On with the Timeline

Excellent, now I can get back on track.

I found the Doctor outside of the post office in Iowa. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't mail out that "escaped patient" document. Not like he'll need that, anyways. I used the classic 2x4 to knock him out by the backdoor and drag him into an old Cadillac I stole. Placed him right in a little chair for three hours. He was pretty pissed, seeing as how the syringes he had on him were thrown all over the place.

Score one for me. Turns out the experimental fluids in the syringes act as a sort of sedative. Almost like tranquilizers, however, he remained completely awake. So, I figured I'd have some fun. Skinned the bastard from the waist down. The only downside is the fact that once it wears off, the influenced subject has complete motor skills again.

So every half hour or so, I'd have to give him another shot. Most of the syringes had been dumped into a moldy corner, but who actually gives a damn about that, right? He died after the tenth syringe, though... That was pretty unfortunate for me.

But the gears are turning again. He is awake, and I have no idea what interest he has in those kids. He can't influence anything unless something followed him over... BUT LET'S NOT WORRY ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW.

I am on my way across the country. So I'll see you lucky bastards later! Oh, and if I run into any more assholes who have a camera in my face, I swear, I will tear their hands off...

Repetition

It's always the same damn pleading cry from them all...

"Please don't kill me, I don't want to die"

Morons, I don't think you realize what I had to go through for 17 years. Or... not what I, myself, experienced. But nonetheless... being locked up in that damned facility. Do you know what they even did?

"Please, I did nothing wrong, let me go"

Oh, but that's the point. You did nothing wrong. But I'm about to do a lot of wrong... Oh, and for the record, you can think of this as a live journal.

Currently, the subject is squirming and crying, but I have the leather straps fastened nicely. I've just administered some experimental fluids I picked up off of some dead guy down the hallway. I might've spit on the needle, but I don't care.

"What is this? Why are you doing this?"

Yeah, yeah. Second experimental shot has been administered. I dunno where it came from, but oh well. I didn't bother to sterilize the damn thing. Like it matters.

Okay, the subject is screaming now. That's interesting. Some red in the eyes, foaming at the mouth, basic bullshit. Muttering and screeching nonsense.

15 minutes now. Still doing the same thing. This little bitch is gonna give me a migraine.

25 minutes now. Uh, they stopped moving. Stopped responding. I need to find some more test fluids, be right back.

Ah, this is a nice shade of teal. I wonder what it does. Administering 15mg of the shit. It was in some rat's cages, now THAT is sad. You'd think they would have this place sanitary. Not that I care... seriously, does it look like I care?

OH HOLY SHIT okay, they started to scream again. That caught me off guard.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand just like that, they're gone. That was fun, I guess. Oh well.

Absence

That was a long run. I ain't done yet, though.
Oh my children, we have only begun.

I'm sorry about that long little absence of mine. I've been all over the place, had to leave for a bit. But because you all seem to be so ignorant as to what is really going on here, how about I give you a little lesson?

What you currently exist on is the Gameboard. Some of you thrive on your own sections of the Gameboard, I am currently on a very old section. Many of the pieces have died and withered away, some with their purposes crushed before they even had a chance to do what they were meant to. Shame.

You could think of it like a game of chess. The only difference is that the board is bigger and more incomprehensible than you could imagine, and there are multiple games going on at once. That "Fall Black Star" thing is the part of the board that I'm on right now. If you're reading this, then you are very likely on that part of the board, as well.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut, enough of that shit. I'm making my way around in good time, and I think I should cut off right now. I'll try my best to make some updates more frequently about what's going on with my progress.

Have fun children!

Finders Keepers

Found them. Both of them, I believe.

I'd forgotten how fast he was, and after those dumbass kids ran into the bathroom and got out of my way, I had to chase him down the street a few blocks, into the forest. Ultimately got him cornered in an old barn of some sorts. But right after I caught him, he vanished. I think he jumped out of a window or something.

The other one was there, too, I could feel him just lingering. Never got a glimpse, but I know he was there. The old man said he'd take care of him, but I don't think I'll allow that to happen. Once I can get 561 back on my side, we can both take care of him. Whether he's a threat or not. We'll find out.

