Sunday, March 31, 2013

Survival Advice

Tips on how not to get gutted by the Slender Man.

I've seen some other blogs on this topic, though a lot of them have some pretty crappy info, (get up high my ass.) I thought I'd compile my experiences, as well as the trials and errors of others into a helpful guide.

1. Don't think about it. 

Spend as little time as you can thinking about the Slenderman. If you lie down in bed and spend time imagining all the horrible ways he could kill you, you will not last long. Get up! Move! Do busy work! Take up knitting! Don't concentrate on him, don't concentrate on his victims, just keep doing what you have to do to stay alive. And if you're like me and your job is all about thinking about him, then normalize him. Turn him to something as natural as filing your taxes. Helps control the fear.

2. Stay in areas where you feel comfortable. 

You really don't need to run from this thing. The death rates are about the same either way. I think some runners just feel better to know they're running. If you stay in one place though where you feel all but untouchable, it'll make it a hell of a lot harder for him to get to you. That's why I chose the desert. It's warm, no tree's, plenty of sunlight and you can see everything for miles in every direction. The truth of the matter is your just as in much trouble wherever you are, but it's the believing your safe that will help you. The only exception I can think of is forests. Just stay out of the forests, (come on kids, that's a no brainer. And you really should avoid crowded areas even if they do feel a lot safer than anything else. It's easy to infect people.

3. Keep some music on you at all times.

Specifically a radio works great. Electronic devices tend to wig out whenever anything Slenderman appears. I still don't know exactly why that is, but it works as a great alarm system. Keep it on you as much as you can.

4. Don't get attached. 

When you're three seconds away from death on a constant basis, it is not the time to find yourself a significant other. I know it must suck to die a virgin, but believe me when I say it'll work out better in the long run. Keeping yourself alive is one thing, but keeping two people alive? That's not easy work. The more best friends for life you make, and the more people you make out with, and the more people you take in, the more it's going to hurt when they bite the bullet. And you can lie to yourself and pretend you don't care about the people who are dying around you, but everybody cares in some way. And getting close to people makes it that much harder to detach from them, and it screws with your judgement too. Don't get close to people. I know that seems like a cold choice, but there comes a time when you have to decide if you'd rather be immoral and alive, or a martyr.

5. Learn how to fight. 

This should be a no brainer. As strong as most proxies are their technique is absolute crap. Pick up a do it yourself boxing book or something, invest in some illegal firearms, put some nails in a baseball bat. It won't be any good on Tall and Slender, but it'll certainly be something. Of course when you train up you do run the risk of becoming a pretty nasty proxy should you turn. Guess that's motivation to keep your mental health up.

6. Find a good smell.

Remember how I said a lot of the stalked have trouble breathing. If you keep a good smell on you, (dried up flowers, some peppermint, cinnamon, eccetera,) it'll be a live saver when you're doubled over wheezing.  Your body likes to inhale things that smell good, so it'll help your breathing a lot, as well as sending some positive messages to your brain that will calm you down.

7. Never be unprepared. 

You know what isn't fun? Hitchhiking. I know you might think it could be fun, but trust me, it isn't. You know what else isn't fun? Sleeping in a gutter because you're too broke for a motel. You know what else really isn't fun? Walking home when you're three states away. Keep your clothes lined with money, and always have everything you need on you at all times in case you ever black out and find yourself relocated. It'll make your life so much easier.

8. Learn how to play poker. 

If you are ever short on cash and have no way to earn any, gambling is the best way to go. Credit card fraud works well too, but then you have police chasing you, and coupons will only get you so far. Get good at poker, or better yet, learn how to cheat.

9. Records on everything.

Preferably in a pocket notebook. Keep track of what you did everyday, and always record a sighting with him. You should also have a watch. If you black out, you'll know how much time you lost, and you'll be able to figure out just what exactly happened to you before you blacked out. It's a good way to keep everything straight. (As of right now I'm missing one year and three months of my life.)

