"Run fast for your mother; run fast for your father.
Run for your children, all your sisters and brothers.
Leave all your love and your longing behind.
You can't carry it with you if you want to survive."
~"Dog Days Are Over" by Florence + The Machine

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"M.
I don't know if you're still alive but..."

"This is definitely it. This is whats haunted me. I know it. This Slender Man. I need to find out what happened to me."

"It's nice to see someone helping these poor people out. You're advice is amazingly helpful, although I'm not to sure if my friend and I can run now."

"Sweden is not safe, I repeat Sweden is not safe."

"Um, hi, my name is cynthia. my friend rachel showed me your blog and i'm really scared right now and i don't know what to do."

"Hi...my name is Branwen. I was...wondering if somebody here could help me. I think...

I think me and my friends are in some deep shit."

"I tried leaving multiple times.
when i would stop to rest, i would wake up back in my room.
i don't know whats going on here.
i'm getting scared now, what can i do? i need to get away from him. i woke up with a gash on my arm this morning!"

"Hey M, I've got a question..."

"So I take it you're the big shot guy around here (heh)? You seem to have a large quantity of groupies, which speaks for itself.

Jesus, and all these kids asking for help- how the fuck do they not know yet? Get your shit and run. How difficult is that to understand people?"

"Hey there dude. I'm looking for someone to talk to, calm my nerves and all that jazz."

"This man, you've been talking about. I've seen Him before. I know who He is."

"Just dropping by to say I'm still fighting the fight. Stay safe, M."

"I doubt you're checking these anymore, but if you are, M, could you check my dream post and help me out with it?"

"M, my friend, who I'll call EyesWideOpen, he's going hunting for him tomorrow. He's taking a knife with an operator symbol on each side. He wants to find out if It can be harmed."

"M, my man how's it going."

"i have been following your blog since it began"

"M- You're a wealth of information."

"M...
Please don't be so hard on yourself, okay?"

"Hey, M. Just wondering how you could convince someone who thinks they're safe to run?"

"am running now, got a truck.
in ontario and i have no idea where to go. west, north, or east?
i really need advice, been on buildings and in my truck sometimes while sleeping.
is it alright for me to steal to survive?"

"M I want you to remember this quote

'Fairy Tales are more then real. not because they prove dragons exsist, but because they prove that dragons can be beaten'"

"M, your posts have been amazing, almost nothing has helped me more."

"M-no not really.dude,i'm worried.some bloggers have stopped posting:fizzbomb,zero & jeff,& nessa and she doesn't eveen remember us!"

"Hey, M, been lurking a while, and I'm just curious...have the rules "changed" at all?"

"Greetings, M. I stumbled upon your blog today (Random Google searches, indeed), and I must say I am intrigued."

"...holy shit, these posts are pretty brutal."

"M i hope your still there ."

"Is anybody still reading this? Something huge just happened in the NY/NJ area."

"M...? Are you alright?"

"M, where the fucking hell are you? Bad shit is about to happen, and youve dropped off the face of the planet.

Give us some vitals man!"

"M, man, if you're still with us let us know. You're a hero to a lot of us even the ones like me who aren't to far gone. Send it through the grapevine man let us know you aint empty yet."

"Hope you're still alive, M. We need more people like you. Frankly, I don't know what we'd do without you."

"What do we do if M is truly gone? If even M can fall before this, someone who's spent so much of his life running and teaching others how to survive through this madness.

What can we do?"

"M, are you still here? We really need to know if you're okay."

"M, I swear to god if you're out there, then please, let us know. We're all worried to death here, and hoping that you're alive."

"Goodbye, M... I never knew you. If you still live... just.. say somehing...."

"M... If you are out there... then you have to know... Hes in Europe... England to be exact. I'm glad I found your blog... I've considered running to London. Around here theres mostly trees and stonecircles... I used to run around those trees all the time and now they just hide a shadowy figur but I cant just leave. I dont have the money to leave! And I still have family. =/ M your blog helps curb my paranoia"

"So this is The Tutorial Black Leaf spoke of? I see, thank you for laying out the rules of survival while bring hunted by this, "Slender Man". I hope you're alright, and I do my best under what you've taught. Again, thank you."

"Amusing. This is supposed to be a place of planning and discussion, yet the plights of Little Prey and Prey the 2nd go without comment."

"Maybe if I threaten him with writing a slash-fic about him and Zeke, he'll come back on?"

"So M's been missing for a while, then? Well, unless I get confirmation that slim's got him, I'm going to assume it's because M's up to something important and just can't get back to us yet."

"Please... The Master... cherishes M far too much for this to be the end."

"M still lives, but is trapped and seeks the Light. If any who dwell in Chigago truly care, you must go find him. "

"M's been trapped in Chigaco? Where would we even begin looking?"

"M... I hope he's alright. I'm no where NEAR Chicago, or I might try looking on my time off... V.V"

"Whoa, I knew M was in Chicago, but I didn't think he was trapped... hopefully he gets out of there soon. It's not good to be trapped by shit like that during the winter; it's going to be a rough time ahead for him."

"M, if you're reading this, you had better fucking call me out on being wrong.

Please. I don't want to be right."

"i'm up in michigan, roughly 2 hours from chicago, give us a starting point, i'll spend a week or two down there to help out"

"don't trust Joseph he is a proxy."

"Thanks for keeping me informed with the rules and everything M."

"sorry Roy,
I think M can't post for now..."

"Hey, guys. How's it going? Still haven't found M? Damn it... Listen, someone else needs to get down to Chicago to search for him."

"I think is not a very good idea...
Besides, it had been too much time already...

Maybe we should try with someone else he used to know..."

"i'm all ears for the next plan. if i don't find him by tuesday i'm head home, i haven't ahd much luck
can anyone direct me directly to an image of M?"

"There are none. No one knows what he really looks like besides his hoodie."

"what's his hoodie?
it at least gives me something to go by. i'm leaving friday, i can't spend too much time in this city
if M's been taken
i'm afraid they're gonna come after me next"



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----Chapter One - Dog Days Are Over----
"Is it really worth it just running your whole life? To never be anything but scared?"





No hope . . .

'Is that the message being portrayed to us?

That no matter how long we run, how long we fight, we have no hope of survival? That no matter what we do, He'll get us all in the end?'

This is the thought that has been on everyone's mind since the Solstice. A new generation of cynical, tired out Runners have appeared, growing more and more dark heartened by the month. Where did they all go long? Was it their trust in the Core Theory? Was it their belief that this was all just a product of a story? That they were just fictional players with fictional powers? That they were invincible?

"- There has been a bizarre progression amongst the patients. They have developed the delusions of "powers", similar to a magicians or Greek hero's, allowing them to fight for or against the first delusion. Those suffering from this hallucination seem to be effected by others-- one man said he set a woman on fire, and she reacted as such, eventually falling to the floor and dying despite never having touched a flame. These hallucinations have a placebo effect on the patients-- they cannot distinguish reality from fiction, and die because of these convictions."

'We were fools'

Indeed, perhaps the one called Redlight should be thanked for ushering in this new generation of Runners. Runners who are smarter, faster, and more equipped. Perhaps his taunts made the Runner community better.

Perhaps...

But now, the new generation themselves are becoming the veterans, learning from the older generation's mistakes and taking upon themselves weapons of knowledge to combat the Tall One. And weapons of war. And the older generation is taking hostile notice.

But while the old and the new clash, an even newer generation of Runners will be born. A generation that will find themselves faced with a call for help.

Something big is going to happen. Runner against runner. Proxy against proxy. And the pieces of the game are all in His hands.

'It's not only a game of chess anymore', Thage thinks as she sits down with Raymond to have another one of their daily talks. She had been trying to teach him go for some time now, but she had been failing. Perhaps it was too much for him, his mind seemed to be on a lot of things. Recently discovering that your entire life was a lie, still recovering from your lover almost being taken by Him. 'Perhaps he's angry at me for suggesting lobotomy.' She watched Ray place down another black piece down to claim her white one. "That's against the rules, Ray" she informed him.

"What? What do you mean? You said I can claim your piece if I surround it."

"The ko rule prohibits you from repeating the same position."

"Bullcrap!" Thage raised her eyebrow in a questioning manner causing him to rethink his answer. "I mean, why the hell does this game have to be so complicated?"

"Did you read the rule book I gave you."

"Would you be mad if I said no?"

Thage frowned, "Maybe." Sighing, she began picking up the pieces.

"What? What are you doing?"

"This isn't working. We shall try again tomorrow."

"We only just begun!" They looked at each other in silence. It was as if the silence could make even Slender Man's ears bleed. Thage sighed again, her exhaling of breath shattering the silence into a thousand pieces. "The game hasn't just changed, it is in His favor. I shall regret this, but...we're going to need help."

"What about Ava? How she's going to react to this? You know she detests them now."

"Yes, we have already covered that. But she doesn't need to know about the meeting."

"So what? You mean you're actually considering inviting a bunch of strangers to your house? After the shit Eulogy gave you?"

"For the most part, yes. But only certain people will be invited."

Ray looked up at the stairs, with the knowledge that Ava was upstairs sleeping. She was so apathetic towards other Runners now. What would happen if she were to find out Thage's plan? Deep in his worries, he didn't notice Thage was still staring at him. Her too, he was worried about her too. Does she really feel this guilty about being inactive in the fight against Slender Man for so long. Or was it something else? "I'll be starting dinner soon. You should probably call Ava down." she told him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

...



Once again the tides are beginning to turn against the Runners. Once again a mass murder will occur. So many people are fated to die...

And you?

Will you, a mere pawn, deny your own fate?

Or will you accept his wonderful embrace?

Somewhere, on the Path of Black Leaves, something that does not belong in our world stirs, on the prowl for his next prey.

   You might be next.   

