Friday, November 29, 2013

Right. So. We lied.

Guess I should have updated this sooner than just now cause I was SUPPOSED to tell you about Banks, but... well. Shit happens. Especially in this line of work. Especially when you could start a traveling sideshow with the kind of company you keep. But anyway. I shouldn't bitch. They're good people. Just fucked up, and really, aren't we all more than a bit fucked up? These people just let it overflow to the outside instead of letting it bubble up inside...

But right. David Banks then...

I knew he'd be one of the more... difficult obstacles in my way. Cypher and the others knew it just as much. After all, with how much, CYPHER hated the Dress-Up Plan, we could assume that Banks would be just as livid at someone else impersonating Nightscream. For a bit, I think I NEARLY convinced him... then I successfully ruined that during ONE BAD NIGHT after I had encountered that stupid NEST thing... crazy fuck still gives me nightmares...

Cypher was trying his best to stay involved and "between" any association and chats between Banks and I. Trying his best to work with whatever material I managed to give him. I won't lie and say I was GOOD at being Nightscream. In fact, I'd say I was damn horrible at it. Sure, I got the hang of the speech after a while and I'm learning how to type forever-posts... but it still wasn't right. Wasn't GOOD ENOUGH. And, eventually, Banks got sick of my attempts and tracked me down. I was stupid enough to be out for a WALK of all things (I like walks. Sue me.), but even with Tiger as my protection, I still got snatched. I really don't remember much about that. Just the taser hitting me. The current. And then I kinda drifted in and out. I remember being tied up at one point. Memory is a damn crap shoot, but I THINK I was in the trunk of a car.

When I finally DID come to, I wasn't tied anymore. And I wasn't in anything that was moving. I was just... left lying sprawled out on a floor. A cold, concrete, basement floor. Made my joints feel like CEMENT when I first tried to move. Pushing myself partly up as all my muscles complained at being forced back to their jobs again. Back cracking. Knees. Made me feel old as shit.


I jerked up. A mistake that I instantly regretted as all that ache in my muscles just burned more. Still, I didn't let myself be distracted. Trying to blink my vision into adjusting behind the mask I still wore, I eventually managed to locate my only company: A shadow sitting in the dark at the other side of the room. Even though the voice had sounded calm, there was still an edge to it. A warning of a very present danger. A cliff's edge.

I was 99% sure I knew who it belonged to.

And if I was right... there was going to be WAR.

Of course, my first demand was to know where the HELL I was. Which only spurred Banks to invite me to guess. Saying how he'd be interested to hear if I could. Of course, I would have rathered be DEAD than play his game, so I just swapped my demand. Asking where Tiger was. What he'd DONE with him. After all, I did like the Samurai. He had honor, if nothing else. And he was one of the few that I was around all the time. Him and Mumbles. Like the mime and me, Tiger and I tended to talk a lot.... though Tiger was always more stand-off-ish. In any case, if BANKS had done something to Tiger, that just gave me another reason to put a hole into his head. As if I didn't have enough reasons already.

"Tiger's fine. You might not be up on everything, 
but I'm cutting down on my unneeded murder count."

"Yet another box checked under the title of Thankless Saint, Banks
How charitable of you. 
Taking your jacket right off your back to give to a homeless man
 and nursing broken birds back to health too, I expect?"

"...How did you... oh. Sarcasm."

"You know what, FUCK YOU!"

I'd crossed half the distance of the dark room before I even realized it. I could HEAR my blood pumping in my ears and I could FEEL my fists shaking at my sides. Yelling at him, in probably what wasn't my smartest moment. Telling him how I knew what he was. What he did. And that he wasn't fooling ANYONE with that goddamn ACT of his. The whole "I've changed and I want to be better" routine. That I sure as hell didn't believe it for one FUCKING SECOND so he could shove it all up his ass and tuck it around the corner.

That shadow of a man stood. Movements slow and controlled, but wound tight like a spring as he came closer. Nearly circling.

"I could say the same for you."

And, in one fluid motion he ripped off my hood and mask. I tried ducking low and sweeping to the side, but it came off all the same. Sam and I may have similar builds, but other than that, our hair and eyes... even the shape of our faces were different. Sam having auburn hair and silver eyes. Me with blonde and blue. As if he even HAD to rip the mask off though. I guess he'd just been making a point. Sick of staring at a bad joke of someone he once knew...

I just snarled at him.

 "You're not ruining this, do you HEAR ME? 
I will not LET you RUIN this! 
It's the one thing I CAN do; since you let Sam DIE, it's the ONLY thing I can do!"

He finally stopped. Looking a bit more puzzled, but held tight behind a determined eye.

"...I should know you, shouldn't I? 
This isn't an act of opportunity.  Sam meant something to you.

 Suppose I won't need the nipple clamps then."

All I could feel... was the heat. The boil. The SCREAMING ANGER that I was barely keeping hold on.

"I don't give a FUCK if you know me or not!
None of this has ANYTHING to do with you anymore. 
You had your chance and you SCREWED IT UP... 
unless, of course, you were just clearing out one used up pet so you could get another. 
Then I guess the only screw up you did was showing your face to ME!"

And I let all that BOILING... out in one single, nasty hook to his jaw. Slicing across it with the blade I'd triggered above my knuckles. He hadn't bothered dodging it, which is why he had to sidestep to subtly catch his balance. I guess he hadn't thought I'd pack that much of a punch. But of course he retaliated. There was only a pause that the blood from the gash began running down his cheek and throat... and then he grew tired of being calm, I guess. Taking a swing at me. Fast and precise. My own anger had put me in FAR too close to him, but I still managed to mostly dodge the first punch. Barely getting clipped by it. The second, because of my messy retreat, dropped like a hammer. It would have sent me onto my back, if there hadn't been a shelving unit there. Digging into my back, catching me even as I cringed. Shaking my head clear.

