Saturday, December 22, 2012

Its Not Everyday That You Get to Save the World

We did it. I don't know how, but we did it. We're out. We defied the future and we won. I say 'we' because in the end, I really couldn't have done it on my own. Thinking back now, saying I was going to deliver the world single-handedly seemed arrogant and foolish. Even with help, even with preparations, even with a last minute twist of fate, we only just escaped the house. So lets begin shall we?

As you know my last post was posted about a 9:45 the night after last. At that point I'd noted that Niddhogr/Slender Man/whateveryouwannacallem was circling the perimeter of the house in an ever tightening loop. The nature of this probing wasn't normal (for whatever given value 'normal' applies to my life now). It would be in one spot standing and staring at the house until one of us blinked (I had the east and north, Surge had the south and west), and then it'd be gone. That was always the worst part, NOT knowing were the thing was. But everytime that happened, it'd reappear on another side closer still. That was until about 10:20 that night, when it vanished altogether. After ten minutes of frantic searching outside, we warily shifted it inside. Another half hour or so later, we confirmed that the three of us (Jessica had been in bed for a while) were still alone in the house. We went back to watching the perimeter, but well, nothing happened for one, two, and even three hours. At 2:15 AM on the morning of doom, I was starting to wonder if I'd made a mistake in listening to the invisible posts.

That's we the noise started. Footsteps; soft, clear, and menacing. At first it sounded like they were coming from the attic (which would have been impossible in itself, its a lake remember), but then it sounded like it was coming from the basement. So, we slowly followed the source of the noise, each new corner and closed door stopping our hearts. As we hunted up and down we found that our traps had disappeared. Gone were the tripwires, caltraps, and precariously placed blades. Even my special trap (dubbed: The Last Hurrah) consisting of two oil drums and match on a pulley had simply disappeared. At that point I really didn't miss them; in my terror I realized just how clumsy these traps really were. Then Surge took off, saying he had a plan. Well, I followed him, and the 'plan' turned out to be waiting for the end in Jessica's room.

Jessica's doing fine by the way, just want to get that out there. In fact, she's getting a little stronger every week. I don't feel right imparting how much money I put down to get the right equipment and chemicals, but as long as she continues the treatment, she'll at least make it through January.

Anyway, we sat and waited in her room, shaking as we eyed the solitary door leading in and out for an hour straight. Its a cliche I'll admit, but that hour was the longest hour of my life. Every little creak, every shift in air, heralded the arrival of our tormentor, and our doom. It was a little past 5:00 AM when the footsteps approached the room. Another eternal minute passed before the door began to slowly creak open, and another still before it entered. It was unsettleing at a distance, but the thing was pure hysteria up close. It moved as though it had no bones, eerily fluid and slow. It had to stoop to enter the room, and upon doing so it straightened up to tower over us. I panicked, unloading a full clip of twelve into the thing at less than a meter, but it didn't even flinch. It just slowly cocked its head in curiousity or amusement, hard to tell which. It took a pair of steps forward before Surge (with far more courage than I at that time) launched himself at the thing. With a lazy swat of its freakishly-long arm, Surge tumbled through a nearby wall and collapsed.

I stood before it now, frozen not only with fear, but despair. You see, as it neared, its features came into sharper focus, as did the strange noises on the edge of hearing. One detail I'll never forget is the creature's coat (although I highly doubt that's what it really is), the buttons weren't buttons at all, they were eyes, eyes staring at me, whispering to me. These whispers proclaimed the swift victory of Great and Powerful Niddhogr, the Famished, the Unmerciful. This world was just another in a string of meals, and like the rest no one would remember us, or even know that we had ever existed. What use was it to fight? He'd only win in the end. Better to lay down arms and embrace one's fate, in vain hope that your consumption would at the very least, be quick. To my continuing shame, I listened to the voices. I'll offer no excuse, but I will remind you that they were quite persuasive. They seemed to push away all thoughts to the contrary, you knew that there were arguments you could make against the words, but they seemed to be... over there... just out of reach. All that was left were the words, which suddenly began to seem very sensible indeed. After all, he was stronger than me, why shouldn't he be allowed to devour as he pleased? In fact, as I pondered, it seemed less a inevitability, than a duty to be consumed, then less a duty, than a wonderful privilege!

And then I lowered my shotgun. The voices stopped, and 'Great and Wonderful Niddhogr' stabbed me on the shoulder with a tentacle, picked me up, and tossed me into a corner. I could feel some sinister poison worming its way through my veins, chilling my blood and clouding my thoughts. Through the gathering fog I saw the thing, the Abomination, standing at the foot of the little girl's bed, perhaps momentarily lost in the heady anticipation of another meal, when, with a purifying fire, the realization of the creature's mission swept through my mind. Somehow, someway, one small child was holding him back, no, not just a small child, a sick, very sick, little girl was somehow stronger than this menace from beyond. I laughed at the irony, softly at first, but before long I was caught up in a tidal wave of mirth.

The thing turned to me, voices once more whispering in my head to keep silent, and welcome my sad fate. But I would not be quieted so easily, not on this last chance to laugh before the world crashed around me. It stood over me, voices warning me again to be silent. At this point I noticed Surge groggily awakening, and I knew there was a chance for him and his daughter to get away. So I continued, laughter turning to mocking, as I asked it why it was unable to overcome a sick little girl. The next thing I knew I had been hurled halfway across the second floor, landing hard in yet another pile of junk. The laughter had ceased, and I knew I had gone too far. Niddhogr was angry, and I realized I had to keep it as far away from Jessica as possible. I tried to get to my feet but it was already on me, grasping me by the neck. The whispers sneered at my foolishness, asking what power I thought I wielded that the Great and Powerful Nidhoggr knew not? Had I swallowed worlds and laid low empires? Had I drank the firey light of a thousand suns and gorged upon a thousand moons?