APRIL 2ND, 2011
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_________________

Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

{Rick Upbeat}

_NYC_Strange Days_

Night in the city that never sleeps, Rick parks his Elantra at a storage complex. He pauses for a moment to think, his hands still on the wheel. The contents of Claire's notebook were fresh in his mind, but all those symbols and codes remained the same. There was no immediately solution, no answer, only more frustration. " You should have made it easier." Rick commented with a gruff as he picked up the pile of notebooks from the passenger's side. Outside of the car, Rick locked his vehicle and made his way inside.

Inside the building that privately storage items, were red walls and doors, each with black roman numerals and his was number fifteen. Even on a small island, people still need space to hold their things, and with a little black mail and side favors, a place like this works perfectly as an office, Rick thought. He turned the crimson knob of door fifteen and stepped into what look like a furnished apartment, or a least a work area. Inside was a wooden desk and shrivel chair, a couple of laptops and towers, a hat and jacket rack, a work bench with scattered tools and strange mechanical gizmos on top, and a mini fridge.

" Be it ever so humble." Rick commented sarcastically as he stepped inside, closing the door. He set the pile of notebooks on his desk and proceed to hang his hat and jacket on the rack. Rick sat down beside the wooden desk and from its drawers, he pulled out books, and a tool kit. " One way or another, I'll least figure out something." He remarked as he got to work.

_________________
"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit

Dr. Anders emerged from the shower, rubbing his head with a towel. The room was quite a mess, but staying at a hotel had the advantage of not being obligated to clean after oneself. He tossed the towel onto the bed, and looked at his watch on the table. His flight back to Chicago would be due in a couple of hours, so had to get himself together, and head for JFK soon.

He took a piece of cheese from the plate and poured the rest of the wine into his glass while he got dressed. His briefcase lay open on the bed in front of him. It had everything he needed in it; files, reports, recordings. Wesley knew he was playing a very dangerous game, and there will be hell to pay if things go wrong, but he couldn’t pass out on that kind of oportinity. His ‘nemesis’ was careless and overconfident with that boy, and created quite an Achilles heel on himself. Dr. Anders was sure that the boy could destroy him, but he couldn’t use Bobby on his own, he will need some help with the case. And help he will find at Thage’s meeting without any doubt.

In a dingy apartment in Edmonton, Alberta, Devon was sitting in a recliner, reading a thick leather-bound book. He glanced at the clock on the table beside him, sighed, and closed the book. "Looks like Gareth's working late again." he mumbled to himself. This is a habit he had taken up when he was 17. It helped keep himself sane and enforced the illusion that he wasn't lonely. Even now, with Gareth living with him, Devon mumbled to himself constantly. Old habits die hard, apparently.

He got up from his chair and walked over to the computer, debating whether or not to play some Solitaire to ease his mind. He wiggled the mouse, waking the computer from its sleep. "Hm, guess I left my email ope-" He stopped, as he noticed that he had a new, non-spam, email. 'Subject: Meeting.' Devon glanced the message over and ran his hand through his hair. "Massachusetts...? For a meeting?" he sighed heavily and set his head on his desk. "I have been trying to convince Gareth to move out to where all the action is... But he's so comfortable here with his job that he doesn't want to leave. He's still not in the Runner mindset." He lifted his head and stared at the email. "I suppose I have been saving my checks from the library just for something like this, but... Ugh. Gareth will take some convincing. He's hardly even left Edmonton, let alone the country." He smacked his head on his desk. "Sometimes I wonder why I don't just do this alone." He sighed heavily. He knew he couldn't do that. Gareth was too far in already. He'd been seeing Him and his proxies ever since Devon told him about them. "Massachusetts, eh?"

He got up and looked around his apartment. "I guess I have been ignoring one of M's rules..." Devon walked over to his bed and fell onto it, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to sleep. "Always keep moving..."

_________________
Soulchild: u thnk evry thng stupid.
DaCrum: Warbear, why did you suddenly become pretty cool? Stop it.

{Chicago -- On the Hunt}
~Gordon~

He lifted his phone from his coat pocket, flipping it open and accessing the menu. He tilted his head as he entered his media storage, checking his images. Along with an enlarged image of that odd symbol he'd seen ever since his initial encounter, he had images of various people in the world that he felt he could still trust. But he wanted something that could help him out with his search. He hadn't been in Chicago long; He'd only dropped by for basic supplies, some basic social entertainment that he missed on the road, and an odd craving for some of those hotdogs he'd always heard Jill ranting about.

Aside from the 'dogs being just slightly better than average, everything had turned out well. Until he'd decided to check online for any public updates.

Gordon accessed his message folder, scanning his text drafts to re-read his saved message for himself.

"Look high. Find symbols. Find M." He softly muttered to himself as he read aloud.

He flipped the phone closed and quickly pocketed it, looking around. He'd been walking a while down the streets, not noticing exactly where he'd ended up. But he knew he hadn't walked but maybe a couple blocks. Still on the Mag Mile... Good place to start. Can't see anything too tall here, but some of the tallest buildings in town have restricted access... Plus, there are plenty of shops around. Gordon's bi-colored eyes glanced up as he passed a clothing store. If he was in a crunch and needed emergency tools, he'd want to stay near plenty of stores... It's one of the first places I'd pick to be hiding.

He walked for a few minutes more, watching the cars and crowds. Eventually he came to a spot near to some of the more historical sites in the Magnificent Mile. Of particular interest was a local hotel of some renown. Gordon looked up as he strolled near the street entrance, looking up the twenty-five floors to the edge of the roof. Of course, he doubted that they let anyone aside from employees get roof access. But then, he never had problems when it came to persuading others to help him investigate.

One of the advantages of any knowledgable cop.

Gordon strolled through the lobby of the Allerton Hotel, calmly walking up to the front desk, where a brunette clerk was chatting on the phone and arranging someone's stay. She quickly made the reservation and ended the call, offering up a cheerful smile to Gordon. "Greetings, sir. Welcome to the Allerton Hotel. How can I help you enjoy your time here?"

Gordon shifted on his heels a bit, his left hand tucked into a pocket of his long coat. He ignored her presence for a bit, giving the requisite glances about the room to take notice of anything important. He finally cleared his throat and turned back to the girl, who had begun to lose the cheer in her smile and was mildly stiff while watching the rough-looking stranger. "Sorry, um..." He squinted a second, looking to her nametag. When she noticed his gaze was slow to move and went slowly up her collar to her eyes, she began to look around. A slight flush came to her cheeks as she brought her hands together, trying to distract from the odd feeling. Though, she couldn't really understand who she intended to distract.

"Right, Rebecca. Well, I'm here to check out the roof." She blinked a few times as her mind was suddenly very intent upon his purpose. She gave him a questioning gaze. Before she could ask, he used his pocketed left hand to push his coat open and slightly forward. She instinctively looked down, noticing his holstered pistol and the brass shine of what she thought to be an officer's badge. She smiled softly after noticing the latter, since the former had nearly choked and kick started her heart all in one second.

"Yes, um..." She paused, nearly calling him an officer when she saw him press a finger to his lips. His eyes went aside a second. She turned her head, gazing over to a trio of men in black suits. She'd only seen them coming around recently. Rebecca nodded and smiled to Gordon.

"Just call me Gordon... Can't give too much away, right now..." He gave her a subtle smile and a curious glance that Rebecca couldn't help thinking looked a lot better for him than most of the creeps who tried flirting with her.

Rebecca stifled a slight giggle before coughing a bit. "Well, Gordon," she slowly looked up into his eyes, "I'll call ahead to let security know to give you access... And I hope your investigation goes well." She leaned forward a bit, her shoulders pushing her arms closer. The hint in her eyes and the way her arms pushed her bust together were enough to show Gordon that the game was playing out well. "Please, come back again soon, sir..." She took her original stance once more, lifting up her phone as she noticed the multiple red lights from waiting calls.

Gordon left without a word further. He took the elevator up, hoping the close space would be fine with three others riding in the lift with him. Upon arriving at the top floor, he noticed two uniformed guards were standing nearby, glancing to him right away. He gave the two a half-nod. Masculine enough and silent, a truly manly gesture. But quick enough not to warrant them the idea of chatting. He quickly walked up beside them, nodding his head aside. They took the hint, gesturing him to follow. Gordon couldn't help but smile a bit at the fact he had his own small, armed escort that was helping him get into an area he wasn't meant to be in.

Upon getting outside onto the roof, Gordon took out his cell and opened it back to the symbol he needed to be searching for. He looked around a second, suddenly realizing he needed some zoom to be searching this high up. There weren't any telescopes or those binoculars he thought looked like parking meters. Likely the hotel thought them too gaudy and tacky to have. Gordon turned to ask the two men something when he noticed one was wearing a pair of large, black binoculars right around his neck.

"Heh... Mind if I borrow those, pal?" He shifted his eyebrows in a mildly pleading manner, gesturing to the binoculars with his cellphone. the guard looked down before realizing he had them on. He gave a slight chuckle, lifting the cord from behind his head to hand it off to Gordon. "Thanks. I'll try to be quick." Gordon walked over toward the east side of the rooftop, lifting up the binoculars and scanning around. He stopped looking after several seconds before he looked back to the roof, forgetting that he hadn't checked for any symbols on the hotel yet.

_________________

Hannah Rosalind Granger – Wayland Campsite, England – Just another night

“CHRIS,” Hannah called loudly across the field, cupping her hands. “...CHRIS!”

The Scout leader was on the other side of the field from where Hannah stood, and seemed to be lazing on a deck chair in the evening air. Chris looked in his vocal Explorer scout’s direction, holding a hand to his ear as a gesture that he couldn’t hear her properly. Hannah groaned.

“Fucking pain in the arse...” she muttered under her breath, jogging over to her Scout leader. “Chris?” she called again once she was a couple of feet away from him.

“Oh Hannah,” he commented dryly, “Thank you for coming over...glad to see you’ve finished giving everyone a headache.”

