tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63493621404053500642024-03-13T13:27:38.464-05:00It's Your Very Own...!Gotta Make Me Some HolesShilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-73263119317050276902011-07-17T04:01:00.000-05:002011-07-17T04:01:34.711-05:00storytimeThey're both dead. Shiloh, Grant. Killed the other kid too. Killed his cousin.<br />
<br />
I am enigmatic.Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-67990279239222894772011-06-29T10:32:00.001-05:002011-06-29T10:32:00.376-05:00I miss you, Shiloh<span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-family: courier new;">The journey begins</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Starts from within</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Things that I need to know</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">The song of the bird</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Echoed in words</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Flying for the need to fly</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Thoughts endless in flight</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Day turns to night</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Questions you ask your soul</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Which way do I go?</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">How fast is too slow?</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">The journey has its time within us</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">If a man can fly over an ocean</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">And no mountains can get in his way</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Will he fly on forever</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Searching for something to believe</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">From above I can see from the heavens</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Down below I see the storm rages on</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">And somewhere in the answer</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">There is a hope to carry on</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">When I finally return</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Things that I learn</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Carry me back to home</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">The thoughts that I feed</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Planting a seed</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">With time will begin to grow</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">The more that I try</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">The more that I fly</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">The answer in itself will be there</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">. . .</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-59014981582186333962011-02-25T01:30:00.001-06:002011-02-25T01:35:29.773-06:00IdiotThis kid would be fucking dead without me.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>He's a tricky little fucker, that guy.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I'm not going down as easy as Shiloh.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I'll be taking over from here on out, I'll keep this little shrimp away from the blog until he stops flipping the fuck out every time the clock goes a minute past 5PM.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The only thing we have in common is dead families(buried. its amazing what you can fail to mention) and the guy.</div><div>He always seemed to like Shiloh better than me. One more reason to kill that fucker.</div><div>Both of them, really.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Shiloh was just a bad guy in general, though. Remember when he kept putting off saying what "really" went down while he was hollowed? Because he wasn't ever going to. I found his stupid fucking journal. 26 tallys, 26 kids personally buried. Yeah Shiloh, just keep telling yourself that you only helped kill 12. You know how much goddamn stabbing you did, the mutilation. All of the other hollowed you saw, too. You were just TOO brutal. Look at yourself now. </div><div>The kid couldn't take that on his conscience. He had no fucking clue what to do about ANYTHING at that point. Just saying whatever dumb fucking pointless shit came to mind. Fucking murderer. I have no idea what you were trying to do after you got back. "Feels good to get that off my chest"<br />
<br />
Shut the fuck up you fucking liar.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Time to get a fucking grip on the goddamn situation.<br />
<br />
Oh, and Danny and Shannon?<br />
Nice work fucking their lives up.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-576428124764568082011-02-25T01:14:00.002-06:002011-02-25T01:14:41.067-06:00i see a big black dog big black dog big black dog big black dog<br />
<br />
kill me kill me kill meShilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-48070622239141056592011-02-05T23:21:00.000-06:002011-02-05T23:21:33.800-06:00HahaShiloh is a total fucking moron.<br />
<br />
Don't worry, I'll get him there safe.<br />
<br />
<br />
"i give up, i give up"<br />
<br />
What a fucking wimp. Can't take a little cold?<br />
Tell me boy, are you COLD?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
You guys need'nt worry about the kid.<br />
He won't be bothering you guys for much longer, and we can all move on with our lives.Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-40461834420368064642011-01-31T17:33:00.000-06:002011-01-31T17:33:29.237-06:00sssssssssssssssssI am no longer a sane man.<br />
<br />
<br />
i want to go home<br />
<br />
<br />
i give up<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