No, I replied, I'm just a part-time Barber from the Northwest, and I haven't committed such wonderful and awe-inspiring atrocities, but please do continue. For my insolence, I was thrown against a support pillar, breaking my arm and nearly blacking out. Still I knew it was toying with me, and I didn't have the power to survive another throw, let alone fight back. My mind raced as it slowly approached for the final blow, trying to think of a some small distraction to buy Surge and Jessica time to escape. But Great and Powerful Nidhoggr, I said, surely even one so mighty as you has weakness? Surely there is something you fear, O deadliest of enemies? I flopped away from a lashing tentacle, which ripped clean through the pillar, one of the two holding up the third floor and-

The Attic, or more specifically, its occupant. Surely the sea beast would at least give it pause? And surely enough, in my moment of great need, the house provided. My oil drum trap, 'The Last Hurrah' was among the things that spilled out of a closet unto a second pillar. The thing was distracted for a crucial second, and I dived for away from the trap into another pile. But as I groped for a match or a lighter, I felt constricting tentacles grab me once more. I kicked and struggled, but the poison and fatigue were taking their toll, and I was dragged out to be squeezed to death. Just as suddenly, the pressure ceased, and I was released. Before I met back up with Surge, I thought he was the one who saved me, but he says they he was halfway across the field with Jessica at that point. I don't know who it was that I saw grappling with Niddhogr and twisting him over to the drums, but I'm sure he was also the one who dropped a box of matches on my chest. Instinct took over, and with one fluid movement a head was lit and hurled into the waiting trap, the blast enveloping Niddhogr and my mysterious rescuer at point blank range. The pillar gave way, and the entire third floor and attic collapsed. The mystery man was no where to be seen, but Niddhogr was quickly awash in a torrent of salt water. It was here at last, that I discovered his weakness; well, truth be told, not really a weakness, more of a roadblock. But the water seemed to stun him for a few moments at least, enough time for the bear-dolphin thing to set upon him. I could hear there epic struggle as I escaped the house with nothing more than the clothes on my back and the knowledge that the world was momentarily safe.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Doomsday's Eve

Well, this is it. Night of the Final Day and all that. If nothing happens tommorrow, I must've done something right. I won't sugar coat this, I'm probably going to die, or worse yet, live for a lot longer. I've already spotted the enemy a couple of times, he's a lot taller than I remember, more menacing too. Now that I think about it more clearly, there's no way I could have mistaken this thing for human. Its pushing nine feet tall, and its limbs are held all wrong, like a marionette dangling by a single string. It gets a little closer every hour, but it just stands there watching. Ol' Faithful is loaded and ready to go, but come to it, it feels like a block of wood against whoever or whatever is waiting for its chance.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Five Stages

Wow, how long has it been? Two months now? Sorry about that, but I've got a good reason after all, get ready cause this is gonna be a long one.

First and most important: we have only two days until the world ends. No, I'm not talking that Mayan Calender garbage, I'm talking writing on the wall, under my nose this entire time. Around the start of November, I happened to review the blog, and what do I see? A lot of posts I didn't write. What's worse? They're from two-hundred and fifty years in the future. (There's also some posts from fifty or so years ago but those aren't that important). At first I just thought it was a glitch or something until I tried highlighting it. Apparently some entity known as Níðhöggr is going to eat our world hollow, all because of lack of water or something, its hard to make out. I went through all the stages of course:
therightmaninthewrongplacecanmakeallthedifferenceintheworld
Denial- After reading all of them I tried deleting them, thinking it was some punk hacker. But try as I might, I couldn't get the horrid things to go away. They just popped back in a second later. Which, if it really is from the future, makes sense, since it won't be written for two and a half centuries. I showed it to Surge, who suddenly became very upset. He told me that he's been having a recurring dream that sounded eerily like the future posts, and then said I should cross reference with Walking Beneath the Sky. Sure enough:
wakeupBartholomew
Woe, woe, woe! Ashes and dust! Fire and pain! Betide [unintelligible] moons of wrath... but when? soon,now!? nonononono with sadness,withlast! last guard falls [unintelligible] come the end of all fire... FIRE FIRE FIRE! consumeconsumeconsume eatstheworldhollow the treenomore the treenomore [festering?] judgment uponu sall maw of flame whensheisdeaddeaddead eat us all [rest is unintelligible] blodied eyes, and, and THIRST! thirstthirstthirstthirstthirst everywhere even now everywhere! hunger burning hunger never waking always watching everywhere no clouds no rain eternal flame... all your fault... consumeconsumeconsume...

Anger- That's all the evidence I needed at that point. Somehow, I had to save the world, and I hadn't the first clue how to go about it. I got angry, very angry. It wasn't a sudden fit either, it was a slow, steady boiling temper, an ever rising wrath as each second gave new insight to the unfairness of it all. Why me!? What did I do to deserve this!? Why couldn't it be someone else!? WHY!?!?!? I didn't shout, no, I didn't even stomp around. I just looked at the walls and steeped myself in self-righteous fury. This went on for about a day or two (without food and little rest), before...
wakeupandsmelltheashes
Bargaining- Religion's a private matter for me, and I'm sure no one wants or needs to know just how many fantastic and empty promises I made that night.