“Chris...” she said again, folding her arms and ignoring the comment. “About tonight...What are we doing? Campfire or wide game or what?” The blonde haired youth glanced up at the darkening sky above their heads, already a navy blue and gradually getting darker. “We kind of need to know now, otherwise it’s going to be too late to do anything...unless...” She looked at Chris for a moment. “We’re not doing another night hike, are we? We already did a short five mile hike today, and then there was last night...”

The man shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “We’re playing a game tonight. I checked with the Wardens before I booked; they gave me permission as long as it was only for one night, and that we finished the game by midnight.” As he spoke the words, he could see Hannah mouthing the word ‘Yes!’ to herself silently. “BUT,” he continued, pointing at Hannah, “I still don’t want to hear too much noise from you lot, alright? Especially you...I know full well what you’re like, Miss Granger.”

Hannah gave her Scout Leader a look. “Me? Make too much fucking noise?” she pointed to herself with a grin. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Smiling a little in response, Chris got up and folded the deck chair away, starting to carry it over to the bunkhouse at the edge of the field. “Well since you’ve got such a loud mouth, you can do me a favour and call everyone together,” he told her, tossing her his whistle. “We’ll start the game in ten minutes...I’m just going to join Louisa inside and get everything ready.”

Hannah caught the whistle easily. “Okay, got it. Ten minutes.” She paused for a moment. “...Can you tell me what game it is?” she asked hopefully.

“You’ll have to wait and see, just like everybody else,” he smiled. “But it should be a good one, I can say that much.” The Scout leader then propped the folded deck chair, propping it up against the bunkhouse before walking out of sight, through the doorway of the small building.

“Fucking tease,” Hannah muttered, smiling. She started to walk back across the field, her hiking boots making a pleasant rustling noise against the grass with every foot fall. She made her way over to her tent, unzipping the door and climbing inside. She picked up the torch resting on top of her sleeping bag, checking to make sure the batteries were working before stuffing the torch into her navy combat trouser pocket. She also slipped on a waterproof jacket over her grey and black hoodie, since she didn’t trust the weather to stay dry.

“If it’s anything like the last time, it will start raining before we’re finished,” she commented to herself, stepping back outside the tent and zipping up the opening again. She surveyed the campsite: 6 sleeping tents, a storage tent, the dining tent and ‘kitchen’ with the metal stove outside it, still smoking from the remains of the fire lit underneath the grille, and then came things such as the washing line and camp dresser, constructed using long sturdy wooden staves and plenty of rope. She could also see the chopping area; piles of wood sorted into piles, two axes dug into a block of wood in the centre of the area and two hand saws propped up beside it, with the whole of that area taped off and marked out with wooden staves and string. Beyond that to her right, she could see the hut Chris had gone into, and on her left opposite that, the flag pole, the flag already of course had been taken down at the end of the day. Towards the opposite end of the field from her, she could see some of the Explorers playing football, with four cones marking out the goal posts. The rest of the scouts, Hannah guessed, must be out in the woods somewhere...the eighteen year old glanced over the lines of trees to her right, left, and then ahead of her, just beyond where the others were kicking the football around. Hannah sighed.

“Well, I better round everyone up like Chris said.” Hannah started to jog over towards the other side of the field.
“HEY! SCOUTS! PUT THE BALL AWAY, WE’RE PLAYING A WIDE GAME IN LESS THAN TEN MINUTES!” She shouted, cupping her hands. She then blew on the whistle twice, alerting any one inside the woods that their attention was needed. She could already spot a couple of scout members emerging from the trees, as she waited for them to gather. She then jogged again, heading across and down one of the small winding footpaths that lead into the trees. She slowed down a little as the path became more uneven, twigs snapping underneath her boots. It was getting quite dark now, particularly underneath the shade of the trees; but Hannah could see where she was going well enough. After a minute or so of walking, she stopped, holding her hands around her mouth again as she called again.

“SCOUTS! MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO THE CAMPSITE! WIDE GAME IN JUST OVER FIVE MINUTES!”

Hannah then resumed her walk, making her way deeper into the woods. She decided she’d walk the footpath down into the woods, round and back up, so that she would eventually come out along the other side of the campsite. The walk wouldn’t take her long; she knew this place like the back of her hand. The walk along the footpath would only take her five minutes at a brisk walk, giving her enough time to walk the distance and check to see if there were any scouts still left in the woods, before making her way back up to the field. As she walked, taking care not to lose her footing on the loose earth, rocks and twigs under her feet, she folded her arms against the chilly night air. It was quiet down here, away from the field. You could hear every movement; every snap of twig, every note of birdsong, even the gentle hush of the wind. There were many times when Hannah had sat down in these woods and just listened to the silence.
...But right now, she had a job to complete, so she continued onwards.

_________________

Hiryu: Doc's bag is a portal. She's actually from another dimension and when she jumped into it, she ended up at a desk with a browser open on this site. That's how she found it.
We have a Doctor Who thread now. Doctor Who threads are cool.

Gareth - Edmonton, Canada
~ Whoosh, bitches ~

Footsteps echoed through the alley as Gareth ran full speed. He slid around a corner onto the street, a large brown package in his hands. A quick shoulder-check later he slowed to a walk, breathing heavily. He glanced down at his watch, noting the time. "Goddamn. He freaking chased me for a full ten minutes..." He took a few deep breaths and looked up at the building he was standing in front of. He glanced down at the address and nodded as he entered through the revolving door.

Gareth left the building, a small stack of twenties in hand. He grinned a bit. Companies with 'secrets' paid pretty damn well for a delivery boy with the ability to keep a secret. He opened his wallet and dropped the money in, checking his phone as it vibrated. "A meeting? Well I do need to get out of the house more... Oh god... I'm talking to myself again..." He shook his head and tapped his chin thoughtfully. Devon probably hasn't eaten... I'll get Pizza. Mmmm... Pizza...

There was a loud bang as Gareth punted the door open. "Honey, I'm hoooome!" He closed the door behind him and walked to the kitchen, sliding two large pizza boxes onto the table. Gareth dropped his keys on the table by the couch and looked around. "Devon? Are you lazing about again?" He sighed "Oh, and I blame you for being chased by a goddamn guy in a mask again today. They're getting better too." He opened the box on the left, taking a large slice of 'meateor' pizza. "I got a strange e-mail today. Something about a meeting. It sounds interesting." He took a bite of the pizza, munching on it happily. He sat on a chair, leaning back and humming as he ate.

_________________
Fenix13: Remember this well Gareth: With great power... comes hot bitches.

Garethcool: I WILL BECOME YOUR MANSLAVE.
Sam4books: That's the plan ;D

Allerton Hotel, Chicago, Illinois
~Gordon~

If Gordon looked back eastward he would notice a parking facility that was around eleven stories high. At first glance it seemed like a pretty average facility that was used by monthly patients of the nearby hospital. But as one strolls around the top floor, the roof, one would notice a strange circular like marking spray painted on the lot nearest to the most southwestern entrance. It was rather large, and done completely in black. It looked as if somebody used more than three cans of paint to create such a spectacle. Although whoever did it was probably long gone by now. Perhaps at some local internet cafe, or coffee shop. Or some food market, busy stocking up. Who could tell? But on the roof on that entrance, was a blanket and small white markings that may or may not be the same as the circular symbol painted onto the lot. Although this was nearly invisible to the trained eye, even through binoculars. At most it would come up as a light speck in the midst of concrete. By the blanket was an assortment of items Gorgon wouldn't recognize unless he was closer. It was possible that they were only garbage, left behind by a soul who was on the run.

Wayland Campsite, England
~Hannah Rosalind Granger~

As Hannah continued walking she would notice something odd. For a split second, there was absolute silence. It was almost enough to deafen one's ears. But a fast as it came, it vanished, and in its wake a strong breeze shook the very foundations of the trees which stood up tall against the darkening skies. There was no other sound in the air but the wind. And somehow, the trees looked all the more sinister. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but one of them looked as if it had arms. The further she ventured, the more uneasy she would have felt. At least, until she neared the field. But even then she would have a terrible feeling looming over her.

_________________

Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

"We have now arrived at Gatwick International Airports. The time is now 10pm please remain seated while we move towards the gate." It was the exact same feminine voice that had chimed at the beginning that they were taking off and several more times through out the flight to announce a bunch of mostly irrelevant things (at least they seemed so to him). The announcement that he could finally used his phone was much appreciated.

Flicking across the touch screen several times he finally reached the settings panel of his phone and switched on the network and Wi-Fi search options. It took several moments before he finally found himself connected to a phone network. A giant blue O and two took up the spot where his sprint emblem normally resided, assuring him that he was no longer in the states.

Satisfied that he found himself finally connected to something he flipped the phone to its side and began rapidly touching the screen with his thumbs at speeds only surpassed by your typical teenage girl. As he began to text he wondered if texting applied to the international roaming fees, and how much they'd add to this month's bill. Just the though of the extra cash he'd have to shell out caused him a mini headache. It was times like these that he had wished he'd learn how to properly hack networks.

Finally finished he checked over the message to see if it was satisfactory.

'Hey. Finally made it in so you no longer have to worry. I still have another God damn flight to catch before I'm finally there and can make it to my hotel."

Satisfied with the messaged Karthik sent the message to the number saved under Lisa. Closing the phone he was glad at least that was taken care of. No more than a minute after he sent the message his phone vibrated and flashed brightly signifying that he had received a message of his own.

'Glad to see you made over there alright Kar. Sucks that you still got a while more to go especially considering how much you hate flying, but be glad that you can at least go to England. I seriously envy you for that. Anyway try to enjoy yourself. I know its going to be hard without me there taking care of you and all. Lol. '

It really amazed him at the speed she could type on her phone. He was the mute one and she for what ever reason was much faster than he ever could be. What was even more amazing was the fact that she even though she was joking she was right. He desperately needed her in his everyday life. In England where he had no one how could he do anything?

