Welp here I am

 Slightly drunk and high off my tits, about to probably make a fool of myself, but who cares right? All of you are fucking dead anyway, just screaming into the cyber void at this point. It's kind of funny you know? I was chastised so many times for being dumb enough to go with that asshole's plans, which in retrospect was true, I was/am a dumbass, correctomundo bruv, give yourself a pat on the back you egotistical prick.

Oh wait.

you can't, none of you can, cuz you're all fucking dead! Nowhere to be found, probably buried 10 feet under in some shallow grave in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere, yeah that's right, you're all dead AND I'M STILL FUCKING ALIVE

WHY

I don't fucking know

god knows I wish to be fucking dead

But I just can't seem to get there, I mean, I got what I wanted, Martha's dead, Alesa's death was avenged, that's it, time to [ack ur stuff and say farewell à la bullet-to-the-dome express. Yet here I am, in this park, half buzzed-half high, middle of the night, on my own.

Yeah snapped at Franky earlier to leave me alone, still feel kind of shitty about it, however in my defence, I was planning on killing myself and I didn't want him to stop me. But like I said, I've been on this bench for 8 hours now, my gun safely tucked away into my jacket, thought I'd just blow my brains out and be done with it BUT I FUCKING CAN'T

and i don't know why

My hand just can't seem to have enough strength to grip the gun and raise to my temple, which is fucking stupid, it makes no fucking sense, I shouldn't have this problem at all. I literally have nothing left to live for, all of my friends are fucking dead, all I have to look forward to is a lifetime of paranoia and near-death experiences, and rcentl I found out that I can't seem to get a decent amount of sleep no matter how much I try, because that kid's tear filled face FUCKING haunts me. He's always there, staring at me with those giant eyes of his, fuc kman I knew I was going to get fucked over, but I was hoping that it would end in me dying, not... fucking this.

And where in the fuck is the tall fuck!? I thought he got a slender boner for when one of his victims was alone in a forested area in the middle of the night, well here i am fucker, where the fuck are you!?

this is fucking stupid FUCK

You're not as clever as you think you are.

 Martha.

That's right, we know you're not dead, we knew from the start.

It was a good plan, because we didn't know what you look like, there was no way to be sure that was really you that tried to suicide bomb us in the mansion. But you weren't clever enough to ask yourself, if Franky was there, why didn't we just use him to Path out of the mansion, or ask him to send some Denizens our way to help us out, instead deciding to fight it out ourselves?

Because by the time that the explosion went off, him and some of his Denizens were crawling all over the forest, looking over every entrance of the Mansion, making sure to watch out for anything suspicious. So when one of the vans that was parked at the front entrance of the mansion took off just as the explosion happened, it didn't take a genius to figure out that you were never inside of that mansion. That the mansion was just a decoy, just like the young woman that blew herself up to protect you. I actually feel bad for her, to throw her life away thinking that she is doing so in the service of your Tall Master, I still remember the words she spoke to me right before she detonated the bomb that was on her lap: "There is only Father and I am my Father's tool."

Poor, naïve idiot. I wonder how she would feel right now, when she would find out that she wasn't her "Father's" tool, but yours. What kind of lies did you feed her to convince her into thinking that her throwing her life away in order to allow you to get away, was in the service of the Tall Bastard? I'm sure I'll find out when we have our conversation. For you see, once Franky saw the Van pulling away from the mansion, him and his pets followed it.

I must applaud your caution, for a whole month you were hopping from one hideout to the other every 3 days, occasionally changing your appearance along the way, a haircut there, a slight tan here. On some level, it was enjoyable to find out that the "Higher ups" are plagued by the same level of paranoia that every regular proxy, or runner go through. Until eventually you stopped at this house, you've been here for a whole week now, I guess my and the idiots little charade of pretending that you're dead worked, it's funny how easy it is to weaponize these blogs against people, but I would know all about that now wouldn't it, after all, I am an ex-proxy.

You won't see this post, like I said, we will be having our own conversation. There will be no time for your people to warn you, because this post will go up as soon as I hear the lock on your door clicking. That's right, all three of us are in your house right now, we were very careful to not touch anything as we were sneaking in, wouldn't want you noticing anything out of place. So why exactly am I writing this post then if you won't see it?

A message to your subordinates. Don't bother trying to warn her, this post has been pre-written, all I have to do to publish it, is press the 'publish' button on my phone and like I said, I will do so only when I hear her coming back into her house. There is nothing you can do to save her, which leads me to my message...

