’t even brave enough to squish a spider and you think-“

The look on his face when I pulled the trigger should have been comical. The absolute shock should have been funny. But the fact that when I pulled the trigger nothing happened except a clicking sound made it anything but.

The shock only lasted for a second and then his face filled with this rage, so much rage I can’t even describe it. “TRY TO KILL ME?” He ran towards me, and grabbed the arm holding the gun, dragging me up on my tip toes to bring the gun to his temple.

“TRY TO KILL ME YOU FUCKING CUNT? THEN KILL ME!” He wrapped his hand around mine, shoving my fingers against the trigger hard enough to bruise them, forcing me to pull it with the result being that same empty clicking sound. “KILL ME!” Click again. “KILL ME!” And again. The fucking gun was completely empty. Bastard bluffed me with an empty gun. Should have known better. He wouldn’t want to use a gun. Not personal enough.

He pulled the gun out of my hand, bending my wrist the wrong way. He smacked me in the throat with the gun which was enough to make my vision go black. Couldn’t have been for too long because when it cleared up I was on the ground. I was dazed and having trouble breathing, but still alive.

He bent over next to me and dragged me up so that I was leaning with my back against his chest. He put a hand on each of side of my neck, with one arm behind it and one in front. The classic snap a neck pose.

Tom brought his lips next to my ear. “It’s time to sleep now Kitten. And once you’re gone next I’ll be going to visit your other friends. What are their names? Valerie and Cathy? I think they would enjoy our games don’t-“

Guess who saw nothing but red the moment he mentioned my friends. Guess who still had a crystal in her pocket? Guess who now had the pointed end of a large piece of quartz buried in his motherfucking eye? I think it might even have been the same one that Sage smacked last time.

He let me go immediately and let out this…howl? Roar? I don’t even know how to describe it, but it didn’t sound fucking human anymore. And that was when I realized that he wasn’t human anymore. Anything left had been taken away by it, by his master.

I had to do something. He was just going to keep coming after me and everyone I loved. I thought about Maggie and Jake. All my fault. He brought them to it to kill them just because he thought it would break me. If I had never brought this man into my life, they might still be alive. No not a man, I thought as I listened to him scream. He was an animal. Only an animal would do this to other people. A rabid animal. I kept chanting it to myself. Rabid animals have to be put down.

He was bent over clutching at his eye not even looking at me. We were right next to some of my ground level windows so I shoved him toward the closest open one. The frame was wrecked from the crow storm, the bottom hanging off, but there were still shards of glass stuck in it. I grabbed the window and slammed it shut on his neck.

He tried to push himself out of the window. He pushed himself off the glass far enough that I could see the blood shining on it in the moonlight. I slammed the window into him again. And again. And again over and over until my hands were bleeding and I was screaming like a bean sidhe with each slam of the frame.

I turned around and saw the crows. They were still staring, watching me give in to the same kind of animalistic rage that I had just put Tom down for. Judging me. They rose into the air and hovered just above my head before taking off and flying down the length of my driveway.

And there it stood at the edge of my driveway, the crows swarming around it. Arms outstretched, faceless head tilted to the side. Staring at me. It raised one of those too long arms and held it out towards me. Like an offer. Or an accusation. And I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for things to be over. I don’t even know who I am anymore.

The crows continued to flock around it, like a giant black cloud until I couldn’t even see it anymore, I couldn’t even tell that they were birds there too many of them just a giant cloud of black. I took a step towards it.

It was like I had broken a spell by moving. The crows scattered in an explosion of feathers and once they were gone, it was no longer there either. I was alone with Tom.

He was dead. He is dead. His body is still just lying across my window. I can see it right now from where I’m typing. I guess I need to decide what to do with it.

I just remembered what a flock of crows is called. A murder. A murder of crows.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

He didn't show

Just what the title says folks. Monday came and went with no sign of Tom. I’m not sure what to think right now. I just keep sitting here playing with my favorite piece of quartz.  I haven’t slept since early Sunday afternoon which is probably making that whole thinking thing even more difficult than normal. I’m hungry, but the idea of eating is making me nauseous. And my hands are shaking so badly that I couldn’t cook anything anyway.