There's a snarl in David's voice when I heard him next.

"Do I really need to mention that I'm being nice?
You know full well what I could do to you. 
What I want to do to you. 
But instead of being grateful for the fluke of events 
that's lead to me not leaving your body on the side of the road, 
you insult one of the few genuine things I have ever done. 
I don't care who you are, no one does that.

So shut up. Or I'll stop talking."

"You rape the love of my life and then watch it commit suicide...
and you want me to be GRA----TEFUL?!
And don't give me ANY fucking BULLSHIT about goddamn CONSENT. 
There WAS no FUCKING consent 
so you can just GO TO FUCKING HELL!!"

For a brief moment... he just stared at me. Wide eyed. Stunned.


Then there was a blink, and his entire demeanor changed. Shifted. Looking at me with fresh eyes. Nearly hesitant. Unsure. As if he'd crossed a line somewhere and hadn't even realized it. Then, slowly, he took out his switchblade... and placed it down on the floor.

"I didn't rape him. 
I barely touched him after that one time. 
Obviously he was in no state to give consent, but I never slept with him. Not once. 
You don't have to believe me. But I didn't. And I wouldn't. 
Even monsters have standards, though most see them as arbitrary. 
I imagine you know that. 

That was a hell of a punch. 
Law enforcement background? You have a stance like you do.
I don't know whether or not Sam mentioned that. 
I... I had trouble getting through some of his posts."

"Heh. Sam never mentioned... much... about me, did it?

Special Agent Alex Prescott, FBI, Banks. 
Least I was, back when SHIT made sense. 
Luckily though... some of that is still useful. 
Like profiling fuckers like you. 
Like knowing... KNOWING the kind that stop. 
And the kind that... don't. That never would. 
That NEVER DO unless someone STOPS them. 
Unless bullet or blade or CAGE stops them....

I knew about you LONG before Slender Man ever came around, Banks.
We had FILES on the bullshit - the slaughters and rapes - you left behind you.
I spent MANY years imagining what it would be like when we took you out.
What you'd really look like. Sound like.
Never figured I'd wind up just another play thing for you.
Another file to add to the stack.

That was why you brought me down here, right?
To torture me? SKIN me? Rape me?
You're a SICK FUCK, Banks.
And it churns my stomach to think of you even laying
You had no right.
Sam was BETTER than you.
Better than MOST.
And you...

What did you tell Sam at the end?
When it was too broken to fight anymore and you took it in?
Did you... did you say it would FEEL BETTER from it?
Did you claim you were HELPING?
Whispering everything you FUCKERS do to make your victims
explain away all the pain and SICKNESS they feel inside?
How far did you push it, Banks?
How MUCH did you TAKE from MY SAM?!!

...I gotta admit, though...
You have good foresight, if nothing else. 
Taking my weapon. 
 My Glock.

You'd look good with a hole between your eyes. 

The only FIX for people like you."

Silence stretched for a very long minute as I watched the rage BOIL through David's system... and as he shifted, I straightened. Thinking that, if he wanted to level a punch or two further at me, then like HELL I was going to be knocked DOWN by them... but he pivoted instead. And cracked his fist against the wall. Then he punched it a second time, then a third. Then one more time after that. Until that boil came down to a simmer.

"I'll have to keep you a couple days. Figure out a way to keep you out of this."

 "Like HELL.
I told you this has NOTHING to do with you, Banks. 
You think just because you directed your punches at a damn wall instead of my jaw, 
that you've PROVEN something? That you have ANY kind of power over anything here? 
You don't get to CONTROL me like you controlled Sam. 
Even as we STAND HERE death-glaring each other, Cypher is tracking me down. 
And he's going to be even worse 'company' than ME when he gets here.
 So do yourself a favor... and get lost."

"Why is Cypher helping you?!
He of all people has to know how Sam would feel about this." 

Like a Hurricane meeting a Tornado. David was furious. I wasn't much better. It was taking everything IN ME not to turn the argument physical. My hands clenched so tight with the effort that I could FEEL them shaking.

"Of course he KNOWS!
 And so do /I/. 
But SAM isn't HERE anymore. 
Sam was BARELY here at all after that Red-FUCK got done with it.
 See. I may hate your guts, Banks. 
I may be standing here HOPING I get a chance one day
 to put you down like the rabid dog that you are. 
But that Red BITCH is worse. 
Ten million times WORSE. 
Sam was BEYOND obliterated and I will. Not. Walk. Away. From. THAT. 
Not all of us are willing to just sit on the sidelines and WATCH the world burn, BANKS. 
Not all of us can FORGIVE AND FORGET what that FUCKER did to Sam. 
And if I can use this little ACT 
to flush that bastard out so Cypher can have the chance he needs to END this... 
then I'm damn well going to DO IT.
 I'm the bait. 
Cypher's the trap. 
End of story."

"Then he's just going to find some different bait isn't he?"

"Oh yeah? WHO?"

"...I could do it. 
It's not quite as evocative as Sam, but it would do the trick."

  "HA! That's rich.
 All you've been doing for MONTHS is HIDE,
 and NOW you want to actually get off your ass and do something? Why?"