Depression- The worst week of my life, hands down. I managed to choke down some food from time to time, but the abject misery I was feeling forced it back up again; and I roamed the halls for seven consecutive nights.What was the point of flailing around in vain? We were all gonna die, ore worse, and nothing I could do would help in the least... what's the point... etc. etc. In fact, if it wasn't for Surge, I probably would have taken my own life. But November started winding down after all... and I arrived at:

Acceptance- Somehow, someway, I had to be the one to stop this thing. No matter what happens, I'm not going to back down. This Nidhoggr wants a fight? He/she/it is in for a big one.

And so Surge and I went to work. The house is now a fortress. Tricks and traps out the wazoo, you name it, we got it. just two more days until the end of the world, and I'm ready.

Two more days and I'll have my revenge.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Walking Beneath the Sky

It looks like I've been neglecting the blog huh? Let's remedy that.

Well, the last week has been a blast. Surge may seem like an uptight guy, but when you get to know him, he's a barrel of laughs. Together we've been fixing up around the house (even Jessica was able to pitch in a bit), and the other day we stumbled upon something in the second-floor closet. Its a complete copy of my father's book, Walking Beneath the Sky. Now, I should be sure to point out that my father wasn't exactly... right in the head in his last few years. I'm not quite sure when it started (I would have been less than five years old when he died), but he sort of went off the deep end. He kept a journal of his ramblings, the aformentioned book, which chronicled his descent into madness. Describing the book would be futile; as you can see from one entry I pulled at random:
-Note that word or phrases within [] are guesses, my father's handwriting is fairly poor.

thewinds against me? nononononono withme! always withmeand for what a [semblance] of peace no find the key find the key find the key find the key is watching? yes is always watching tall as the clouds malice [unintelligible] without eyes (without eyes withouteyes noeyesno) hecomes! comescomescomescomes comes always watching yes shadows darkness [neither? weather?] noeyes keep erofsafe breathing inthewell watc her in thewoods yes no comessoon yes [rest is unintelligible]

Not too straightforward. However, there are a few entries that are (for the most part) lucid, like the fragment I read at the trial, and this one: redlies

Another attack today. Father is still trying to rationalize it away but the strain is starting to show. I emptied both barrels into the thing at point blank range and it didn't buckle, it just stood and watched. Its always watching, it never does anything else, at least not to us yet. The Millwright's daughter has gone missing now; it'll be only a matter of days before the police find her empty husk suspended from a tree like the others. I'm terrified of this creature, yet at the same time I can't help but feel drawn to it. Just what is it? What does it want? Can it be harmed at all? Father must have a plan, he spends long nights in the basement, kept company with all manner of noise. There's a showdown coming; it might be tommorow, but its coming soon. The pall of fear over the town intensifies by the day, and something has to give.

Looks like I'm not the first one to see the Tall Man. orthelast

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Surge

As you may have noticed, I haven't been posting for a while now. This is due to an event that I must carefully word if I wish to avoid serious consequences. In late September I contacted an individual that I'll call 'Surge'. I was aware of Surge's problems, but I discovered that he was in far more trouble than I had known. We struck a deal, I'd help him out, and he'd supply me with some of the answers to the problems I've been having over the past few months. It wasn't easy, but I was able to rescue him, and he's now safe at the house (or whatever 'safe' means at this time).

At this point I feel I must stress that 'Surge' is NOT Victor Svend, who was convicted last month on multiple counts of extortion and sentenced to fifteen years without possibility of parole. Its only a matter of coincidence that Surge has agreed to help me look after Mr. Svend's daughter Jessica, and accepted my offer of intensive treatment of her condition. I have heard rumors that Svend has somehow managed to escape, and his whereabouts are currently unknown, but I am unable to confirm this. All I know is that Surge has a few leads as to the nature of my current predicament, and I'm out of any other options in the meantime.
notthefirsttimeyouvedefiedthelaw
And that's all I have to say on this matter.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

apologies

Sorry about lack of posts, I... had to do something. As soon as I can word it right I'll tell you. But right now, bed.

Monday, September 10, 2012

The Second Floor

Back in March I said that the second floor was empty of everything but bugs and the odd piece of debris. Unlike the incident with the Attic, that was the whole truth. The thing is, it didn't stay that way. You see, in early May I was lying in bed thinking (something to do with food, I believe) when I hear a loud crash above my head. Remember that incident in April with the mysterious noise and the footprints? Well, I think I've solved one of those things. The noise I was hearing were rooms and closets bursting open and spilling mountains of junk onto the second floor. At this point I'm getting tired of pointing out when something wierd happens, but its worth repeating: Until I went up there in May the Second Floor and all rooms/closets therein were COMPLETELY EMPTY. Now every time I go up there there's a new pile of odds and ends. Its not normal stuff either. Sure, there's chairs and clothes and other things that you'd expect to see in a linen closet. But among the strange flotsam I've found (when I was cleaning out that closet I mentioned in that other post:

-Bones
-Chess Pieces
-Facets
-Gears
-Horseshoes
-Letters
-Mannequin Parts
-Propeller Blades
-Sewing Machines
-Teeth
-Umbrellas
-Vases
-Weathervanes


Its all dust covered, and none of it is ever in one piece. I haven't even begun to try to sort through the pile for anything useful, it could take weeks, and every few days or so I hear another crash signalling the arrival of even more garbage. I'm worried about the structural stability of the house if this keeps up, its kind of fortunate about my lack of sleep where that's concerned. Wouldn't want to be buried under an avalanche of junk after all... beneathhumanitieswakeliestheprophetstestament

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

The Imposter

He's back. Sve- no, not Svend... let's call him... The Imposter; has been watching me from a distance off and on for the last few days. I've had half a mind to charge out guns blazing and take him down, but well, with all the crazy stuff I've been through, that's probably not a wise idea. No, he'll have to come to me, take me on while I have the high ground; and I've got more than a shotgun at my disposal, believe me. I was reluctant to call Svend and find out more about this guy (I was the chief character witness so I'm pretty sure he got off), but it turns out it didn't matter; I've been unable to reach him anywhere. If all else fails, I'll have to go back up to the courthouse and talk to him face to face. What was I talking about before? Oh yes... the Imposter. You'd really think it would be getting to me, but really I'm not that bothered by it. The house is pretty hard to break into, and well... to tell the truth I haven't been getting much sleep lately. I don't feel weak or tired either, it's one of the strangest things yet.
sleepafteryourtaskisdone
Wonder how long it's gonna last...

