Dear god you would not imagine the two weeks I've had.
I quite literally spent a fortnight in a toilet.
I mean... I like shitting as much as the next guy. A nice long shit is 5 minutes in solitude and silence. Possibly with a book, maybe just reflecting on the universe. There is an untapped joy in having a shit that the masses of society really have yet to discover.
But hiding in a toilet from an obscure scientific society that wants to use you as a lab-rat that have three agents on the other side of the blocked door really isn't my sort of thing.
Ever lived off cereal bars and coke for a couple of weeks? well I have and it ain' purty.
I don't know what happened, exactly. I only saw the bloody aftermath, and heard quite a few screams. Nothing seemed eaten though. Merely torn apart, so I'm thinking it's the tall git.
I think I probably need a new hotel before I go searching for Casey, don't you?
The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul
I deeply apologise for the terry pratchett references.
Monday 13 August 2012
Saturday 28 July 2012
Mosquitos
I arrived at the address to find it was a rather run-down hotel in the east-end of the city. When I stepped into the lobby, Andrew was waiting in a suit and tie, sat reading a copy of The Times with his legs crossed. He got up, shook my hand and explained that he knew of the blog, and that he had plane tickets booked for the next day. He also told me to be less specific about exact locations, so I've decided to go along with that policy for the time being.
With a nod to the receptionist, she got up and opened a door leading into what I originally thought would be a cupboard, but was in fact a staircase into the basement. As I descended down the metal steps behind him, he began to explain what the RDPD are.
The Research Department for Paranormal Disturbances are a loosely government based organisation that specify in retrieving and experimenting on supernatural and paranormal stuff. The reason they attacked the MCO facility was because they wished to strap me down and use me as bait for the "sevescori" as Andrew called it. Andrew tried to get me away from both organisations because frankly, what the MCO wanted to do, and was doing, wasn't any better. They'd been extracting skin, blood, bone marrow etc. samples from me while I was sleeping in their facility, to try and see if there are any physical factors involved in choosing who they hunt. After they were done with this, they were planning on killing me...which is a pretty shitty fate as well.
He didn't know too much about the MCO themselves, apart from the fact that their proper name and title is the "Maelstrom Containment Operation", and that they'd shut down all mentions of the seedeater online to the best of their ability, only faltering in the instance of seedeater.blogspot.com, where the shut-down was a temporary matter. They try their best to uphold the "ordinances", thus allowing the hunt to go undisturbed and not make it any worse.
oshit I'm late for my plane...I'll make a less messy post when I've gotten to the hotel. Hang on, Casey...I'm comin' for ya!
Did I mention I now have myself 10,000 pounds? :3
Did I mention I now have myself 10,000 pounds? :3
Thursday 26 July 2012
In london
going to meet up with the agent tomorrow.
If I'm lucky I'll get plane tickets to portland, look at the comments of the last post for an explanation I need to go
If I'm lucky I'll get plane tickets to portland, look at the comments of the last post for an explanation I need to go
Monday 23 July 2012
Casey?
I just saw casey's comment on "An Overdue Explanation I"
What do you need help with?
What's even fucking happened with you?
look...please try to talk to me... contact me on skype if need be.
just talk to me.
What do you need help with?
What's even fucking happened with you?
look...please try to talk to me... contact me on skype if need be.
just talk to me.
An Overdue Explanation Part II
Sorry for the incomplete post. I was interrupted by one of the MCO coming into the cafe. I took the train down south a bit more. I'm now in a rather obscure town near the coast.
Anyway...as I was saying.
I broke a vent and climbed through the tight space for about 6 metres or so before turning a corner and clambering into a dusty and dark maintenance tunnel. The air seemed heavy and humid and the space ahead of me was tight and claustrophobic. I edged along to a bend roughly 10 metres ahead, my path dimly illuminated by the glow of my laptop (ok...so I carried my laptop with me...it may be clunky, but it's practical!). Tremors from the explosions shook the tunnel, causing dust and rubble to fall to the ground and, on occasion, me.
Eventually I turned the corner to see a door on the other side with a dimly glowing fire escape sign above it. I started to run towards it. Through a vent I could make out the faint sound of gunfire. The bunker sounded as if it had been fully breached.
Moments before I could push the door open, it blasted outwards sending me reeling back. I cried out with pain as the dust settled before me. The door had been completely knocked off its hinges, as well as a few chunks of the wall surrounding the frame. In the now open space stood the seedeater, glaring at me. This time there were no apologies for the pain, or begging for mercy. It was desperate and hungry. I tried to get to my feet, but it was too late. The monstrosity was already charging towards me, tackling me to the ground and pinning me down.