"Um. Sir we've arrived, all the other passengers have already left." The soft voice of one of stewardess snapped him out of his wanderings. Nodding to her, he grabbed his bag and left the aircraft. He couldn't believe he had just let his mind wonder like that completely unaware of his environment, chee he really had to pay more attention.

The Customs and immigrations had been a debacle in itself. Not that he had expected any different. The custom officer had thought him as being a cheeky little bastard when he hadn't verbally responded to his question and instead let his phone do the talking for him. Lucky it had been resolved quickly as pulled out his medical note explaining the situation.

Still as he sat on one of the many benches that had been scattered through the airport, he realized he had another three hours before his flight He didn't particularly feel like playing a game or anything. It was then that he remembered that he recently become a part of that mythos site. Hoping he to find something interesting to past the time he began reading through several of the articles.

_________________
The Dinobots can combine! What they combine to is death!

http://tfwiki.net/w2/images2/d/d2/The_B ... 2_full.jpg

Devon awoke with a start. "Wh-... Dude, I just fell asleep. You know how rare that is for me." Devon sighed and walked over to the table. "You better have gotten Hawaiian." Devon opened the box on the right, grinned, and grabbed a piece. "So, hey. I got an interesting email earlier." He walked over to the recliner he was sitting in earlier and sat down. "Apparently there's a Runner's meeting in... like... Massachusetts." Devon took a bite of the pizza. "I know we've talked about leaving Edmonton for a while, but we really should go. It seems important."

_________________
Soulchild: u thnk evry thng stupid.
DaCrum: Warbear, why did you suddenly become pretty cool? Stop it.

- Mellissa Marmillot: Patati Patata Friterie De Luxe, Montreal, Canada -

Among the Fallen was sitting down to a trio of juicy burgers. Mellissa had two glasses at her elbow, one empty save for driead foam, the other half full of beer. She was halfway through her burger already, Gabe and Travis had barely eaten a quarter of their burgers. Part of the reason for that was the time spent gaping at Mellissa, she ate fast and without pretences of ladyness. They had a gig in an hour and had just finished their soundcheck and decided to pop out for dinner. Mellissa was wearing one of her tight, white tank tops, thin enough for the black bra underneath to be visible. She shifted in her chair and the rings on her belt made swishing sounds as they moved across the plastic of the chair. Reaching out Mellissa grabbed her half full glass and drained it. She looked around, making eyecontact with the slim blonde waitress who immediately made her way over.
"Hey, Blondie. Could I have another one of these, pretty please?" she asked lifting her glass and giving the girl a wink, eyes de-clothing her. The girl blushed and mumbled an affirmative, flustered.

"Geez, maybe you should give it a rest. We gotta play in an hour." Travis said warily, eyeing the two already empty pints. Gabe had his spiky blond head buried in his plate.

"Ah lighten up, Trav! I'll be fine. Hell, I'll be better than fine. I'm more spontaneous this way!" she replied, grinning and waving away the warning

_________________

-Salem Suburb, Shadwell’s House: “Reporting In”-

It was a mild spring day in a quaint suburb outside of Salem Massachusetts. A black 67 Chevy cruised along the narrow streets at a snail’s pace. The man inside was taking in the scenery as he drove along taking in the scenery, noting all the things that had changed in town. Not much had. The car meandered along for a while before making a turn onto a dead end street. About half way down the car came to a stop, parking in front of a small beat up old house. The blue siding had faded so much that you nearly couldn’t tell what color it was anymore, the blinds had grown a dingy yellow, the few concrete steps leading up to the door were cracked and falling apart, and the lawn was a mess of weeds and crabgrass. This little decaying outpost if humanity was what passed for the headquarters of the Witchfinder Army, inside lived its highest ranking member, Captain Harold Shadwell.

The man outside exited his car and hurriedly lit a cigarette. He lingered a minute before approaching the door. Already he could feel several pairs of eyes on him as he did. Some young kids down the street were staring at him in awe as he did. Apparently this house was no mans land for the young’uns. He knocked on the door precisely three times, and was rewarded with the sound of a plethora of locks being removed from the outer door. The door opened to reveal an older looking gentleman. He had thin wispy white hair, almost bald in places, thick round frame glasses and an ear to ear grin. “Sergeant Frederick Marshal reporting in sir.” The man said rather unenthusiastically as he saluted. Shadwell stuck his head out the door and looked around to see if anyone might have been watching. He flashed the kids that same disgustingly big smile he greeted Marshal with. They scattered instantly.

Shadwell turned his gaze back to Marshal, “Frederick my boy! It’s so good to see you.” Then embraced the man in a bear hug. Marshal stood, stunned. The cigarette fell from his mouth. With surprising force, Marshal was whisked into the house. All the locks clicked back into place behind them. The living room behind the door could only be described as if an East Meets West exploded inside of a museum only to have an old man move in on top of it all. The wood panel walls were completely covered. The Army charter was hung on the wall along side a portrait of the first General, surreal drawings and sketches of monsters and people and events, occult symbols, newspaper clippings, several maps, old letters, knick knacks, and a damned moose head. Marshal could only make heads or tails of half of it. Some of those sketches could have been some sort of fucking porn for all he knew. “Please sit, make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us something to drink. Then you can tell me all about your adventures of late.”

“Shit.” Marshal snorted. “It’s not as if I haven’t sent you monthly reports for the past two and a half years Shadwell.” There was no response as the old Captain disappeared behind a string bead curtain into the curtain into the kitchen. Getting comfortable wasn’t an easy proposition. The only comfortable seat was the, ‘Captain’s Chair,’ a brown reclining armchair. Marshal dare not take it. The other seat was a small yellowish brown couch encased in thick plastic save for a massive hole in one of the cushions and a very loud quilt covered in dizzying patterns draped across its back. “So much for that possession proof covering.” Marshal thought dropping like a rock upon it and putting a foot up on the end table in the center of the room. It was covered with all sorts of crap but Marshal didn’t give a damn. He shifted around a bit on the plastic wrap couch a bit trying to get comfortable. It didn’t work. Marshal forced down the nostalgia of being back at Shadwell’s. He had studied here, and trained in the art of witch finding. It was here with a crazy old man Marshal had found his calling. He clenched a fist. All the old memories made him want to smash something. Marshal preferred living in the present. There was no point in dwelling in the past. A minute later Shadwell returned from the kitchen carrying a bottle whiskey and a pair of glasses. “There we go.” Marshal cracked a smile. “That almost makes up for that stunt you pulled outside.”

Shadwell took a seat in the Captain’s Chair and filled the glasses. “What? Can’t an old man be happy to see a dear friend after so long? We’re both brothers in the Army. We share a bond of faith and brotherhood and faith. We hold the line against the darkness. There is no shame in a little camaraderie.”

“No, no you can’t. Stuff it with that to. I’ve heard that damn line a million times from you already.” Marshal took his glass and downed the alcohol.

“And you’ll hear it a million times over before I’m through with you my boy.” As the pair talked through their almost ritual like greeting. The smile never left Shadwell’s face. Once again all of Marshal’s best efforts had been for naught. “So tell me a story Frederick.” Shadwell took a sip from his glass. “What have you been up to since Tarrytown.”

Marshal grimaced. When Shadwell wanted a ‘story’ he really meant report. Marshal thought so anyway. “Ain’t much you don’t already know from my last report.” He shrugged. One look at the Captain though said he wasn’t going to buy it. “Fine.” He huffed. “I spent some time in the hospital. Getting shot will do that to you.” He refilled his glass. “Damn bastards. Can you believe it? One side drank human blood and the other worshiped the moon. I don’t know how much closer to occult blasphemy you can get without actually doing it. Fuck. Any closer and I’d of put them all down.” Marshal Grunted. “Place has been a war zone after Hinman and I left and the police moved in. It’ll sort it self out I figure.”

“Of course I believe it. You aren’t the only member in this glorious Army of ours Frederick. I get all sorts of letter with blasphemous goings on from all over; hauntings, possessions, satanic cults. You know the sort of thing. We’re still looking for that bat boy. It’s getting so hard after the Weekly World News went under. I do miss that publication. I must say though, impressive work. It does the world good to bring such hellish practices out of the dark and into the cleansing light.

Marshal groaned. He could never convince the man that the Weekly World News was total bullshit. “I wish I knew that sort of thing. Send some of that shit my way will ya. I ain’t seen nothing. Ever.”

“I could, but what would I gain by that? You have your own battles to fight my boy. God guides us on our own paths. Yours is laid out before you. I must say though, impressive work.”

Marshal didn’t comment. That wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Anyway, I made a lot of money on that job. Dedicating my self to our work for as long as the money holds out. Exorcized the shit out of a bunch of supposedly haunted places. Some at request, others not. Hell if I know if it did anything though.”

“Surely you must be up to something more than just that.”

Marshal looked down for a moment and downed another shot of whiskey. “You’re right, I am. I’m trying to track down something called the Slender Man.”

Shadwell’s impossible grin grew even larger. “Do tell.”

“If thing is more than an internet legend its bad. Real demonic shit here. I’m talking nightmares, stalking, possession, kidnapped children. Thing has anyone who’s seen him scared for their friggin lives. Runners they call themselves. That’s what they do even. They run. Talked to a guy once but he couldn’t even give a description before he ran off in terror.”

Shadwell chuckled. “You never really were very subtle with people.” He stood up for a moment and walked over to the wall and ripped down a few sketches that had been tacked there. He handed them to Marshal before sitting back down and reclining in his armchair.

Marshal immediately recognized the sketches rough though they were. “You knew?”

“Of course I know. You have to give me some credit.” He chuckled again.

“You know this won’t actually help in finding the creature.” Shadwell simply smiled. He knew that too. “You’re an ass, you know that.”

“I just want you to take heart that your mission is a righteous one. You’re onto something.”

“Don’t you think I know that by now?”