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

[Redacted]

Remember back in April when those storms passed through, and I noted that my basement was flooded? Do you also recall that I said it wasn't more than a couple of
inches or so? Yah, that was lie. I could literally enter the water after a couple of steps (keep in mind that the staircase to the basement is about twenty steps). The rest of what I said was true, but instead of a dry area around the locked door, the water was being forced away by an invisible barrier. Needless to say I was pretty freaked out when it all disappeared overnight.

Then, about halfway through May, I discovered where it went. I was cleaning out a closet on the second floor (another thing I'll have to tell you about), and I fell through the back wall into... well... an ocean. Somehow, I'd fallen downwards from the second floor to the attic, an attic larger and deeper than a football stadium filled to bursting with saltwater. Then the noise started; a deep rumbling bellow. The only light in the attic came from sunbeams that had worked their way through
the cracks in the roof, but it was enough to see the the shadow twisting in the depths below me. I swam as fast as I could for an isle of furniture floating near one of the roof struts.

I almost didn't make it. I could hear wood being smashed to pieces, but I didn't dare look behind me until I was up on the strut. Whatever the thing was, it was big, and it was ugly. If you were to mix a bear and a dolphin into a single creature, run over the result repeatedly, and let the carcass bloat in a boiling sun for a week, you'd have a pretty good idea what it looked like. I didn't wait for it to try and make another pass, because I had punched a hole in the roof and made my escape.
therewillbenowarning
If I'd shared this story with you a month or two ago, I would have tried to explain it away. I would have theorized, conjectured, and out and out lied to fit this event in the rational, logical world that I once belonged to. I would have failed. Have I gone off the deep end? Maybe, but I'm going to see this madness through to the end. I'm going to find answers, even if they make less sense than the questions I asked to find them.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Witness

Yesterday was perhaps the worst day of my life. I actually didn't think I'd make it to today, the guilt was so intense. The rope is still hanging on the second floor, (yes I'm back at the house) and after this post I may just use it. I just don't know how else to cope with the pain; and the fear of what might come next.

So there I was, back in the courthouse talking about how Svend's been messing with my head, when he walks in the door. He was a wreck. Scraggly beard, hasn't showered in weeks, the whole hobo look. Thinking this was some pathetic act to earn sympathy from the jury, I started laying into him; yelling about how I'm going to put him away for the things he's done (I named them too), when the door opened again. A nurse walks in steadying a small girl with crutches. Svend apologized for his lateness, saying that he'd only just convinced the police that he really did have a relative with a terminal illness. And what did I do? Did I roll my eyes, did I sit down? No. I screamed at the girl to quit faking, so that Svend would get off. If only she had cried, or yelled back, or hobbled away, anything else. No, she toddled up and said: "Daddy's sorry he tried to steal your money Mister K. There wasn't no other way before Christmas." There was silence for about a minute, before the nurse told me that this girl, Jessica Svend, had a rare illness called Sutton's Disease, a condition that slowly degraded the bones until the body collapsed under its own weight. "She's not going to make it to New Year's without treatment." the nurse said. Yes, what Svend had done was wrong; but if you were in such a desperate position, what would you have chose to do? His wife had died two years earlier and he'd lost nearly every case up until he started defrauding people, what choice did he have? At least I had the decency to walk out of the courtroom after my shameful outbourst.

Oh, but I've only just begun. As I was leaving, the court officer pulled me aside and asked if I was sure that I'd seen Svend following me recently. I said that I was positive, but he only shook his head. Turns out Svend's been under house arrest since a week after I got the call he was being investigated (which is why he'd only just got back in contact with his daughter). Which begs the question: Who's been following me since then? I'd still swear it looked like Svend, down to the suit and everything. But it... but it wasn't. Even now, when I think about it, I get a little bit uneasy; like something's just... out of place. I can't really explain it; and that's really disturbing. I'm the kind of person who always has to have a reasonable explanation for everything, and last night... well... I've had to come to grips with the fact that some truly bizarre stuff has been happening around here. I've been slowly building Svend up into this mythical boogieman, an omnipotent tormentor who's been responsible for everything out of place in my life since I moved in here. And know that I've found out he's just a desperate man trying and failing to protect the only one he has left; I've discovered just how desperate I've become myself...

There's so much I haven't told you, world. There's so many things I've been running away from. No longer. I'm getting to the bottom of all this. This house is going to start talking to me, this house is going to yield every last one of its secrets. Its time I accepted the full share of my inheritance.
notimeforwalls
Its time I tell you about what happened in the attic.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

The Burning Trail

Svend's following me now. I'll be enjoying a refreshing beverage in the coffeeshop and he'll be watching from across the street. He shadows me everywhere I go. I knew that the man was desperate, but this is just insane. Normally this would be a big problem, but I've got more than Ol' Reliable at my disposal (Concealed Carry, Wink-Wink, Nudge-Nudge). The way things have been going, I'd almost welcome a back alley showdown with this man.

