I'm still alive

Sorry for the delays. Family business got in the way. At least they seem to be safe.

Keep getting bugged about how I got so injured. Stitches came out finally, though. I seem to be healing up quickly.

Migraine keeps acting up though, not sure if its just me having a chronic migraine, or some shit with all this crap.

I'd love to try and show the .txt files, but for some reason when I try and copy/paste them onto the blog, it comes out blank. And its mostly a bunch of random letters jumbled together, or so it seems.

I finally finished checking the laptop. I found one hidden file, and one alone. Its heavily encrypted, and needs a password. The file name is "DRRUPI" Anybody have any clue what that might mean?

Laptop

I bit the bullet and started to go over the laptop like a man obsessed. I'm not really finding anything much, a few .TXT files that are the generic bullshit. "HEISWATCHING" and all that. I'll upload a transcription soon, maybe there's something I missed.

Been left alone, as of late. I think the...brutal reaction to Two Face sort of surprised them, so they're backing off a bit.

That or they just want me to stew for a bit.

conclusion

Something in me just...snapped. It was like everything became blood red...It was like something out of a movie, I didn't even think about doing anything, it just...happened...it was like I wasn't even in control anymore. I threw the crowbar at her, causing her to duck...and I just leapt on her. Like a fucking animal. I have only flashes of memories, of what happened. I remember feeling a blade stuck in my side, while my hands were wrapped around her throat, squeezing tightly...watching her eyes bulge out as she tried to get me to let go.

Next flash, I apparently had gotten the crowbar again. She'd gone limp, but apparently I didn't care. I can't...begin to describe what I did...what I watched myself do. I just didn't stop hitting until there was nothing left...just a mass of flesh, bone, and sinew. It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. She deserved it. She deserved to die. But she was still someone's child...and I feel sick for them. For if they ever do I.D. her corpse, someone has to be told that their baby girl is dead.

I finally seemed to come to, the rage having drained out of me, and everything was starting to catch up. I realized how cold it was, my eye was burning, apparently during the melee she had managed to cut across my eye, and I realized how much blood I had lost. I had sunk down against a wall, not sure what to do. I grabbed my cell phone, almost about to dial 911, but I stopped. No cop, or jury, or anybody, would ever believe that this was self defense. Not with her body looking like it did. Only thing I could think of to do, was try and leave a message to anyone I could.

I posted to the comments on the RT blog. I heard footsteps coming. And I saw, peeking around a corner, one of those fucking masks...I passed out, likely due to blood loss.

I woke up in a hospital. The doctors telling me that I'd been attacked, and some anonymous good samaritan had delivered me there. Even going so far as to hide their appearance with a strange mask. They said my injuries were severe but I was surprisingly healing quickly, and fairly well. They hadn't expected me to pull through with a gut injury and with all the blood I'd lost. I was in a daze most of the time I was there...A mixture of emotional turmoil and drugs to kill the pain as they stitched me back together. Finally I was dropped off at home.

Among my personal items, was included a backpack. It has a laptop inside of it...fairly generic cheap-o laptop. I've already disabled its webcam, but I'm sitting here, looking at it. Not sure if should mess with it or not. There was a message taped to it. "SOMETHING YOU MIGHT NEED"

~
JZ

Continuation

I realized that it was all real. That it was me, not my character, that fell in love with that girl...with Stella Mackenzie. That Two Face bitch murdered her, and came for me too. I haven't heard from Harry...I only pray he's still alive. If not, I'm sorry for all the shit I put him through. No matter how much we butted heads, he never deserved anything like this.

My character....rather, I, spent a few months. Trying to figure out how to bring her back...it'd been done before. It could be done again, I said. the Reintegration Tablet offered advice, but told me that it would not be wise. That there would be a price...Nothing I did seemed to work. I'm still looking now, but I've just about given up hope.

Then that bitch Two Face attacked me. I was walking past the burnt down remnants of a house, nearby my own, creepiest place I've ever seen. I heard a crying sound, figuring someone had been messing around and hurt themselves, I went to check it out. She was there, knife at the ready. I barely recognized her from the description, she was so thin. Like she'd not eaten in ages.

She kept going on and on about how she killed Stella. How it was such an amazing thrill and how she was going to do the same to me, as a favor, so I could be there with Stella in hell. How she'd be so kind and lay me down next to Stella in death.

Bitch didn't expect me to be armed. She was fast with that knife, but she didn't even seem interested in blocking. I smacked her around a bit with the crowbar...I'd be lying if I didn't get a satisfied feeling from hearing a crack when I hit her elbow. Other than a few key points, its pretty much a big blur, I was going on instinct, and what I know of martial arts.

I zigged when I should have zagged, unfortunately, and she managed to slice open my chest. Still a bit sore, and the stitches'll be there for a while. No permanent damage, just a deep cut. This seemed to really set her off, giggling like a lunatic. We went back to the fight, that...incessant giggling. That fucking giggling, she told me how she killed Stella. Used her as decorations, as practice for the others. How Stella screamed for me in the end, and how I couldn't save her.

Sorry...just...give me a minute. this...this is still kind of some fucked up shit, and I'm having trouble getting it all out.

God help me for what I've done.

Stella is gone.

Right, figured I might as well get my own blog going...maybe I can help some people out there. Maybe not. I don't know. And I frankly don't give a rats ass.

Its been a few days since I was released from the hospital, so I figured I might as well write my story so far...at least have some sort of message for the future, should I somehow get my dumbass killed.

It all started with me finding some of those blogs. You know the ones...The one I mostly followed was "Exilis Veritas.", (roughly translated from Latin, Slender Truth.) I got into it. I thought it was all just a game. Just a stupid alternate reality game. I loved the spooky stories, and I loved the shivers running up and down my spine. It was fun, and I actually seemed to have an impact, make a difference. Then it all went to hell.

My 'character', really just me, had fallen in love with one of the people there. She was a sweet girl, with a tragic past. Her Tumblr was Nova Tenebria....things didn't go so well.

I kept at it, thinking this was such an awesome game, but just a game. Just some made up thing, it couldn't really be true, could it? The world was such a safe place. We had plenty of real life horrors to fight, so it was nice to simply pretend to fight off another other worldly horror. That's all it was to me. A game.

Until I started to see them.

Small hints of movement out of the corners of my eyes, people ducking around corners, behind trees, whenever I turned to look. Hints of people in masks. Some looking downright psychotic. It came to a head when I saw one stalking me as I headed home from a friends house, that's when I started carrying a crowbar wherever I went. I can't afford a gun, and while I know how to use one, I can't even afford the license for one.

I've got a pellet rifle at my house, but I can't very well walk around waving it around, so I've simply kept a crowbar on me at all times. They seem to not use guns in general anyway, too loud, too messy, and too easy to trace. Not to mention with all the taxes on ammunition, at least in America, it doesn't work out for the frugal psychopath.

They've not really bothered me. Just seeming to observe. This is actually the first time any of them have fucked with me, and I really don't think that that...bitch, was following any orders other than the ones in her twisted little mind.

Gotta take my meds, damn pain killers. I'll write more later.
~JZ