come get meShilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-58319166448460841542011-01-23T01:46:00.001-06:002011-01-23T01:46:57.949-06:00Sweet DarknessMy phone died. Thank god there's a computer here. Someone contacted me a bit ago and I met up with her. She's sick. <br />
<br />
She was in the area, we have the same problem. I've been telling her stories from the forest, she's very curious.<br />
I can't deny a dying girl. ...Woman. She's 26.<br />
<br />
Dying girls.<br />
<br />
insomniacprince.blogspot.com<br />
<br />
He needs help. All i'm asking is you take a look. My hands are full. They're full.<br />
<br />
I got Jessica killed<br />
Eleven other people.<br />
<br />
I buried them.<br />
<br />
It felt good to get it off my chest. Too good.<br />
<br />
We see him everywhere these days. It's just getting more and more frequent.<br />
I'm horrified every single time.<br />
Every damn time I scream like a little girl.<br />
i bet he likes it<br />
<br />
I feel like there's always things going on, but they get covered up by the next thing.<br />
I was "hollowed", Jake... Danny, Shannon and I were attacked, and now this.<br />
Scattered. Wouldn't make for a good story.<br />
<br />
I wish this was a fucking story.<br />
<br />
Why does he have to walk so FUCKING slowW?<br />
<br />
were in her dead parents' house.<br />
<br />
Please give me one good night's sleep.Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-89718275983315168882011-01-14T22:27:00.003-06:002011-01-14T22:34:17.489-06:00Thomas<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >Nice post, Danny, I think I'll make my own.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >Why are you suddenly being so paranoid? My parents ARE my parents, this IS my house.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >I'm afraid that all of this is making you go a bit crazy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >I do know who Thomas is but I do NOT trust him. I saw him outside, staring at me through the window. THOMAS is probably one of the callers (or even that skinny monster) and Danny is falling into his trap.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >I will not leave this house. It is dangerous outside.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >I had an encounter with him, Danny, you didn't. Don't sit there and think you know what is best.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >Please, stop telling him to leave or that he's not getting something, you people are only making it worse.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-70720011318534618982011-01-05T18:57:00.001-06:002011-01-05T18:58:36.660-06:00Again and Again and Again and AgainWhere are you?<br />
Are you okay?<br />
What happened?<br />
Danny, Shannon.<br />
Please be okay.<br />
<br />
I knew it was a stupid idea, I knew he hadn't left me alone. How could I be so goddamn stupid. I think he took them, I think he buried them.<br />
<br />
I don't know what happened.<br />
The last two weeks, I don't know what happened.<br />
<br />
But he was there. I remember that he was there. Bits, pieces. stAnding<br />
Menacing, he's menacing.<br />
<br />
After what happened to me, I thought it was over, that I had some grand story to tell as I got old and nobody would fucking believe me and it'd be all sunshine and rainbows for the rest of my life.<br />
when you enter his woods you don't goddamn leave.<br />
Never, EVER fucking leave.<br />
<br />
What happened during those weeks in novemberwas only the beginning for me, and as much as I have to say about that, it has to wait because right now the shit has hit the fucking fan and I know I'm in serious danger. DENIAL DENIAL DENIAL DENIAL <br />
thats all I've EVER been about.<br />
I said I was done but I trapped myself into it again<br />
<br />
CHICAGO IS SAFE<br />
<br />
its not safe.<br />
<br />
nowhere is safe.<br />
<br />
he still loves me<br />
<br />
how guilty do you have to make me, you freak?<br />
how many more am I going to bring you?<br />
<br />
see, see, Danny and Shannon, I was with them, it was amazing. we spent the day together downtown and I got to show them my stupid city and it was one of the best days until<br />
<br />
UNTIL.Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-19943060050318681222010-12-21T22:00:00.001-06:002010-12-21T23:02:25.361-06:00Hey!<span style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >I've been feeling really great about this trip. Danny's been awesome, cracking jokes the whole time we've been on the road. It's just been two days, but I'm already feeling like the mess back home is distant now. When we go back, it may be waiting for us, but maybe this trip will allow me to pretend it was all just a dream... for a little while, at least. :D<br /><br />Though, I'm acting as if it was all perfect and dandy. The weather had us a bit worried a few times, and we veered to the left a bit from Chicago. Currently, we're in a quaint little place called Huntley. We're pretty sure it's about an hour away from our destination, so we will be heading out in the morning. Good thing we have internet here! Diane keeps texting me about the mess we left her with... or rather, the mess Danny left her with. She's so anal about all that... haha<br /><br />This afternoon, when Danny was getting us a room, I took a trip down to the local coffee shop. I was a bit worried as we had slept in the car Saturday and Sunday. I felt like, being in this random place, that we'd be more exposed... I suppose that was silly thinking. I wanted to grab a coffee and take my mind off it, you know?<br /><br />Anyway, in there, I saw this girl who was sitting alone. She looked really tired, and stared out the window as if watching some invisible plane fly across the sky...<br /><br />Don't think I'm weird for doing this, but I sat next to her. The girl looked about sixteen and here I am, 21 years old, sitting beside her. I don't know exactly why I did, something just compelled me!