The rest was somewhat of a blur to me, but to my understanding a couple of "RDPD" agents burst through the gap, firing at the creature. This just pissed him off... as he grabbed me by the head, smashed the back of my skull into the ground (which hurt like a bitch, might I add) and ran off to the guy shooting at him. I don't know exactly what happened then, as I was fading out of consciousness...but by the look of what we could recover of that guys body after he was done with him...'Seedy must have been pretty damn hungy.
When I regained consciousness a few hours later, an RDPD agent was leaning over me, tending to my wounds and by the looks of it, holding back tears.He told me his name was Andrew and that he couldn't stay long, but that we should meet up in London at an address he had put inside my bag, but I shouldn't turn up any sooner than the 27th of July. He claimed that he would reveal all soon...but that I shouldn't trust the MCO, as their intent towards me wasn't exactly benevolent.
He gave me a marked map of the quickest way out of the facility and into the great outdoors again, and went off to tell the RDPD that I had been sighted heading west, whereas I had actually been instructed to head east.
Since then I've been on the move constantly...It's only been the last few nights that I've not been hounded for enough time to find an internet connection and get down to business.
The worst thing? They've frozen my family's accounts now. I have maybe £200 of funds left over and that's it.
I don't know what to do for the next few days.
Survive, I guess. I'm good at that.
Anyway...as I was saying.
I broke a vent and climbed through the tight space for about 6 metres or so before turning a corner and clambering into a dusty and dark maintenance tunnel. The air seemed heavy and humid and the space ahead of me was tight and claustrophobic. I edged along to a bend roughly 10 metres ahead, my path dimly illuminated by the glow of my laptop (ok...so I carried my laptop with me...it may be clunky, but it's practical!). Tremors from the explosions shook the tunnel, causing dust and rubble to fall to the ground and, on occasion, me.
Eventually I turned the corner to see a door on the other side with a dimly glowing fire escape sign above it. I started to run towards it. Through a vent I could make out the faint sound of gunfire. The bunker sounded as if it had been fully breached.
Moments before I could push the door open, it blasted outwards sending me reeling back. I cried out with pain as the dust settled before me. The door had been completely knocked off its hinges, as well as a few chunks of the wall surrounding the frame. In the now open space stood the seedeater, glaring at me. This time there were no apologies for the pain, or begging for mercy. It was desperate and hungry. I tried to get to my feet, but it was too late. The monstrosity was already charging towards me, tackling me to the ground and pinning me down.
The rest was somewhat of a blur to me, but to my understanding a couple of "RDPD" agents burst through the gap, firing at the creature. This just pissed him off... as he grabbed me by the head, smashed the back of my skull into the ground (which hurt like a bitch, might I add) and ran off to the guy shooting at him. I don't know exactly what happened then, as I was fading out of consciousness...but by the look of what we could recover of that guys body after he was done with him...'Seedy must have been pretty damn hungy.
When I regained consciousness a few hours later, an RDPD agent was leaning over me, tending to my wounds and by the looks of it, holding back tears.He told me his name was Andrew and that he couldn't stay long, but that we should meet up in London at an address he had put inside my bag, but I shouldn't turn up any sooner than the 27th of July. He claimed that he would reveal all soon...but that I shouldn't trust the MCO, as their intent towards me wasn't exactly benevolent.
He gave me a marked map of the quickest way out of the facility and into the great outdoors again, and went off to tell the RDPD that I had been sighted heading west, whereas I had actually been instructed to head east.
Since then I've been on the move constantly...It's only been the last few nights that I've not been hounded for enough time to find an internet connection and get down to business.
The worst thing? They've frozen my family's accounts now. I have maybe £200 of funds left over and that's it.
I don't know what to do for the next few days.
Survive, I guess. I'm good at that.
Saturday 21 July 2012
An overdue explanation
I'm sorry I haven't been able to post this sooner. The power completely went out for quite a long time and...yeah...I've relocated by now.
After making that post about the estate agent looking around the house I was staying in, I had decided to head south again by train. I stopped at Woking and then decided to spend the day walking South-West to West Clandon to lie low. By about 1 pm I was passing through Kingfield, when I was approached by the policeman who gave me weird looks at the station, dressed in a slightly dirty suit with what looked like a bullet-proof jacket underneath. He claimed he knew what it was I was up against, and the "MCO could help".
I was desperate at the time...I had no idea on what to do, apart from running.
So I took the lift he was offering, as stupid an idea as it may have been. Please...understand that I was desperate.
I had no choice.
