Tuesday, October 18, 2011

This is Wrong.

I didn't know just how fucked up my world was until last night after my last post. New knowledge changes everything. I can't go back to Indiana right now and I can't stay with Quinn anymore. If I do, it will almost certainly end in violence.

I know who killed James, now.

What I don't know is who I can trust or how much truth I heard last night.

I'll give you all a dose of truth now though.

On January 29th, 2011 I went AWOL for the first time in my military career and returned to the states because I was asked to come and check back up on my best friend by Quinn. I met up with Quinn and realized he was terrified and angry. I spent a few days bumming around town and on the 5th of February I showed up at Mark's house. He was carrying a box in his hands and looked sick as a dog and freezing too. I opened the door as he approached his house, which I'd never been to before that day. He started to scream at me. In the process he lost his balance and fell.

I yelled out for his neighbor and then hid inside. The ambulance came and got him and I went to see Quinn. He was angry as hell still, and I was beginning to think that had become everyone's default mode. After taking him north, I left again and returned to Russia. I knew about James being dead and I didn't want to stick around. I was upset. I pretended to be clueless and wrote Mark a get well letter and did my job.

But I kept waiting and waiting and finally I wrote him another letter, this time in badly emulated Russian. Time and time again I sent the letter and got nothing back. I saw his blog and realized he was ignoring them. So this time, I kept the usual MO but wrote out a plain letter. And what's interesting is this time he PROPERLY REACTED but yet claimed the envelope was empty. I was upset as all hell.

We met up in our home town, and I drove him out to a friend's. My excuse that his home was too rural was bullshit. I didn't want to possibly trigger his memories of the day he fell because of how angry he was acting. The place we went was the area we used to live in and was far more rural. We talked all night and then I dropped him off at his house. Ian's business confused me. I didn't know all of what Quinn knows back then. But my focus was on staying away from Mark and observing him. He just kept getting weirder and weirder.

I didn't trust him anymore by the time the Slenderman attacked Mark and I's mutual friend and myself. It hurts like hell to say but I don't think he's himself anymore.

Now I think I know why. When encountering the Slenderman many people are somehow swayed toward him, either through voices in their heads or their dreams or just some desire to use his presence for whatever ends they have. But they act more like Ian did, devoted to The Slenderman. Mark was clear, sane, all his actions were confusing but crystal clear.

The night of the two car accident I went to Mark's house to confront him. When I pulled up, I took some time going in through his storm door. Well, he was waiting for me when I did. He got the drop on me, which is surprising because he CANNOT fight. I must have hit my head because I blacked out. When I woke up I was in the back seat of Jon's car with Jon in the passenger seat. Jon was screaming and we were veering into on-coming traffic. The car in the opposite lane swerved off the road, into the ditch and hit a tree. We swerved off with it.

The official report will tell you Mark was found outside the other car like he was trying to help them. I don't know for sure what happened. I got out of the car as soon as it came to a stop, but Jon was dead silent and not moving in the front seat. Mark and I tusseled and I'm afraid I really did hurt his back. What I didn't know is that he was carrying a knife. It took about two cuts and the sound of police sirens before I got out of there.

What happened between then and when the cops arrived I don't know. All I know is that I ran into a wooded area right beside the crash site and when it was done, no one but Mark seemed to be able to remember the real situation. I think he played me, Jon, Ian, all of you.

I also have an inkling why he might be pissed off and it has nothing to do with being a so-called 'Proxy.' I've left Quinn's place with a lot of his stuff... actually a lot of Mark's stuff. I don't have a 'safe house' and I cannot go home. I've also made the executive decision that Quinn no longer has a right to post on this blog or control any of the accounts involved. I've changed the password to all of Mark's old accounts and Ian's as well. I hope none of you were attached to Quinn. I was until last night.

To any of Quinn's friends at this 'Connection.' I don't think you have any idea what kind of man is protecting you. It's best if you get away from him now. I don't like to be the one to have to do this. I'd like to say this started out as someone innocently blogging their thoughts and days and ended up as some sort of fucked up narrative but I'm not sure it wasn't really a fucked up narrative to begin with.

The night that I left Rick's place, Mark left us to die. He only came back toward us when I started to get loose and then was knocked away a little too easily. Like he actually didn't care. That's why I took Rick away. That's why I told him to play stupid for the rest of his life. I can only hope he listens. I'm going to make personal check ins on Ian and Jon and then I'm clueless.

1 comment:

  1. If it's not Proxism...?

    How are you doing since posting this?