How does it feel? Feeling helpless? Useless? Welcome to the world of all the poor fuckers you torment, all the runners and fellow proxies that you torture on the orders of some "higher up" just because they claim they have a "special" connection with the Faceless Cunt. I hope that when you find her body, on some level your dread will sink in, as the realization of how absolutely pointless you are washes over you. You are not "Father's" tools, not you, not Martha, nobody is. That thing has no need of any of us, nothing you do progresses it's goals, because none of us know if it even has the concept of a "goal". Whatever reason you use to justify your servitude is just that, an excuse, a lie that you tell yourself in order to convince yourself that you are a some kind of stepping stone for a grander purpose. All of it is bullshit and it's bad for you, so hopefully once this "Higher up" is dead, maybe the truth will click in place. But who am I kidding, you will still try to ring her up to warn her of her upcoming demise.

Go right ahead, like I said, futile.

Can't even get a drink

Franky and myself Pathed out of the hideout, so I could get some booze, because I had ran out.

Now before any of you come along, proclaiming loudly how much of a dumb fucking idea it was to not only get drunk, but to do so outside of the safehouse, I'm well aware and at the time could not give less of a shit, could not give less of a shit now either, so save the lecturing.

But yeah, after getting the booze from the closest store, we went to the park, where I proceeded to try and get shit-faced. I was about half a bottle in when he appeared out of nowhere, startling us from behind with that thick Jamaican accent.

Me and Franky scrambled off the bench, me pulling my gun out whilst Franky got into this animal-looking stance, as if ready to pounce at the source of the voice. The weird looking freak just raised his hands, holding a book in one of them, smiling at us revealing his golden teeth.

"Calm yourself and your pet thing, I have not come to raise conflict."

"Yeah, like I'm going to believe that." I tightened the grip on my gun.

"From where I'm standing, you are currently the one that is escalating the situation."

"You're the one who fucking snuck up on us!"

"I did no such thing, to sneak up would imply ulterior motives on my part. What I did was merely approach you."

"The fuck for?" I allowed myself to lower the gun, despite it being night time we were still in the middle of a public park, waving the gun around wasn't a good idea. Franky eased up as well, which in result allowed our visitor to let his hands down.

"You present a quandary, your participation in the current unfolding events is confusing, hence why I'm here, to clarify."

This guy was already annoying me, I was not in the mood for cryptic bullshit at that point in time, it didn't help that I was also buzzed.

"Clarify fucking what? Fuck off dude, before things really escalate." I began to turn towards Franky, about to ask him to Path us out.

"Clarify as to why you are still here." That made me stop, no, not his pseudo-philosophical implications, the fact that he was interested specifically in me.

"The fuck you care?"

"Same reason I keep an eye on any other unravelling event..." He began to slowly pace to the side of the bench that was between us "I am our Grandfather's tool, one of his many tomes, the purpose of which..." He stopped by the side of the bench, probably noticing that we were slowly backing away "Is to learn."

Then he pointed his finger at me.

"You, Kyle (My last name) are a curious part of the events, mainly due to how insignificant you are..." I was about to interrupt him to not-so-politely ask how the fuck he knew my full name, but he just carried on speaking over me "It is quite obvious that, that other... thing..." Heard level of disdain there, which probably meant that he was referring to the Bandaged Idiot. "Is the key part in the events that will unfold, so the question is, why are you still here?"

"Because I love every fucking minute of this hell that I'm in." I proclaimed sarcastically, if you couldn't tell "Look mate, if it's my reasoning you want, go read my blog and stop wasting my time." I was kind of getting tired of the conversation at this point.

He began laughing. That laugh was... too clear for a regular person. You know how when people laugh you can actually hear the throat release air, or their voice go higher, or lower, depending on the type of laugh and all that other similar type of shit? None with this guy, his laugh was way too clear, no change of pitch, no sensation of breath escaping his mouth, nothing, as if he was hollow on the inside.

"You poor, deluded fool." He leaned on the bench with one hand "I have no interest in your petty romanticized, vengeance-fuelled motivations!" He leaned his entire body on the arm of the bench "I am curious as to why you are still here."

Was getting kind of confused at this point, also irritated "Yeah, I got it the first time, no need to re-" then I cut myself off remembering what the bandaged idiot commented on my last post "Wait, are you implying that someone's keeping me here?"

No response, just that smug smirk.

I offered one in return, coupled with a mocking laugh, just for good measure, because what he was implying was absurd "Now I know that you're just some goon in a goofy costume, sorry mate, hate to break it to you, but once all of my shit is done here, I'm blowing my brains out."