<br /><br />She was confused at first, but I introduced myself and told her I was just passing through the area. She mumbled her name, Julia, and told me that she never really met someone passing through Huntley. The conversation was surprisingly easy, she was a nice girl to talk to. She said she was seventeen, and recently started doing rather well in school. She tried getting into sports like her friend, and started feeling more confident about herself. She went on a lot about how grades had been so hard for her before, and now suddenly everything started feeling better. I agreed with her, confidence is key.<br /><br />However, Julia suddenly changed topics on me. Started talking about dreams and how she felt as if they were always trying to tell her something. For example, she had many where her inability to act lead to something dangerous happening. She compared this to her lack of confidence before. Recently though, her dreams contained murder. She had never actually seen anything like that beyond a movie, and to have it right in front of her in a dream freaked her out.<br /><br />I wasn't sure what to say. I don't like my own dreams very much either (But! I haven't had the crystal forest one in like a week! :D ).<br /><br />Instead of telling her the terribly old "It's just a dream!", I told her that she was growing up, changing. No one likes change, change is SCARY. Get enough change and your dreams might just tell you to back out of this new scary stuff sitting right in front of you. Yeah, pretty wishy-washy advice, but I tried.<br /><br />I don't think Julia really believed me, but she smiled anyway. She told me that she was glad someone talked to her today. Her close friends were AWOL on her and she was feeling a bit lonely. Yay for not coming off as a creepy molester!<br /><br />Buuut seriously, talking to that girl made me feel better too. She talked so passionately about her rising confidence... I realized that's been something I've been missing lately. Danny too. CONFIDENCE.<br /><br />We all need CONFIDENCE.</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Cooonfidence. xD<br /><br />I'm not worried about sleeping here now. If anything does happen? Danny and I can take it. We've been friends for a long time, we are a damn good team.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-1704329746865303232010-12-16T22:49:00.004-06:002010-12-16T23:05:14.332-06:00Feeling Better<span style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Danny and I will be leaving tomorrow.<br /><br />I've been feeling a bit better and I'm sort of getting excited for this trip. I'll get some quality time with my best friend, I'll get to meet my great online friend, and eventually I'll be seeing my parents again.<br /><br />This time it will be on much happier terms.<br /><br /><br />Anyways, Shiloh, we REALLY need to talk to you about the trip. Sign into AIM or drop Danny/Me an e-mail.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-71370194517668790042010-12-13T01:46:00.000-06:002010-12-13T01:46:58.036-06:00Dreams and My Current ConditionI'm anemic.<br />
<br />
Just...It just happened for no reason. Things would have been really comfortable if not for that. I'm trying to get better, I do everything the doctors say, but nothing seems to change. Not ever. I'm curious as to if it has to do with the tall guy or not.<br />
By the way, still no trace of the dude. <br />
<br />
Oh and Danny and Shannon, you two should...probably get going, if you know what I mean.<br />
Maybe...it's safe here?<br />
I'm worried for you two. It's hard to put the feeling into words.<br />
<br />
Anyway...The other day I had a rather disheartening dream. I'm standing in the forest, in front of a dead body. She's hanging from a tree, short hair, long face, doesn't look much older than me. No blood, no wounds, just a plain body with a rope around it's neck. I reach into the pockets of her coat and pull out a note, a pen, a bracelet, and a bottle of pills. I stuffed everything into my jacket other than the bottle. Without thinking, I swallow everything inside the bottle all at once. Something tells me I was trying to overdose or something. I wandered through the woods and it got darker and darker. Blood started trickeling out of my nose, my eyes, my ears, my mouth. Then everything goes black as my head feels as though it bursts into flames.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, I rummaged through my coat again.<br />
I found a bracelet and a pen.<br />
<br />
This happened.<br />
<br />
Are the pills what brought me back? <br />
<br />
Maybe this is all just a red herring.<br />
<br />
The tall guy maintains his radio silence, and I'll just keep laying here in my bed, anemic.<br />
<br />
I can hardly type, I feel so fraile.Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-32222654199752319052010-12-07T21:14:00.005-06:002010-12-07T22:01:29.614-06:00Just Ten Minutes<span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;" ><a href="http://followthegreene.blogspot.com/2010/12/diversions.html">Danny is mostly correct.</a> I had panicked when the banging started, and was too scared to go outside and investigate.<br /><br />These callers have had my nerves shot for months now. I can't help but think this has been their plan from the very beginning. Daniel stopped going to work last week and he's told me not to answer any of their calls. He seems to think that maybe the memory loss thing will work in his favor there... or something. I don't know, he hasn't been the same since this started. Neither have I, or even Diane.<br /><br />... I was almost kidnapped, or murdered, or... whatever. Oh my fuck, I can still barely believe it.<br /><br />That fucker wouldn't stop knocking! Why did he not just go away?! He fucked up EVERYTHING.