This is pHIL here. I'm back, alive and in one piece.
Sorry about leaving with no warning, but I had a pretty good reason. Seems slendy has decided that the way I do things isn't good enough, that I'm not a real proxy after all. Dude's a prick.
He made his move on the fourth, this month. I was at my computer, checking over some footage in case of redlight making a move (he was), when He was there. Slim fucker had his hooks in deep, still does, and I panicked. Fight or flight, blindly trying to get away. Broke contact by virtue of jumping out of a window, but I wasn't in a fit state of mind. Gibbering, writing in code. scaredworthlesscolduseless.
proxies didn't know, I came back. started delegating to Grace, a few others. They're in charge now; do the job and do it well, people. Sorry I could't stay. Deimos got wind, somehow, of what happened. Said he'd kill me, destroy all I've worked towards. would've been a bloodbath, proxy against proxy. Couldn't allow that. Ran away, taking a couple things. Hoodie, food cash gun knife. Not sure why I took them. Don't want to kill proxies, don't want to kill runners, don't want to kill. Why did I kill so freely. cant worry about the past, I'll do that when I'm dead.
So I ran. walked out of the base, took advantage of the blindspots in the surveillance I'd set up. Left London. It took a long time, circuitous rout, not using the path. To use the path is to get caught by slenderman. It was hard, jumping at every shadow, expecting each one to reach out and cut me down. Saw Him, a couple of times. Standing there. Fucking staringSTARING. FUCKER..
Sorry. Azoth is angry Azoth wants to fight. I can't. I won't. I can't.
Um, right. Leaving london. So fucking cold.
Had some trouble with runners. Fucking Deimos spreading th news, or people following the blog. wanted to teach the sonofabitch proxy a lesson, kill the fucker slowly. Had to change my look, dye my hair. Profile picture isn't that accurate, missing scars, but now even less so. May have to change it at some point. It helped, but a few are still trying to get me. John Thompson, Hector Smith. Got a grudge, because I killed Anne Thompson, his sister. Because of my orders, on the 30th of August, a safehouse where she and several others were staying was attacked. She tried to fight back, got shot. Died instantly. At the time, I'd thought of it as a success. 6 runners dispersed, one killed. One injured timberwolf/ no other casualties. fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK.
If you're reading this Im sorry. but I'm not going to die for your revenge. Don't want to die yet, so much more to do. Too much.
I was nearly out of London when I saw hm. A servant, hoodie. Thought it was a proxy. Twin triangles. Timberwolf? Gasmask.