And if he is a threat... he won't be for long. Because once the pieces come together, there won't be anything to worry about. In fact, there won't be anything at all. Because, after all, I am only a dying man.

Eenie Meenie Miny Mo

Sorry about that long delay.  I found 561.

And I found the other... thing...

Oh my god, they were both patients. I know 561 noticed me last night, but he didn't do anything. He SAW ME, but he did NOTHING.

The other one hasn't noticed me, yet. This may be a bad move, but I've got to find some way to get him to notice me. Crack the dormancy.

And I think I know just the thing...

Stay tuned!

Oops...

I guess cops don't like it when you knock them out for a few minutes.
And I don't think they like it when you kill them. Although, I'm not sure...

Anyways, I'm in Pennsylvania. So close to 561... and I can feel something else... almost as strong as him, but... I haven't a clue as to what it could be. It's giving me a headache.

Gonna hit a motel for the night. You know what they say; The body in which you inhabit does not move as quickly as you.

Well, they probably don't say that to YOU. But it sure applies to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be sleeping and whatnot. Nobody try to sneak up on me unless you want the bed-post through your throat. Thank you.C:

The Road paved with Sins

What do you call a skeleton who won't get up in the morning?
Dead.

Anyways, I just got through Illinois. Needless to say I was TOTALLY WELCOMED THERE. Ah well, doesn't matter. What's theirs is theirs. I'm close to Pennsylvania. So damned close...

In fact, I can kinda feel 561 right now. The doc wasn't lying when he said I should be able to catch up to him easier.

Alright, gotta run. The checkpoint's right up ahead. I wish there was more I could add, but there isn't. Not yet.

The Doctor III

I beat the answers out of the old doctor. It didn't take much more than near-death trauma to convince him to tell me where he is. I guess it brought back memories of our escape. How he lost 3/4 of his patient wards. What a shame.

One more punch and he'd have been concussed. Thankfully, that tall, slender brute showed up to tell me show's over. I'd had my answers, and I wanted to slam his head into the desk once more, but I don't care. I can always do that another day. With the way I smacked him around, he must've aged a few months.

With the knowledge of where 561 is now, it shouldn't take me more than a few weeks to catch up to him, and I'm coming up on Illinois now. If anyone has any additions as to 561's whereabouts, feel free to let me know. If you try to lead me on a wild-goose chase... let's just say the results of that will be more than catastrophic...

And I'll know if you're lying.

With that, I will leave you for a short while. If anything note-worthy were to happen, I will update. Stay tuned, look both ways before crossing the street, and try not to get into any trouble at school.

The Doctor II

I gave the old doctor a ring last night. For your enjoyment, I got a little transcript, because... it's not much of an update if this is all I told you... D for Doctor, T for Thorn.

                                                                                                                          

-two rings-
D: Doctor Raz--
T: It's MEEEEEEEEeeeeeee.
D: I recognize that voice from somewhere...
T: Awwwh, you don't recognize the voice of your number one patient, Dr. R?
D: You...? Where have you been--
T: I'm sure you've heard about those anonymous murders on the news.
D: Lord, no... don't tell me...
T: I suggest you start talking. Where is he?
D: I don't know what you're talking about.
T: Sure you do. Patient #561?
D: How did you--
T: Long complicated process. You know, one of those murders was your assistant nurse.
D: How could you--
T: How could I? Well, let me explain... according to your documents, that is, Doctor. And according to these... I have schizophrenia, manic depression, extreme malice towards--
D: MY documents!?
T: -- other cell mates and patients, minor paranoia, and obvious discomfort with one's self.
D: How did you get my documents?
T: Your moronic assistant had them in his blood-soaked hands. Now... where is he?
D: Patient 561 is in...
T: Yes...? Go on.
D: If you want to know where he is, then you'll have to pry the answer from my cold body.
T: Don't think I won't, buddy. I'm not playing games, anymore.
D: It doesn't matter, you don't know where I am.
T: Your little friends, Mickey D and Nurse brokeneck told me everything I need.
D: No...
T: YES...
D: What are you...?
T: A dying man.







So, off to the Doc's residence we go! Uh... I'll actually be heading off to his place in a minute. I'd like to not waste time, so once I've finished with him, I'll be back to answer all of your questions! I should only take ten minutes to finish.