What's happened now you ask? He's been sending me letters. No matter which hotel I enter, no matter how many rooms I check into, I always find a fresh stack of letters sitting by my head when I wake up the next morning. They're not normal letters either, they burst into flame whenever I open them. It must be some sort of chemical reaction, because there's this kind of dust or ash in all of the envelopes. Svend's out of his mind. First it was phony lawsuits, then he's messing with me psychologically, and now this! I've called the courthouse and related everything that's been happening, and they agreed to move the trial up to the 25th.

Until then, I've just got to kept a can of water on me at all times.
willitquellthecomingfire

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Feelin' Fine

Its been two weeks since I left the house, and in the end, I think I'm making the right decision with the rennovation (yes that's what I'm calling it now, sue me). I'm lopping off the attic and the third floor, and I'll be replacing it with a rooftop patio (and maybe a retractable sun canopy). As for the basement, I'm filling that up with cement and never looking back. Finally, I'm going to completely retool the surrounding area. I was getting sick at looking at brush and gnarled trees anyway. Maybe I'll repaint the house for good measure. willyouteardownourhopeforafuture

As for my showdown with Svend, that's coming up on the 28th. There's so many things I want to say to that man.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Liberty and Litigation

Wow. I can't tell you how good it feels to be out of the house. Its like this pall of fear and paranoia
has been lifted off of my shoulders. The sun shines brighter, the breeze caresses my hair, its wonderful. I've rented an apartment downtown while I figure out how I'm going to go about demolition. Yes, I'm still going through with it. I almost changed my mind, (I think the events were starting to get to me), but in the end I stuck with it. However, I'm probably not going to level the house, just get rid of a few... problem areas.

Still, its going to be a couple of months at the earliest because something else has come up. The people investigating Svend have been trying to contact me for almost five weeks now. They need me as a character witness in his corruption trial, and I was all too happy to oblige them. Remember when I said I was willing to accept the things that have happened to him and leave it at that? I changed my mind. I've caught him following me around the city. He's off in the distance, but its obviously him. I don't know of anybody else that's more than seven feet tall and wears a suit in the dead of summer. And now its all beginning to click into place. He's out to get me. I cost him his career, exposed him for the fraud he is, and now he's facing decades behind bars. He's angry and desperate. But he's not the type to beat you up in a dark alley, no no no, he's got much more sinister ways to get back at those who've messed up his plans. Everything that's been happening has been because he's trying to scare me out of the house. Sure, it needs a bit of sprucing up here and there, but its still extremely valueable. He must be trying to run me out of town, then acquire the house with legal slight of hand. I don't know what his plans are to evade jailtime, but even now that he's lost his practice, he'd be set for life in there! The thought of that spindly maniac laughing with glee at my torment makes my blood boil. Get ready Victor, your end is nigh. asisyourdenial

Friday, July 27, 2012

The Lost Summer

Well, I just got back from the doctor's office. There's nothing physically wrong with me, I've just been asleep for two months. TWO MONTHS. I've been in some sort of coma since the night of May 26th. And can you guess where I woke up? That's right! The third floor, AGAIN. I'm still spitting up chunks of dust even now. There weren't any sets of footprints leading to or from me, but given that the footprints from the previous visit are gone, I'm left to assume that I was moved there on the first-

Why am I even still talking about this? I should have been out the house when that stupid door first
appeared (which by the way, is back right where I put that red X). None of this is explainable anymore, and I don't like that ONE BIT. I'm packing my bags and leaving tommorow morning, and I'm not coming back without a pair of bulldozers and a wrecking ball; then I'm burning the rubble.
I'm sorry Grandfather, but whatever's going on isn't right, isn't NORMAL. I know this house must have a lot of memories for you, (well, must have HAD a lot of memories) and I don't want anyone to think that I'm being rash about this. I've spent a good few days mulling over my options, and this is the only way out that I can see. I only hope that you can forgive me for what must be done...
iaskthesameofyou

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Back

I'll explain my absense next post, gotta go.

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Password

Wow. I am so sorry about the gap in posting. I lost the little slip of paper that I keep my passwords on (I use multiple finicky ones so its kinda hard to keep track of, again, I'm paranoid). It took me forever to input the correct password in the exact spacing and capitalization it needed (I have a program that locks me out for a day if I get it wrong three times in a row).
Twostrikes...
Svend's Firm called, and said they were konsidering my offer of testimony, and I'd hear more from them later. Nothing much else to say, except I'm excited for E3 to start. Halo 4 information cannot come soon enough...

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

...Bring May Flowers

Finally got a call from Svend's office. He's in a world of trouble. Turns out that the guy he was with in court wasn't my brother at all; it was just some guy he picked up off the street! They told me that they've discovered a history of him pulling this trick, and that he'll be lucky to get less than twenty years. Before, I would have just told them to forget it; but now that I know that he's been causing problems for other people? He's got to go down. I've told them I'd be happy to testify if they needed me. Not just for the purpose of taking down that man, but also for me. I haven't really been up front with everything that's been going on. Sure, the stuff I have been taking about is... abnormal... but I still think there's a logical explanation. You see, I have this feeling that I'm being watched. It comes and goes, but its really strong whenever I go outside. The things that I couldn't explain were weird, but this... feeling, is different. I'm really hoping that this is something that will pass in time, or that its all in my head.
nomoresecrets
All right, you know what? I'm going to get it over with. There's a history of paranoia on my father's side of my family. Nothing serious, but it is starting to become a cause for concern. I thought it was a blessing when I inherited this place, but now? I'm not so sure...

Sunday, April 29, 2012

April Showers...

