Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Badside, City X

I've decided to stop in a city for a couple of weeks, as I'm starting to exhaust myself. I need to take a break, rethink my plans and start giving my days a better structure or I'm going to die on the road.

It didn't take long to find my way to the rundown part of the city with abandoned buildings galore for me to sleep in. Not the safest place in the world, I know, but...is anywhere safe with that thing always there? It's so frustrating, because I'll be doing fine for a while, he hasn't even crossed my mind, then the second I think of him, he's there, walking towards me from a crowd, looking down on me from a window or just lurking menacingly nearby.

The café I'm in is closing, so I'd better get off this thing and head back to the warehouse I'm staying in tonight. Hopefully I'll be able to avoid all the prostitutes this time. Night, guys.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Simple Pleasures

I'm really glad I brought my iPod with me, even if I sometimes lose it for a few hours at a time before I get a chance to recharge it. I don't know what I'd do without my music. Johnny Cash's American IV is the ideal album for long hikes along roadsides and when I stop for a rest, I like to play Canabalt to occupy my mind. The two don't really mix though, as I discovered. Also, the other night I was having trouble sleeping, so I watched Charlie Wilson's War, which is a terrific watch and needs more appreciation from people my age.

For now, I'm just gonna keep heading where I'm heading. No, I'm not giving any more information than that. It's bad enough having the monster following me, I don't need anyone or anything else doing it.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

In America

I decided to put some mileage on these shoes before I updated, though I doubt anyone will even think to look for me for at least a week or two, And even then they'd be more likely to be looking for my body than for me alive.

For now, my only plans are to keep moving. I'm not saying where I am or what direction I'm moving, for obvious reasons. I've got supplies that I can stretch for about a month and enough money to buy another month's on top of that, but unless I figure out a better long-term plan, things are going to get hairy.

I'm eager to get going, so I won't linger. I'll update soon, probably.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012


I'm at Cork Airport. I look perfectly normal; a young college-age man dispensing with academics and getting ready to backpack across the world. After I finish this post, I'll be boarding my plane for my round the world trip. Or so I'll tell anyone who asks. Luckily, I'm a good actor.

Last night, I had a dream. I heard things but I can't remember who whispered them. Either way, I knew they were true. God moves in mysterious ways and he made a move last night. I am his judgement on Royal Richardson.

I waited near his home and followed him when he left to go to the theatre, no doubt intent on continuing his preparations for whatever sick plan he had for us all. Nothing I could find about the play indicated its purpose but he wasn't putting it on for shits and giggles.

When I arrived, I entered silently as I had last time and listened for the creak of floorboards. They were coming from above so, as silently as I could, I ascended and eventually found Royal looking over all from a balcony. He didn't even hear me coming. All I had to do was reach out with my left hand...

His fall was not graceful. He screamed and flailed and landed flat on his back with a tremendous crash as he smashed through the wood floor. I'd miscalculated though. I heard the sounds of people coming from outside. More drug dealers, probably. Luckily, I'm not a monster like Royal, so I opted to sneak out rather than add another body to the legacy of that rundown old theatre. I don't take pleasure from killing.

Now, I'm waiting. I'm heading for America. It seems like an easy place to get lost and I don't have to worry about learning the language. I'm almost excited, somewhere deep down. It will be a learning experience. I can see where she came from. I can, maybe, survive.

The monster is here. If I didn't know better, I'd almost say he looks pleased.

Monday, January 16, 2012


The melancholia in the air wherever I go is stifling and not just for me. I'm like a wounded gazelle walking among the herd, earning sympathy and pity in equal measure. The only animal I'm concerned with, however, is the jackal in their midst.

Everything's calm, everything's quiet. Things are settling, returning to normal. The self-sustaining systems are realigning and the wheels turn again. Disaster has been averted and the defensive walls are falling.

It's perfect.

Saturday, January 14, 2012


This is where we first made love. As you may have guessed, I'm not a strict Catholic. Honestly, at this stage I'm more or less an undenominated Christian. None of the sects do much for me, they always seem to attach bells and whistles to the message of Christ. We both agreed marriage was just a label. Why would God care whether we had rings on our fingers before we consummated our love as long as we loved each other?

I've known Shannon since I was eight. She came to visit her grandmother in Waterford every summer. She was the best part of every year and we just got closer with each one that passed until we kissed by the quays at the Tall Ships' Race last year. I'd loved her for years and she'd loved me too but that was the first time any thing more than a friendship had become realistic because she was finally coming to live here. At last, I wouldn't have to wait months at a time just to see her face.

She's gone now. He killed her.

Thursday, January 12, 2012


Royal continues to play the gallant knight. I have to give credit where credit is due; he's a good actor. I'd nearly believe that he actually felt some remorse for not saving Shannon in time if the story he concocted wasn't utter tripe and if I hadn't seen him kill her himself.