Now, really... don't be afraid to ask me questions. I'm a pretty interactive guy. I suppose... unless you're an idiot, then the only interaction we'll have is my knife in your chest. But really, go on and ask me anything you'd like. I get bored easily...



And everything's ready. I'll be back in a bit, kids! Behave yourselves.

The Doctor I

Oh.

That's not something I was expecting to hear. Turns out the guys Micky led us to know my host's old doctor. Both of em do, according to what the Old Man told me. Hell, the guy I tracked was actually one of the nurse practitioners that came in to see me every once in a while.

                                                                                                                   

I watched from about 50 yards away as the bastard cleaned up a Starbuck's. He really, really degraded... jobs-worth, that is. From working as a high-ranking nurse practitioner in a well known mental health facility to being the janitor of a coffee franchise. Pretty pathetic.

And you'd think as a janitor, he'd have at least locked the doors to prevent robbery or something. But no. The doors opened nice and wide for me. He looked up from cleaning the tables only to find my hand wrapping around his throat. I tossed him over the side of the counter, hopped over, and dragged him to the very back of the shop.

He kept trying to tell me where the money was, all for the sake of his puny life. Now, realize it is very EASY to ignore things like this. Threats to call the police, barters... all the sorts.

Slamming his head into a table a few times didn't seem to knock him out, so I decided to get the info now. Didn't take much convincing for him to tell me where the old Doctor was hiding out. Really, really sad, in my opinion. Mickey was much more reluctant and strong. It took dismemberment and prying him of several senses before he could even remotely tell me where these two little shits were. It only took a table to get the nurse to talk.

But, there was quite a bit of events that I was unaware of. Pissed me off enough to wipe the smile off of my face and bring the dagger onto his throat with a quick twist.

I noticed some papers sticking out of his jacket. Ironically, they were papers on ME. Pretty funny.

Needless to say he didn't recognize me. No fun. No games. Looks like I have to be a serious Thorn for the time being. So, once I got the good ol' doc's phone number and residence.

My good, slender friend (and don't act like you don't know who I'm talking about) let me know he was using the doctor in the Game. We made a little agreement. I get whatever near-death torment I want, but my tall, faceless friend can still use him for whatever purpose.

I think I'll be giving my old doctor a nice call soon...

Metropolis

That was an interesting little conversation we had.

Basically, the Old Man and I need to split up. Mickey D gave us two leads, and judging from how these two act, it'll be much easier to interrogate them individually. One of em's already heard of me, from the sound of things, so I think I'll take him. Striking fear further into his pathetic mind. I'm sure that'll give me answers.

I still don't understand why he doesn't put that book he always has to some ACTUAL USE... >.>

Oh well, I still get to have my fun. In fact, I'm really excited!

I can't wait I can't wait I can't wait! I guess I should go, don't want to be late; I have a very, very important date...

Stay safe, do your homework, and be in bed by 9, kids!

They scream, and they cry... much like you're doing now.

Hello, hello! Your faithful teacher has returned. Did anyone else enjoy that storm we had last night? I sure did. You know, thunder and heavy rain can mask footsteps pretty well, especially if you're wearing boots. Oh, and not to mention the screams. You can probably hear maybe a soft "mmmmm" sound from about... let's say forty yards away?

Yeah, sounds about right.

So anyways, a guy named Michael Darrel, or something of that sorts... Me and that asshat holding the BIG BOOK OF SECRETS AND TRUTH have been after him for a while. I wouldn't necessarily say it was a cooperative endeavor, not in the least. Maybe it was a competition to see who could get him to squeal the loudest before he gave us some answers. Maybe...

... Not giving out any motives or anything. That totally wasn't the plan, nope. Not at all, no way, uh-uh.

Let me just say, I absolutely despise that book-toting fossil of an entity. Don't get me wrong, his motives are decent, his tactics are nearly flawless and crushing. But my GOD, his attitude towards things. Dude can't have a bit of fun, not once in his existence. He's SO SERIOUS about EVERYTHING. "We need to do this quickly," "Hurry up, I'd rather not let them find us," "I thought I heard them, hurry up!"

Maaaaaaaaaan, take a pill and relax. Or maybe even join in the fun. BUT NO, he has to constantly be on my ass about Archy and the Dog. If they would have happened to turn their ugly faces(s) around the corner, we could have easily gotten out of there. With or without a dead body on our hands.