<br /><br />As soon as I saw the door opening, I slammed my weight against it. There was no fucking way I was going to let him. Evidently, he was no weakling though, and he eventually forced his way inside. It's really hazy here... He had a big sweater on, but the hood was down. He had these strikingly... I hate to say it but, his eyes were just mesmerizing. They were a bright shiny blue, and they just...<br /><br />I don't know why I focused on that. We stared at each other for a moment before he pounced. I tried to slip away but he had been able to get a hold of my ankle. I tripped and slammed my head against the couch. (We have the living room just outside the door, and then there's the main hall where... Mmkay, I guess that's not important at all...) He started to crawl on top of me, to pin me, I assume. I began to kick wildly, probably hitting him in the face a few times. He made these large grunting noises, like he was struggling. Either I'm stronger than I realize or he had some sort of condition... Considering what exactly I've seen, I'm thinking the latter.<br /><br />My kicking allowed me to get away from him for a moment. I rushed to our little kitchen and grabbed the large chef knife Diane bought in the summer. When I turned back, the guy was stopped in the doorway. He had such a look of anguish on his face, I thought he had seen the knife and was about to run away. I thought it was odd the guy had come to attack me and apparently didn't have a weapon of his own... But then, I noticed he wasn't looking at me, but above me.<br /><br />You see, in the kitchen, we have this small little window that rests in between the cabinets. I looked up, and well...<br /><br />How does one describe the first time they see a monster from their nightmares in the flesh?<br /><br />A face filled the kitchen window. Except, there was nothing there, really. It was a rather blank face. The clothing? I could tell the guy (Quite a skinny guy) was wearing a very prim and proper black suit. He even had a tie. I blinked, and he was gone. Well, not really.<br /><br />I turned back to my attacker, who had started up his loud grunting again. That grunting was quickly becoming the most annoying sound in the world. Aside from the knocking, of course.<br /><br />He took one step toward me before his nose exploded. Not literally, but blood just started pouring out of his nose like... like a fountain. It was disgusting, just sickening. I was about ready to puke when, well, the faceless guy appeared again. The tall man. Skinny skinny skinny guy. The Slender Man.<br /><br />I'm about ready to pass out, but I need to finish writing this post first.<br /><br />My attacker was having the worst nose bleed of all time, and when you-know-who appeared, he started screaming.<br /><br />I started screaming too, I think.<br /><br />I wanted this guy out of my apartment. I wanted the fucking nightmare out of my apartment. The closest one was the faceless monster. I took a couple of steps across the kitchen, took a deep breath, and planted my chef's knife right into his skinny back.<br /><br />If you want to know what exactly happened after that, your guess is as good as mine. I am pretty sure I felt some sort of pain, and things got really dizzy... But honestly, I think I went completely blind. I don't remember what I was seeing, but there was definitely screaming. More than just my own and my attacker's, I think. There might have been laughter? Something like that...<br /><br />It was just painful, really.<br /><br />Next thing that I know, I'm laying on my back, with that attacker with his mesmerizing eyes staring down at me. I had a hold on his arm, the one holding the needle. The guy, he looked spooked. I'm sure I did too.<br /><br />Danny walked in, the attacker forgot all about me and plowed his way outside. It was... a long time before I was able to get up.<br /><br />I couldn't tell Danny that I had seen... you-know-who. I decided I would until the police were gone, until everything had calmed down before I would write this post. I do feel a bit better after writing it, but damn, I'm just exhausted.<br /><br />I'm also more scared than ever.<br /><br />Sweet dreams.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-31246197620633658242010-12-06T23:30:00.004-06:002010-12-06T23:43:05.218-06:00It's late, but...<span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;" >... I wanted to make aware that on the news today, a couple of kids were reported missing after disappearing from their homes overnight. Two girls. They were about 8-9 years old and were apparently best friends.<br /><br />This kind of thing is devastating. I can't even fathom how cold one would have to be to take a child away from their family. It's always a selfish reason, whether it be perverted or malicious.<br /><br />It's stuff like this that truly make me wonder if the monsters we create in our imaginative minds are really worse than our fellow man.<br /><br />Man can be so cruel.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-70978517415802289352010-12-02T01:29:00.000-06:002010-12-02T01:29:16.953-06:00Second Set of Notes: CodesI'm working on getting in contact with Jake Owen. I am going to attempt to help him and his cousin.<br />
Jake if you're reading this, just reply to my email, okay?<br />
<br />
Anyway, I looked over my notes and meditated a bit(not literally, I can't sit still for ten seconds) on the two weeks, and came up with a good topic I think would be interesting to talk about. A lot of the time when the tall guy hollows someone out or something, they'll tend to speak in code. Very cryptic. M made a great post about this too, but as a former hollowed, I'd like to put my two cents in from the other side of the spectrum. I actually like to think the tall guy himself enjoys being this way with the codes as another form of spreading fear and paranoia, but that's just conjecture of my mind. Now there's three types of codes the hollowed people seem to use, and boil down to three phrases.<br />