 "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

I just crossed my arms. Flat-out telling him that he was deluding himself. That it would never work. Pointing out that even Sam had said that Red-Fuck was ruled by his own emotions, his own pride and RAGE. Explaining that THAT was what we were targeting with all this. THAT was the sweet spot - the one thing that could set off the asshole's fuse - and it was something that ONLY the image of 'Nightscream' would be able to get to this quickly. Ripping into that feeling of FAILURE and letting Red-Fuck work himself up into a frenzy. He had done EVERYTHING he could to destroy Sam in ways that I sure as Hell can't even begin to imagine...

and I intended to make him believe that HIS WORST just wasn't GOOD ENOUGH. That Sam CONQUERED it. Rose OVER it. And was coming back to KICK some arrogant ass. I intended to make him ENRAGED. To throw caution and reason away so that he could manifest... and it could all be over. Sam would have JUSTICE, which was a small token, really, at the end of so much suffering...

It's all I can do.

And I sure as HELL wasn't going to let BANKS get in my way. 

Pointing out that all Redlight ever did to HIM was to abandon his loyalty. Not exactly something he could fail at.

But Banks, the arrogant ass, wasn't having any of it.

"Then find someone else to be Nightscream. 
There are plenty of people with his build.
 And it's not like they could impersonate him any worse."

"That's not an option."

"You doing it isn't an option either.
You're throwing away ALL of his sacrifices."

"...So I should throw some OTHER poor idiot into the line of fire instead, right?
This was my idea. 
If shit goes wrong and Red-Fuck figures out he was coned 
before Cypher can do his thing... 
the BEST outcome is a quick death. 
Rips out my heart or something. 
But at worst...

...No. I'm not going to subject someone else to that. 
My plan. My pain, if it happens that way. 
Sam has already suffered WAY too much for my sake...
I'm not going to make someone else suffer for me too."

"...Sam will come back from the dead and kill me if I let you."

"...You're really just giving me more reasons to go through with this."

Surprisingly... he chuckled at that. Looking at me with an odd expression that I couldn't quite place before he looked down to his switchblade on the floor... and kicked it over to me with the toe of his boot. Posture nearly relaxed. Nearly. Carefully, I bent and picked it up. Never taking my eyes off of him. Expecting the trap. But I straightened with it, and he still hadn't moved. Just watching me.

"Not a glock, but it will do in a pinch. 
If I have to die... I'd rather it be with that. 
But you should know... that you're wrong about me.  At least, partially.
Because something did stop me."

"And what was THAT?"

Really was NOT in the mood for his games anymore.

  "Earlier, you said something around the lines of 'back when the world made sense'.
An understandable sentiment. 
Most people would assume it was because of the death 
and the otherworldly entities. 
But for reasons that are probably more me than you, I don't think so. 
Faceless men? Weird. Difficult. But you could deal with it. 
But with him gone... the world loses all meaning. 
Sometimes it feels like not even gravity works the same any more. 
Tell me Alex, of the people you've profiled, how many were married? 
Take that number and I imagine that you could find some good reasons why they did. 
Power, a good cover, money. 
Now tell me. 
Why did I marry Ronan?"


When a serial killer is as successful as you. As good as you. 
They tend to do one of three things. 
Start killing more often, and eventually trip up and get caught. 
Perform a finale.
 Something huge as, usually, a suicide mission. 
While leaving enough proof behind to prove he was responsible for everything. 
Or, in your case... pass down the baton. Make a chain. 
Create a Legacy. 
Hardest option to pull off. 
Gotta give you credit for that. 
Marriage is good for trust building. 

After that, it's only time."

He nearly lost his composure at that. Expression contorting in rage for a brief second before he latched the reins back on. Taking a breath. Calming down again.

"Ronan's an unconventional choice, don't you think? 
Hardly a serial killer type. Not saying he wasn't capable, because he was. 
But... well his work ethic was off. 
He'd hardly enjoy it, and to be perfectly honest 
I'd never been able to convince him of something he didn't already want.
 Plus, he was just as old as me. Weight's beginning to be an issue. 
He was attempting to become sober, 
but there were still nights where he couldn't see straight. 
I have a lot of young things I have a decent control over. 
Lots of potential. Lots of blank space. 
Why Ronan?"

"So what's the alternative then? 
You fell in love and saw the error in your ways, 
so you decided to become a shining, smiling prince? 
This isn't Beauty and the Fucking Beast.
Don't forget, Banks, I've seen your work up-close and personal.
I know your record like the back of my hand.
Least for the shit we managed to FIND OUT about.
People like you don't change. 
They don't. 
It's a snake pit. 
You fall in. You get bit.
 There's no climbing out..."

"You talk about me as if I'm not human. 
As if I am not full of flaws and inconsistencies. 
As if I am so wonderfully sure in my ways that I never have need of doubt. 
And even if that were true. 
Even if I was so unchangeable... I died with Ronan. 
She might as well have shot me in the head too, 
because the world was upended in that moment. 
Do you understand that? 
Because I think you're the only one who can."

I stared straight back at him. My glare feeling more like a frown as everything tossed and turned inside my head. My own logic wasn't adding up to a perfect picture in my head. Besides... I didn't really believe my own accusations. Oh, I wanted to. But I couldn't. Not deep down. Not without being the biggest hypocrite on the damn planet. I knew people changed. Most didn't WANT to... but they could. If they made the choice to. Sam, after all, changed from a Samaritan to being one of the most brutal, cruel, ruthless serial killers I'd ever known... going so far as to go one so poetically about the BEAUTY of killing... of murder...