Anyway...he took me to some sort of armoured van or something. A woman clutching some sort of rifle opened up the back from inside and beckoned me in. They all looked pretty nervous and on the edge...In the darkness of the back of the van, I could make out what looked like a filled bodybag strapped down behind the driver's seat. I later found out that they'd been trying to capture the seedeater and failed, as they normally do.
When we arrived, I was forced to put on a blindfold and be led into the bunker I was staying in. It was a cold and bare place, clearly built for practicality rather than comfort. The only furniture around was placed in the dining area and in the dormitories. I wasn't allowed in most of the bunker, and they wouldn't tell me much about why they wanted me.
But it was after a few days of me staying there, that the siege itself took place. I was woken up to humongous boom, and dust falling upon my bunk. Everyone seemed to be in panic and disarray. No one really spoke to me, yet again, for the first few hours. Eventually Sarah, one of the nicer guards (I.E: someone who acknowledged my existence), told me she couldn't tell me too much right now, but that I might have to be led away into a safer place. All I could catch from the staff were murmurings of the "RDPD" going "rouge" and that it was "Probably over the boy" which, as you could probably imagine, made me feel like shit.
People were presumably being hurt due to me...and I didn't even know why. Most of the guards avoided me...resented me. I was a burden and nobody would fucking tell me why I was there, why they were fighting for me and how they could "help".
My internet was dying pretty frequently, but it was that night that I turned up for Puppet's livestream. I was hoping to talk to him about now...but I gather that he's...not available right now. It's times like these when I miss Casey, too. Those two were all I had left.
A few days into the internet having completely gone out, and the sound of gunfire becoming more and more frequent, I was ushered into a small room even further underground by two armed guards in their pure black uniform. The room itself was furnished with nothing but a bed, dim lamp and a plug socket. I spent a lot of my time playing minecraft and trying not to panic too much.
Needless to say, my attempts to stay calm were fruitless. I bro
After making that post about the estate agent looking around the house I was staying in, I had decided to head south again by train. I stopped at Woking and then decided to spend the day walking South-West to West Clandon to lie low. By about 1 pm I was passing through Kingfield, when I was approached by the policeman who gave me weird looks at the station, dressed in a slightly dirty suit with what looked like a bullet-proof jacket underneath. He claimed he knew what it was I was up against, and the "MCO could help".
I was desperate at the time...I had no idea on what to do, apart from running.
So I took the lift he was offering, as stupid an idea as it may have been. Please...understand that I was desperate.
I had no choice.
Anyway...he took me to some sort of armoured van or something. A woman clutching some sort of rifle opened up the back from inside and beckoned me in. They all looked pretty nervous and on the edge...In the darkness of the back of the van, I could make out what looked like a filled bodybag strapped down behind the driver's seat. I later found out that they'd been trying to capture the seedeater and failed, as they normally do.
When we arrived, I was forced to put on a blindfold and be led into the bunker I was staying in. It was a cold and bare place, clearly built for practicality rather than comfort. The only furniture around was placed in the dining area and in the dormitories. I wasn't allowed in most of the bunker, and they wouldn't tell me much about why they wanted me.
But it was after a few days of me staying there, that the siege itself took place. I was woken up to humongous boom, and dust falling upon my bunk. Everyone seemed to be in panic and disarray. No one really spoke to me, yet again, for the first few hours. Eventually Sarah, one of the nicer guards (I.E: someone who acknowledged my existence), told me she couldn't tell me too much right now, but that I might have to be led away into a safer place. All I could catch from the staff were murmurings of the "RDPD" going "rouge" and that it was "Probably over the boy" which, as you could probably imagine, made me feel like shit.
People were presumably being hurt due to me...and I didn't even know why. Most of the guards avoided me...resented me. I was a burden and nobody would fucking tell me why I was there, why they were fighting for me and how they could "help".
My internet was dying pretty frequently, but it was that night that I turned up for Puppet's livestream. I was hoping to talk to him about now...but I gather that he's...not available right now. It's times like these when I miss Casey, too. Those two were all I had left.
A few days into the internet having completely gone out, and the sound of gunfire becoming more and more frequent, I was ushered into a small room even further underground by two armed guards in their pure black uniform. The room itself was furnished with nothing but a bed, dim lamp and a plug socket. I spent a lot of my time playing minecraft and trying not to panic too much.
Needless to say, my attempts to stay calm were fruitless. I bro
Thursday 28 June 2012
I'm safe for now
I can't say much because they might find us.
But the compound's safe. I know that much.
Shit the internet's about to go out. I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
But the compound's safe. I know that much.
Shit the internet's about to go out. I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
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