Waking Up

My neck is sore, covered in purple splotches. I’m still not breathing quite right. Judith, my family, and I’ve been bustled from place to place all day. Yet, I really don’t mind. Because it’s over. The nightmare is finally over. They caught Brett.  I can finally sleep soundly for the first time since Mary died.

Judith and I were moved to a hotel room after Brett’s little post on MaleOrderMan, with three officers posted at the door and a few others scattered across the floor we were staying on. It seemed foolproof, until last night. Judith was in the shower while blaring music from her laptop, as she always does. I had just stepped back in from the balcony, when a pair of strong arms wrapped around my throat.

“No more no more no more hide and seek,” Brett said. I started panicking, unable to breathe.

I still don’t know how he found us. I still don’t know how he got past the police and into the hotel room. Fifth floor, no way in other than the guarded front door, and still he somehow found his way inside. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand how that mad man was capable of doing everything he did, but it doesn’t matter anymore because now he’s chained up in a cell under 24 hour watch.

“Shh… don’t struggle. You don’t die yet. Her first. Gotta kill Damien. Gotta kill the author. You aren’t him yet. Not until she dies,” Brett whispered, his lips so close they may as well have been brushing against my ear. His grip tightened even more, “You sleep now.”

I blacked out.

I woke up to find my apartment filled with activity. A paramedic was crouched over me, shining a light in my eyes before turning to someone else and shouting that I was awake. The only thing I could think about was Judith and what that monster had done to her.

The shock and joy I felt when she ran to me and embraced me was like nothing I’ve ever felt.

Judith explained everything to me. She’d come out of the shower to find Brett standing over my unconscious body. He’d charged at her, so she used both the taser and the pepper spray she’s had with her since coming back from Kiera’s on him. Apparently the combination stopped him in his tracks. Judith called for help, the police came in, and Brett was in handcuffs before he could react. After that, it was just a matter of getting me awake and taking him to the station. Then today with all the paperwork and procedure…

I can’t believe it’s finally over. Judith is alive. My family is alive. I’m alive. The nightmare is over. I can get back to writing, and my life can finally go on.

What sort of fucking idiot do you take me for, Brett?

Did you really think Judith and I were just going to sit in my apartment that you've broken into TWICE already, waiting for you to attack us? Not fucking likely.

Judith and I are safe and sound, thanks to our good friends at the police department. They may be incompetent at catching you, even as they stake out my apartment for you like they did last night, but at least they know how to find a dark corner for us to hide in while you rampage about like a great, blind madman.

Just try and find us, Ahab.

Return

Judith came back on Sunday. It was so good to have her in my arms again after worrying for the past three weeks. She's been here since, and we've spent a lot of time just talking.

She's still upset. I guess I understand. Still, she cares about me enough to give me a second chance and stick around, despite all the madness around us. This is why I love this woman. Judith understands me, and she's not going to just abandon me at the first sign of trouble.

She's changed, though. I saw it in her eyes from the moment she walked in the door, and felt it in her hug when I finally got to hold her again. She carries herself differently, like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders. She explained why, and I mostly understand, but it's still a strange thing to see. She used to be so carefree and relaxed. Now... now there's something more underneath.

Apparently, the police did speak to her about the mayoral murder over in that town. They literally grabbed her off the street and took her in for questioning. Thank god she had an alibi. They've got her on camera at a supermarket during the supposed time of the murder. Judith says Kiera sent her out to get food at that particular time. No doubt in my mind now that Kiera did it, fucking killed someone, but at least she kept Judith clean. I appreciate that, even if the woman is still a raging bitch.

The scariest thing, to me, is what Judith told me about the... things that go on in that town. The cult is real. Kiera claims it's different than it was years ago. It's not some child-murdering religious organization, and instead has just become a way for people to consolidate power. Still, if this "cult" isn't doing anything more wrong than any other religious or political group, what's her excuse for killing the mayor?

Just as worrisome as the cult, though, is... Judith went into the red brick building with Kiera. They didn't go deep, but she saw the trapdoor, the one that shouldn't be there. And if that impossible structure is real... God, I still remember the chills from when I drove by a month ago... Has it really been a month?