I looked at myself in the mirror earlier. I mean really looked at myself. I’ve got such dark circles under my eyes that they look like those bruises you get when you’ve got a broken nose. I’ve lost weight and I’ve gotten so pale from not going outside anymore. My skin is pulled so tightly against the bones of my face that you would swear my cheekbones are going to cut right through it.

This isn’t living. What would have happened if Tom showed up and I did manage to stop him? It’s only a matter of time until it comes back. I haven’t seen it since the night it killed my godchildren. But I know I’m not free. How can any of us ever be free? I remember the night it grabbed my hair with it's tentacles and how it burned when it brushed against my scalp and it felt so dirty like slime like filth and it took days of showers before I could touch my own hair again without using gloves and how could I bear it if that thing touched me again?

I don’t know if it’s even worth fighting anymore.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

My mother called me today. Wants to know why I won’t come over for Easter dinner. Called bullshit when I said well it’s not my holiday. Pointed out that it’s never stopped me from coming over before. I bullshitted her some more, practically hung up on her. And I realized that if I want to try and keep her safe, I am never going to see my mother again. And then I had a few drinks and that made me think about what other things I am probably not going to live long enough to see or do.

Become a mother
The Doctor Who  50th anniversary
The final book of The Wheel of Time
The new Dark Tower Novel
Kingdom Hearts 3
The next Presidential election
The end of the recession
My dinner date with Cathy
My 31st birthday

Big day tomorrow. Two weeks, right Tom?
Let’s go.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

My attempt at analysis

Ok got the pictures scanned and brought them home on a flash drive. They charge way too much gods be damned money to scan things at Staples, but at least I got it done. Some of them are still going to be hard to see since they’re pencil drawings but here they are. I still don't understand what they mean, but here's what I know so far.

1. The first one is a woman standing in a bedroom. She appears to be holding a diamond or some other kind of gem in her hand. The word "Warned" is written to the left of her.

2. Next we have what appears to be the same woman holding a handful of dirt. The words "Do Not" appear, then a close up of the hand with the dirt starting to slip through the woman's fingers. Finally a close up of her face with...something reflected in her glasses and the words "Do You See" are written under her right eye.

3a. This almost appears to be an Operator symbol. It's a drawn circle, with a cross cut out through it instead of an X.

 3b. But then we get to the other side of the page where there are some kind of...worms with teeth and limbs?

 4. The fourth page shows the woman running from one of the worm things. There is another cut out to the left of the creature, this time creating a rectangle shape.

5. This one is almost definitely Zero's Bleeding Tree. There are two bodies hanging in the branches. A figure, most likely the woman again, stands at the bottom of the page, facing towards the tree. The word "End" is to the right of her.

I still have no idea what to think. But my question still stands. Remnant, how the hell do you know where I live? And we'll add a second question to this post. Since you have made a point of discovering my location, are you planning on adding my arm to your collection?

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

What is this? Just what is this? No not even what, how is this? How is this possible? How am I supposed to even try to handle this right now?

Can't stop crying. Trying very hard to not become hysterical. Way too easy to fall across that line these days and damn it I cannot deal with any of this if I cannot stop crying and screaming, but how am I supposed to deal with this at all?

Ok breathe in, breathe out. One step at a time. Alcohol helps too. Can't let myself get drunk, but a shot to calm the nerves doesn't hurt right? Ok here goes, try to explain this.

A package came for me a few hours ago. Well it would probably be more exact to say that there was a knock on my door and when I went to the window there was no one there. I went to the door while holding one of my good knives from the kitchen and found an envelope sitting on my front stairs.

The envelope had no return address, and the postmark was from somewhere in Texas, but my name and address were very clearly written on the front.  I took pictures just in case things somehow disappear since we all know that never happens to anyone in our line of misery.