Unfortunately for Royal, I don't think he realises that I am as good an actor as him, if not better. So I'll keep playing the weak and recovering broken man. I'll watch and I'll wait and I'll seize my opportunity when it comes.

In the meantime, I need to learn how to survive. I've seen the monster a few times since leaving the hospital and what research I've done doesn't exactly inspire confidence. I know you're watching. Give me advice.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012


They tried to stop me going back to college. I'm not prepared, physically, mentally or emotionally, to return, they say. They're right too, but I hide it well enough that they couldn't force me.

I saw him today. Of course I did, he's in most of my classes. Smug bastard. Acting like a hero when he knows he's the villain. Don't know how he lives with himself. Don't care. He smiles too much for someone in his position.

He'll be reckoned one day. God moves in mysterious ways but I know he'll judge Royal Richardson. How could he not judge a servant of evil?

Sunday, January 8, 2012

The True Story

After my last post in December, I followed Shannon out of our apartment. I followed her as best as I could but she was always much more athletic than I am and there were inevitable periods where I lost her. Only guesswork allowed me to reach the theatre mere minutes after she did.

When I arrived, I entered quietly as I could hear the clear and distinct voices of Shannon and Royal arguing. I followed the sound to the backstage area and found the two of them standing among racks of costumes. Shannon was shouting at Royal and brandishing the knife; she was ranting at him, asking him how stupid did he think we were, did he really expect none of us to look into the play and find out what it was really for, how did he think he was going to get away with it-

Royal grabbed her by the throat without warning and started choking her. It took me a second to react and when I did, I threw myself against Royal, knocking him sideways into a pillar. Shannon and I fell to the floor on opposite sides of Royal, her knife clattered across the ground until it was right next to my hand. Suddenly, I felt a rage inside. I grabbed the knife and swung it at Royal, who turned with practised speed and grabbed my wrist. He twisted it and wrenched the knife from my grasp, then proceeded to pound me brutally with his fists. With a particularly hard finishing punch to the stomach, he left me lying on the ground, unable to move and unable to block out the sight and sound as he went over to Shannon, who was still trying to recover from being strangled and started repeatedly stabbing her in the chest.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one who heard her screams because seconds later, the drug dealer came in and asked Royal what the fuck was going on. Royal responded by getting up, walking over to him, grabbing him heavily by the throat, dragging him over to a costume rack, pulling a mask off a costume and shoving it on his head. He pulled him over to a pile of ropes and wrapped a number of them around his neck. Royal then disappeared. The drug dealer tried to struggle his way out of the ropes, but he only succeeded in making them tighter. Moments later, they pulled taut and he was dragged up into the air. At that point, unconsciousness was looming but I stayed awake long to see the last part of Royal's coup de grace. After returning from the rafters, he crouched down over me and displayed the bloody knife he had used to kill Shannon just minutes before. With a grin he muttered four words;

"Let the show begin."

Then, he walked over to where the pile of ropes had been and stabbed himself in the back, just below the ribcage, barely missing some important organs. With little more than a light grunt at the effort, he pulled the knife out, called 911 and then threw himself down on the ground, laughing as he did it. Finally, darkness started to cloud my vision, but not before I saw it. Royal's master, the White King. It appeared from the shadows, looming above us all. If it had a face it would have smiled. But it didn't and that's why the last thing I saw before blackness overtook was the pale, sickly white of the monster's face.

The Official Line

On the day of my last update, Shannon and I went to meet Royal at the old, rundown theatre where our drama group practices. We had arranged to get together and go over the first act and talk about lighting, sound and props. When we were there, a masked assailant entered by the back door. He sneaked up behind Royal and stabbed him just below the ribs, narrowly missing any important organs. He then tossed Royal against a pillar, causing Royal to hit his head against the wood, disorienting him.

Our attacker then turned his sights on Shannon and I. Before she even had a chance to defend herself, he grabbed her and started choking her. I tried to stop him by punching and kicking him but it was to no avail. Still holding Shannon by the neck with one hand, he proceeded to stab her repeatedly in the chest, killing her in a matter of seconds.

After dropping her limp body, he then proceeded to administer a brutal barefisted beatdown to me. Just as I was on the verge of collapsing, Royal regained his composure and jumped on his back, sending the attacker of balance and careening into a pile of ropes attached to a rusty old pully and some sandbags. Somehow, the way he fell amongst the ropes caused the pully's rusty old parts to loosen and our masked attacker was yanked into the air and died from hanging. Royal, now feeling the effects of blood loss, barely managed to call 911 before he collapsed. Shannon and our assailant, a drug dealer, were dead on arrival but Royal and I were alive and were taken to Cork University Hospital for treatment.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Still Alive

I'm in hospital. I'll explain more when I can. They want me to go back to sleep now.