10. Keep your mind in a state of peace.

You have to be calm at all times. You can't lose it, because I promise you It'll take advantage of it. You have to be constantly at ease and coolheaded. No panicking, no losing your temper, no falling into states of depression. It's the best way to turn into a proxy, and that is a fate worse than death. So no matter what happens, or how bad things get, you keep it together. Otherwise things will only get worse.

I'll post some more when I can think of some. I've been up all night with this proxy, and I only just now finished the autopsy and it's time for a nap.

Happy Easter.

Saturday, March 30, 2013

#1 - Transcript

[03:08] Alright&, this is me&, testing out the system. Wait. Are we live/? Testing&, testing&, alpha&, beta&, charlie - wait&, it is. Fuck&, okay. Sorry about that. Alright&, today would be [pause] you know what&, I'^m not counting this stuff in days. [static] It'^s a Saturday&, Easter actually&, yippee. No. Um&, yeah. We'^re here&, and things are the same as always. Nothing much has happened. I pretty much just sat here all day. Getting pretty hungry&, come to think of it. Wait&, okay, I'^m rambling. [pause] [pause] Uh&, alright. I'^m using up valuable disk space here&, but I guess it'^s valid if it'^s a legitimate program and systems check. Everything seems to be running smoothly so far&. I'^ll be checking back later for programming glitches&, I wrote the codes in kind of a hurry. Alright&, I think I^'m done for now. Thanks&, guys. Uhm&, yeah. Dan out. [END, 03:16]

Friday, March 29, 2013

The Big Question

So let's begin with the big bad question on everybody's mind.

What the hell is Slender Man?

Is that ever a hard question to answer.

I think we can all agree It's not just some guy in a suit who gets a kick out of scaring the shit out of people, but other than that what can you say about It? Is It an alien? A ghost? A killer meme?

Well first of all, no, no, and hell no. That would be freaking stupid.

No, It's a lot harder to pin than that. One thing I've learned over the years is that you can't take personal accounts as facts. For example I've had a gent pop in a few years ago, and he seemed to think that this thing was some kind of stupid animal; that he was impossible to beat physically but it was a breeze to outsmart him. Then just a few weeks later, I interviewed an old woman who told me that he was inescapable, that he haunted her mind sharing knowledge from a higher power, enlightening her with grand knowledge from beyond or some shit. Both of them were pretty far gone when I spoke to them. 

Out of everyone I've met over the years, I've recorded their accounts and nothing ever really matches up just quite right. Everyone's account has a little bit of differences to it. Sure you have the obvious similarities, no face, the suit, freakishly tall, peeping in through your bedroom window, etcetera. But for everything these accounts had in common, there's about five things that are different. What's even weirder are the types of people who he chooses to come after. Before the internet epidemic, (and now there's a video game too I find. Friggin inspired that is,) the people I encountered were very different. They were from different countries, with different economic backgrounds, different ethnicities, different ages, different personalities; almost nothing in common besides the giant killer octopus man coming after them. 

Nowadays there majority of the people I meet are within a certain age range, about thirteen to twenty-nine, all of them from first world countries, kids and young adults who spend time on the internet and get a lot of exposure to this stuff, but even then the only commonality is the age and access to internet. All the other aspects, that being sex, ethnicity, background and personality, show no patterns. 

And that's not good news when you're me. There's no written work about Slenderman outside of some questionable German literature that will get you nowhere, and there isn't a way to scientifically study It without getting shot in the head. All I have to go on are the accounts of the stalked, and the autopsies of proxies. And if the accounts are all different, the cause of death are all different, and the victims are all different, it makes it almost impossible to narrow down anything for sure. Here's a list of commonalities in victims:

* Visions of Slenderman, who is always dressed in a suit, always is tall with spindly or tentacle like arms, and always has no face. It's also important to note that the operator symbol and uneasiness around forests or trees is also consistency.

* Nightmares, and difficulty sleeping. Whether it be from PTSD, extreme anxiety and paranoia, or interference from Slenderman himself is still unclear.