“Sometimes I’m not so sure.” Shadwell said coyly before a yawn.

Marshal glared at the Captain but it made little impression. He didn’t like having his commitment to the mission questioned. Most other people would have given up long ago. “Anyway, I’ve got a meeting with some college kid the day after tomorrow. Kid thinks he wants to be a paranormal investigator. I’ll see if I can’t put the fear of god in him for ya.”

“That’s nice.”

“Hopefully he’ll be…” Marshal was cut off by the sound of snoring. Shadwell had dozed off. “more help than you.” He finished quietly. Marshal stood up and stretched, then shoved the sketches and the bottle of whiskey into his coat. Shadwell wouldn’t miss it. Afterwards he took out an envelope containing his latest report and left it in the old man’s lab before turning to leave. “Till by the grace of God we meet again.” He muttered to the door.

“Till by the grace of God we meet again.” Shadwell’s tired voice echoed in response.

Marshal spun around only to see the Captain still sitting there smiling gently, looking as asleep as he could be. Was he really asleep or just messing with him? Marshal had never been able to tell. Without another word Marshal blew the air out his nose and left in a huff. “Shit.” He muttered to himself as he lit another cigarette and took a long drag. A few minutes later Marshal got back in his car, revved the engine and drove off. There was work to be done.

{Hector}

_Salem_ This too shall pass

A black motorcycle with crimson words "The Beast" on the side, engine roared down the quaint suburb shaking windows as it sped past. Its model was strange, right out of a science fiction novel and its driver, a 6 foot and 11 inch giant of a man. He looked like a mechanic with his dark grey jumpsuit with a helmet and goggles and a flame bandanna covering his mouth . Stitched on the right breast of the jumpsuit was a name tag with the words Hector on it, the only name he goes by.

Hector rode that motorcycle as if he had rode it forever. It was natural and deep down, he wondered if he was some sort of motorcyclist before his accident. His thoughts were the only company on his long county road trip. Through, those diners sure helped with their endless coffee, greasy burgers, and friendly service. Also the occasional distraction that took him to rather strange places. However, finally his task of tracking down his old pal will come to an end. Hector revved the beast and leaned into his ride as he sped up.

Coming up ahead was a black 67 Chevy, the kind of vehicle Marshall last drove from his times at Redstone. The moment the two vehicles past one another, Hector made a quick glance at the driver of the car. " Marshall." Hector uttered as he spun around making a loud screech and leaving tracks. Hector leaned into his motorcycle as much as he could to gain speed to catch up.

_________________
"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit

Gareth - Edmonton, Canada
~ Uh... yes? ~

Gareth hesitated a moment, shewing slowly. "I got that message too. I was thinking about it, but what's your plan? Are we gonna be driving? Or are we taking a plane?" He took another bite of pizza, chewing slowly still. He stopped, smiling. "Goddamn do I ever love pizza." He took another bite, finishing off the piece. "I'll give you this much. You organize everything, send me whatever you send to the guy as a BCC and I'll go with you. If you take charge and set this up, my savings will take care of our expenses on this 'vacation'." Another break for a bite separated the sentences. "But no strippers. Seriously. That can wait for a stop by Vegas on the way home." Gareth grinned and held out his hand for a fist-bump.

_________________
Fenix13: Remember this well Gareth: With great power... comes hot bitches.

Garethcool: I WILL BECOME YOUR MANSLAVE.
Sam4books: That's the plan ;D

Devon grinned and returned the fist bump. "I was thinking that we'll take a plane. It takes less time, so we won't have as much of a risk of running into a bunch of Proxies." He stopped for a moment. 'Though, a Proxy on a plane would be pretty bad...' Devon thought to himself. He took another bite of his pizza and opened the book he had been reading earlier. "How about this? We'll leave on the fifth. I'll buy the tickets, you pay for the hotel. We'll split for food. Once the seventh comes along, we'll head over to this Thage character's house and attend this 'oh so important' meeting." Devon stuffed the rest of pizza in his mouth. "Then we'll go to Vegas and see some strippers on the way home."

_________________
Soulchild: u thnk evry thng stupid.
DaCrum: Warbear, why did you suddenly become pretty cool? Stop it.

Hannah Rosalind Granger – Wayland Campsite, England – Something’s not right...

At the sudden change in the environment, Hannah paused for a moment, frowning at the sudden silence, and then at the wind. The strong breeze caused her hair to dance in front of her face, and she waved it away impatiently.

“Strange...” she murmured, glancing around her. She carried on walking, but she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she was now getting. Hannah found herself peering at the trees more closely...for some reason, they seemed more ominous now than they had before. Hannah had gotten paranoid by trees in the dark before, but...really? She stared for a moment at a tree that she swore for a second she could see arms coming from, before shaking her head and moving on.

“Now I’m just seeing things,” she muttered to herself, and then, a bit louder, “They’re just fucking trees. In a wood. In the dark. That’s all.” As the foot path stopped sloping downwards, she put on a bit of speed, walking a tad faster and running a hand through her turbulent blonde hair. The bad feeling wasn’t going away...in fact, the further on into the woods she walked, it seemed to be getting worse. She couldn’t help but peer at every tree, as if they were going to suddenly lunge out at attack her, or something.

“For fuck sake, there’s nothing there,” she told herself, like the very idea was ridiculous. She shook her head again at how silly she was being, trying to dismiss it. But still, she walked noticeably quicker through the woods, as if she couldn’t wait to get out in the open again. As she walked out into the open expanse of the campsite, she felt a bit better. But the eighteen year old still felt strangely troubled. Something was very wrong, but she couldn’t place what it was.


She was still frowning with concern when Rachel walked up to her along the field. “Are you alright Hannah?” she asked.

Hannah snapped out of it. “What? Oh...yeah, yeah I fine,” she replied dismissively, absently rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m just feeling a bit...” she hesitated, not really wanting to say ‘paranoid’, “...tired...that’s all.”

Rachel smiled at her friend. “Guess you’ll be wanting an early night then. If you want, once the game’s over you can just go and sleep, I’ll try not to disturb you. I doubt anyone will really care if you skip the hot drink afterwards, if you’re that tired.”

Hannah shrugged, smiling faintly. “Yeah, maybe I should do that, I guess. Thanks Rach.”

“No problem.” The straight-haired brunette put a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “You’re still playing though, right?”

Hannah laughed. “I think if I didn’t, Chris would never let it go. Especially after I just pestered him about it.” She rolled her eyes. “Only a leader like him would consider it his duty to poke fun at his Scout troop...”

Rachel grinned with her. “Yeah, speaking of which...” she nodded as Chris walked out onto the field, a woman with her dark red hair drawn back in a ponytail, now accompanying him. They seemed to be carrying three buckets, a big sheet of white card and a pile of coloured card; presumably for whatever game the Explorer units would be playing together. Rachel nudged Hannah, “...Looks like the game’s about to start. Come on.”

As they walked over to the centre of the field where Chris was now calling everyone’s attention, Hannah couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder, looking again at the line of trees encompassing the field. She shook her head again, trying to ignore the awful feeling she was still getting, as she listened to Chris explaining the game to them all.

_________________

Hiryu: Doc's bag is a portal. She's actually from another dimension and when she jumped into it, she ended up at a desk with a browser open on this site. That's how she found it.
We have a Doctor Who thread now. Doctor Who threads are cool.

New York City, New York
~Echo and Stormy~

"No" repeated Stormy, sounding serious this time. There was no way she was going to just let Echo go and save some guy she knows nothing about, and there was no way she was heading over there either. What if this guy was a Proxy, and was just leading them all into a trap? No! She wasn't having it! It was bad enough everywhere they went, there was a Proxy waiting around the corner. They couldn't keep living like this.

"Oh, come on Stormy! What if this guy starts becoming Hallowed, and we're not there to save him? You always told me that we should help out those who have been infected."

Stormy sighed, "Yes but not like this." She wouldn't deny that small spot of compassion deep within her heart, that she felt some sort of sympathy for this person who was about to be caught up in something he couldn't escape. But at the same time, she knew that if they went, they would only be making it worse. Maybe she was a coward, a whiner, and completely useless, but could she truly be useful through pulling a poor soul in deep with heroics. No matter how much Stormy tried to coax her into believing it was okay. That nothing could possibly go wrong. You know the strange thing about that?

Something always goes wrong.

Even so, Echo went ahead to search for Slendy's newest Victim anyways, regardless of the possible consequences. Stormy wished her luck, she knew she was going to need it. Her friend was always so optimistic, she didn't even understand her sometimes. Echo, of course, thought nothing of Stormy's refusal to go along with the rescue mission. 'She's just going through a rough time' she convinced herself, especially after the recent Proxy attacks. Poor girl, life never seemed to give her a break. Well, she was with her, and if anyone ever thought of hurting her friend they'd have to face her wrath.

'That's right' she thought, now standing in front of a small Pizzeria with a confident grin on her face. 'Nobody stands in Echo's way.' However that feeling of nervousness seemed to be trying to catch up to her, even as she entered the double doorway, and walked to the front desk gazing at the workers clad in green aprons and red caps. Weird color combination, one would think it was Christmas still! But Echo decided not to comment on it. It would only serve to draw attention to herself. All she was her for was the Victim. As promised to Stormy, once she found him, she was to come back home, or at least when got some leads on him. Smiling at the attendant/cashier, she asked, "Excuse me miss, do you, by any chance, know if a Bobby Peterson works here?"

