Another Mask?

I guess I expected this.  I haven't seen one of the Masks since Gabe, and that was a while ago.  I wasn't to surprised when another one found me.  Or at least I think it was another one.

I've been talking to a few people, and I think I have a place to stay for a few days.  I'm not telling you where exactly I'm going because I'll be easier to track that way and because, well, I have to admit that what I'm doing is sort of stupid.  Canis certainly thought so.  But I can't have anyone talking me out of it and I'm not going there unprepared, so my lips are sealed.

Anyway, I was in a rural area cutting across some fields and pastures.  It can cut a lot of distance off of a trip if an area is laid out in square miles.  Cutting diagonally across a square mile can, in theory, cut it down by...over a mile I think?  It'd be a 45, 45, 90 triangle, so it'd be 1, 1, square root of 2?  I'm not sure how the math works anymore, but it's really cuts it down.

Anyway, I was partway across across a pasture when I saw someone.  He looked over and saw me, and started running at me.

He was dressed in a red zipper hoodie that hid his face, along with running shoes, black polyester sweatpants with reflective white stripes down the side, and what I think was athletic tape wrapped around his hands.  I tried to run but I was weighed down by everything on me.  He, on the other hand, was dressed in light, loose clothes designed for athletics.  There was no way I could outdistance him.

My first thought upon seeing him was that it was Redlight, the sarcastic mastermind who had been responsible for the downfall of White Elephant's Robert Sagel, but I thought he was dead.  Or...came back?  He had the hoodie and the tape, but I thought Redlight wore camo pants.  And why was he after me...?

As I puzzled it over, I reacted in time to just narrowly dodge a fist.  A flurry of quick jabs struck my chest, and he hopped back as fell to the ground.  He jumped back and forth from side to side with his fists up, hood restricting any view of his face.  Whoever he was, he certainly didn't move or act like Redlight.

"Who are you?" I asked.  He didn't answer.  Didn't even respond, like he hadn't heard me.  I shrugged my backpack off and charged at him with Lily.  As I swung he ducked under my staff and threw another jab that connected with my side.  I managed to stay up until his leg swept under me.  He hopped back again, shifting his wait from foot to foot.

This continued for a bit.  I tried to attack, he dodged and counterattacked fluidly.  I'd yell at him, and he wouldn't even acknowledge me.  He wasn't very strong, but he was coordinated.  His movement was almost more like he was dancing than fighting.

Then I noticed something.  He bounced back and forth like he always did, always waiting for me to get to my feet before attacking, when his rhythm...changed.  As if he was a metronome and someone had suddenly shifted the weight.  Then I realized: that's exactly what happened.  He was listening to music.

It made sense.  It's why he didn't respond: he couldn't hear me.  It wasn't like he was dancing; he was dancing!  And as the two of us continued to fight, I noticed that he was definitely fighting to a specific rhythm.  If I could just figure out what that rhythm was, I could maybe use it to my advantage.

Sure enough, now that I could predict his moves, it was easier to block or dodge his punches and kicks.  I even got a few hits in on him (though not many) by trying to attack when his music would have offbeats.  After a few of these hits, though, he redoubled his efforts.  He went on the offensive, driving me back, then managing to slip a punch past my defenses directly into my gut.  As my body doubled over in pain, he jumped back and, instead of launching further attacks, turned and sprinted away.

I lost track of him.  It didn't occur to me to follow him, and I spent the time after the fight catching my breath instead.  I grabbed my pack and staff again and headed across the pasture again, trying to make it to the next town.

The question is...who was that?  I think he's one of the Masks, but he didn't say anything.  I don't know for sure.  Why would he be fighting to music when it made his movement predictable like that?  If he's one of the Masks, why did he run instead of trying to kill me?  The longer this all goes on, the more I'm getting the sense that I have no clue what's going on.

Anyway, you should hear from me again fairly soon.  It probably won't take me to get where I'm going.  I'll let you know then.

Supplies, Part 1

I've heard from just a few people concerning possible places to go.  I may not be heading anywhere in particular for a while, but that's fine.  I'll just keep putting one foot in front of the other, leaning on Lily, leaning on the memories of Lily, always moving another step down the road.

Between the visit to Raggedy and this business with the Masks, I haven't had much time to talk about wandering much.  My personal problems aren't going to help anyone.  But maybe this will.

I keep everything I own in a backpack.  It's one of those big outdoor sporting ones.  I don't really own much anymore, though.  Most everything I have is essential.  I'm not going to go through everything right now, though.  Just the basics and the things that strike me as most important.