This is the back of the envelope. The front can stay hidden since the internet does not need my address.

There were five pieces of paper inside the envelope. Five drawings to be more precise. Well the third one was on the front and back of the page so six drawings I suppose.







I know the picture quality isn't the greatest, but I don't have a scanner. I don't really want to leave the house, but I'll see about going down to the public library to use the scanner there tomorrow.

I have no idea where these came from or why I am getting them. I don't understand what the hell they are supposed to represent. I do however know one thing. I know the drawing style.

I'm going do to my best to stay calm. It's hard for me lately to not scream and shriek at the slightest thing that comes my way. But I really am going to try and stay calm. I can't promise I won't cry, but I will at least try to not flip my shit like I have done with others recently.

Let's start with a very simple question. Remnant. Yes I think I will use Remnant since that is how we first spoke.

Remnant, how did you find out where I live?

Monday, April 18, 2011

My world shrinks further and further

I left the house today for the first time in days. My original intention was just to do some grocery shopping. As much as I don’t want to go anywhere lately, a girl can only live on ramen noodles for so long. But before I actually made it to the store before I knew it, I was driving to my job. My former job.

I resigned today. After almost seven years I quit my job. It’s the right decision, I know it is. I can’t go back to work after all this. I can’t even see my own shadow right now without jumping to hide behind a piece of furniture. And I was a fool to even try to for these past few months. Who the hell can maintain a normal life like this? I should have started running the second I realized this was real. Maybe then they wouldn’t be dead.

I think my boss was relieved that I he didn’t have to fire me. We talked about all the times I’ve called out in the past few months, the multiple personal reasons I couldn’t share with him. At this point he thinks it’s all to do with the ex, is properly sympathetic and horrified that I’ve been stalked and hurt, but at the same point, I can see it. That look in his eyes of relief that I am about to no longer be his problem. 

We worked out a nice little package for me. I get to keep my medical benefits and salary for the next six months in exchange for signing a silly paper stating that I was not in any way shape or form coerced or pressured to leave because of my current “personal difficulties.” Months of terror, stalking, and murder from both natural and supernatural forces summed up with the words "personal difficulties". 

I can understand it though. Between my “changing behavior”, the habitual absences, and the now nearly constant presence of the police who suspect Tom might show up there, I’ve become a detriment instead of an asset. The only reason they didn’t let me go was because how would it look to fire a woman who had been stalked, kidnapped and etc.?

So there goes another piece of me. Since all this started I’ve had to give up my friends, my sleep, a good chunk of my sanity, and now my job. I may not have taken advantage of things as much as I should have, but I had it pretty good. I didn’t go out enough, but I had good friends. I wasn’t rich, but I made enough money to live comfortably. 

Perhaps I’m being ungrateful. I found some very special people in the past few months. But I can’t help it. 

I want my life back.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Oh you rotten bastard. Think you’re going to intimidate me? Your little games don’t work anymore. Got your little love letter, baby. It was just so precious for you to leave that picture of me on the front door. I had no idea you took pictures of our special time together. You think seeing myself like that scares me at this point?

I don’t know what ever made me fear you. You really are pathetic. I’m 5’2” tall and weigh less then you bench press. Being able to beat me up doesn’t make you strong.  It just makes you a bitch. Teaming up with the faceless wonder? That makes you even less than that.

I told you, not scared of you anymore. See that’s the problem when you do your worst to someone, Tommy. There’s nothing left to be afraid of.

You bang on my door, call my phone whispering my name. But you're too much of a coward to come while I'm armed and awake.  The only time you can be near a woman is when you think you have an advantage over her. But you have nothing over me. Never again.

So come on then lover boy. You and me.  Let’s dance.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Not going home today after all, but they’ve promised me that it’ll be tomorrow. I’ve managed to talk with my boss and I’m out on medical leave for the next two weeks. Last week, well I’m not sure what its being covered under, but my boss promised me that being kidnapped will not be subtracted from my vacation days.