Judith says Kiera taught her some tricks to staying alive, and quite frankly I'll take all the aid I can get until the police catch the psycho after me and I escape this mess, but there's another source of help. Kiera gave Judith a notebook. Not just any notebook.

Damien's notebook, the writings of the man whose story is ruining my life.

It came with a warning, that looking too deep is dangerous, but that the knowledge inside could save our lives. The writing in it is... odd. Some pages are nice and neat, filled with just thoughts and theories. Others are scrawls of madness. Still, that's not the strangest part about the book.

The book is infinite. The pages never stop turning. I don't understand it, but it's true. It's impossible to reach the end of the notebook. I'm not even sure it's possible to find a page you've already passed.

I know it's crazy and you all won't believe me, but it's true. I'll get pics later, just to prove all of you naysayers wrong. For now, I have more important things to take care of, like dinner with Judith.

May 19

Judith is still gone. It’s been weeks and she’s still gone. She missed today. Ever since my family moved here, she’s never missed the anniversary of my father’s death before. Now I’ve no one to talk to; no one except a blank white box and a blinking black bar.

Despite concerns of Brett, I went to see my family. Safety in numbers, I suppose. We went out for dinner - Mother, Dean, Todd, and I. I really wish that Dean hadn’t been there. I have nothing against the man, but having him with us seemed like spitting on father’s grave. I know Mom loves him. I know he’s a good man. He treats her and Todd so much better than fucking Ryan ever did. Still, no matter how much better he is, he’ll still never be my father.

Fifteen years, Dad. It’s been fifteen years since you left us.

 Mom told me you’d be proud of me. I still feel pain from the lie I’ve told her, and yet I’m so glad she thinks so. She wanted to know how the work on the novel was going. I told her the truth, that I’d lost interest and was working on another story. I haven’t had the heart to tell her I didn’t write Dreams in Darkness, that I lied to get my foot in the door, that Brett’s mad reasoning for hunting me is something so ridiculous. I spared her that. I let her keep thinking I was her accomplished son, following in his father’s footsteps. I know she hopes I can make it on my writing, support myself for the rest of my life on it.

She could barely pay for the dinner. It tore me apart to see the sadness in her eyes as she pulled out her purse. I offered to help, but she wouldn’t have any of it. Even with both of them working, Dean and Ma are living paycheck to paycheck. When all of this ends and life goes back to normal, when I get published, when I finally live up to you, Dad, I hope I have enough money to help Mom. She deserves so much better than all this, after everything Ryan, life, even you, have put her through.

She’s such a strong woman, even after everything that’s happened she keeps going with her chin up. I wish I could fight like she does. I don’t know how she does it.

I went back home as soon as dinner was done. Mom offered to let me stay the night, but I always like to be alone today. I went through old pictures from before you died. I was too young to remember most of them. I still remember my fourth birthday, when you came in dressed up like a clown. I was so scared. That simple, pure childhood fear of clowns, nothing that truly matters, would be so much better than what I live with now. I still remember my fifth birthday, when you missed my party and came home drunk. I still remember how mad Mom was, and I still remember that smell on your breath and that happy smile as you picked me up and told me Happy Birthday before collapsing on the sofa. You were gone a few months later.

I’ve been trying to write since I put the photos away. I’ve hardly gotten anywhere. Too many emotions making their way though me. Normally I'd talk to Judith. Instead, I only have this. Hopefully getting this out helps ease the pain, and lets me get back to my work.

Death

Skhisma wasn't lying. It wasn't Judith that was murdered earlier this week. The police released more details about the killings over the past few days, and I feel like I have enough to really merit updating you all.

It was the mayor from a town over, which certainly explains why they kept the identity under wraps. He was found dead on his bedroom floor with, in the words of the police chief during his press conference, "significant evidence leading us to suspect foul play". From what I overheard from the cops outside, someone strangled him with a garrote.

They also have a suspect, one they came to me to ask about yesterday after seeing a new comment on this blog.

Judith. I know you're reading this. Get the fuck away from Kiera. They're looking at you as a potential accomplice now, considering what Kiera said. Please. Come back home.

Morons

If you dumbasses are about done yelling at each other over grammar in my fucking comments, I figured you'd all like to know I'm not insane. The officers were able to hear the recording too, so Brett is fucking real. Like I didn't already know that, but weirder shit has happened.