Apart from Lily and the backpack itself, my tarp is probably the most valuable.  It's a necessity for creating quick shelters.  It's also pretty much the entirety of my bedding.  No blankets.  No pillows.  No sleeping bags.  Those are all things I'd love, but they're all bulky comfort items that take up too much space.  I'd love to be able to have at least a pillow, but I try to avoid anything that's not absolutely necessary.  I can roll up some clothes for a pillow if I'm desperate enough.  It may not be comfortable, but it keeps heat in and it's versatile and durable.

I only have about two spare changes of clothes.  It's disgusting walking around in dirty clothes all the time, but I can't spare the room for much more than that.  I have three t-shirts, three pairs of jeans, one pair of hiking boots, a warm coat that's not too bulky, and five pairs of socks and underwear.  Things change a bit depending on the season, too.  During the summer, I'll swap a t-shirt for a tank top and a pair of jeans for running shorts.  During the winter I'll add a sweatshirt and some heavier pants, as well as gloves, a hat, and a scarf.  Of course, that's also why I try to head to the south for the winter.  The amount of exposure I'd suffer in the northern states could kill me if the weather got bad enough, even with warmer clothes.

I carry some food on me.  Mostly canned goods since they last pretty well, though it's never fun to eat cold beans straight from the can.  Sometimes, if I'm up to it, I'll start up a fire to heat some of my food up.  I have a can opener on my Swiss Army Knife, which comes in handy a lot.

Speaking of the knife, it's one of the most useful tools I have. I got the best one I could find and I don't regret it at all.  Not all of the tools work the greatest, but they work well enough to get the job done and the fact that it's so compact is a must.

And of course, there's my laptop and my mp3 player, the former to connect me to the world and the latter so that I don't go crazy.  I listen to a lot of audiobooks (I found a good site for some free ones) since they don't actually take up space and I can listen to them on the go.

Those are just a few of the things that I find most valuable.  There's more, of course.  I'll get into those later.  For now, though, I've finished my coffee and I need to get moving so that I can find a place to sleep for the night.

A Request

Canis and I have parted ways.  I'm back on my own again.

I'm out of Texas now.  I probably won't say which direction I headed, other than "not south."  I'm still in the US.  I don't know why I've never tried leaving the country.  Probably because it wouldn't really matter.  He'll find me no matter where I go.  They'll find me no matter where I go.

Basically, I have a request for anyone out there who might be reading.  Is there anyone who would be willing to take me in for a brief period of time?

I know it's a lot to ask, especially with these Ten Mask guys after me.  Still, I could maybe make it worth your time.  I'd gladly do some work for you.  I could maybe pay you.  Maybe someone else will.  Someone left Raggedy a thousand dollars after I took off, and while I don't like the idea of someone following me like that, there's nothing wrong with some extra money, right?

I don't know.  I guess that after all this business with the Ten Masks and these other Fears showing up, I just don't want to be alone anymore.  At the very least, I haven't encountered any since the Black Dog incident, so that's at least something to be thankful for.

Black Dog

Canis and I visited the church where Gabe attacked me the other day.  He was looking for any clues to who and what the Masks might be.  He didn't find any clues in the church itself, but he said that it provided him with a good place to think.

"I think I can see a pattern emerging," he said, "but I'm not sure enough of it yet.  Even then, I can't use it to actually predict anything.  The next Mask could be anyone, anywhere, at any time."  He stood up.  "I'm sorry, Kenny.  All I can do at this point is use you as bait.  Withhold your location from the blog if you need to, but give me all the details you can in an e-mail.  Where you were, where you were headed, what time it was...I want everything.  I don't think they'll kill you.  Not yet.  I'm so sorry that I can't act as a bodyguard at this point in time, but I'll be trying to stay one step ahead of them for your sake."

We started driving back but stopped at a Burger King to grab a bit to eat for lunch.  As we headed back to Canis's police cruiser, he held up an arm, stopping me.

"Kenny," he hissed, "don't move."  I looked up and saw something move around from behind the car.  It was some form of dog, or wolf or something, standing at least five feet from ground to back.  Night-black, with intense red eyes and gleaming white fangs, saliva dripping from them as its lips pulled back in a snarl.

The Black Dog.  But what was it doing here?  From what I had learned, the Black Dog was the Fear of being found out.  Of being hunted down or having your secrets exposed.  But I don't have any major secrets, and I don't have to worry so much about being found now.  Why was it coming after me now?

"Kenny," Canis said in calm, measured tones, "on the count of three, I want you to run.  It doesn't matter where.  Just down the sidewalk there.  I want you to run as fast as you can."