The cops from my area finally found out I was here and came to talk to me yesterday. I’ve told them a watered down version of the truth, namely that my ex kidnapped me. Sage had claimed that they found someone beating me up in alley, I just pretended that he had taken me there after  everything else that had happened. My godchildren’s bodies were found near my house, and if I wasn’t in my current condition, I would probably have been arrested. As it stands, my ex is now wanted for what happened to me and is the main suspect in my godchildren’s murders. I know that they’re not gonna find him and it’s useless to even hope, but still it would be nice if they caught him instead of him staying in whatever hole he crawled back into until he’s ready to come at me again.

I have a story to tell and it’s going to be the first time I’ve ever told it other than bare bones details. The few times I’ve had to talk about it, I’ve said as little as possible. We were engaged, he beat me, and I left him. Never thought I needed to say more, but I guess I’ve been rather like an ostrich. Didn’t want to think about him, so I refused to acknowledge all the little clues I had in the past two months that not only was he coming for me, but that he was working for the monster. Denial is a very powerful thing, and I have been full of it. So time to try and put this whole mess down on paper. Or in this case the internet. 

Seven years ago, I was a pretty normal person. A little shy and geeky, but not enough to impede having a social life, in fact the opposite really. I was at friends’ houses for parties or just general hang outs every weekend, large circle of hang out friends, smaller circle of close to my heart friends.  All in all a fairly normal 23 year woman, although my self-esteem was a little low and my shyness made it hard for me to date. 

I met Tom by accident. I was at the grocery store and he accidentally bumped his cart into mine. We started talking, he asked for my phone number and it went from there.  I was beyond flattered.  I’m not an unattractive woman, but I’ve never been the kind of woman that men go out of their way to talk to. We started dating and everything was…not ok for the first six months, but not bad enough for me to realize what it was going to become. He was always controlling, but I never really realized it. If he told me he didn’t want me to wear a certain outfit because of the way I looked in it, I thought it was just because he was jealous. Silly me, huh?

The bad stuff started after we moved in together. Small at first, him screaming at me if the house wasn’t cleaned exactly the way he wanted it, or if dinner was five minutes late because he worked hard all day and why did he have to come home to this?  I worked all day too, but that didn’t matter.  As far as he was concerned it was more important that everything be perfect when he got home.  

I can’t even describe how easily it can get into your head, the idea that everything you do is wrong,that you deserve what is happening. Most people love to hold their heads up high and talk about how they would never let someone manipulate them like that. But I didn’t even realize it was happening. It started so small that by the time he actually hit me, I really did believe I deserved it.

We were together for four years. In that time I went from a fairly well-adjusted woman with a fun life to a terrified victim who could barely speak above a whisper for fear of saying something wrong.  And I wasn’t smart enough or brave enough to leave him on my own. 

My friend came over with my goddaughter. She was only three at the time. We had gone into the kitchen to get some food and left Maggie with Tom.  I didn’t think anything of it until we heard a crack and Maggie screamed. 

I don’t even know why he hit her. He should have realized that other people wouldn’t just stand there like me. Her mother took one look at the red mark on her girls face and flipped out. Was threatening to call the police, threatening to gut him, you name it. I convinced her to take Maggie and leave. He was furious at me. How dare I let my friend speak to him like that? Why wasn’t I loyal to him? Everyone question punctuated with another kick or punch. 

At the end of it he told me to clean up the “god damned mess” and went to bed. I lay on the floor for a while. And I thought about what would happen if we had children. I had always assumed that his beatings were just for me because I wasn’t good enough. I got up and looked at my engagement ring. There was blood smeared on the diamond. I took it off and I left the apartment. I had nothing, literally. The bank accounts were in his name, the cars, everything. I went to my grandmother’s house and she took me in, gave me a chance to start over.  And I spent the last three years trying to take my life back. When he wouldn’t leave me alone I got a restraining order against him. I hadn’t heard from him at all after that. Well until all this. 