Sorry about the lack of posts, last week consisted of wave after wave of storms, and the house took a beating. The second story lost a lot of windows and the basement was flooded. Then the power went out and- well you get the picture. Get ready though, as I've got some more weird stuff for you. The door is gone again. Again, I wasn't there when it disappeared, so I didn't see it fade away or anything. But that's beside the point now (I'm still trying to come up with a theory for the door that won't end with me in a nut house), the strange thing was when the basement was flooded. The area where the door keeps appearing was bone dry. There was literally a semi-circle island in a sea of damp carpet. I've marked the wall above with a big red X using spray paint, but beyond that, I'm just going to ignore it. What I can't ignore is that the basement dried itself. No musty smell, no sodden patches, like there hadn't been any storms at all. Now, it wasn't like the basement was under three feet of water, but I'm pretty sure that something like that isn't normal. But, maybe I'm just being paranoid. thestormhasnotpassed
I've contacted Svend's office, but they haven't replied back, so it looks like I'll have to wait on that for now. Gotta go back to measuring for replacement windows now, my task isn't done.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Lock and Key

Well, I'm not bored anymore. Two things happened to me today that will be occupying me for a bit. First, I went downstairs to start on the basement, and what did I see? The Locked Room. I didn't even entertain an attempt to open it this time; instead, I tried getting proof that it existed. Now remember, the last time I had an encounter with the door everything that required electricity failed to work downstairs. I puzzled through the problem and I hit a brilliant solution. Since I couldn't take a camera downstairs, I focused a camera at the top of the stairwell; then I placed several mirrors to allow me to take an image around the corner. Once I snapped a couple of shots, I uploaded the files to my laptop. That's when the second thing happened. Remember those photos of Svend? I still had the negatives on the camera, but well... they were... different. Before the photos showed an individual in the distance, with the trees clearly leafing and flowering and all that spring stuff. Now the individual has moved to the middle of the field outside my house, and the trees have that summer look to them. Needless to say, I was pretty freaked out before I thought it through. I did drop the camera a few times since them (I am a little clumsy), so the negatives probably got damaged or something. As for the Locked Room? I still have no explanation. turnyoureyestowardsthehorizon

EDIT: Looking over the photos again, I noticed that the Svend in this picture is wearing a black tie, which is strange, because he always wore red in court. Its probably just due to the damaged negatives, but it would explain why Svend seemed so shocked when he saw the photos. Think I might look into this a bit more...

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Bored of Damacles

Wow, I had no idea just how much the trials were occupying my time; I am bored out of my mind. Its not just regular boredom either, its... almost like a pall of mediocrity hanging over my head. Maybe I'm just overthinking this, but it feels like... I don't know... I've lost a part of myself? Perhaps normal life pales in comparison to being put on the spot because you were named in a legal document... Except it wasn't that exciting, mostly it was just sitting still listening to Svend lie through his teeth about me. Which reminds me, while I was paying my lawyer he mentioned that Svend is now under investigation. Don't know what for, but he could stand to be knocked down a peg or two.
orstrungupbetweenthem
Anyways, second floor is cleaned up. Decided to take another whack at the basement instead of trudging through a mire of dust. I'll probably be updating more frequently now that I'm not in court every third day, but the posts won't be as substantial.

Who am I talking to anyway?

Monday, April 16, 2012

Rude Awakening

Look's like that trip to the psychologist's wasn't a waste of money after all. It did provide a reason as to why I woke up on the second floor this morning. I must have been walking all night too, I'm worn out. The only thing I can't explain at this point is my lack of a history with this disorder. I'm a fairly light sleeper, and truth be told, before I moved here I had trouble sleeping from time to time. The thing is, today isn't the first time I've woken up tired. It didn't start the first night here, but I've noticed it has gotten to be a problem as of late. Maybe its some subconcious reaction to the trials? Who knows. Either way, I'm going to have to take it a bit easier on restoring the house from now on. strugglingagaintthecurrentsoftime

Friday, April 13, 2012

Victory

It went better than I could possibly have hoped. Let me reconstruct the scene for you: Mr. Svend had called me up to the witness stand to needle me with ridiculous questions about my mental state. It took a bit of acting, but I was able to steer his line of questioning to my family's lineage. I could tell he was wary of wading into anything to do with my family history, since any inherited illness could be used against my brother as well. Eventually however, he took the bait and asked aloud if any records of my father's remained. He meant it to be a rhetorical question, and the look of triumph on his face made what happened next all the sweeter. I cleared my throat and told him that I was able to salvage a copy of my father's book Walking Beneath the Sky. He tried to laugh it off, but I had my lawyer bring the book to me and I began to read aloud. I won't share the passage I read (my brother still doesn't deserve it), but it worked. The look on the jury's face afterwords was only beaten by Svend's reaction. I could tell he feigned shock at what S. had done, and decided it was time to bail. He did a complete one-eighty degree turn, trying to pretend that he had no idea that his client had done anything of the sort; and that furthermore, his participation was fairly minor. Then came to greatest moment of my life up to now, I asked my lawyer to bring up the pictures I'd taken on Wednesday of Svend snooping around the house and showed them to the judge. Svend rushed up and grabbed the photos, looking over them with his beady eyes as his mouth struggled to frame words. He denounced them as fakes, saying that it wasn't him; but I simply pointed out that there aren't many other seven foot tall pasty bald men in suits out to get me. The judge shook his head at Svend and threw out the case in total. I looked back at my brother, only to find that he'd already left. (I can't say I'm sorry to see him go after all this, but still...) Halfway out the door I turned to give a parting smirk to the man who'd made my life a living hell these past weeks. He was kneeling down on the floor, still looking over the photos with a dumbfounded look on his face; and well, I just couldn't do it. A bittersweet end to a unwanted reunion to be sure. howiregretthatday

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Evidence

I knew it. I happened to look out the back window today and what did I see? A tall man in a suit watching the house from the woods. I must admit that I'm a little surprised Svend's doing his own dirty work, but it doesn't matter. I snapped a few pictures to further compound the evidence, and I contacted my lawyer. He agreed to move up the next court date to Saturday. I can't wait to see that smug smile fall away when we present this. Its going to be wonderful.