And even me. I fought took and nail to get out of the Family Business back in Detroit. I actually had to take refuge with an uncle of mine out in New Jersey just to get AWAY from it. Which only brought Hell on his house, but my uncle was a honest to God GOOD MAN... and I was a kid. So he stood up for me. And was beaten to the last inches of his life. His eyes couldn't even OPEN anymore, they were so black and purple and swollen. They left him to die from internal bleeding - dragging me out the door by my hair. I can still kinda remembered what he sounded like...  when he was trying to say my name amongst a mouthful of blood and teeth.

That was when I chose... to go against everything I'd been raised in.

There's always a choice...

"...Tell me the truth, Banks. I deserve the truth.
 I loved Sam. And, despite everything it did... I still love it even now. 
The fact I was TOO DAMN SLOW getting out. That if I had just... gotten to it. 
Maybe things would have been...

I could HEAR Sam screaming with every word on that damn blog. 
Nothing it wrote after Red-Fuck was ever without agony. 
You had to have---
...I deserve to know what happened between you two. 
I NEED to know the truth. Whatever it is. 
If you..."

I clenched my jaw. Unwilling to say anymore.

"...You say you've seen my files."

David got... eerily calm at that point. Walking up to me before lifting a hand. Tilting my chin up. Voice barely a whisper. Almost sounding... sympathetic. 

"Then you would know that I'm not a liar.
A year ago, not only would I have done it,
I would have stood here in front of you and bragged about it.
I would tell you every single detail, knowing that while it tore you apart inside,
you wouldn't be able to stop listening. 
But that was a year ago.
Not even monsters can stay the same in the world, even if they try. 
Things push and pull until everything is unrecognizable. 
I did have thoughts. 
I'll admit that to you. 
Though they were far more based in sentimentality than you might expect.
 But I never touched him. Never. 
Sam's account was pretty accurate, minus some personal moments. 
But again, nothing happened. 
That's the truth."

I listened.

I listened until he was done... and, even as I swatted his hand away, I believed him. I didn't say it. I didn't apologize for accusing him. Or hitting him. I didn't WANT to believe him... but I did. My glare hitting the wall instead. The floor. The ceiling. Anywhere but at him. The minutes dragging out, but it wasn't really all that uncomfortable a silence. More as if... letting things settle.

Except... there was one other thing that I needed to know... even though it tore my heart apart to say it.

"...How did Sam do it?"

  "...Slit his wrists in the bathtub. 
Quick, painless, and thorough...
He made absolute certain he'd be dead before I could get there.
I burned the body."

I felt that BOIL begin around. That ITCH that gets going under my skin... so I started pacing. It was the only thing I could do to try to get rid of the tension - the desire to HIT something... only it didn't work this time. Though I settled for the wall as a target. Damn near shattered my knuckles, but I barely felt it. Already on a rant. Half yelling. Half grieving. I went on about how it was an oxy-damn-moron. Sam committing suicide. People like SAM don't commit suicide - they're the ones that go on rants for HOURS about how there's ALWAYS a rope if you're willing to grab it. That there's ALWAYS a light at the end of the tunnel. That things get BETTER if you give them the chance to. Sam used to act as a part-time guidance councilor at its school because the kids preferred talking to IT rather than someone who barely gave a damn behind a desk. I can't count the number of times it came home all worked up because this kid was cutting or that kid was withdrawing from everything...

Sam cared. Sam thought life was WORTH sticking through, through good and bad. Used to call it a roller coaster. Throwing the coaster off the track wasn't an option. You rode it out. Sometimes it was fun. Sometimes it was scary. But you're strapped in for the ride, so you might as well throw your arms into the air.

"...Sam wasn't that type. It never gave up. 
Not with anything. Or on anybody... 
That Red-Fuck needs to suffer. And Die. 
No one does this to my family. 

"Well we're agreed on one thing.
If I let you out, if I help you on this, you better make him suffer. 
For all of us."

"...If you help me sell this, I will.
Help me sell this, Banks. 
And we'll take that son of a bitch DOWN."

"Then I suppose I was surprised to find Sam underneath that hood."

"...Yeah. I guess you were."

We talked for a while after that. Turned out he had me down in a basement in the middle of nowhere in Ohio. The very same building that Banks himself was taken to as a kid and held captive there for eight years. The very same building that the local authorities found the skinned remains of one "Mr. Dubois". It was abandoned and well off the beaten trail... but I knew Cypher would find it soon enough. Even if he had to call in to his 'Dad' for the info. And, once that maniac burst through the front door.... I knew he'd be more likely to eat Banks' kidneys than stop and listen for a moment. So I told Banks it would probably be better for him to leave completely and come back around later, least until Cypher found me in one piece. He's nearly creepily possessive, but that has to do with Sam, not me. I guess he figures I'm his responsibility or some bullshit like that. In any case, he would be more willing to listen first and shoot later if Banks himself wasn't in the line of sight, so that's what we did.

Banks left. And I waited.

And, of course, just like I figured... when the entire team burst through the front door AND windows AND walls... they were looking to shoot to kill. Half expected them to accidentally shoot ME, but we avoided that somehow. And, yeah, Cypher took a hell of a lot of convincing that nothing happened. And even more convincing to make him let Banks get involved with the whole scheme.

Cypher was DEFINITELY considering pulling back on the whole thing and just throwing me in a Labyrinth. I could see that little thought ricocheting around in his head. Made me want to pin something OFF of that skull of his to get him to focus. So I did. Probably the best use that mug had had in YEARS.

Eventually... we all got on the same page. First thing Banks did was help me write our "Fake Encounter".

And it all worked.

It goddamn WORKED...