Something that he made sure I knew was that everything he was doing to me last week was revenge for having the nerve to leave him. For humiliating him in front of his friends and family. For getting the restraining order. 

I almost pity him. He was a fucking asshole, but our favorite stalker has warped him into something else. Now he’s just a big of a monster as his master. However, pity isn’t going to stop what I have to say next.
I want you dead. I would have been completely content with spending the rest of my life without seeing you again. But you chose to ally with that monster. You gave my godkids to that thing. And you know what you did to me. So I’m done being your victim. Come near me again and see what happens. 

Anyone that even thinks about coming after me and mine again…try it and see. I’m done being anyone’s victim.

Friday, April 1, 2011

This is probably the thirteenth or fifteenth time I've started trying to type this post. There's so much that has happened in the past week I don't even know where to start. I guess I'll go with the simplest parts first.

I'm hurt pretty bad, but it's nothing permanent. Exposure, dehydration, some malnutrition, blood loss, two cracked ribs, second degree burns, bruises, and cuts and punctures that don't need stitches. Whatever he was injecting me with and making me drink is mostly out of my system, but I'm not totally detoxed yet so if there's any spelling or grammar errors here I'll try to clean them up later. The blood tests came back with a fun cocktail of things that included Ketamine and Rohypnol. He kept telling me that it was for my own good, that he would rather not have to tie me down to make me stay still-

There's a lot of things in my life that I don't talk about. I don't want to talk about him, I don't want to remember him. But maybe to quote Cathy, "It's time to talk." I'll make a second post about that later though. For now I just want to deal with the past week, not the past few years.

So I left the house Friday night and went to my backyard. The proxy stood there with my goddaughter still pointing that knife at her. I put my hands out to show that they were empty and then a pair of arms came around from behind me. And oh fuck me, but I knew those arms. Until my favorite stalker came into my life, those arms belonged to the worst nightmare of my life.

My ex fiance, Tom Halloran, wrapped one arm around my chest and used the other one to wrap his hand around my throat.  "Hello Kitten. I've missed you."

I froze. I stopped being able to think and it was like the past three years of freedom has disapeared and I was back there again his pet his Kitten his property-

His hand stroked my throat and then tightened, not hard enough to stop me from breathing, but enough to make it difficult. "We have so much catching up to do." He moved his hand away from my throat and brought some kind of cloth up to my mouth. It smelled sweet and my vision started to blur. The last thing I saw before everything went dark was the monster reapearing and it, oh fuck it tore her head off of her body, my poor sweet Maggie my little baby girl I just keep hoping it didn't hurt that she wasn't able to feel it and that her and Jake don't hate me wherever their souls ended up.

I can't talk about what he did to me. I know that there's a lot of things I need to start talking about, but the things he did during the past week are not it. I think it's more then enough to tell you that he drugged me and he hurt me. I remember him putting a laptop in my hands at one point and telling me to let the world know what happens when you defy "The Great One" and I remember trying to tell him to fuck off but I couldn't make my tongue work right because there were so many drugs and I couldn't make my words work correctly I just slurred everything so I tried to type and I told him in my typing that how much I hated him and that he couldn't take away everything I had done without him and oh how he hated that! He hated that I made a good life after I left him and that he couldn't break me.

You hear that you fucking bastard? I know you're watching this blog and you did not fucking break me! I may be small and I may be weak but you didn't break me! My friends may have had to save me because I wasn’t strong enough to save myself, but you were not enough to break me you miserable piece of shit!

I was a reward. Tom said being able to play with me before it was time for me to be killed was his reward from his master. That he had been waiting for three years to have his chance to get back at me and his master had made it possible. Tom was a bastard before I left him, now he's worshipping a creature that turned him from a bastard into a monster. Tom spent a lot of time telling me about how that thing had opened his eyes, that he didn't need to be bound by society's morals anymore.

Apparently I was supposed to die today. That was the limit Tom said he been given, that our time would end today and I would go to "meet my fate at The Great One's feet." So here's to still being alive, eh?