Wayland Campsite, England
~Hannah Rosalind Granger~

Perhaps Hannah wouldn't have noticed it. But standing at the edge of the wood, a good distance away from the group gathered at the center of the small field, was a rather tall creature, not much different from a tree. Its limbs, which were as black as the night's sky, resembled a leafless tree, with not even buds sprouting from the ends of his long, sharp fingers. Indeed, with it's garment, there are those who may mistake this deadly child of the fear of humanity, this demonic offspring of the great tree Yggdrasil itself. A thing so tall, you would not be able to mistaken it for anything else. Silently, the Tall One watched the small prey play, for that is what they were to it. Even with the completely absent of a face it watched, not moving it's pale head, or anything for that matter. He needn't do anything else. But he wasn't there before, was he? Not even when she last looked over her shoulder, and if she looked again, she wouldn't have seen him then either. All she would have seen was emptiness. Nothing but pure emptiness.

_________________

Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

Gareth - Edmonton, Canada
~ Saweet. ~

Gareth nodded "Sounds like a plan. Just hoping this isn't some kind of trap." He stretched, cracking his knuckles. "Devon... I'm tired of these motherfucking proxies on this motherfucking plane." He grabbed another piece of pizza and saluted Devon. "I'm gonna play games until I pass out. Gotta keep my computer screen tan competing with my farmers tan." He took a bite of the pizza and retreated to the livingroom and turned on the TV. He flipped through discs, looking at each one carefully. It was always hard to choose what he was in the mood for. He eventually decided on Little Big Planet and popped the disc in.

After a while he came across a map that interested him. The name was 'HE SEES' and it was from a user somewhere in the US. He already felt slightly unwell about the map, but curiosity got the better of him. He opened the map and shivered at the sight. It was obviously using the 'horror' texture pack, as everything was dead trees. Nothing else was visible past the dead trees. The sackboy started with the 'scared' face. Gareth breathed slowly, cracking his knuckles again and starting the level. After about a minute in the trees, something in the background moved. He grinned, trekking on. After a while he saw another sackboy. After a quick check of the player list he took a deep breath. He was still the only player. He looked at the sackboy, tightening his grip on the controller. It had a mask on. He sighed and left the game, making sure to 'favourite' it so he could look at it again later. He leaned back and yawned. It was going to be a long night.

_________________
Fenix13: Remember this well Gareth: With great power... comes hot bitches.

Garethcool: I WILL BECOME YOUR MANSLAVE.
Sam4books: That's the plan ;D

{Allerton Hotel, Chicago}

Gordon lowered the binoculars with a slight grin, lightly nodding to himself. He'd barely noticed anything from this far, even with the adjustable zoom. But he'd seen enough to warrant some investigation. He turned to the guards and smiled, handing back the binoculars. "Thanks, boys. Already got what I needed..." He quickly moved past them, not bothering to wait in case they wanted to ask questions and get curious.

Gordon quickly left the hotel and made his way east as best he could while staying to the streets. They liked turning the wrong ways and lead him around the parking structure a few times before he got close. But considering the shortest way had been going through a park, with numerous trees, he thought it best to be on the side of caution. Though, once he started walking his way up the structure, he started getting a bit of regret for making himself walk for so long. But he did manage to give himself a slight break as he took his time to check around for oddities on each floor, just in case there were any traps for some...more human interlopers.

Upon reaching the rooftop, Gordon carefully made his way toward the camping gear. He came to a stop when he was a few feet away, arching an eyebrow and tilting his head. He knew a guy like M wouldn't have lasted as long as he had without being even a little paranoid. So, he easily suspected booby traps were likely set under or around the gear.

_________________

-Salem Suburb, County Road: “Interception”-

After leaving Shadwell’s place Marshal didn’t get far before coming across a motorcycle along a local county road. It was out of the way and there were sparse few places to stop along the way aside from a greasy spoon and a lonely little local bar, but that suited him just fine. He just wanted to sit back and enjoy a nice long drive. The motor cycle seemed oddly familiar, with the words “The Beast” emblazoned across the side in brilliant crimson. The two drivers exchanged a furtive glance as they passed. As soon as they did though, the motorcycle came to a screeching halt before spinning around in the middle of the road and come roaring in his direction. “What the shit!? What’s this guy’s deal?” Marshal worked over the angles for a moment, before pulling off the road and getting out. He didn’t look happy. “Hey asshole. You got some problem with me.” He shouted.

- Michael Quinn - I'm on a boat.

Gragh. The surroundings around him blurred as another violent lurch rocked him to the side. fackin ship shucking crup. he muttered quietly as he pushed himself back up and leaned against the wall. The cold, wet, dirty wall. The floor wasn't much better. Actually, it was worse, what with the rat faeces, they were cocky little buggers too, he's had to kill eleven of them already and place them around himself as a warning. He only really needed four, but they kept rolling away. He sighed as he began to turn on the gas stove again, but what with the continuous moving of the boat and the twitching hands, it really wasn't easy. Damnit. Once the fire came on, he reached out for the climbing axe, had some more trouble seizing and handling it too and then brought it down on one of the rats eating it's dead comrade. Fifth time, vicious creatures. He shook the thing off the axe, flicked the blood off and put it back down beside him.

He shuffled a little and pulled the stove closer to himself. He was holding his sleeping bag inbetween his legs and chest, his arms wrapping tightly around himself so he could warm his hands near the fire. At his right side he had "The dream merchant" lay closed, it's old red cover with little plastic rubies capturing some of the light, he'd had to stop reading after the pills else he knew he'd have thrown up and things were unhygienic enough down there. His bag was on his left, the zip opening revealing it's odd contents. A medium sized bottle of white tablets with tiny letters on them lay with it's lid half-stuck on. Michael blinked a few times and tried to get the sleep out of eyes, wincing as his shuddering hands poked a bit too far and then reached down to pick out another tablet. He swore as a short spasm sent it flicking away. Damn, damn, damn, damn. He tried again and managed to get it to his mouth, swallowing it down roughly. He didn't want to go through the trouble of getting some of his water.

He blinked a few times again, already feeling the tiredness slip away as the dextroamphetamine took effect, it would be another half-hour before the shakes reached their next apex from it, it would be worse this time, again. Tears formed in his eyes as he hugged himself tighter, sobs racked through his body as he cried into the bag, the muffled crys echoing around the dark stockroom. A seventeen year old boy in a dirty suit had stowed away on a carrier ship, hid in the deepest area he could find and had no idea why he couldn't stop crying. The weeping carried on for over an hour, through another violent lurch of the boat which tipped over the stove and plunged him into darkness, through the scurrying and squeaking noises of the swarm of vermin around him and through the loathsome thought and feeling fighting inside him. The ship jerked again, tipping him right over, displacing his thoughts again. Damn. he said quietly as he righted himself and reached for the stove. As the light came on, he brought the axe down on another rat. Fifth time, vicious creatues. He fumbled for another tablet and swallowed it. The fatigue flowing away from his as he flicked the sleep out. Huh...sleep must be hurting my eyes. he said quietly as he felt the wetness on his face. Didn't even notice it. He held himself quietly, staring blankly at the red container in front of him for a few minutes before beginning to cry into his bag again.

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“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.”

Devon - Edmonton, Canada
~ The mellow side of the action ~

Devon closed his eyes and sighed. 'I should probably send Thage an email saying that we're going to show up.' he thought to himself. He closed his book again, got up, and sat down in his computer chair. He cracked his knuckles and began typing. Once he was done, he got up, put on his jacket, and headed to the door. "Hey Gareth," He shouted, "I'm gonna head to the library and do some research. I'll probably be there pretty late, so make sure you lock up when you go to bed."

Devon walked down the street, breathing in the cool night air. 'As long as I don't end up running into any Proxies, this should be a productive night.' He grinned to himself, thinking about all the quiet reading he would get to do. This was his favourite use of his time at night. The library would be closed, but since he's worked there for a few years and had proven himself reliable, he got a key, so he could get in whenever he needed to. He admitted to himself that this might be an abuse of this privilege, but he'd do whatever he could do to further his knowledge of what was going on.

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Soulchild: u thnk evry thng stupid.
DaCrum: Warbear, why did you suddenly become pretty cool? Stop it.

New York City, New York
~Echo in the Pizzeria ~
“Welcome to Famiglia, the place of the original New York pizza…” the clerk started his mantra, when Echo asked him about Bobby. Thrown off-track by the strange question, the young man blinked a few times, and then turned towards a door leading into the back. “Hey Sue, is Bobby still here? Someone is looking for him.” He yelled out to someone.
“No, he just left a few minutes ago.” A female reply came. “I’m sorry, you just missed him. But maybe you can catch him at the store across the street; he always goes there to pick up groceries after work.” He told Echo with a wide, friendly smile. “You will spot him easily, I’m sure.”

~Across the street ~

Bobby was standing in front of the counter, with his purchase neatly placed in front of him; two can’s of tomato soup, two cups of fast-Chinese-noodles, to can’s of cat-food, and two apples. The young man was wearing a grey sweatshirt, tucked into his pants, and the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The pair of dark-grey-former-black jeans were fastened with a wide belt, and pulled all the way up almost to his chest, showing off his ankles clad in miss-matched black-red socks. On his feet he was wearing a pair of dusty, faded originally blue sneakers. The laces were almost grown together, they were probably tied once quite some time ago, and shoes just slipped on and slipped off afterwards. Over the belt-buckle Bobby wore an overstuffed fanny-pack.
Bobby was facing a very hard decision. Today was his candy day, when he was buying his sweets for the week. In one hand he held an empty red bag, last week’s remains. He studied it for a while, and then turned to the rack again. There were all the different flavors; orange, cherry, lemon, strawberry. Something was not right. Bobby carefully matched the bag with the rack, and he managed to identify cherry, so this week should be… lemon. But the rack where the lemon should been, was empty. The boy kept looking confused between the empty bag and the empty rack. Sometimes he reached out slowly, but stopped at half way, and pulled his hand back.
“Bobby sweetie, we are out of lemon. There wasn’t coming any this month. Why don’t you pick something else?” The owner of the small shop, a middle aged woman, said to Bobby in a gentle tone, and looked worried at the queue forming. It was one of those little shops, where the clerk knows the costumers, and displays patience and understanding for all of their strange knickknacks.
“Move it retard! Just take the damn candy and get the f@ck out of here!” A young black man, who stood two places behind Bobby, shouted at him having lost the little of his patience.
“How can you be so rude to the poor boy? Can’t you see that he is ‘special’?” An elderly lady, who stood between the two of them, lectured the upset costumer.
“Then why the hell is he shopping, when he clearly can’t do it? They should have their special shop, if they are sooo ‘special’.”
“This is not the right attitude young man. This is a free country, and nobody should be treated otherwise, just because he is different. You especially should understand that, just a few decades ago…” Another man, who was at the end of the line, took Bobby’s side.
“What do you mean by that mister? Just because I’m black? Why don’t you call me a nig…”
In the meantime Bobby took no notice about the argument flaring up behind him, and finally reached out for a bag of strawberry flavored candy. He took it off the rack, but then again he changed his mind, and put it back again.
“OH, FOR F@CK’S SAKE!” A desperate yell came from behind.
Bobby slowly turned to the clerk, and gave her his usual sleepy smile. “That’ll be all… no candy this week.” He said slowly.

