On the Road

My oh my it is good to have a bit of freedom now! The open air, the road stretching in every direction, screams of the dying rising from the ditches. This is how I want to live. I do, regrettably, admit that I've been holding back. I'm on a mission, and if I get too caught up in my own affairs I could wind up as aimless as Gallows (no offense).

Oh yes, speaking of Gallows, there is much to say about him and his... dull companion. Gallows appears to be taking the Halloween costume route of murderous psychopathy (not that I criticize him for this), wearing a very well-fashioned skeleton jacket. The hood extends to a cloth mask that covers most of his face barring eye-holes (as for his eyes, not much can be said - I think he may be using black paint to obscure them). All of this leads to a really quite frightening spectacle. In fact, when we first met he greeted me by bursting out the front door while flailing a scythe and screaming like a demon. Fortunately, he calmed down when I gave him the finger. It does not at all surprise me that most of those we capture have shit in their pants before we even  begin to torment them.

As for Graves, she appears to have gone with a... cowboy motif. That is, if a cowboy was mixed with a gravedigger and a sociopath (not that the two are mutually exclusive). Dark blue jeans, suspenders, construction boots, shovel, rope, black cowboy hat... the works. Most interesting is her bandana, which also displays a skeleton motif. Is this coincidence or... imitation? I doubt I'll find out. It's hard to intimidate those black... black eyes.

Anyways, the journey! After our preliminary greetings (an ensemble of formalities and... less-than-formalities), Gallows invited me in for a drink and a meal. Though I partook in the drink, I declined the meal (cannibalism disagrees with my stomach, not my sense of morality). A few humorous anecdotes and methods of torture were exchanged, and then we were off!

The Slender Man has endowed me with certain... gifts. One of them is what many of you call teleportation (I personally hate the term; the experience is a lot more... organic than is implied). While many of my contemporaries can do so with little effort, I require a bit more time and focus. The upside?

When we arrived in the library, I grinned. Books, furniture and people instantly combusted, the tiny scream of fast-burning paper mixing with those of the dying. Gallows practically exploded with delight, falling upon them with such vigor I was surprised he did not take to the air. Graves, ever the silent companion, followed close behind. What a duo they make. As for me... I watched. I watched as it all burned. Blood crackled in the heat, bones snapped from the flames, and I stood... right in the center.



Oh yes, and Gallows, as much as I've been enjoying this trip, if you try anything, I will leave you in goddamn Belgium. Where all the signs are in French or Dutch.