The stench of rot, fills my nose, clenches the back of my throat...
A howl...
More like a shriek, or a scream...
Calling...?
I locked the door. I locked the door. I need more locks. There is no such thing as enough locks.
My windows crumble.
I hear it moving. Creeping. Lurking. Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Always there -- always there -- ... always ...
Scraping against the windows, against the ground, against the walls of my very existence...
The floor disappears.
Yet before I fall, everything that's happening, supposed to happen, was going to happen, yet never happened at all...
And I...
--My dear Zampano, what have you lost...?
----mother...
Why did God create a dual universe? So he might say, "Be not like me. I am alone."
Known some call is air am.
It is dark, and it is damp, and the reality around me shudders and heaves as if breathing, as if alive.
Nothing can stop it.
The house.
The house.
The house.
It is immortal. It is everlasting. It consumed, consumes, is consuming.
Everything.
A paradox of existence, not even supposed to exist, and yet...
I'm here.
I'm here.
In the house. The house.
And Lude's dead...Clara English...Whatever happened to Clara...Thumper...Elena...Reno. Hojo.
Facsimiles.
But why?
A terrible thought could have a terribly long career.
Careening.
Careening.
Closer.
Just out of sight, now -- over your shoulder, beyond the corners of the screen, where I can't see it, where you can't see it -- waiting, waiting, and when I know I should be running, I'm not running, and it's here, it's claws -- or are those fangs...
jugular...
and then...
and then...
I...
- Mood:
anxious
to those who grieve
when thoughts keep drifting
as walls keep shifting
and this great blue world of ours
seems a house of leaves
moments before the wind.
...
I can't sleep.
Not surprised.
- Mood:
sleepy
Anyways. Elena. I thought of a list of some things I'd like next time you're over.
-Candles and/or firewood
-Booze
-Some string and some bells if possible
-Measuring tape. Also, if possible.
I swear I'm forgetting something, now.
...Did anyone else hear that thing though...?
I knew it was here.
Now it is only a matter of time.
- Mood: scared
- Mood: D:
- Music:Poe -- Dear Johnny.
...There are strange things in the darkness.
Although I can't say I should be surprised.
The fact that there are computers here, is well, ... crazy ... but, since this place really shouldn't exist in the first place ...
Perhaps conjured up by the house to taunt me?
...There seems to be traces of people. Real or delusion remains to be seen.
In an effort to keep myself calm
Thankfully, I have also found lengths of fabric I can approximate to marking by the inch, and pinning down to the walls and floors.
I wish I had some duck tape.
...Or you know, a gun.
Not that it helped Holloway any.
- Mood:
uncomfortable
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5andahalfminute- Johnny Truant