It should be over by now. But it's not. So we just gotta keep moving forward. It's taken a while to get this shit up, but now you'd be pretty much caught up on how things really... came about, I guess. Things have been fucking NUTS here. Have a whole heap of... what would you call them? They're made of the same goop that Cypher is made from. We have a bunch here, all protecting Proxy Bob. Guess I'll let HIM explain that shit, cause I have no idea what the hell....

That's it for now.  I really hope I can get more than an hours sleep tonight...

been having some weird ass dreams.


  1. Gonna have to question your definition of a good person, there. After all, Cypher tortures innocent people when he's bored, and his people help, or stand by and let it happen.

    1. "Good" is relative, I've more or less kinda figured out.

  2. David, if you happen to read this, know that I have a great deal of respect for you. But if the phrase "nipple clamps" ever passes your lips in a non consensual setting ever again, I'm going to find you and shove them up your arse and dick hole.

    Alex, I'm circumstantially obligated to ask you about the weird ass dreams. Weird ass dreams are not the greatest of signs in terms of health. Or anything, come to think of it.

    1. I don't think they're THOSE kind of weird ass dreams. They're hard to explain. A lot of shit meshed together and I always land up flailing and throwing myself out of bed. Which is usually my cue to wake up. Been working on about an hour or so's sleep a night so you'll have to deal if I'm kinda.... "igjifghifdf@lljsdfg;fgjdf" in the brain. I'm dealing.

  3. It makes me sick, it really does, my stomach twisting and turning every time. This "Sam" character. "Such a saint, such an angel" bullshit if I ever heard one, if he was so "Angelic" then why did he become such a horrible ass person? Why did he start portraying the beauty of murder, why did he throw his logic out the window and kill himself? Was it because this Game has corrupted him, nah, that is just an excuse for the weak, for those who can not admit the truth to themselves.

    The reason why this Sam was such an angel before The Game, is simple. He really wasn't, he just was such a good person, because he never tried to be a bad person. But, once the game involved him, once he took someones life, that's when he had a choice. He knew how it is like to be good and how it is like to be bad and from what I red from this post, he chose to keep on murdering. Point I'm trying to make, he was never "Good" he simply never had a choice between the two, so he decided to be something that seemed morally correct by the masses.

    He wasn't corrupt by anyone, he wasn't tortured by anyone into becoming this murderous monster, he CHOSE to be a murderous monster. And when you change your priorities like that, you tend to change your opinion about things. So maybe that roller coaster ride was meant to fall off the tracks, he just never knew about it.

    1. "The reason why this Sam was such an angel before The Game, is simple. He really wasn't, he just was such a good person, because he never tried to be a bad person."

    2. Fucktwad. I'd like you to point out where I used the world "Angelic". I'm not a damn halfwit. I'm saying MY Sam was a good person. MY Sam only wanted to help people. MY Sam was the kind of person everyone should damn well TRY to be. But that was before it made a choice. And it chose to PROTECT ME AND OUR SON over practically its own SOUL and SANITY for fuck's sake. It CHOSE to kill other families to try to save its own. Was that right? NO, IT WASN'T. IT WAS DAMN SELFISH. But it was what it CHOSE to do. It knew it was wrong but it didn't CARE at that point. It wasn't naive, you know. It knew of evil. It knew of hated. It had the scar on its chest to prove it. But it didn't WANT to be part of the problem.

      "People are a strange lot, if you think about it. They're so absorbed in materialistic things and getting one step ahead of everyone else... that they forget that people feel the richest of all when they're live in each others' happiness, not in each others' misery~ Humans are herd animals by nature, you know. We're MEANT to help each other. That's why I became a teacher, really. I want to help kids find their passion. And, if I'm good enough at it, maybe they'll even find..."

      "...Find what?"

      "...A sanctuary. School could be a sanctuary from the harshness of the world, so long as the teachers care enough to keep the door open..."

      I remember that from our first date. Sam and I got talking about world views. And after I spouted my usual venom about most people being a mixture of weasels and pigs... Sam came out with that.

      Sam was Good.

      So fuck you, Kelevra.

      Yes. Sam became Nightscream eventually. Yes, that was a choice. NO, IT DIDN'T suddenly "REALIZE" it liked gutting people. It was the job. And it learnt to LIKE its job. Learnt to ENJOY it. Sam CHANGED to suit it and you know what? part of me is GLAD it enjoyed it. Least it was happy, in some small way...

      Sam wasn't a monster. Sam just... survived. And then thrived. Least until it didn't. My.....significant other (fuck you, gender neutral crap) was HUMAN and you will NOT deny it that!!

    3. Lexi, do you want me to kill Kelevra for you?

    4. Star we've been through this; I'll drag you through Hell and back by the hairs of your arse if you kill Kelevra. And MESS YOUR SHIT UP SIX MILLION TIMES WORSE!!!! Do you WANT to wake up with a fucking pick-axe in your solar plexus? Do you want to be digging bullets out of your ass?

      You would be killing Kelevra, and stealing a kill from Incognito. And I am very protective of my friends.

    5. @Cypher: I don't want anyone else to die. Just Red-Fuck.

      ...And Morgan.

      I want to kill Morgan.

    6. True, we were all humans at some point. That might mean that we do have that little light of redemption still lingering inside of us. I mean we didn't start out to be that BAD. But then something happened to us an we came these monsters. But that little light is still lingering inside and maybe some of us, some day will grab onto it and redeem ourselves. But judging from the fact that he killed himself, he didn't really want to redeem himself, which makes him a real monstrosity, even worse than me, or Skywalker.