I nodded, and he started counting.  On "three," I bolted.  I sprinted for about a minute straight, and finally slowed when I realized that I couldn't hear any sound of pursuit behind me.  I looked back.  Neither Canis nor the Black Dog was anywhere in sight.

After a bit of hesitation, I decided to take a chance and head back to the parking lot.  Canis was there, winded, fumbling with his keys.  "In the car," he said with a sense of urgency that I didn't ask any questions.  He had barely started the engine when I saw the Dog come barreling around the street corner.  It barely lost any momentum coming around the curb, and Canis wasted no time putting the squad car in gear.

"Why's it after me?" I asked, craning my neck around to watch.  It was keeping pace with us.  Maybe even gaining on us.

Canis turned the sirens on, plowing through red lights in an attempt to lose the beast.  "It's not.  It's after me."  I stared at him.  "Don't look so shocked," he said flatly.  "You know that I'm familiar with the Fears.  Did you think I'd never had any encounters with them myself?"  He paused.  "Don't worry, we're not in any danger.  I've done this before."  Sure enough, after a few twists and turns, he managed to shake the Dog from our trail.

I've been spending the time since thinking.  Obviously, if the Black Dog is after him, he has his own secrets he wants to stay hidden.  Are these secrets that could hurt me, or just things he doesn't want to share very easily?  What other Fears has Canis encountered?  Has he helped people like me in the past?

All I know is that I'm thinking it maybe would be a good idea to split from Canis soon. I don't like that he's essentially using me as bait, but I trust him when he says that there's no other way.  He can't protect me without knowledge, and he can't get that knowledge without putting me in a tricky position.  I just wish that there was some other way.

Edwin Canis

Thanks to Canis I now have a working bank account that I've got a fair amount of funds in.

"I'm sorry that I can't personally provide you with anything," he told me.  I let him know that his help alone has already done far more for me than money would.  "Just make sure to ration it."

I already know how to ration money.  I've had to for almost a year now.  But with the money from my parents that Canis has managed to secure for me, I'll at least have something to fall back on in case of emergencies.  He's made it easier for me to have money on hand.  I don't have to have cash on me now, so I don't have to risk carrying larger sums.  He's also made it so that I don't have to be afraid of using an account.  I can be traced through it, yes, but most likely only by authorities.  Maybe the best thing that Canis has done for me is to make sure that the authorities aren't my enemies anymore.

I asked him how exactly he knew what was going on and what all he knew.  "Well," he said, "as you may have guessed, I've had some contact with the Fears myself.  I've known about them for a while now.  I know how they work.  So when your family and the Andersons were killed, I recognized the methods.  Knew it was the Slender Man.  And since you were still missing, I asked to be put on the case.  I knew you'd need someone who understood."

Canis placed a pair of rectangular glasses on his sharp nose as he began looking through his paperwork.  "You covered your tracks pretty well, Kenny.  Laid low for a while, and by the looks of it, ended up not mentioning your full name or the Anderson girl's on this blog.  It took me a while to find it, and when you finally let slip a less vague location, you left Texas before I managed to track you down."

"Really?" I asked him.  "But wouldn't you be able to find Raggedyman fairly easily?"

"You would think, but it's not actually that simple.  You see, Mr. Schultz doesn't actually exist."

I froze as soon as the words left his mouth, shocked.  "What?  But...but that's impossible!  I met him myself! He...he exists!  He wouldn't lie about who he was, would he?  How could you not have any records of him?"  I reached into my backpack, fumbling for the Yu-Gi-Oh! cards he had sent with me as a parting gift.  "I have some cards he gave me right here!"

"I don't doubt you, Kenny.  And I'm sure that he used his real name.  But he doesn't exist.  Those links on your blog are all dead."  At the shock on my face, he added, "Things like that happen at times when the Fears are involved.  I can't explain why it happens, or even what happens, but sometimes realities don't line up."

At this point I asked Canis if I could use his computer.  He let me, and I checked Raggedy's blog.  It was still there, and I could still read it.  Canis told me that all he saw was a notification that no such page exists.  I exhaled a bit.  As long as he hadn't suddenly ceased existing on me, I didn't have to worry about Chris.

"I think something similar happened to him," I said.  He talked about this one girl.  Aura, or Anna.  I think one was her name and the other was her screen name.  And I think he loved her, but her blogs...didn't exist.  And he kept forgetting things about her.  Even forgetting her name by the end of his visit.  Like she had never existed in the first place."