In other news, I've finished refurbishing the ground floor. Since I'd rather not deal with the basement yet, I'm moving on to the second floor today. I've got big plans for this mansion, big plans.
thefeelingismutual
EDIT: Apparently Svend thinks we're bluffing, and he's requested that we move the date to Thursday. We told him we'd love too...

Monday, April 9, 2012

Footprints

Ok. Once again I'm at a compete loss as to how I'm going to explain what happened yesterday. But, there I was, minding my own business (replaying Bioshock 1 and 2 while I wait for Infinite) when this- this noise starts up. Now at first, I would say that it sounded like a concrete slab being dropped repeatedly on an iron floor, but that wasn't quite it. It had a... static quality to it, like it was a recording of a slab being dropped being played on bass speakers, but that still isn't quite correct. It stopped as quickly as it started; and after I got over the shock I raced upstairs to locate the source of the noise (after grabbing Ol' Faithful of course). The second floor was empty as usual but the third floor wasn't. Remember how the third floor is covered in dust? Well it still was, but now it has a trail of gigantic footprints in it. Seriously, I measured, each footprint is eighteen inches from heel to toe. Wanna know something else? The footprints started under the window and ended next to a wall. As I've mentioned before the dust in there is extremely sticky, and there is no way I can think of that would allow a person to climb three stories, sliently, and stomp around a dusty room before exiting through a wall. I'm racking my brain to come up with a rational explanation for what's going on and I just can't-
dustdoesnotlie
Actually, now that I think about it, its probably connected to the noises I heard outside a few weeks back. You don't think this is some sort of elaborate hoax do you? Like in those old Scooby Doo episodes were the old man tries to scare the owner of the roller rink/amusement park/aquarium/etc. to sell by dressing up as a ghost? Would my brother really sink to that level? No. No he wouldn't. He may have done other things in his lifetime, but this is too far out for him. Is it Svend? Is he really that stupid? Heh. Guess he's getting desperate! Think I'll let my lawyer know about this. K out.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Truthwalker

Well there's two days I won't be getting back. I'd say I'm pretty much the picture of mental health. Yes, I asked about the locked room. Apparently I sleepwalk, and the whole ordeal was simply a dream. In fact, I went back downstairs and found one of the walls had dents and scrapes on it. So in the end, it was unnecessary, but it sure is a relief to know I'm not losing my mind.
butyouarelosingyoursoul
And the good news keeps on coming. We found a key piece of evidence to support my case in a fragment of my father's book, Walking Beneath the Sky. I've put a good deal of thought into this, and I've decided that even with all the trouble my brother's put me through, I'm still going to withold the worst of the incident from the court. All the jury needs to know is the basics; which directly contradict Ol' Svendy's diatribes. Hopefully this will all be over soon.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

No Foolin'

Yes, yes. I know what day it is, and I'm not going to play along. I've never really liked April Fools all that much anyway (and no, its NOT because I'm usually on the receiving end) so everything in this post is as reliable as all of my previous posts.

Stupid holiday aside, I'm ready to catch you up on what's been going on. Thursday was another court day, and... it didn't go so well. My brother's lawyer is finally getting into his stride, and I have to say, I'm starting to hate that man. His name is Victor Svend, and he is ruthless. Standing at an imposing seven foot three, and bald as marble, Mr. Svend is rather intimidating before he even opens his mouth. He speaks in a low whisper as he works his way around my lawyer's arguments, spinning meaningless but grandiose statements that sound impressive but have little legal weight. Still, the jury is obviously impressed by the guy, and he knows it. Everytime he sits back down after questioning he sends a frustratingly condescending smirk my way. It's really starting to get under my skin. But Thursday was the worst. He'd just gotten through telling the jury that I'd previously served eleven months in a psychiactric ward and that I was showing signs of another mental breakdown. The remark shook me, even though it was only a coincidence (he's thrown a lot of things at me that don't even come close to anything I've done). But this time when he seated himself he forewent the smug look in favor of a knowing glance. The incident left me wondering if he knows more than he's letting on. Or maybe he realized from my expression that he'd finally nailed me on something. Either way, my lawyer says to expect it to come up again; so I'm going to a clinic to prove I'm fine. whoareyoutryingtoconvince

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Two Mysteries

I'm not quite sure what to say at this point, but remember that locked room I talked about? It isn't there anymore. I don't know when it disappeared, but when the locksmith came it was nowhere to be found. The locksmith was a little ticked off at being dragged out here (not too angry though, he was still getting paid), and he said that I should get my head examined (among other things I won't reprint). I've double checked all the doors in the basement and all of them open. I'm really at a loss to explain what I'm experiencing. I'd be inclined to believe it was a dream if I didn't have a garbage bag full of broken tools and a sore shoulder from my encounter with it. I really think I should take the locksmith's advice and at least get a cursory psyche exam, the problem is my brother's lawyer might find out about it and use it against me in court. Evidence of a mental breakdown is the last thing I need at this point.
whichcagewillyouchoose
There's something else. Lately I've been noticing strange noises outside the mansion at night. Now, since I'm out in the middle of a heavily wooded area, the mansion is a little hard to get to. If something were to go wrong, like a break-in or a fire, I'd be on my own. Therefore I've taken the liberty of purchasing a twelve-gauge, in case its not just in my head. Got to go, tomorrow is a court day and I have to prepare.

