Tuesday, August 30, 2011

posting again

I haven't been writing my own blog for a while. I've had others to take care of, and some fieldwork, and a couple other things that I don't really want to talk about. Or can talk about. I'm breaking a lot of rules right now, but there are some things that I can't go against.

Strange. I think I just heard a bell ring.

Screwtape's been a big help with the blogs, though he's always watching for me to mess up somehow. He's certain that eventually this will happen. I think he doesn't trust me. Trackers shouldn't blog. I don't think I can be who I'm supposed to be though. I try, but It's hard to figure out a careful balance.

Ringing again. I don't know where it's coming from.

Screwtape does do his job well though, despite the fact that he hates me. I guess anyone who reads the Messenger's blog knows why now.

You see, I used to be a runner.

A lot of things happened, and I'm not anymore. Screwtape is a very interesting guy. Having to work with him has shown me that. He's of the type that believes that, well you know who, is a god of some sort. Back when I lived with him I actually saw him pray. One of Screwtape's beliefs is that... well, that you know who will take care of people like me. That we all deserve to be husks. It's difficult to work here sometimes. Messi is the only one who really seems to even like me. It's hard without Caper.

And on top of Screwtape, my past is coming back all of a sudden. After Messi put up the interview, a guy named Donovan commented, telling us that he had talked about Annabel in a post shortly before the interview. He accused Messi of using this as some sort of mind game.

It isn't. It's me Don. I'm sorry.

I was tracking him, trying to keep him safe by saying that he'd lead us to more runners. I don't know why. I thought he had left me at the hotel. He says he didn't, but that's what I thought. I wanted to help him anyway. He was nice, and he told me about M's rules not working. I felt like I owed him something.

Except then he said he was going to be more careful about what he put up about other runners. Then he talked about me. Screwtape wants to go after him now.

I'm so sorry Don.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

New roomates and long talks

I don't understand The Messenger. I don't understand him at all.

We are rooming together now, and it looks likely that this will be a permanent arrangement. Screwtape and I will still be working together, but I no longer have to live with him. I'm rather glad of this. He is an intense person, and even if he didn't hate me I don't think that I could stand him for long periods of time.

His method for tracking is vastly different from what Caper and I did. Screwtape is a firm believer in smoking the enemy out. I did my own research on him, and looked at some of the work he's done. Once he had narrowed down a runner's location to one of three distinct areas. So he had some agents burn down a school, a library, and a government building, each fire in one of the areas. He waited to see which fire the runner blogged about and from that knew exactly where he was.

It isn't exactly a bad way of doing things, and it certainly is faster. It does take up more resources though, and it's harder pretend that you're not doing any harm. I just betray people I've never met. I don't tell people to burn down elementary schools.

I guess I don't have to worry about it anymore, since I'm rooming with Messi now. However, I'm no longer sure whether that's a great idea either.

Once again, I really don't understand him.

We had a talk the other day about a lot of stuff. Living arrangements, getting attached to people, betrayal, befriending runners, safety, death, really standard agent topics. He got mad at me for becoming friends with a runner. I got mad at him for implying that if he had the opportunity he's sell them all out. He even dared to pull Caper into it.

Then he told me that he liked me.

What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that? I'm really not that used to people caring. Caper was the only one really, and his death almost destroyed me. The Messenger has already admitted that under certain circumstances he could betray people? I know most people can and will, but I'm not sure how to feel about the fact that he's open about it. I also don't know how to feel about the fact that we might be... I don't know, friends? I really can't afford friends. I'm being stupid again. I can't help it, though.

Monday, July 25, 2011


I never thought of myself as the type to break rules. I was always the girl in the front left corner of the classroom, the good girl that never did anything wrong. I have always found a sort of comfort in the status quo. It helped me know what I was doing and what was expected of me. Until lately, when I seem to be breaking every rule that I think I can get away with.

I made friends with a runner.

He emailed me around my second post or so, and against my better judgement I wrote him back. There was something kind about him, which is not a trait I find a lot being a tracker. We started exchanging letters more and more often, until we were given an opportunity to meet in real life.

I won't talk about where we met or what happened. It was nice, but it was at a rather well publicized event and I wasn't actually supposed to be there. It was one more rule I was breaking. What happened when I met him isn't even the point, really. The point is that he's dead. Our side killed him.

I think that to a certain point, not being friends with runners is for our own well being. It's difficult enough to know that I'm indirectly killing someone. Knowing that me or people I know have killed a friend is torture. In response to all this, I did something sort of stupid. I went over to Messi's and asked him if I could stay the night.

I hate being as dependent as I am. I can't be alone, no matter how many times people die or are killed or betray me. Yet the minute a friend of mine dies, the first thing I do is go find someone. I felt terrible about it, and about bothering him and about overall needing him that much. I still don't want to leave this apartment because the world seems just so big and empty and terrifying. I can't be alone right now.

At least Messi seems like a pretty nice guy.