<br />
It's/I am/we are coming for you.<br />
Run.<br />
Help me.<br />
<br />
Looking over some of the comments I've left on the other blogs of people involved with the tall guy, you might find I was doing this too. I'm too lazy to look it up exactly but I was saying something along the lines of:<br />
;;j;k;hk;;yk;elp;;fg;kf;me;;k<br />
And it you cut out some of the letters you get, yes, "help me" actually I think I just wrote "elp me", I'm not sure, but I guess that was the implication.<br />
Again, I was pretty much insane during this time, so I really haven't a clue WHY I did this when in all other instances I was completely under his control. What I've began to assume is that when a hollowed person sends a code for help or to help someone else, it's the smallest vestiges of your humanity leaking through, and...the hollow part is trying to cover it up? Not sure. Not being able to ever have an absolute kind of sucks, doesn't it? <br />
Another thing I don't understand is coding some hidden threat into a message, why don't you just tell me outright that I need to "be alone" mr hollowed?<br />
<br />
There was another girl with me at one point, not for very long. The other puppets, they came and went, rarely interacting with another puppet. We weren't some sort of society, hanging out underground eating dinner together, but occasionally the tall guy would have us interact or cross paths. This happened multiple times during my two week's stay. Anyway, she had scars all over her arm. They didn't look like scars from cuts, because they were round like burns, it was as though she had a large round pole stabbed through her skin all over. I couldn't see her face because of her hood, and her long hair covered most of her features like a mask. She wore casual clothing like me. In retrospect, we probably looked really silly in our jeans and hoodies serving the tall guy. ...Just like a bunch of Daddy's little kids. Makes me sick.<br />
The girl had a metal stake in her hand and was carving something into a tree in the middle of the forest where I was currently "hanging out"(awaiting orders, I suppose). When she was finished, she ran off as though she were running for her life, the sound of crunching leaves got farther and farther away from me until I could hear it no longer. At that point, I peered at what she had carved, at the time I had no reason to have any opinion whatsoever, but I remember exactly what it looked like:<br />
<br />
I WILL DEA<span style="font-size: xx-small;">F</span>EN YOU <span style="font-size: xx-small;">IN</span>SI<span style="font-size: xx-small;">D</span>E<br />
SCREA<span style="font-size: xx-small;">M</span> AT TH<span style="font-size: xx-small;">E</span><span style="font-size: small;">M<br />
LI<span style="font-size: xx-small;">K</span>E WORRYSOME CH<span style="font-size: xx-small;">IL</span>DREN <span style="font-size: xx-small;">L</span>YING<br />
BURY HI<span style="font-size: xx-small;">M</span> BURY H<span style="font-size: xx-small;">E</span>R<br />
JOHN </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">/</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">As you can see, some letters were written smaller...If the hollowed part of her was trying to cover up her plea of "Find me, Kill me" why didn't it come up with something more...complex? These are the things that make me curious. I've spent all day today thinking about who this John guy was to her, and what the message itself (disregarding the code) meant, if anything at all.</span><br />
<br />
Shit, I act like I know what I'm talking about, but I really don't have much of a clue do I? At least I have some experience. I guess. <br />
<br />
Next post will be a little deeper, a little more first hand. Believe me, after having gone through this, writing this crap isn't too easy. <br />
But some of you, some of you probably get that, don't you?Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-15035289076252512782010-11-29T00:35:00.000-06:002010-11-29T00:35:58.940-06:00Owen AdeleIt said <br />
<br />
OWEN <br />
<br />
ADELE<br />
<br />
Not, own adele. Owen.<br />
<br />
First and last name, I guess. <br />
<br />
If anyone knows someone named Adele Owen (or Owen Adele, Adele seems more like a first name to me), please contact me or something. I think she/he's in trouble. Big. Fucking. Trouble.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sidenote: I went to the post office today and had this waiting for me. (Must have come while I was gone)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-vfCjxtHUAB1YBe1skQLK_61F8uJ-yAVX9wHYIFzs9XCYt1Oh1Uf16La0RPlUYobxfBn8ytxtPIzB0-oSjjscOoFJ05MdLiPdmZc5GVDockeUPe7ohjcP7vdbrfWg_eBBzMCZBb0lBzz/s1600/box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-vfCjxtHUAB1YBe1skQLK_61F8uJ-yAVX9wHYIFzs9XCYt1Oh1Uf16La0RPlUYobxfBn8ytxtPIzB0-oSjjscOoFJ05MdLiPdmZc5GVDockeUPe7ohjcP7vdbrfWg_eBBzMCZBb0lBzz/s320/box.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The little things that cheer you up.Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-48745327605935582322010-11-27T00:56:00.000-06:002010-11-27T00:56:51.875-06:00First Set of Notes: VictimsMy notebook is a total mess from all the shit I've written in it. Everytime I remember something, think something, I need to put it down asap. I can't risk losing this information. So it's time to start, time to let the world, and the rest of the people being followed by the slender man or other devices know what I've been through, what I've learned.<br />
<br />
As you can assume, I've done certain things I'm not proud of while under his thrall (or if you prefer, while I was "hollowed"), and I won't be speaking of my guilt until it's neccesary. Allow me this? Thanks.<br />
<br />
Now, from what I can tell, the slender man has three basic types of victims. There may be a lot of other types or variations, but these are the big distinctions I found.<br />