Canis nodded.  "It's strange.  It's one of the things I'd try to investigate if I had more time.  But right now, I've been more concerned with these 'Ten Masks.'  I've never heard of them before."

"From what I've gathered, they're an elite squad of ten proxies trying to kill me."

"Almost certainly.  Although I'd hardly call them 'elite.'  I mean no offense, Kenny, but you're still an amateur in terms of combat."  He pushed his glasses up his nose.  "No, the fact that they're not elite is what bothers me.  If they wanted you dead, why not just find one person to put a bullet through your head?  Why ten of them?  And this 'Gabe.'  I know him.  Jeremiah Landis.  What's he doing in all this?"

"How do you know him?" I asked.  He returned with a glare.  His eyes narrowed to slits and his lips curled back into something close to a snarl.

"That information is both confidential and inconsequential," is all he said.  I didn't try broaching the subject again.

"So how did you find me?" I hazarded.

"Like I said, an anonymous tip.  I'm as surprised as you are.  Sure, smashing up a church technically is vandalism, but I get the impression that he called more so that I could find you--which means that whoever it was knows that I was looking for you and knew where you were."  He started speaking less to me and more to the paperwork in his hands as he looked through it.  "Who that might be, I don't know.  My best guess at this point is that they're a member of the Ten Masks who wanted to get their turn.  That might also be why they're not too concerned with killing you at the moment...."

A thought comes to my mind.  "After I left, someone left Chris a note with a thousand dollars."

That stops him.  "Really?  Tell me all you can about that."  I read him the post that he had mentioned it in, focusing on this part:

The strangest thing was that yesterday, I found an envelope at my doorstep. Given my track record with things being left on my doorstep I was kind of hesitant to open it. Once I got up the nerve to do so, I saw that inside was $1000 along with a note:

For your trouble. Thanks for keeping an eye on him.

A friend.

As surprising and confusing as this was, I am certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. So to whoever left me that, thank you.

 

"Well," Canis said, standing up and removing his glasses, "it seems that you have a benefactor of sorts.  It still stands to be seen whether or not they're the same person, but he seems like he's the most likely person at the moment."

"You're sure it's a he?"

"Phone call, male voice.  My informant was certainly male.  Either way, I'd be careful.  Because whether or not they're helping you, you have someone who's been following you without your noticing."

I'm going to start wandering again in a few days, and Canis might come with me for at least a bit while he looks for more leads on the Ten Masks.  As much as I'd love to have the protection of a trained officer with a gun, it won't last for much longer.  All I can do is hope that I can find new allies or stand up to the Ten Masks on my own.

 

Gabe

After my encounter with Magpie, I decided to try to lay low for a while.  Lose myself in the city, then stay on the move, hoping that they wouldn't be able to follow me.

Last night, I decided to spend the night in a church.  Bigger cities usually have at least one church that holds a Saturday evening mass, and even if they lock the doors, they don't have particularly tight security.  I can slip in on a Saturday night and slip out on Sunday morning.  I feel weird, using a religious place like that.  Like, even though I know that I need a place to stay and the church would probably be willing to let me spend the night if they knew about it, there's still some judgmental heavenly eye looking down on me.  Something about it just feels wrong.

After everyone had left, I crept into the sanctuary and sat looking at the architecture.  Stained-glass windows are always so cool, but it's been a long time since I've seen them during the day when they're actually lit up.  At night, they're just dark and murky images.  I looked up at the cross above the pulpit.  It too seemed more threatening than comforting in the dark.  I curled up on a pew and thought.  Is there a god somewhere?  I don't know.  It's hard to say it's impossible while on the run from the supernatural.  At the same time, could the Fears be gods themselves?

I wish I had talked to Lily more about her beliefs on religion.  She said that she was "raised Christian."  I never got much of a solid answer beyond that.  I tried to keep from thinking about it last night, though, because wondering about that leads to wondering whether or not she's in hell now that she's dead.  I don't want to think about that.

I heard footsteps and flattened myself into the pew, gripping my staff tightly.  I hadn't expected anyone to be in the church after this point and didn't want to risk getting caught, even if they might be understanding.  After a bit, I heard a voice.

"Huh.  Fitting.  So bright and cheery during worship.  So euphoric that you could say that the building itself is alive.  You can practically feel the spirit of God around you."  The man was muttering to himself quietly, though every word echoed in the empty sanctuary.  "But when it's empty...." he let out a dry chuckle.  "Look at it.  Just look at that cross.  All these people coming in and worshiping a brutal execution instrument.  Eating a guy's body and drinking his blood."