Whatever smirk I had on my face disappeared quickly when he gave out that empty laugh again "Is that so?" He got off the arm of the bench and began walking away from us with his arms folded "Be weary Kyle (My last name) the out you think you have, may not be as accessible as you might think." He stopped and turned around, holding his book by his chest "Think about why you're still around." He offered a last smirk before opening his book, from which a wave of pages suddenly flew in our faces, obscuring our vision of the costumed freak.

Once the pages settled on the ground and I could see clearly again, he was gone. Following him, the pages fell apart into dust and were blown away by the wind.

Fuck this shit, can't even get shit-faced in peace.

there was no soldier

 THERE WAS NO FUCKING SOLDIER

it was her... she was dangling off of that tendril, looking at me, that warm smile still on her face

dear fucking christ i saw her entrails, seeping out of her stomach, blood in gallons pouring onto the floor, hearing every drop hit the wood AND THERE WAS NOTHING I COULD FUCKING DO ABOUT IT

WHY

just let her go FOR FUCK SAKE just let her rest

FUCK

Thank You Lockdowns

The idiot locked himself in the bathroom with his little book.

Good, gives me some peace and quiet to write up this post. So hunt for Martha Hall, it's been rough, when I looked through Charle's internet banking on his phone (Idiot left autofill on) he did indeed receive payment directly from Martha Hall at some point. Which is out of the ordinary because scrolling through his bank statement, whenever there was a monetary influx of a significant amount, it was always from indirect accounts. I'm not sure why she decided to pay him directly from her account and it doesn't really matter, what did matter is now I could track her IP, meaning that I could find the location from which the transaction was conducted at the time.

Now assuming she is paying attention to this blog (Or, let's be real, has someone else doing it for her) I am obviously not going to state what the location was, hoping that she herself doesn't remember where she conducted that payment from. So the next step will be to travel there and hopefully find something that will lead me to her.

Oh and Martha, since again, you are probably reading this, I will find you, there is no doubt in my mind about that, I'm more confident about my chances now than ever before. Simply for the fact that your constant jumping around the country has now been effectively halted, no doubt about it, all thanks to covid and the lockdown it has forced on this country. I know for a fact that you are cooped up somewhere and can't move, you're fucked. So do me a favour, when I find you, do give me a proper explanation as to why you killed her, in your spare time rehearse the explanation, because I don't want to go through a stutter-fest much like I did with Charles, got it? Good.

That's pretty much it.

Oh, another thing, The Idiot remarked that he knew of my back-and-forth emails with Hannah, now him knowing about this doesn't bother me, what bothers me is HOW he knows about it. Once he gets out of the bathroom, I plan to get an answer to that question, because I don't particularly enjoy the idea of the idiot hacking into my email, or however else he learned of my conversations with Hannah. On the positive side, if he did indeed somehow hack into my emails, that means that he is paranoid of foul play coming from my side at some point, which is hilarious to think about. Good, let him be paranoid.

Silent Period.

 Yeah, not dead, yet.

So the bandaged dumbass needed help deciphering his stupid fucking book, he was definitely stumped, I remember hearing him rage in the other room, outright yelling at the book, it was hilarious. Eventually I guess he decided to seek out help and despite the void-like silence on this website, he actually managed to pull someone out of nowhere to help him out. In retrospect, it shouldn't be all that surprising, considering the two of them ran into each other before.

Yeah, this is how we ended up meeting up with Ghost... and Hannah I guess.

That's actually the reason as to why we had such a long period of silence, because in order for us to meet up, Ghost gave us a specific date and time to wait until before we could try and travel to wherever the hell they would choose to meet.

I'm not sure why Ghost decided to help out Kelevra, but whatever, all I knew is that I didn't want to go, seemed like a waste of my time. But the asshole used the fact that it was my turn to help him out per our agreement, so me and Franky ended up coming along regardless. Still not sure wtf he needed help with, since they both seemed to work things out pretty well without us needing to be there.

Once the time came, we Pathed to the address that Ghost provided us with, it was the back entrance of some kind of research centre out in the middle of nowhere, I wasn't even sure what country we were in. It seemed to be closed down for the night, leaving behind a few security guards I'd assume, Bandaged Nonce not being one for subtlety was more than ready to break and enter, however he was stopped by Ghost, who just casually strolled out from behind one of the walls.

What can I say about Ghost, dude's a creep who wears balaclava over his head with no mouth hole, with his eye holes covered up by some kind of white material, obscuring his eyes. Dressed in a white lab coat, white leather gloves, white pants and white shoes, basically the name fits. Behind him was Hannah, a bit shorter than Ghost, red hair and rubber gloves.