<br />
Children<br />
Step-Children<br />
Orphans<br />
<br />
As the Father, he seeks out his Children, follows them, watches them. Sometimes for weeks, months...he may even decide to play with you. Make your life a little more "Fun"...Until he finally decides that he likes you enough, that your worthy of his total "love".<br />
Now, as most of us by now know (Probably by way of M), you become capable of being stalked by him once you know about him. Once you know about him, he knows about you. God help you if he decides to show you his love. Love of course, being taken off and never seen again. Killed. Father wants to show love to all Children.<br />
<br />
However...<br />
<br />
He may decide you're good enough (I don't exactly know what kind of critera you have to meet), and choose to "Adopt" you. These are the step-children, he "hollows you out" and proceeds to make you his puppet. This is what happened to me, I guess. He gets you to do stuff for him, he never speaks, you just...know. What you have to do just comes to you as if an instinct. He'll tell you to bring someone to him, to kill someone's family...stuff like that. ...I assume. I don't know all the why and how--it's not like I was asking him questions; this is all observation. There were only a few that were around me. So I assume that this is the category with the lowest amount of people. Eventually, when he's done with you, he shows you his love...or disowns you. Regardless, you die.<br />
I have no idea why I didn't meet this fate.<br />
<br />
Finally there are the Orphans, the people he chooses are unworthy of love, or are in the way of him giving it to someone he really wants to love. These are the people you find tied to trees in black bags, skewered on a tree branch, a bloody smear on the wall...or even just "gone". <br />
<br />
Sir Slender Man, you know there's really no difference when you KILL SOMEONE, right?<br />
<br />
Another important thing you should note: I use this family terminology note as an absolute, but simply how I perceived it when I was "hollowed". When my mind went to madness, this was how I saw the world, how I saw the slender man, and everyone around me. So when I say "children" or "step children" you could easily substitute stuff like "chosen" or "worthy" or whatever you'd like. This is just how I know it, and it's how I can put it into words. I doubt he actually thinks he's some sort of Daddy, it's just how I saw it. <br />
<br />
I'm gonna look over my crazy notes to put together another informative posts tomorrow or sometime, but now I'll explain some current events.<br />
<br />
I've checked all of the letters and paper and stuff that was in my jacket when I woke up. A lot of crazy scribbling, as to be expected. There's around 74 of them. 20 of which I scribbled with "OWN ADELE OWN ADELE. COMING COMING." And a bunch of letters and numbers. More than I can count.<br />
<br />
Own Adele?<br />
Poor girl.<br />
I'll talk more about these papers when I can think of something about them. When I can piece what they mean together. Maybe I'll scan some sometime.<br />
<br />
Also,you may be wondering, "Shiloh, why aren't you on the run yet? The slender man is after you!" Well...I'm not sure if I should yet. Does he still want me? I haven't seen him, felt him(if he's following you, you probably know what I mean) since I got back. Maybe he forgot about me or something?<br />
Hahaha...one can only hope.<br />
<br />
That's not the really weird thing though.<br />
The really weird thing is that nobody, my parents, my friends.<br />
They don't remember I was ever gone.Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-25287219050252775512010-11-25T04:23:00.000-06:002010-11-25T04:23:31.950-06:00Sleeping BeautyShiloh Ryan, here. Don't worry. I'm not crazy or anything...I'm back to normal. Well, sane...How this is though...<br />
You're all probably wondering what exactly happened to me for the last two weeks, and believe me, it's not something easy for me to put into words...I'll get to that in a moment, but first, theres something I need to say about, well, everything.<br />
<br />
We live our lives based on what we accept as true, right, concrete...That's how we define our "reality" Can we really say for sure what's true? What's correct? Is the stuff in front of us concrete, or just a result of our own delusion? It's just a bunch of vague concepts, "reality" could be just as much a delusion as seeing monster or ghosts. Monsters aren't real, Ghosts aren't real...Why? Because we can't prove that they are. Our world is shaped by our own reality, our own beliefs. My reality isn't the same as anyone elses anymore. So many things are real to me now. The world I live in has been stripped of it's logical, physical bindings.<br />
<br />
The slender man is real.<br />
Shannon, Danny, it's best the two of you accept this before it's too late. <br />
<br />
On November 11th, I went to Millenium Park with my friend Sean to meet up with this guy who had been stalking me and sending me all this creepy shit. We eventually saw him, and he ran immediately. We chased him out into the city, I can only imagine what the people around us thought. It didn't matter to me though, I wanted to pound this dude's face in if it was the last thing I ever did. We followed him into an alleyway, I was sprinting as fast as I could, Sean not far behind me when the blond guy turned a corner. Before we could turn it ourselves, he stepped out in front of us.<br />
<br />
Black suit, no face. I can't put into words the horror of this moment. Everything in my life up to that point was nothing compared to seeing a nightmare become flesh. <br />
<br />
I felt something enter me. A piercing pain in my stomach. I'd been stabbed by something long and thick, I felt where it entered and where it exited out the back. It went all the way through. Blood seemed to rocked out from my mouth. I could see each drop moving farther from my face as if it was in slow motion. After that, I must have passed out.<br />