Monday, March 26, 2012

The Locked Room

Another discovery. Last night I found that one of the rooms in the basement wouldn't open. I tried every last one of the thirty-seven keys I received with the house, and none of them unlocked the door. Undeterred, I retrieved a set of tools from the garage to force my way in. That's when the situation became downright strange. All the electrical tools stopped working in the basement. I know they aren't broken, because I bought them last month and they worked fine on the ground floor. I even changed the batteries twice before giving up and moving on to the regular tools. None of them even scratched the paint of the doorhandle, not even the sledgehammer. (I'm not the strongest guy in the world, but I'm fairly certain that me, plus sledgehammer, plus door, equals no more door.) I'm rather ashamed to admit that I lost my temper at that point. My shoulder is still bruised from the repeated ramming attempts, and I'm the kind of person who can't let a mystery go unsolved. I'm calling a locksmith.joyansorrowliebeyond

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Dust

Nothing at all to report on the second floor, besides an abandoned hornet nest and drawer full of marbles.
thesecondisnotempty
The third floor is a different story. It looks like it hasn't been used in centuries. Seriously, the dust has to be an inch thick, and its everywhere. Its not normal dust either; its the kind that reeks of must and dryness and really impairs breathing after a few minutes. It took forever to get it off me too, I swear it sets like glue. It had to shower three times, and I can still smell it on me. Its highly annoying, and I'm not the type to get annoyed easily. I'm probably not going up there again; and since the attic is the only thing above it (and it has to be even dustier), I'm going to look through the basement this morning. With the way things are going, its probably flooded or something...

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Exploration

No update on the lawsuit at this time I'm afraid. I've taken the liberty of hiring my own lawyer, who assures me that our own case is airtight, and that we'll be able to counter with a slander lawsuit. I told him I just want to get this case over with (he looked rather disappointed), and that I didn't want anything bad to happen to S. I still love my brother, even after all the things that have happened in court. While I'm on the zubject, I've noticed something else about S that bothers me. Before the incident, as my grandfather referred to it, S was outgoing, carefree, and well... loud. Now when I look over at the prosecution I see a silent pale man sitting in the looming shadow of his lawyer. But enough about my troubles, on to the mansion.
justiceonlycomesfromacourtoffools
So far, I've looked over most of the ground floor (I'd estimate roughly ninety percent), and I have to say, this place must have been the very essence of opulence in its prime. The furniture is still in the same position it was all those years ago. I've begun the task of uncovering the main hall and the living room (which itself is almost as large as a normal house), and I've made significant progress with the kitchen and dining hall. I'm starting to get a feel as to how the mansion will look when its been fully restored, and well... its pretty nice. Still, no time to celebrate. Today I'm going to start moving upwards and hit the second floor. Maybe I'll find a clue as to why the frame is made of lead while I'm up there.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Prodigal's Revenge

I haven't posted lately, as I'm sure you'll notice (not that anybody's really reading this blog anyway). For the past few weeks I've been caught in the middle of a legal dispute over the ownership of the mansion with my younger brother, who I'll refer to as S. A few years back, S... well he did something I'd rather not talk about; and this event or series of events ended up costing him his place in my grandfather's will. How this gives him the legal ability to challenge my ownership of the mansion is beyond me, but his lawyer's foot found its way into the door and now everything is uncertain. To be honest, I really hadn't expected to see S again; he up and left after what he did and I haven't really heard from him until recently.

On another note, the electrician checked out my reception problem on the second floor. It turns out that the second floor has a lead framework. This is really strange for a number of reasons. One, the other floors have iron frames, even though they were built within weeks of each other. Two, my grandfather was...kinda paranoid about poison. He never ate or drank anything that he didn't see prepared, and he had an emergency anti-venom pack on every floor. As far as I'm, aware he was pretty savvy about possible harmful chemicals, so why he allowed the second floor to remain is beyond me.
thedeadliestpoisoncannotbeseen
Anyways, I'll try and keep up the updates from now on; barring any unforeseen legal action from S or his freakishly tall lawyer...

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Signal

     The mansion is a lot bigger than I'd thought it would be, its more than half a football field wide and has four levels. (Not counting the attic.) The furniture is fairly old but mostly in good repair, and the wood and carpet give it a rich, luxurious feel. The utilities are functioning well, with one strange exception: the second floor is a wireless dead zone. No matter how I move the transmitter or where I stand, I can't seem to recieve any signal. I've called in a technician to look into the matter and he'll be arriving in a few days. I'm sure its probably just the materials they used to construct the upper floors, but if its something I'll have to replace I'll need to do something about it.
whatcannotberepairedbymortalhands
     The moving crew agreed to uncover the furniture on the ground floor for an additional three hundred, so now I have an idea what the mansion looks like in its full glory, and I must say, its quite opulent. Hopefully tomorrow will also have some suprises in store. (Good ones of course.)

Monday, February 27, 2012

Testament

     'As to the inheritance of my eldest son, K[rest of name removed], I leave my entire estate, including the mansion, grounds, and all other surrounding properties covered by the deed; as well as all posessions housed within. I also leave to him this stipulation; to create a record of his first year as master of the estate, as was dictated to me by my father, as his father decreed, etc. By fufilling this condition, K[rest of name removed] will assume full ownership of the inheritance previously described.'
ithoughtitwasablessing

     In accordance with my late grandfather's wishes, I have created this blog to record the first year inside the house I have inherited from him. Updates will come weekly, unless something comes up that I really must share.

K.