Monday, August 23, 2010


   I know who they will send after me. I met them once, in the year I helped the Gentlemen. The year of regrets and mistakes.

   We thought we found a Door. It was cold and raining and we were having trouble locating it. They said they were bringing in "experts" to help. They said that the experts could persuade locals into helping us. "They are well known for their persuasive ability," they said. They didn't lie.

   Imagine Laurel and Hardy. Now imagine Laurel and Hardy in the real world - the world away from the television, the world that can knock you down at a moment's notice. One was tall and thin, the other short and chubby. They wore suits like the other Gentlemen, but on them it The short one grinned too much. The tall one looked at his fingernails.

   Their names were Mr. Voss and Mr. Wolfcatcher. They didn't give us first names (none of the Gentlemen liked using their first names either, but I have the distinct impression that Voss and Wolfcatcher didn't have first names). Voss was the thin one, Wolfcatcher the short one.

   They were independant trackers. Persuaders. And, as I found out very soon, unrepentant killers.

Sunday, August 1, 2010


   My left hand is pretty much useless. The doctor said it would take months before I could use my fingers again.

   I am forced to admit that I am a runner. I run.

   A while ago, I met another runner, running from something else. He told me about it -- this creature he called the Slender Man -- and how it had no face and couldn't be killed. "We made it," he said, in a slightly crazed voice. "We made it with our minds."

   I don't agree with him. (For one, I have no idea if this Slender Man exists or not - I saw no proof, but then again, I have seen stranger things.) I don't think human minds could come up with such incomprehensible things.

  We seek order from chaos. We hope to comprehend. We are doomed to failure.