So my rescue. I've seen a few people questioning the way I was rescued, the morality, the validity, and the sanity of it. My answer is I just don't know. The things that they say they did are incredible almost beyond belief, yet they got me out. I'm alive right now and I shouldn't be. Yes I'm a witch, but I've tried to make it very clear that I don't have any kind of extraordinary powers. I just wanted to try and use my beliefs the same way someone might use a cross against a vampire. However I do want to remind everyone that our faceless monstrosity does have the ability to cause group hallucinations like the revenants. So were their stories correct? I don't know and I don't really care. At the end of all of this, they risked their lives to save me. That makes them family in my book.

I do remember some things about the rescue. Like the scissors. I have very thick long curly hair. Said hair tends to get very very tangled if I'm not careful with it. So by the time I snagged them, my hair was pretty much one stiff solid mass of tangle that was made even stiffer by all the dried blood in it. I had waited for one of the times Tom left the room. I guess he figured I was too hurt and drugged at that point to move more then an inch or so. But he underestimated two things. How much I hated him and how much I was not going to let him give me to his master. So I managed to crawl off the cot, got a pair of scissors off of his "toy table", and with my hair being such a solid mass at that point when I shoved the scissors in there, they actually stayed put. Tom came back while I was still crawling back to the cot and he made sure I "paid for my disobedience", but it never occurred to him that I might have actually gotten a weapon. Even before skinny shit drove him mad, he never believed I was capable of doing anything that he didn't allow me to do. All I knew at that point was that I wasn’t going to let him have a chance to present me to it. That the next time he left the room, I was going to use those scissors to give myself the only escape that I thought was still possible.

That...morning, night, I have no concept of what time it was or how long I was there other then seeing the dates of my blog posts, Tom was giddy. Told me that people were being dumb enough to try and find me and that it would make the games so much more fun, that I needed to see more people die because of me. He grabbed me and I was so terrified he was going to grab my hair and drag me around with it, instead he wrapped his arm around my waist and just kind of let me dangle there while he faced the door and held his knife up to my throat, waiting for whoever my mysterious rescuers were.

I laughed a little when they came crashing in from behind us. I didn't have enough to energy to actually make any noise, but them getting around the trap was so perfect. So much for his big preparations. I managed to take a look at who was there and I had no idea who they were, I just knew that they looked so young and these two kids could not be allowed to die for me, no one else was going to die because of me damn it!

I pulled the scissors out from my hair and my laughing turned into crying as I shoved them as hard as I could into his arm. He dropped me on the floor and the guy that I later found out was Sage went at him. The girl that I later found out was Hakurei came over to me. She says she healed me a little bit and again I don't know. I remember panicking when she first came over to me. Logically I knew that whoever she was, she was there to help, but for just a minute I forgot and thought she was going to hurt me-

I remember being terrified that if I didn't make myself start moving I was going to lose any chance I had of getting out of there. I was so drugged up and in so much pain that for a minute I couldn't get my legs to move and when they did start working I was so excited I wanted to shout but I couldn't even catch my breath enough to say thank you when she helped me up and got me on her back.

The rest is just a blur. Hakurei says I spent most of it passed out and I believe her. I have little snippets of memory here and there of us moving through these dark hallways and hearing whimpers and moans but I didn't know if I was the one making them and I remember having blankets tucked around me and a hand stroking my hair and my forehead and a voice saying its ok, you're safe now and it just felt so good to be warm and have a hand touch me that wasn't going to cut me and I believed that voice I really was safe.

Sorry about your coat Hakurei. I'll buy you a new one when the doctors lets me go home which right now looks like it might Sunday.

Thank you both. So much.

Noland apology accepted. We can talk later if you want. I saw the comments you guys left for me and I love you all so much. Except for the fake redlight and the evil zombie proxy who randomly started commenting here.

I'm really tired and I'm still hurting pretty bad. I'm gonna close my eyes for a little bit.