If you ever need a wingman, don't pick the guy who's always holding the big book you can't read. Because, he'll always be a killjoy. I didn't even expect him to ask for my help, especially against Archy.

Well, then again, they are a pretty nasty match when they're against each other. Even so, why pick me? There are plenty of me out there. Ah well, I guess I was the closest. No matter. I had my fun. So, story time.




                                                                                                                            



I take my knife and plunge it right down onto Mickey D's knee. There's a soft spot there, pretty nice for knifeplay. (Are you taking notes? Good. This is useless information if you ever come in contact with me). The whole time I'm wiggling my knife around in his leg, he's screaming. Bloody murder, mates. All the way.

The Old Man's just standing there, on the other side of him, tapping his foot, shaking his head, fixing his bowtie, glancing in his book...

So I say, "Come on, old man, have some fun with him! You can't let me have all the fun, you know."
"You should be gracious I've let you toy with him this long." his response is pretty dull and lame, just like him.
"And sometimes, you get bored with your toys."

He just shakes his head once more, turns around to face the door. I pull the knife right out of his knee and put it to his eye. He knew what I wanted, even without my asking. AND YET HE REFUSES. He refuses to tell me.

And it only hit me now, the Old Man could've just pulled the info out of his little book. But I guess he wanted ME to get it. Unfortunately, I'm not queasy. And he's stubborn. Bad choice of terms when I've got a knife to his EYE.

So what do I do? Eyelids; gone. I sorta missed, so he could blink a quarter of the way. It looked really weird, if I had a picture, I'm sure you freaks would love it. Anyways, I'm getting tired of this story-telling, and I'm running a bit late for my little meet-up with the Old Man in the Metropolis. So, I'll cut this short.

Eyelids mutilated. Wanna tell me my information? "NO."
Eyes gone. Still got the same answer? "NO."
Teeth busted out. Same answer? "NO."
One arm gone. Same answer? "GAAAAAAAAAH."
Other arm gone. Sorry, what was that? "NO."
Both legs gone. Noooooooow?

That did the trick. Unfortunately, the Old Man bailed out on me before I snapped his legs, so he missed out on the intel on-- well... that'd spoil the surprise. I guess that's why he called me into the Metropolis.



I've got a VERY important date with destiny... haha, get it? Because the Old Man can...? Ah, whatever. Anywaaaaaaaaaays... I do really have to go, so I'll catch you suckers around.

And remember, kids... when Thorns asks you a question, he expects an immediate answer. Later!

Ladies and Gentlemen...

One and All,

Welcome to the Carnival of Freaks! Or, as we more commonly call it, existence. Life.

My name is Thorn. No, that isn't my real name. No, I won't tell you my real name. You need not know anything about me. Now, this statement may lead you to ask the question; "Why make a blog, then?" Well, it's quite very simple, my dear lovely reader.

I don't know.

I don't know why I signed up, I don't know why I'm even talking to you people through a goddamn page. I don't even know if anyone IS IN FACT READING THIS. I just felt... compelled to write to the world, publish what, this little rambling? What goes on in MY life? You don't want to know that. Because, if you did... I'd have to kill you. Or maybe I won't.

That's just the thing, you don't know me. Why should you believe what I say? I say I'll kill you, then suggest I won't, and you immediately think to yourself,

"Why, he's just some crazy blogger with insomnia or some sorts! Why would he come and kill me? How would he find me?"

When you should be thinking to yourself,

"Why wouldn't he kill me? Everything I've done, everything I've lived amongst... what's his reasoning for letting me live? He could've easily killed me back at the sub-station, or at the bank, or as I was unlocking my front door, or as I was sleeping..."



You don't know who I am, or why I do what I do. But you will. In time. In growing interest. You'll learn to love me. You'll learn to be thankful you live another day. To me, you are all rats. I can choose whether to take a wrong step, per se. I can choose whether I find you adorable or disgusting. I CAN TAKE ACTION.

I can, but do I? Will I? So many questions, it's beautiful. Anyways, my dear readers, I'm going to go take that wrong step I just got done talking about. Stay tuned for tomorrow's episode! Stay safe until then.