He fell silent for a moment.  "Could be worse," he muttered.  "Could be Scientology.  Don't you agree, Kenny?"  I froze.  "Come on, I know you're here.  Come on out."  I didn't move.  I heard some more footsteps, then lights flickered on.  "Let's not draw this out, okay?  My little girl's back home.  I need to get back to her before it gets too late.  You can understand that, can't you?"

I slowly stood up, knowing it was useless to run.  The middle-aged man there was probably over six feet tall.  Balding, heavyset and muscular but with a beer belly, dressed in a white wifebeater and jeans.  In his hands he carried a pair of meat mallets.  The spikes on the ends didn't look particularly sharp or long, but with the man's strength and the weight of the hammers, it didn't look like it mattered much.

The man smiled.  "Name's Gabe.  Nice to meet you.  As I'm sure you've guessed, I'm one of the Ten Masks.  Nothing personal, you understand.  It's just business.  It's a steady job that pays well, and I've gotta take care of Janie somehow."

I looked up at Gabe, and even though I'm sure I looked like a cornered squirrel, I still put on a brave face.  "It looks like she'll have to go hungry, then."

Gabe gave a full belly laugh, as if he found my statement more charming than threatening.  "Oh, Kenny.  I'm so sorry, kid.  You're brave, I'll give you that much.  Not a good fighter, but you're definitely brave."  He smiled.  "I'm really sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.  I'll try to make it quick for your sake."

He charged down the aisle at me.  He was a lot quicker than I would have expected from a man his size, but I could already tell that speed was my biggest advantage over him.  That, and my reach.  Even without using the full length of the staff, I had more range than his hammers.  Of course, if he hit me even once, I'd probably be done for.

I jumped back as he swung and the hammer crashed into a pew, sending wooden shrapnel flying.  I watched as carefully as I could as he swung at me again and again.  It was fairly easy to dodge him, since he telegraphed his moves so much.  There was a lot of power behind his swings, but there wasn't much speed.  Overhead or from the side.  He'd swing one of those two ways.  All the while, wooden slivers would go flying at us as the hammers would chip at the pews.

I ducked beneath his arm as he raised it and swung at him from behind with all my strength.  He grunted and coughed as my staff struck his back and knocked the wind out of him, but shrugged it off and turned.  I hadn't planned for him to recover from my maneuver, and he caught me off balance.  I desperately raised Lily to ward off his blow, and managed to clumsily block the mallet.  I felt the wood start to give a bit, as if it was going to break, but it didn't.  Still, it was enough to throw me completely off-guard mentally.  I ended up on the floor with Gabe standing over me.

"That's enough," came a voice from the other end of the sanctuary, echoing around the room.  Gabe looked up and I craned my neck around.  A police officer was standing at the far end of the aisle, gun drawn.

"You..." Gabe whispered.

"I'd leave the boy alone and get out of here if I were you," he said.  "Your choice.  Consequence-free freedom, or death."

Gabe stood there a second before smiling down at me.  "Congrats, kid.  Guess I'll get the chance to see you again, ya lucky bastard."  He stepped away from me and walked past the cop out of the sanctuary.

"What's...what's going on?" I asked as the cop helped me to my feet.  He was a tall, thin man, with a long, very sharp-looking face.  I blinked, trying to get my bearings.  The whole thing had given my mind a bit of whiplash.

"Kenny Mortel?  My name's Edwin Canis.  I've been looking for you."  I tensed up, and I could tell he sensed it.  "Relax, I know your situation here.  I know exactly what you're dealing with, and I want you to know that I'm here to help you.  I've pulled some strings.  You're not listed as a missing person anymore.  I'm also going to be providing safety for you for a short while."  He gave a slight smile.  "You're in good hands for the time being."

"How did you find me?"

"An anonymous tip.  Told me that this church was being vandalized and that I'd want to check this one out personally.  Looks like I got to you right in time."

So instead of a night in the church, Canis let me spend the night at his house.  He's asking me about what exactly I've been through.  Says that I'll have access to some of my parents' money now that I'm 18, but I think I'm going to save it for emergencies.  Basically, Canis is going to help me get back on my feet.

But I'm still worried.  Gabe found me so easily last night.  Who knows when he or Magpie will be back, or when the rest of the Ten Masks will show up?

Eighteen

It's my birthday today.  I'm 18 years old, which means I'm now a legal adult.

I guess that means I'm allowed to continue doing what I've been doing.  I could open a checking account.  Save up some cash.

But I think I'm still a missing person, so I don't think I want to risk it.

Happy birthday to me.