Though now that means Kiera's real as well. And that means...

I've spent the past few days holed up here at home, keeping an eye on the news while staying in touch with my loved ones. Judith still isn't replying to my calls, though. If Kiera's to be believed, she's over in that supposedly cursed town. Please, if you're reading this Judith, just let me hear your voice at least once. I just want to be sure you're okay. I never meant for any of this to happen. I just want to know that you're alright and not dead in a ditch somewhere. I... don't know what I'd do if I lost you.

And speaking of Kiera, apparently she isn't held in all that high of regards amongst the police. After hearing Brett's recording, they immediately asked if I had any contact with Kiera. Looks like that one commenter is right. Why the hell do we trust her?

So, please, Judith. Get out of there. Come back home to me. I'm sure we can work this out. I just don't want anything bad to happen to you. Not after what that psycho did to M

ohgod the news. someone just died in oh god Judith

FUCKING CALL ME. I NEED TO KNOW THAT ISN'T YOU. Please

Illusion of Sanity

I don’t understand it. How the fuck did he get in here again? As if I don’t have enough on my mind with Judith disappearing to look into Kiera’s story… if that’s even what’s happening. What if he’s right? It’d explain how he was here. It’d explain so much.

But it can’t be true. I’m not crazy.

Brett was here. I was trying to get in touch with Judith once again, and turned the corner to find him standing there in my living room like he fucking lived here, twiddling that knife between his fingers. I caught his eyes, and the most malevolent smile crept across his face. There was something so familiar about him. 

Brett pointed the blade at me. He brought his finger up to his lips. I understood. I didn’t yell for help. I had no way of defending myself, and he’s bigger than I am. The psycho would gut me before the police ever made it here. Fortunately, I was able to do one thing. I set my phone to start recording. If this was my death, at least my family and Judith would know what happened.

Brett - “Nice place. Not sure how you’ll afford it now. No Mary to keep you afloat.”

Me – “Because of you. You fucking killed her.”

B – “You haven’t read your adoring public’s comments, have you? You killed her. All your fault. All because you wrote that story. Glad to see they see the truth. They know I’m the hero.”

M – “You’re… you’re fucking delusional, fucking insane. I didn’t write Dreams in Darkness. I didn’t fucking write anything. I lied.”

B – “NO! YOU FUCKING WROTE IT! JUST TRYING TO GET OUT NOW BY LYING!”

M – “Didn’t yo—“

B – “You just want out. Too late now. You killed my family. You made Harry go crazy. You opened my eyes. You wrote it. You killed them. You killed Mary. And you think saying you lied will make it all go away. Isn’t happening. You’re in too deep now.”

M – “Didn’t you see Kiera’s comment?”

B – “That was you. Had to be. Just another way out. Just another lie. Always lies with you.”

…

B – “Unless you think it’s real. Even though you actually wrote it. Maybe you’re mad. Ever think about that? Maybe this is all in your head. That’d be pretty crazy. Makes you crazy. All in your head. Kiera, Judith, even me. All just you, writing.”

M – “That… you’re crazy. And I know Judith is real.”

B – “Maybe she’s real, but you write her things? Just you writing. Author of your nightmare.”

M – “I… I know I’m not.”

B – “How are you sure? Maybe you killed Mary. Maybe you wrote Kiera and Judith and Skhisma. Maybe I’m just in your head.”

M – “I…”

B – “Explains how I got in here. Explains so much. Makes it all your fault. You killed Mary. You made me up and you killed Mary.”

M – “You’re insane. You know you’re real.”

B – “All I know are the voices and that you die soon. Very soon… Sleep now.”

Next thing I knew, he’d rushed me and my skull was being introduced with the nearest wall. I woke up lying on the floor. The first thing I did was replay that conversation. I could hear his voice. I had to get this to the police to look into. And yet… what if I just think I hear him? What if he’s right? So I transcribed it here first. Proof of… something.

I’m going down to talk to my “guards” now. Hopefully they hear him too. And hopefully they fucking stop him from getting in here ever again.

Oh god, I know where I’ve seen him: The fan from the grocery store before all of this started. He was the fucking fan. Mary and Kathy saw him. He has to be real… Right?