Friday, July 15, 2011

My new partner

It seems that Jacob is pretty good at what he does. I requested a new partner only a few days ago, and this afternoon I got one. I'm not particularly happy with it, but I was told quite clearly that any requests to change would be ignored. At least I don't have to run all these blogs by myself. I need to focus on the positive things, otherwise I will be stuck with this noise in my head repeating over and over.

He came in about three or so, carrying a suitcase in one hand and a cloth covered cage in the other. He's a big man, actually. It seems like he would be much better off hunting down runners than tracking them down with me. I am not very big in general, but I feel like a child when I stand next to him.

He placed the suitcase on a table and gently put the cage on top of it. After that, he looked to me. "Poe I suppose?" he asked, and I nodded. I can't say why I was afraid to speak. Aside from his size, he is unassuming enough. There is nothing incredibly strange or menacing about him. Something about him just put me on edge. It might have been his smile. The whole time he talked to me, he never stopped smiling. There was something unnerving about it. "I am Screwtape." he told me, "I'm to be your new partner."

He took the cloth off of the cage, and I looked inside. A raven sat there. It didn't look particularly happy, but it wasn't trying to get out of the cage either. It just sat there staring at me for a moment. I stared back at it. I might have stared longer if Screwtape hadn't spoken again. "So I heard you have started your own blog?" he asked, and I was too distracted to lie. I nodded, and stumbled around explanations before he stopped me. "I hope you know that is forbidden. A tracker with a blog can have some very nasty repurcussions. But we have time to talk about that later." he answered, and opened the door to the cage.

The raven hopped back a little, but after a moment of caution poked it's head out and looked directly at Screwtape. He offered the bird some food, which it took before flying off to the various corners of the room in search of an exit. After not being able to find one, he landed on top of my bookshelf and glared at us. With the raven no longer paying attention to him, Screwtape focused his attention back to me. "I hope you don't mind that I looked into you a little bit before I got here." he told me, "It is always good to know who exactly you're working with. You have quite an interesting history." I swallowed a bit, but didn't say anything. I'm not sure I said anything during the entire exchange. The whole situation made me a little uneasy, and I'm not particularly great at talking in general. I just nodded my head, occasionally looked at the new bird, and tried not to pass out.

After a few minutes of what I can only assume was him waiting for me to speak, Screwtape looked over at the raven as well. "Beautiful birds aren't they?" he asked, and held out a hand full of food. The raven flew down next to him and didn't fly off afterwards. Screwtape started stroking the bird with his free hand as the raven ate. "Delicate. Intelligent. And yet so fragile." he continued, and my eyes were barely fast enough to catch his hand find the creature's neck and twist.

The sound of cracking bones isn't something you forget, even if your memory isn't as good as mine. I have heard the sound a few too many times. I heard it the night Caper died. I remember going up to him and hearing that sound as Caper tried to sit up. Then he coughed a bit and tried to make a joke, as if it wasn't a big deal. I know too well what death sounds like, though. In that one moment when one man twisted an innocent bird's neck, I heard all the death and all the pain that I have witnessed these past six months. I also took it as the threat that it was.

Screwtape wasn't done talking. He likes to talk. In the few hours I've known him, I have discovered that. "I want to make one thing clear. I don't like you. I don't like how you came to us, or what you have done since.You are an embarrassment to Father and should be either dead or a mindless slave like the others who defy his will. Yet here you are, alive and with your own identity. If I could, I would kill you now. But until then-"

He never finished his sentence. He just placed the dead bird in front of me and took his suitcase out from under the now empty cage. "I look forward to working with you, Raven" he told me.

I can't get the sounds of that animal out of my head.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

A slightly better introduction

I am currently trying to explain who I am to those who don't know already. I'm finding it to be rather difficult. I have always had issues trying to figure out where to begin. I should start at the beginning of course, but I have trouble figuring out exactly where that is. So I babble and rant and ultimately don't make anything clear. I'm going to try to introduce myself again, hopefully with better results.

My name is Poe, I work for a monster.

Why I work for him is a long complicated matter that I don't really want to get into right now, but for the past six months I have been reading the blogs of his victims and pinpointing their location. It's interesting work, and I feel terrible that sometimes I enjoy it. I do not like who I work for, but that is sort of irrelevant. I work for him anyway.

My boss is called The Slender Man. I feel nervous about saying his name, so please forgive me if I never say it again. He scares me, and the farther I put him from my mind the happier I am.

I like classic literature and anime. I am not really a fan of shonen, and really like shows with good character development and dark themes. I used to watch Yu-Gi-Oh when I was younger, though I am sort of embarrassed about that. The abridged series was pretty good. I can't watch it anymore though. It's sort of funny what brings back unpleasant experiences.

I've mentioned my partner Caper a few times. He was the closest thing I had to a friend here. He helped me through a very tough time. We lived together. He was also incredibly easy to work with. He saved a child from, well you know who, and he personally showed up to kill him. I watched the whole thing.

I feel overwhelmed as well as lost and broken. I have had to take over all of his blogs, and I can't split the field work between two people. As much as I feel like I'm betraying Caper, I asked Jacob to give me another partner. I'd like to think that he'd understand, and that he knows how I felt about him. But it still feels wrong.