      Since when do you need permission Skywalker, oh wait, I forgot, you don't have am ind of your own these days, sorry.

    7. Do you have any idea how he died? I mean, other than what was posted here?

      We are being really enigmatic about 'what redlight did to him'. Which is quite easy to read about really. Sam was kind enough to write a post detailing it. But do you know?

      I think you're getting on my nerves little pufferfish. no amount of 'it's just my opinion' is going to save you from making assumptions about a severely wronged man, then calling him the most monstrous of us all to his spouse.

      Also, I've noticed the 'most monstrous of us all' changes more often than your underwear.

      This doesn't make you evil. Just a dick.

      So please stop calling yourself crazy, evil, monstrous,or any such terms. Because us psychopaths earn that..

      You have not. You are a petty asshole.

    8. Hi, David, Kelevra, Star, I love you all, except Star maybe, but I feel like you all need to be reminded of: perspective. The framework by which knowledge is interpreted.

      For example, we see a penalty during football. Now, both teams know there has been a penalty - that's a fact. But. The team with the penalty thinks the ref is biased. The team without thinks the other team is violent.

      Can't believe that needs to be explained to grown men. Christ.

    9. I find it funny Banky, you getting pissed off at lil' ol' me for just pointing out my opinion. `i mean if it weren't true, you'd just ignore it, or shrug it off. You tell me that I don't know what kind of person he was and yadda yadda. I'm not denying that, in fact I'm happy I never knew him, because he seems like a real FREAK.

      Are you telling me that he is a "Severely wronged man" or is it just you trying to convince yourself of that, after all you knew him better than me. Or did you? Certainly if you did, you wouldn't react like that, I mean you are sure of what kind of person he was, or are you?

      Or maybe, there is that thought, that little thought that is lingering in the back of your head, screaming "Hey Banky, are you sure about that?".

      Cause right now, you don't seem to be sore sure of your own opinion.

    10. Sanna, perceptive doesn't really count anymore when something is fact. Like say... the weather. Say its raining outside. You can say its sunny as much as you damn well like. But that still doesn't change the fact that it's raining. Seriously. Try not to be so narrow.

      Kelevra: It's funny how much you talk through your ass as if you actually know something. When, in actual reality, you're pulling facts from the dead air around you. If anyone knew "Nightscream", it's rather obvious when you read Whispers In The Dark that three people knew it best. Winston "Joseph" Trudeau, Luke "Morningstar" Cipher, and David Fucking Banks.

      Say it's sunny all you want, but that doesn't change the FACT that the ideas you're basing your opinion on are pure bullshit. I don't think its any doubt in David's head that's making him growl at you that it's raining. You're insulting someone he cared about. And in a world where friends are hard to come by.... heh.

      You're really not all that smart, are you? Just a child playing dress up. Trying to play with the Big Boys. It would almost be cute. If you weren't so much like the FLY over the dungheap you keep throwing around. An irritant. Nothing more.

    11. Anonymous, you don't know what a fact is. Here is the fact: Sam committed suicide. Some, such as myself, see that as understandable, others will see it sinful. Who knows, maybe they were very religious or some shit. The point being, "Sam's behaviour was understandable" is not a fact, but an opinion.

      Precipitation is observable and measurable. We can observe and measure rain. Morality is abstract and doesn't have that same materiality. Accepting that alternative view points could hold some validity isn't narrow. In fact, rejecting it is narrow. So now is not the time to be throwing stones in glass houses.

    12. I can't believe you just used the term "Big Boys" so 90's dude, surfs up.

      Fact remains, I can base whatever I want, wherever I want, on whatever grounds I want, you don't like it? Stop me. Look at you throwing these nifty facts at me, lets take your example, lets say it is raining outside, for you, for me its sunshine. You say its dark in this room, I say its pretty light. Whatever is fact, is a fact to you, not for me.

      As for the "Big Boys" comment. Who are those big boys you speaketh of? Skywalker? Banky? Nah, they're not the big boys, even they know it. If I tried to play with the big boys, I would have to go beyond the rules of the board we are all so conveniently placed on, which I can't do, for now at least.

    13. Well, at least you both are starting to sound remotely intelligent. Found where you left your brains, did you?

      Actually, Big Boys would be a pull from Prince of Egypt. I did love that song.

      And while suffering is abstract, I'd say you can, roughly, measure it. The time period it spans over, the intensity, lasting physical or mental affects....

      Yeah, that sounds rather measurable to me, don't you think?

      Opinions are allowed, of course. Would be foolish to imply they aren't. What is also foolish, however, is to judge someone from a shadow's glance. You want to sound all tough and wise, Kelevra? Know you're audience. I know, I know, that you're attempting to factor into the whole.... "gets under your skin" vibe of a Proxy. It's so obvious that's what you're going for. But when you haven't the facts backing you up, all you come off of is a dumbass. "Opinion" only gets you so far. Especially when you are wrong. The POINT of a "gets under your skin" vibe is to produce a near... psychic-type/mentalist standpoint. Assumptions are based on gathered fact and knowledge that you can twist around and shove down someone's throat. Not make it out as if someone who was, quite literally, obliterated in every sense of word... suddenly went "foo foo foo I'm gonna kill myself today dur".

      Also, telling Banks he didn't know Sam is a pointless insult. It's going to go in one ear and out of other. After all, you're nothing.

      What you COULD say if you really wanted to get under Bank's skin... is that, if he had considered himself any manner of friend at all, he would have NOTICED the obvious Redlit-signs when they had met before hand. Hell, Sam nearly passed out when David touched it. He could have stopped the entire thing before it started. But he was too self-absorbed. Always has been, really. And it's because of that, because of his own ego and pride, that those he cares most about will continue to slip through his fingers. Just like Ronan. And that, my friends, is David Fucking Banks.