<br />
The next thing I remember is being dazed in dark room or garage or basement or something. I was handcuffed to some object. My memory is foggy about this part, I remember waking up many, many times during this. My concept of time was completely gone. (I must have tried to record it from my phone during one of the times I woke up as seen in the video titled "cove". I can imagine who uploaded that from my phone.) <br />
<br />
Eventually, I woke up, this time not being so disoriented. I was in about two inches of water. It was dark, everything black, I couldn't see anything at all. I thrashed around, I could feel myself surrounded by what I can only describe as soft, thin slices of some sort of meat or something. Some were floating, some I could feel on the surface of the floor under the water. As I violently thrashed about I eventually started to inhale and swallow a bit of the water on accident. Only then did I realize it wasn't water.<br />
<br />
It was blood.<br />
<br />
I gasped and choked on the horrid, metallic liquid in my mouth. I vomited almost immediately; I knew it wasn't my own blood, and that thought made me vomit a second time. I was choking on the blood of other people, and it was REAL. I thrashed about ever harder, cutting my wrist on my handcuffs in the process and started screaming. It was a wonder that I wasn't doing that already. I couldn't think straight; I started clawing my eyes to find a fabric covering them. It felt like bandages. I have no idea WHY bandages were put over my eyes but it only served to freak me out even more. Instinctively I started calling out for my parents.<br />
Isn't that sad?<br />
<br />
I heard footsteps coming towards me, not long after that I blacked out.<br />
<br />
The next thing I knew, he was my "father". The slender man.<br />
Yes, I know that's crazy, but it's something I can't explain. I became his puppet after that, and...I remember everything. All of it. I don't know why I did what I was doing. <br />
<br />
Last night, Tuesday at about 1:00AM or something...I don't remember exactly, I woke up in the middle of a forest preserve or something, not too far from my home, 16 miles maybe. Immediatley I knew that I was back to my old self. Everything that had just happened hit me instantly. Except, of course, what happened BEFORE I blacked out this time. That was the only gap. <br />
<br />
It was like I had been joined with a different person. Like Shiloh died in that pool of blood, became someone else, and then he joined with Shiloh to become what I am now. It was like I took another person's memories as my own.<br />
<br />
I've been reading some of the stuff I've said to some people, and I can only say that I'm sorry. That wasn't me. Whatever I became was NOT ME.<br />
<br />
Anyway, when I woke up I took my phone out of my pocket. It was about to die, which makes sense as that was probably how I was communicating on here in the first place. Fuck my 3Gs. I went to my GPS and found where I was and started walking home in a daze. There wasn't anything else I could do anyway. After an hour or so of that, a cop rolled by and pulled up next to me. He questioned what I was doing out so late (I assume he though I was a minor or something. I'm told I look rather young for my age.) and I told him I got lost on a hike and if I could get a ride home. <br />
<br />
I was lucky to meet such a nice fucking cop. He dropped me off at home and I spent the night in my garage. I was afraid of my parents, so I waited until the morning when they were already gone to get into the house. My jacket, which I had been wearing on the 11th was now stuffed with letters and notes covered in random scribblings...I tossed them into a bag at home. I'll look through them later, should help me make sense of this. I tried phoning Sean...No answer. I hope he's okay.<br />
<br />
In the mirror, I looked like a total corpse. Like I hadn't eaten or done anything in two weeks. I didn't feel hungry or tired, though. I showered and laid down on my bed. The only thing I could do was scribble down the past two weeks' events. <br />
<br />
I don't know why I went back to normal after being it's puppet, I don't know if he's still watching me, I don't know if I should sleep or what I should do. Everything has become so horrifying. I have seen and been a part of death with my own two eyes, my own two hands.<br />
<br />
My next posts are going to largely be the accounts of my two weeks under the slender man that I've scribbled down in my journal, what I learned, what I experienced, what I felt, what I saw, and what I can figure out.<br />
Maybe it can help me, maybe it can help you.<br />
<br />
After all, you're all real, aren't you?<br />
I can't believe we let ourselves be so deluded.<br />
Is this your doing?<br />
<br />
Oh, and that blond guy? He's dead.<br />
A lot of people are dead.<br />
<br />
Again, I'm sorry everyone.<br />
I'm so, so sorry.Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-43374460698066525072010-11-23T19:38:00.000-06:002010-11-23T19:38:11.612-06:00acisseJ!pots ,timmaD <br />
.reh tuoba (gnipyt)gniklat tsuj morf meht gnitteg m'I .sehca hcamots lauteperp eht fo derit m'I. metsys ym fo tuo siht teg dna reh ot lkat yllanif ot ecin eb d'taht ,heaY...os reh rof emas eht sti syas acisseJ...sehsurc eldnah I yaw eht reklats a ekil leef em sekam taht semitemos hguohtlA !tsal ta etamiltu emoceb lliw efil dna reh hcaorppa yllanif nac I ebyaM !otni os m'I lrig taht tuoba ecivda emos em evag neve ehS<br />
.EruS<br />
.rewolf etihW<br />
.gniht etihw....a sa sa etihW .nacixeM saw stnerap reh fo eno llet ot elba eb reven d'uoy reh ta gnikool esuaceb ynnuf si hcihW<br />