Hannah Rosalind Granger – Wayland Campsite, England – The Game (Yes, you just lost it)



“Right,” Chris said, raising his voice so that everyone could hear him, “Now that I’ve got all of your attention, I’ll explain how this is all going to work. In a moment you’re all going to draw a piece of paper out of the bucket Louisa is holding.”

At this point, the dark red haired woman smiled. She held up the bucket she was carrying, shaking it so that the folded paper inside could be heard rattling about.

Chris continued, “This paper will tell you what team you’re going to be on, so that there are no arguments. It’s all completely random, so you won’t get to choose who is on your team and who you’re competing against. If all goes well and we have time at the end, we’ll play the game again with the teams switched over, so everyone gets a go. We do have to finish this game by midnight, so it’s really a question of how long this first round will take. If all goes well, we’ll should be able to fit another round of this in. If not, that’s just tough luck, but we’ll see how it goes.”

“Come over to me and take one piece of paper each,” Louisa said, after her brother had finished. There was the chatter of voices as the teens stepped forward, not even bothering to form a line as they crowded in to get to the bucket.


Hannah decided to wait rather than push in. Normally she would have, but she was somehow feeling...unenthusiastic about this game. Although perhaps unenthusiastic was the wrong word to use. If she had thought about it, the feeling she was actually getting, was unease. Which really made no sense to her; what was there for her to worry about? The girl glanced around again at the trees, frowning...but there was nothing there.

Hannah then felt someone poke her in the sides as they passed by her, almost making her jump. Hannah glared as she caught the grinning face that had done it. It was Matt Blake; the guy that had been on her team for the night hike last night. Hannah breathed out a sigh of annoyance (and, privately, of relief).
“Fucking...” she muttered, not even finishing her cursing as she went to join the now dwindling clump of scouts around Louisa. The eighteen year old picked up one of the last pieces of paper in the bucket, taking it away and unfolding it.


HAZEL


it simply read in black marker pen.


“Everyone should now have a piece of paper, with either the words ‘Black’ or ‘Hazel’ written on them,” Chris continued to explain. “I’ll explain the significance of these words in a moment, but these are referring to the teams you are on; there’s the Black team, and there’s the Hazel team.”

“Now,” the scout leader continued, smiling slightly. “Has anyone here heard of ‘Watership Down’?” There was a small gabble of voices as the explorers reacted to this, some calls of ‘YES!’, as well as a couple of ‘no’s, one or two groans, and some who were just discussing it amongst themselves.

Chris waited for the discussion to die down before continuing, walking around the group.

“You lot,” he announced, gesturing around at the Scouts, “are now all rabbits. And this,” he moved his arms, gesturing around at the field, “Is now a Warren, where many other rabbits live. Those of you with the word ‘Hazel’ written on your paper, you are now Hazel’s rabbits. This field is now your warren; your home base. Here on the field, your ‘Warren’, you are safe.” Chris looked to them all. “However, your warren is now under threat from humans. Hazel’s rabbits must now journey into the woods,” at this point Chris indicated the trees surrounding the field, “in order to find a new home. It’s said that Lord Frith, the rabbit god, will meet you inside the woods and guide any rabbits to a new burrow, and a new home.”

At this point Chris looked over to Louisa, who waved. “Louisa here is going to be playing the part of Lord Frith, and in a moment is going to go and hide somewhere in the woods. Hazel rabbits must journey into the woods to find her, but first, you will each pick up a token, like this one.” The Explorer Scout leader held up a square of red coloured card. “Pretend that this card now represents another rabbit from this warren. Yes, I’m well aware it doesn’t look like a rabbit, but...just use your imagination, ok, it’s a rabbit, deal with it.”
Hannah found herself smirking at this, and shook her head slightly. Scouts always did have to get imaginative with these games, although even the thought of imagining a small piece of red card was a rabbit was somewhat laughable.

“Now, each member of the Hazel team will take one of these ‘rabbits’ with them, and take them to Lord Frith, so that he can guide them to their new home.” Chris continued, holding up the red piece of card for everyone to see. It may have been night, but since everyone there was already adjusted to the low light levels, everyone could still make out what it was, even in the dark. “Once you’ve escorted one ‘rabbit’ or ‘token’, and have given it to Lord Frith, you will come back to the warren and take another, and begin the process again. Your objective is to get all the rabbits from this warren, safely to Lord Frith. Everyone with me so far?” Chris looked around at his scouts, the majority of which made some kind of positive response. Louisa meanwhile, was spreading out a big white sheet of paper on the centre of the field, marking it out with the cones that had been previously used as goal posts. Chris passed her the stack of red cards, and she began to place them on the make-shift mat.

“However,” Chris continued to address the group, as Louisa continued to set the game up, “The woods are a dangerous place for rabbits to be. Hazel rabbits are going to have to be quick and clever if they want to survive. This is where the ‘Black’ team comes in. Those of you with the word ‘Black’ written on your paper, you are now ‘the Black Rabbits of Death’. The Black Rabbits will be hiding in the woods, and will try to catch the Hazel rabbits before they can find Lord Frith. Should a Black rabbit successfully tag one of the Hazel rabbits, the Hazel rabbit in question must hand over any rabbit tokens they are carrying to the Black rabbit that caught them. That token is now lost to the Black team, and the Hazel rabbit must return to base for another token. Black rabbits; your task is simply to catch the Hazel rabbits and steal their tokens. Try to collect as many rabbit tokens off the Hazel team as possible. The game will end once all the rabbit tokens have been removed from the warren. At the end of the game, we’ll gather everyone back together and count the tokens; the team with the most tokens at the end of the game wins. Are we all clear?”

“YES” Everyone responded....apart from a few people who thought it would be amusing to reply with ‘no’, just for a laugh.



“Now there are a few rules before we get started,” Louisa continued on from her brother, rejoining the group and speaking out, her voice warm and clear. “Hazel rabbits can take more than one rabbit token into the woods at any given time; just remember that if you get caught by a Black rabbit before you reach me, you will lose all of the tokens you are currently carrying, no exceptions. So it’s up to you to take a gamble with how many tokens you carry. Once you leave base, Hazel rabbits may not exchange tokens with the other members of your team. You must carry the tokens in your possession to me, by yourself; passing a token to another team member as a way of not getting caught with it is cheating, so please keep your tokens to yourself, Hazel team. Black rabbits can tag Hazel rabbits in any way they like, but try not to play too rough. A simple tap or grabbing of the arm or shoulder will do.”

“Also,” Chris said, taking from where Louisa left off, “to make this fairer, Black rabbits can only tag a Hazel rabbit if they are in the woods; any tags made while a player is outside the woods don’t count. Also, to stop Black rabbits from lurking right on the edge of the woods and not giving the other players a chance, I am going to remain at the Warren, and I will have a torch, like this.” He waved his own torch in the air. “I shall be Chief rabbit, and should my torch find any Black rabbits catching a Hazel rabbit, the Black rabbit in question must allow the other player to get past with their tokens. However, that is only if you get caught by me. If the Chief rabbit is focused on another area of the field and does not shine their torch on you in time, the tag is acceptable.”

“Similarly,” Louisa stated, “as Lord Frith, I will also have a torch.” So saying she demonstrated, switching her torch on and holding it up in the air. “I will be located somewhere in the woods, and if my torch falls on a Black rabbit while they’re in the act of catching another player, that Black rabbit will have to let them go, and no tokens will be taken from them.” Louisa grinned. “So don’t think you can be smart by waiting right in front of me to grab the other team, because it won’t count. To make it harder for the Hazel rabbits, I won’t be staying in one place, either; I’m going to be moving about, so you’re going to have to search the woods for me. Don’t think you can tell your other team mates where I am, because I might have already moved by the time they’ve reached it.”

“Right,” Chris clapped his hands together, “That should be enough of a challenge for you all, so I’ll just give Louisa a minute to get herself hidden inside the woods.”

Nodding to her sibling, the young assistant Scout leader picked up one of the buckets (presumably ready to collect any cards the scouts gave her in the woods), and set off down one of the footpaths, disappearing amongst the trees.



Chris then made a movement with his arms, “I’d like all the Hazel rabbits on this side of me, please, and all the Black rabbits on the other side of me. There will be an odd number of you, seeing as there are fifteen of you divided between two teams, but don’t worry too much about it, it should be fine.”

Hannah made her way to the Hazel rabbit side, passing Matt on her way.
“Hey,” Matt tapped the blonde on the shoulder, “guess what?” He showed her his piece of paper.


BLACK


“Looks like we’ll be playing against each tonight, instead of working together,” Matt smiled. “I hope you’re a good runner. Although, judging by last night, you’ve got quite a little pair of legs on you.”

Hannah pulled a face. “Just don’t start trying to scare the crap out of me again, alright?”

Matt looked at her with mock innocence. “What do you take me for? You haven’t still got a grudge on me after that Slender man story, have you?” he teased.