I had a dream about him the other day. He told me that I needed to live without him now, and that I was strong enough to do it. Then before he left, he leaned over and whispered his real name.

I wish I could remember it.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Caper's Last Tale

I mentioned my partner Caper in the last post. I worked with him for half a year, and he was probably the only good thing that's come of all this. He was my constant. So I want something to remember him by. Something that I can come back and look at and say 'that was Caper'. This is the best I could come up with:

Caper was born Jerome Herwitzmeyer. His father was an alcoholic, and at the age of fifteen he ran away and took to the streets. He tried begging at first, but he never seemed to get much money at it. He never managed to get very good at stealing. So one day he was fishing for food in the back of a McDonald's when he saw a little girl who was crying. Jerome went up to her, and told a joke to try and calm her down. It worked. The girl stopped crying and actually laughed a little. After a few more jokes, he found out that the girl was lost and he helped her find her parents.

After that, Jerome had a brilliant idea. He stood himself outside of a metro entrance, and he began to tell jokes. At first he wasn't particularly funny, but he spent time perfecting his art. Soon, more and more people started stopping to listen to the homeless comedian. He got enough money to eat well enough, and he just kept on working on his material until one day without realizing it, he became the funniest man in the Universe.

Although Jerome didn't realize how funny he was, others had. In the far corners of the galaxy, there was a race of aliens that ran an interstellar comedy club. The problem was, their jokes weren't actually funny. No one was coming to the club and the aliens were slowly going destitute. So they scoured the galaxy and finally found Jerome.

One day he woke up and found himself tied down. He looked around, and saw these beastly creatures running around with tools that he didn't recognize. One of the things took an oddly shaped instrument and put it in a... a very uncomfortable place. Suddenly, he felt a sucking sensation. And then he realized that he was feeling less funny. The aliens were stealing all of his humor.

About halfway through the process, all of the lights in the bright room went out. Jerome heard odd noises but was still tied down. The lights came back on, and the room he was in was somehow a dark green. Bodies of the creatures were everywhere, and right in front of Jerome was a man without a face wearing a business suit. He held out his hand, and the restraints untied themselves.

Since then, Jerome became Caper. He worked for this man. His partner was a girl who suffered from amnesia. He helped her create a new life and together they became the best agents the world had ever seen. Also, they had a pet velociraptor. Until one day, he was instructed to kill a woman. He got to the place where she was supposed to be, when he realized that it was the girl he had helped out so many years ago. So Caper left the girl, bought a flamethrower, and confronted the man that he had worked for.

The battle lasted for three days, and several buildings were leveled in the process. However, Caper was victorious. With a final yell, he burned the tall man to bits. However, his former boss had expected one day that Caper would turn against him. He had installed a chip in his heart years ago, and activated it with his dying breath. Once activated, the chip would explode ten minutes later and take out the city. So Caper knew what he had to do. He went to the harbor and prepared to jump in and save countless innocent lives. Before he did, despite having only half his humor, he turned to his partner and told the greatest joke of all time.

I can't believe I just wrote that.

Saturday, July 2, 2011


I have written a lot of blogs. I have read even more of them. Blogs have sort of been my life for six months or so. Yet today is the first day that I have ever blogged as myself. It is strange to be this honest on the internet. I know some people see blogs as a safe place to tell the truth, but all I've ever done here is lie. On the internet, you can be anyone and others will trust you as long as you're convincing enough. I've been told I'm very convincing.

I'm Poe. That's not an internet handle. That's the closest thing I have to a name nowadays. Sometimes I think it's a bit of a silly name, but it's one of the few things that are mine. We're not supposed to have real blogs. Trackers, I mean. We're supposed to be the people working behind the scenes, making sure things go according to plan without anyone else realizing our existence.

But sometimes things go wrong. That's why I am breaking this one rule. I had a partner. His name was Caper, and he died a couple days ago. I held his hand as he did. Now, I'm a little lost. He had done so much for me. Now he's gone there is just this void where he used to be that keeps on sucking up every positive emotion I have.

The point of all this is that I need somewhere to hold on to what identity I have left, to vent my feelings out somewhere, and to leave behind something when I'm gone. I don't want to die. But I can't continue deluding myself any further. None of us are safe.

I'm giving the account information to Caper's friend The Messenger so that when I die, he will report it. Why that matters so much to me I'm not quite sure. However, it's enough of a desire that I am willing to take this tremendous risk of posting about myself.

I just realized that this post doesn't really make any sense if you don't know me or what I'm going through or who I work for. I'm really sorry for that. And I'll try to explain things later on. But my partner just died. I believe that gives me a little justification to rambling on like I am. I don't know if many people will find this blog. Or if they'll care if they do. But leaving anything behind gives me a bit of comfort somehow. So it's what I'm going to do.

Friday, July 1, 2011

It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of Annabel Lee--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
  I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me--
Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we--
  Of many far wiser than we--
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:
And so, all the night-tide, I lay down by the side
Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride,
  In the sepulchre there by the sea--
  In her tomb by the sounding sea.