nacixeM s'eh taht tpecxE .daD reh tuoba <em>gnihtyna </em>wenk reven I ti fo kniht ot emoC ?wenk ohW !rehpargotohp lanoisefforp a si daD reH .yhpargotohp ym tuoba lla reh dlot I dna ,retirw gniripsa na llits s'ehS .neeb ev'ew woh rehtohcae gnilleT .taht dna siht tuoba gniklat detrarts ew dna em dellac ylmodnar tsuj ehS !yadot litnU<br />
<br />
<br />
.peed oot gnihton tub ,neht dna won yreve tahc d'eW...gniklat deppots dna sloohcshgih tnereffid ot tnew ew ,reverof tsal t'nod shniht doog esruoc fO<br />
.revetahw ro semag oediv ro sehsurc ruo eb ti rehtehw ,revetahw tuoba tsuj rehtohcae htiw gniklat thgin lla yats d'eW .reh ot esolc leef em edam yllaer nommoc ni dah ew taht lla tuB<br />
(dnuora lap dna spohkcos loohcs ta ecnad dluow ew hguohT) .enilno ylno detsixe hcum ytterp spihsnoitaler ruO .yalpelor ot woh em thguat ehs dna ,gnitirw [ydren] derahs eW .stseretni [ydren] emas eht fo lla derahs tsuj ew ,snaem yna yb sdneirf taerg t'nerew eW .acisseJ deman dneirf siht dah ,loohcs edarg ni saw I nehw ,oga emit gnol A<br />
<br />
.revetahW<br />
?ton s'tI<br />
?thgir ,sthguoht gnitnev rof SI golb sihT .yrots a syug uoy llet em teLShilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-30673187166928402472010-11-20T23:11:00.000-06:002010-11-20T23:11:03.469-06:00FATHERtheyre dead. dying. hes killing them. 6, 7 ,8 , 9? i cant COUNT.<br />
<br />
he's so angry, father is SO SO ANGRY! he's hurting all of us...weHE IS SO UPSET WITH US..<br />
<br />
please dont punish me too<br />
notmenotmenotmenotmenotmenotmenotme<strike>NOTME</strike>Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-59213720991620314502010-11-18T01:11:00.009-06:002010-11-18T01:11:00.981-06:00friendsthough i have been gone you should not worry<br />
<br />
on the 11th i decided to go home<br />
<br />
to see my father<br />
<br />
he welcomed me <br />
<br />
ive learned how to CAUSE<br />
<br />
i am covered in the man's blood<br />
<br />
i will be father's favoriteShilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-87341371616210708512010-11-17T21:41:00.002-06:002010-11-17T21:58:36.717-06:00Disappearance<span style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >I wasn't too sure if I should let Danny talk about this, or if I should. I'm home and he's not, so I guess I'm just going to say it.<br /><br />Brandon has gone missing.<br /><br />For the last few days, he hasn't shown up for any of his classes. No one who is friends with him has heard or seen from him. His roommate says he hasn't been home, or been contacted.<br /><br />Obviously, people are a bit worried.<br /><br />I have a bit more reason to be worried, considering the week before he disappeared he started avoiding me and leaving me weird messages. There is an obvious connection but... What is it?<br /><br />Not to mention Shiloh's two last videos. I can't even tell what is clearly going on in them, or why they were uploaded like that. He hasn't contacted me since the 11th... I guess he's gone missing too.<br /><br />I'd really like to know just what the heck is going on.</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: courier new;font-size:85%;" > I can't handle this much longer.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-87597147607978281092010-11-15T16:12:00.003-06:002010-11-15T16:12:57.355-06:00order #101290<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sdThJL8va6M?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sdThJL8va6M?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />
<br />
parcel en route--//--in TRANSitShilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-83829971857514780782010-11-13T11:38:00.002-06:002010-11-13T11:38:27.071-06:00<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/luug3m8utN4?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/luug3m8utN4?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Shilohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15513641279466873815noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6349362140405350064.post-31828054960578870262010-11-12T10:20:00.005-06:002010-11-12T10:33:45.259-06:00Not Fine<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >I can't sit around and pretend everything is okay anymore.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >Danny may have insisted we've got it all figured out but we don't, not at all. I have been having extremely terrible nightmares lately. That doll, the crystal forest, the endless twists and turns... They keep haunting me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >The reason I can't use my old account is because... This is silly, but I had a dream about it. A nightmare. I will not go into detail, but I feel it would be a very bad omen at this point to even touch the thing. I am not normally superstitious, but...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >I didn't want to talk about any of the weird stuff. The strange calls, Paul, or Shiloh. Once it became apparent Danny was experiencing similar stuff, I decided to talk to him about it. He insisted that we pretend nothing is wrong. To get superstitious would be the worst thing to do. I still could not bring myself to use the old account, so I made a new one...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >We contacted the cops (looked into getting a new number as well). I am willing to believe that whoever is harassing us is stressing us out enough to make us sick, and to see things that are not even there. I am talking about Halloween, when Danny apparently saw something. I don't even know what it was, he refuses to elaborate.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >I just want to believe it's all illusions. Once we get rid of the strange callers (and I thought Brandon was so nice, I am so hurt that he would do this) hopefully everything should go back to normal.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >Paul, wherever you are, and Shiloh too, please stay safe.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2