expLAnatIons MaRk ii

I didn't kill Adrian.

He was already dead when I picked open his front door Wednesday(?) night. The steak knife (god I'm stupid I'M STUPID) I had brought was useless. When I opened the door to the room he was in, I didn't find a body.

Not a whole one, at least.

His ribcage wasn't even there. All there was... All there was was a fucking spine. His intestines were strung everywhere, like fucking confetti. And his eyes... they weren't gone. I wish they were but they weren't. Hiseyeswerefollowingmeohgodtheywerefollowingmeohgod...

I knew I had to get the hell out of there. I didn't know if it was proxies, or him or fucking Cthulhu but I had to get out of there. So I ran. I ran to the front door, expecting a quick escape, some kind of ride out of hell that never, never came.

When I opened the door, the field was there. He wasn't in it. hewasbehindme. You see I had to go in there I didn't want to but he made me go in there I... So I went in. And he followed me.

So when I left, later... Let's just say he was so deep in my mind that he decided to take souvenirs. He fucked me up. He may have fucked me up much more that he did to Adrian.

My senses felt like they had been turned 90 degrees. Nothing was familiar, I couldn't think strait. I don't know if I was even thinking at all. I think I might have broken into my house to steal my laptop. Then I ran. Not very far, but far enough.

I ran into the woods. They looped in on me, but I never saw him once. And I wrote. And read. The only things that seemed normal were on the screen. When I looked at photos and videos they came through to me without some weird-ass Machinist-Matrix glaze to it.

Most people, when they start going nuts and becoming Slender-shits claim that they don't remember having written their messed-up posts. I do. I wrote every one of them and I remember thinking every single last one like it was yesterday. The coding... just seemed natural. It was the only way I could write anything without it looking like a cat jumped on my keyboard.

"Then why is this message so clear?" I don't know how many times I'm going to have to look it over before I post it, but I know one thing:

The title's STILL going to be fucking messed up.