“No,” she replied defensively, as though the idea was ridiculous.

The other explorer scout grinned. “You so do. I can tell. Don’t worry though, I’ll stop teasing.” Then he leaned in and said quietly, in a mockingly dark tone, “But you know, if you do happen to see a tall, dark, shadowy figure with no face—”

Hannah walloped him. “Oh, fuck off Matt,” she told him. “I mean it, if you start those horror stories again, I will get you back for it.”

Matt grinned again. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Hannah Granger and Matt Blake,” spoke up the dry voice of Chris, “Once you’ve quite finished flirting with each other, can you get into your teams, please?”

There was a small amount of snickering as the two explorer scouts ended their conversation abruptly, Hannah throwing a peeved look in both Chris and Matt’s direction, before making her way over to the Hazel side. She noticed Rachel was also on the Hazel team, and made her way over to her.



“Black rabbits, you may now start to make your way into the woods and get into position. At the sound of the whistle, I’ll send the Hazel rabbits in and the game will begin. When you hear the whistle blow twice, that means the game is over, and I want everyone back at the field. Understood?” The scout leader then waved at the Black team, sending them off. There was the sound of woops and laughter as the collection of scouts ran, scattering into the undergrowth.

Chris then beckoned to Hannah. “My whistle, if you don’t mind please,” he requested. Hannah at this point, realised she still had her scout leader’s whistle, and taking it off, tossed it to him. Chris caught it easily with one hand. “Hazel rabbits, you may take up your first set of tokens.” He clicked his torch on, shining it on the white paper where the collection of red card was. “Remember, choose wisely how much you’re willing to gamble.”

Rachel exchanged glances with Hannah, before picking up one card.
“Yeah, one card to start off with to be safe, right?” Hannah agreed, picking up one card from the paper. She stood up and looked around at the somehow menacing trees, rubbing the red card absent-mindedly between her palms. The unease was still there...even though she tried to ignore it.

“Ready?” Chris blew on his whistle. Hannah’s team began to run towards the trees, soon swallowed up in the woods murky depths. After barely a few seconds there was shouting and rustling noises as the first Hazel rabbits were caught.

“Congratulations to those of you stupid enough to enter the woods before I got into position,” Chris remarked sarcastically, walking over to the edge of the field and beginning to shine his torch across the entrance to the footpaths. “If you were caught, go get another token, go on.”

Rachel nudged Hannah. “Aren’t you glad we didn’t do that?” she laughed.

“Yeah,” she replied, trying to laugh with her friend. “Guess we better make a move, then?”

“Yeah.” Rachel started jogging towards the footpath Chris was currently nearest. “Good luck!”

“Good luck!” Hannah shouted back. Glancing around her, she decided not to let herself hesitate, picking a path at random and running straight down it. After a bit she slowed down, carefully looking out for any movement from the Black rabbit team, as she made her way deeper into the woods. She could already hear the distant shouts and screams as more of her team members were caught.

So I need to find Louisa before any of Matt’s team catch me, the explorer scout thought to herself, While I’m fucking paranoid, too. This should be great fun...

_________________

Hiryu: Doc's bag is a portal. She's actually from another dimension and when she jumped into it, she ended up at a desk with a browser open on this site. That's how she found it.
We have a Doctor Who thread now. Doctor Who threads are cool.

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The curtains were drawn over the window but the persistent wind kept blowing it up and only made him open them again out of annoyance. The man looked at his watch as he walked away from the window, carefully avoiding the pieces of shattered glass on littered on the bedroom carpet. "Six thirty...," he said the words slowly. He stood there for a while, staring at one of the hands as it ticked the seconds away on his silver watch. He looked up and then at his door, there was a sound echoing from the opposite side of his loft apartment. The shower.

The man rubbed his forehead with his hand and gave a deep exhale of air. The shower. He quickly made his way across the room, not caring as the glass cracked underneath his pair of dark blue slippers. The door opened suddenly without a sound and he made his way out as silently as he could. Noticing that the living room was still empty and that the water was still running, he made his way to his destination. The kitchen was cold and the counters were even colder, perhaps it had been the April weather or the morning rain. The man sighed and shook his head to forget about the recent climate as he looked around for what he needed. Eventually he had found what he was looking near the bottom of the gap between the fridge and a tall closet used for keeping canned food and other things. He reached in with one arm and managed to take it out, it was a dustpan and a duster attached together. The man was relieved that he had found the cleaning utensil and before he left for his room, flicked on the electric kettle on his way out of the kitchen.

The door closed with a small click and he was glad to be back in his room. He looked at his watch again, it was now close to a quarter before seven. He separated the duster and dustpan from each other, and got to work immediately. In just a matter of minutes, the room was clean again and the fragments of glass clattered and clinked as he shook the dustpan in his hand. He made his way to the window and tossed it out, hearing a series of noises as he put the dustpan on next to his computer. That was when he heard it, the shower had stopped. His panic only lasted a second before he grabbed his towel and rushed into the connected bathroom. He would have to make it quick so that his plan would work.

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Around seven in the morning, Nicholas Trevors walked out of his bedroom barefoot towards the kitchen. Unlike his neighbor, the lawyer preferred the idea of enjoying a cold floor in his loft apartment. As he adjusted the tie around his neck, he was unsurprised to see the man already sipping a cup of hot coffee at the counter. "Good morning, you're up early," he said as he finished with his tie, put the briefcase that was under his arm next to the couch in the living room laid his black jacket on its seat. The other drank a long sip of coffee before replying, "Yeah, good morning." Nicholas nodded and went into the kitchen, taking an already made and wrapped sandwich out of the food closet and a cup of already made coffee on the counter nearby. He drank his coffee quickly in gulps and felt satisfied as the warmth spread through his body. "I'll be going now," he put the sandwich into his briefcase and wore his jacket quickly, not liking the idea of being late for work. The man at the counter simply gave a brief "Mm hmm" to confirm what he had heard. A moment before he walked out of the door, he waved a goodbye to his neighbor with the friendly smile he always had on.

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He exhaled loudly out of relief and groaned. He had been lucky this time, he guessed. The five minutes in the shower -- or maybe it was his neighbor's habit of spending fifty in his room every morning -- had gave him a good start for his plan and his habit of arranging his work clothing into one specific drawer -- or maybe it was his neighbor's of never arranging his -- had helped. He laid down his head and stretched his hands on the cold surface of the counter. Another sigh, he thought he had been lucky that the water had come to boil at the perfect temperature the minute he walked in and the coffee had just enough time to mix perfectly before Nicholas had come out from his room. Another sigh and a sip of coffee, he stood up from his stool and walked to his room with the coffee still in his hands.

The computer screen came back to life with a simple press of a button. The light flickered for a while from green to nothing and then back to green. The man sipped his coffee with ease and was unsurprised to find that almost half of what he had been typing before his encounter with His minion, had transformed into a jumbled mess of random fonts, static, blurred letters and even more static. He took a black diskette out of a drawer and inserted it into the computer. The file was copied into the floppy disk, it would be useful for research later and the original was deleted from his computer. The diskette was pulled out and hidden along with the hammer to somewhere no one would ever find it. The man sipped his coffee again as he looked at the blank document on his computer. Another sip and then, a series of keys being typed on were heard.


My name is William Trevors.
I am a runner.
And this is my story.


A few more clicks were heard, the computer was soon turned off and Will made his preparations. As he closed the door of his apartment behind him, a feeling of nausea and sickness suddenly hit him. Will rushed for the window at the end of the hallway and proceeded to spill his breakfast coffee to anyone unlucky enough to be below. He groaned and retched until there was nothing left. The fear from before had finally caught up to him.

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William Trevors
||[ Lower Manhattan, New York City ]||

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah, yeah ~

"Gah, mercy," William said as he walked out of his apartment building. The sickening taste of expelled coffee was still fresh in his mouth and he tried to spit it out as he reached into his pocket for his keys. The rain had been falling lightly up til now but Hudson Street was already as wet and as cold as it could ever get in April. People were already out, some with umbrellas and some simply clinging to their jackets or bags as they walked quickly for the nearest bus stop. Will paused for a moment, had he just seen a blue raincoat among those pedestrians. He shook his thoughts away before the fear came back, with a shudder and hummed a song in his head for comfort.

I love you,
But i gotta stay true,
My morals got me on my knees,
I'm begging please stop playing games ~

Will rubbed his gloved hands together for warmth as he got on his black Vespa GTS 300. He put on his helmet which matched the color of his dark zipped-up jacket, the black backpack that hung on his shoulders and his scooter. The symbol of a white circle with a cross running through the middle was stenciled in the back, for reasons only known to those who did. A kick on the pedal and the Vespa came to life, speeding away into the streets. When the sickening feeling of fear started to come to mind again, he forced it away and increased his speed to distract himself.

I don't know what you do,
But you do it well,
I’m under your spell ~

A number of streets passed by him quickly, almost in a blur and he would make the occasional stop at a red light. Redlight, the name came into mind and Will felt the slight traces of anger whenever he stopped his scooter. An obstacle, that's what a red light was. A sign that read Canal St. made him do a turn to the left and go into Canal Street, where the people were equally busy but there were more cars there compared to the Hudson. The Vespa sped on, making water fly as it made another turn to the right in front of the Juan Pablo Duarte Square before going into Varick Street.

You got me begging you for mercy,
Why wont you release me,
You got me begging you for mercy,
Why wont you release me,
I said release me ~

After only a few minutes, he made another turn and reached his destination. Will slowed down his Vespa and parked it in front of the 1st Precint, next to a street lamp. The detective got off his scooter and took off his helmet. He rubbed his gloves again for warmth and walked over to the stairs. He exhaled deeply to relax himself and opened the double doors of wood to another day of work.

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_________________

Captain of Innuendo Strike Forces & Founder of Innuendo Striking Technique