    14. I said morality, not suffering. Kelevra is guilty of oversimplifying morality. In the same vein, you are guilty of oversimplifying suffering. Can you account for brain activity? Sensitivity of the nervous system? Record their every thought? Because at that point, you're just standing there recording time, and recording how many times someone gets punched. Not recording suffering. Suffering has no unit of measurement.

      Also. Did you just imply that Ronan and Sam's deaths were David's fault? Why is what REDLIGHT and that other bitch did suddenly David's fucking fault? If you were David, would you seriously be creeping all over Sam after almost losing control around it? No, you'd probably keep your distance and demonstrate respect for its boundaries because you don't want to hurt it. When someone passes, the first connection made is not "Redlight", but "dehydration", "stress", "blunt trauma".

      Although... considering that you're blind to perspective, I shouldn't be surprised that you're blind to the benefit of hindsight.

    15. "Under their skin" why would I waste my time on doing that. I know that I don't know the guy, I know that I'm making assumptions, I know that they might be wrong and I can accept that they ARE wrong. There is no point in me trying to get under their skin, since, well there's really no point, I don't operate like that...Okay thats a lie, but I don't operate like that with people I'm not hunting down, or not amused with.

      You're so sure of who's who and what's what its funny to me. Because by bringing all these facts against me, your contradicting yourself, you don't even know me, yet you are immediately making a wild assumption about me trying to get under their skin, about me trying to rev them up. While in reality, I am simply curious, that curiosity drives me to ask questions. Its your fault that you see those questions as means of me getting under their skin. I mean re-read my comment to Banks, all I do is ask him if he is so sure of what he is saying and if he is, why is he so sure.

      In a sense, yes, I am questioning how well he knew this Sam, because to me, Banky seems to be unsure himself. Tis why I am asking the questions if he is so sure, I want to find out if he really is, or not.

      No intention of getting under anyone's skin. Congratulations, you just went and made a big ass assumption about me, based on no facts, which means yu just contradicted yourself. My applause.

    16. Kelevra: Annoying, isn't it? :)

      Sanna: I did say "roughly", my dear. You can actually measure the stress put on a system. Respiratory, Pulse, Brain activity, etc. etc. Not by any means detail by detail but... roughly. You can measure it.

      I also did not say that it was David's fault. I said that if you wanted to get under his skin, you might go that way. Press into that territory. I have yet to give my opinion on the matter. Assumptions, assumptions~

    17. I was going to leave it and ignore it like I had been doing, but I think it deserves correcting.

      Sanna. No one here is questioning morality. I don't know where you got that from, apart from Kelevra's "Angelic" comment which everyone scoffed at him for. Sam. Was a bad person. It liked gutting people with its gauntlet and had a fondness for ancient tortures. Did it start off that way? Obviously not. But people change. For good or for worse.

      The question is whether or not the SUFFERING Nightscream DID go through was too much punishment for the crimes. Whether it was at fault for its own demise. In my own opinion, it did not deserve the length nor severity. You can have your own opinion on the matter, but do not ignore the fact that it DID suffer, nor should you act as if its suicide was some... random decision, making it a monster for not being able to fight the monsters in its head (and out of it) anymore. I suppose some may call it weak for its choice, but that is a matter of perspective. Personally, I'd say whoever calls it weak should undergo the same treatment. See if they change their minds after.

      My problem with Kelevra is his loose understanding of near everything that has occurred, yet his insistence to make assumptions and declarations. Like I did above, it can be annoying as hell. If I cared enough to really want to bug him, my first step would be to read his blog. But I don't care enough to. If he himself really was as "curious" as he said, he would be reading "Whispers" to understand where Alex and the rest are coming from. Since he obviously has not bothered... I fail to label him "curious". Just a "douche".

    18. I don't think I did offer any substantial opinion on the matter, and I never denied it's suffering. I think you're trying to read into something that isn't there. Don't waste your time refuting an argument I did not make.

      Say what you like about Kelevra. But I never challenged you about Kelevra. I'm not trying to defend what he's saying. Again. That's a waste of my time and yours.

      I'm afraid that justice is as immeasurable as morality; the two are heavily linked. If you study the English language you'll note that it's an abstract noun.

      When you say something is "roughly" measurable, I think you just mean "it's not measurable". You can measure heart rate, but that won't give any unit on suffering defined as a sum of negative experiences.

    19. I like being a douche, thank you.

      Not necessarily annoying, just pointing out that you contradicted yourself. And I can be curious, maybe not to the point where I go off on a researching tirade, reading up every blog I can find and yadda, yadda, yadda...

      I mean that is why I'm asking questions, in order to save myself some time from reading up on his blog, that simple.

      And where on earth did I say that he is weak for choosing suicide? All I said, is that he didn't really want to achieve anything, or redeem himself, or anything, all he wanted to do, is die. And that is what makes him so monstrous, not weak, there's a difference. Instead of fighting for his beliefs, instead of trying to redeem himself (Cause he sure sounds like he would try to do it, basing from this post and the comments) he just said, "Fuck that, I don't care about that, all I care about is myself and how I want some rest."

      And who can blame him, in the end, we all look out for number one. But the thing that makes him so monstrous, is that he killed himself, not even thinking about Lexi here, that she would start blaming herself, that he would force her to change, that he would force her into this game. He never considered that, cause apparently, from the course of actions he took, he never really cared.

