Sunday, 18 September 2011

Late and Travel

I'm sorry this post comes so late, but I've been busy. Not that kind of busy that I was working all night and just didn't have time to get online busy, yet I applaud myself for actually getting off my butt to do this.

I took a trip to Holland. You heard me right. The land of Illegal drugs and Red Light Districts that would knock your socks off, but that's not what I went for. I arrived in front of the Cirque Du Soliel European Headquarters with little more than a backpack full of clothing, and a key that had been tucked into my father's diary. I had to confirm all that he said in the book, because I sure as hell wasn't going to just blindly believe something like that. It was certainly a hassle to try and get these guys to let me in. The old gym hadn't been used in years and there was some sort of shady reason that the Cirque people didn't want to tell me. Also the Russell family appeared not to exist, but there was a look on their faces as if they had seen a ghost while they looked at me.

It took about three days, but they finally let me take a look around. As I approached the old building, a feeling of apprehension clenched in my stomach. What if everything that my Father had written was true? What if all this stuff about Proxies and Slenderman was actually real? I couldn't think of that. I couldn't possible believe that any of this could possibly have roots in reality. I slotted the key in the old lock and turned, pushing open the door. The smell that came over me made me gag. It was like rotting flesh and unwashed blood that flew into my nostrils like a particularly annoying fly. There was the hum of insect life as I stepped in closing the door behind me and flicking on the lights in the dark room.

There it was, the sea of blood. Not cleaned in the years since my father had done it, and as I stepped in a puddle, I realized that the blood wasn't dry. My head was spinning. This wasn't possible. There was no way that the scene would stay so intact. The laughing came from high above. Insane. High Pitched. Like a child who was almost ready to cry their heart out, but was holding it all in. I couldn't take it.

I turned and ran.

And so here I am. Back home safe and sound, the key tucked far under my pillow along with that damn work of fiction. I refuse to believe what I saw. It's not real. It's not there. There is no such thing as Slenderman. There are no such things as proxies. This is all lies meant to scare me into running and hiding or fighting some figment of my imagination. I will not give in. I will not be scared of the bumps in the night, because they are nothing more than regular things in my normal life.

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