Objecting to Kelevra's method of entry, Ghost offered instead that we sneak through after which he took out a card, scanning it against the built in card lock on the back entrance, making the door open without setting off any alarms. The facility was huge, with very few security guards around, guess they figured nobody would try robbing this place since it was in the middle of nowhere.

Eventually all five of us made it to the lab that Ghost needed, it had all sorts of shit in it: Microscopes, vials and the other typical shit you'd find in a research lab, I still wasn't wtf this place was, or how exactly Ghost knew where to go for that matter. I didn't even get the chance to ask those questions because both him and Kelevra sent me, Franky and Hannah to keep watch. Not sure why they sent all three of us out, considering the room they were in was positioned in a corridor, one side of which led to a dead end and the other side led to the stairs and the elevator, both of which weren't visible until you turned a corner that led to the room they were in, meaning that only one person was good enough for the job, as all they would have to do was keep an eye on that corner and that's it.

But hey, fuck it, Bandaged Moron is wasting his turn, which I don't mind at all.

So yeah myself, Franky and Hannah sat around for around an hour with nothing happening, keeping an eye on that corner, nothing to do but talk about random shit, it was whatever.

After that Kelevra and Ghost came out of the room, Kelevra happily holding his book, telling us that we were done. After that we pathed out leaving Ghost and Hannah there on their own, I'm sure they managed to get out without any issue, so yeah overall, a pretty uneventful trip, which is good.

Oh right, almost forgot, upon our return Kelevra was wondering on a way to inhale a lot of smoke in one go, or whatever, so I ended up explaining to him the concept of hotboxing, fucking sheltered idiot.

...

Search for Martha Hall is going well, I guess. It's actually very easy to track someone, when suddenly, all the previously available trails start disappearing, pro tip, if you want to throw off your tracker, deleting everything in a panic isn't going to work, it just confirms what information should have been followed up on before.

So yeah, that's going well, I guess...

Today's the day, fuck.

I didn't, I don't want to write about this, I don't want to write about her, but I guess, because of the shit I've seen recently, the shit I survived, it feels kind of fucked that I never stopped to talk about her on the day of her death.

13th of October, first time I pumped myself on servant blood to go and slaughter a bar of Timberwolves, who I thought were responsible for her death on this day. It's been so long, 6 fucking years now and everything seems like a blur, how everything changed. Fuck me, I'm so fucking retarded, I had no idea how good I had it, how good WE had it. Roof over our heads, food to eat, beds to sleep in, each other and all we had to do was sometimes spook some people, sometimes kill some people, whatever, small price to pay for a bit of normalcy. And then everything went to shit because of egos and other stupid shit similar to that and if anybody else had died from that, Franky or Claude, I don't think I'd have reacted the way I reacted to her death. With any of them it would have been fair, we were the ones who were doing the leg work, tracking, killing, scaring, it was us, she never did any of that shit, she couldn't bring herself to do something horrible to another human being and none of us minded, so she'd stay behind at the house and prep food, patch us up, dig for info and overall... just keep the spirits up, or some shit.

She DIDN'T FUCKING deserve it, FUCKING ANY OF IT

Why in the fuck did he have to CHOOSE ME over her!? WHY!? Why did he let them kill her instead of me!? I DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND! Was it FUCKING FREINDSHIP!? WTF WAS THE POINT!? HE MUST HAVE KNOWN THAT I'D FIND OUT, HE MUST HAVE KNOWN THAT OUR FRIENDSHIP WOULDN'T LAST AFTER HER PASSING, WTF WAS HE THINKING!? WAS HE THINKING!?

fuck

Franky is cooking us a meal, had no idea he knew how to cook, most of the times over here we eat take out, or some fast food crap, much easier and less time consuming, I looked through her posts on this blog and instantly it made sense why he was prepping us a meal all of a sudden, because he also knows what day it is, he learned how to cook from her. Fuck man, she was so kind to everybody, it was infectious, that's the only reason I was willing to help Sanna back in the day, because of Alesa, if Alesa wasn't there to urge us to help her, there was no fucking way we were going to put ourselves in the crosshairs of various freaks that Sanna tended to attract. This FUCKING STUPID attitude of wanting to help EVERYONE, so FUCKING STUPID and yet, we did it, and we pulled it off.

Alesa we miss you                                                                                                i miss you

                                    i wish it was me instead of you

                                                                                        fuck this