    20. Keep this up Kelevra and I will personally put you through what Redlight did to Sam. This is your ONE and ONLY warning.

    21. Since when do you give out warnings dear ol' Skywalker? Just do it, if you really want to, what's stopping you? You know I'm not afraid of you, so giving me warnings ain't gonna do squat.

      Besides, I kind of want you to put me through it, cause I can guarantee you, in the end, I won't take my life, I have grander things to achieve.

    22. "But the thing that makes him so monstrous, is that he killed himself, not even thinking about Lexi here, that she would start blaming herself, that he would force her to change, that he would force her into this game. He never considered that, cause apparently, from the course of actions he took, he never really cared."

      Do you even understand what it is to be Redlit? I don't think you do. Reality is no longer Reality. Common Sense and Logic and Experience and Skill become useless. Your Mind itself is now you're worst enemy...

      and things that you once knew... suddenly are flipped around. Your mind's response is a confusion that threads deep. Spiking anger. And, even going so far... as to manifest something as the Truth that Was which you can't understand anymore.

      Your only clues being flashes of red. That FEELING crawling under your skin that things just aren't adding up quite right....

      And when you finally do break through... when you finally wake up (or are torn awake), all the doors open. All the realities heap onto you... and you're left untangling the mess. Trying to find reason. To even know who you are. And trust who others are...

      After all... the son that Redlight dangled in front of it, tricking it into thinking he was alive, had been dead for years. And poor Nightscream... believed it had already sacrificed the only other person who mattered...

      So fuck you, Kelevra.

      In my opinion. No one would deserve this treatment more than you.

      PS - Sanna, I was never arguing with you. I was arguing with Kelevra. Sorry, dear.

    23. What is stopping me? Aside from, at the moment, EVERYTHING? Well there is the fact I am SOMEWHAT invested in your little plan for Sanna. But my patience for your shenanigans is growing VERY THIN.

      Tell me what you prefer. Option 1, I will erase that imaginary girlfriend of yours. Fortissimo or whatever. THEN I will go about eating your memories of Mommy and Daddy. THEN I will gorge myself on any succulent childhood memories you have. By the time my buffet is over, you will be a hollow wreck of a human being. It will be hilarious.

      Option 2, Opening up a Labyrinth, sticking you in it and depriving you of all senses. No sight, no sound, no taste, no feel, no smell. Just you and that diseased little brain of yours. By the time you get out of that, do you know what you will be like? You won't be suicidal... No... You aren't strong enough for that. You will just be reduced to my little bitch. Who knows. Maybe I will make you the Alfred to my Batman. Or maybe I will just throw you back in that Labyrinth and forget about it after I am done laughing at you. HAHAHAHA.

      What is your preference?

    24. "Maybe I will make you the Alfred to my Batman"

      What kind of punishment is THAT? Alfred is fucking awesome.

      If you tried to do any of those things to him, I would try and stop you. Every time you take a step towards Kelevra with the intention of killing him, I will punch an elderly person.

    25. Really? Oh My GOD that is hilarious. Look. I am taking steps towards Kelevra right now. He is somewhere... East of me, right? Maybe Northeast? Fuck it. Either way, I am taking a step towards him with the intention to kill him.

    26. Lets go with Option 1, you will be wasting your time Skywalker, want to eat my memories? Want to suck on the juicy feelings? Go on, visit that place that are my thoughts, memories and so on. Try not to lose your own mind inside there and not fall into my own labyrinth.

    27. OPTION 2 IT IS. Thanks for Playing Kelly. I will probably get around to it by... Hmmm... The Middle of January or so. I know it might be hard for you, but don't DIE til then, 'kay? That would be SO RUDE.

    28. But January is when my birthday is. :(

    29. Alright, option 2 then, makes no difference. However, no promises about the dying part, my time is running out, slowly, but running out, I suggest you hurry.

  4. Oh come on I was kidding. As if I'd use nipple clamps. They're so cheesy.

    And this is the time where I need to remind everyone that Kelevra is not a real shrink. He also never knew Sam. And has his facts wrong. He sounds really convincing though, I'll give him that. Gold star for effort.

    1. So is putting someone in the boot of a car. Can't be too careful, can I?

    2. Not trying to convince anyone of anything dear Banky, simple assumptions, my thoughts, personal opinions and that other jazz. I assumed everyone were familiar enough with me, that I always assume things, about people that I never knew. Guess I have to remind everybody of that, all the time.

    3. Putting someone in the trunk of a car is not cheesy. It's useful.

      No, you don't have to all the time. Because I am. See, I'm being helpful.

    4. In light of you playing a Pop School Musical song while torturing Legolas, I subconsciously lowered the cheesiness threshold for you. Sorry.

  5. My Alex. I can agree with the crowd on one thing, dreams are really concerning. Especially after your little ruse fell through. Looks a little... damning.

    Howdy Mr. Banks. This was quite a little side trip for you. I dare say it sounds like it required a lot of time away from notable dependents.

    Worrying. Both of these things.

    1. I've seen a lot of shit. done a lot of shit. you'd probably even say there'd be something wrong with me if I WASN'T having nightmares. I'm fine...ish. I guess. not like I sleep that much anyway.

    2. and what's with the "my Alex" anyway??

    3. Whats with it? 'My, my Alex.' Its a condescending way to immediately present yourself as inquisitive to a situation you stumble upon.

      I just used one 'my' though, so I guess it read funny.

      Struggling with nightmares and insomnia looks really bad on paper given the nature of your situation but you're right. Its also quite common. Almost normal or expected. Doesn't mean it doesn't merit concern.