* Extreme emotions. Feelings of anger, irritation, impatience, hopelessness, depression, fear, anxiety, and sadness are all enhanced beyond normal. Even if you're the kind of person who holds in emotions or is relatively calm, your feelings will be a great deal more intense and every little thing, no matter how insignificant, will feel a hundred times worse than it should. This might be another thing from stress, but it's relevant to positive emotions too, especially in proxies. When you feel happy, you feel really happy.

* Susceptibility to illness and severe health conditions. This one I'm a little less certain on, and it seems to pertain more to the very far gone people. The closer you are to death the more physical symptoms of illness will affect you. Vomiting, coughing, trouble breathing, fevers, nosebleeds, hallucinations, fatigue, and in rare cases heart attacks and strokes will occur, even without the victim contracting any disease or having any previous health condition. Whether this is because of the conditions a lot of the stalked are exposed to or is an actual effect that comes from being near It, still isn't clear. The most common is trouble breathing, (isn't that right Danny?)

* Loss of memory and frequent blackouts. I can't tell you how many times I've woken up the other-side of the country in some dirty roadside motel with no idea of how I got there. And you can't just blame it on the substance abuse either. I've been out for months at a time. I don't know what happens in those spaces of time. I don't know where I go or what the hell I do, but that's a problem the stalked are always dealing with. 9 out of 10 of the people I talk to have had this happen multiple times. It's one of those fun things you just have to get used to.

* Death of immediate family, or very close friends. This one has always been the most troubling for me. When I say immediate family or close friends, I am referring to people who are not afflicted or have no prior experience to the Slenderman. The reason they die is by association with the stalked, not because they have ever been exposed to Slenderman, and it is extremely common. If you are one of the stalked, chances are the people close to you are the ones in the most immediate danger. The people you spend the most time thinking about. For a lot of them I think they were murdered by proxies, but that still begs the question why Slenderman doesn't have the proxies murder just any innocent people. Why only the ones with close connections to the stalked? But if you're wondering about that question, then you have to wonder what It's motive is. Is it to kill people, or drive them crazy, or turn everyone into proxies? People usually split on this one. Can't decide if the Slenderman does what It does for it's own survival, or if it has a greater goal in mind. That's one of those things that seems to fluctuate. But taking out a person's family does seem like a very human approach as opposed to an animal one. Making it's victim suffer as opposed to just killing it. It isn't a smart move from an objective point also as it just draws more attention to the Slenderman, but hey, maybe that's the point.

* Supernatural Phenomenon. Here's where shit starts to get teeth grindingly frustrating. Obviously if you got a monster stalking you and screwing around in your id, you're bound to go a little cuckoo. So sometimes you can't take everything you hear at face value. When your friend start shrieking about the walls closing in on them and you know they aren't, it's time to come to some conclusions about your friends mental health. However, once back when I was about seventeen, I passed out and somehow managed to jump from Texas to a forest in the middle of California in the space of a half hour, and after you've lived to see a seven foot tall tentacle man in a suit, you find yourself becoming a great deal more open minded. So I hear talk about a magic trail of leaves that proxies use, or dimension hopping, or trees that bleed, or proxies with magical powers and it's hard to know whether it's the truth or just mindless babbling. The only way I know to be sure is if I'm sober and I see it myself. I know that may sound hypocritical, but seeing is believing folks when you live among maniacs.

*A sudden passion for artistic pursuits. This is a big one, and it's especially bad for people who already had a passion for artistic pursuits. I once let a former painter spend the night in my parlor, only to wake up the next morning to find he'd painted a mural of a forest in his sleep. Kids have their creepy ass crayon doodles, teens have their spray paint operator symbols, spend some idle time with a pen and some hotel stationary and you'll find a very terrifying image you didn't really intend to draw in the first place. It applies to music too, as well as writing or prose. Proxies love their prose. Easy way to tell if your friend is a proxy, is he spouting shit about the looming and prevalent night? Experimenting with some freestyle slam poetry? Using a bunch of metaphors? Yeah, shoot him in the head.

*The need to document. This one falls right in line with artistic pursuits and the idea that the Slenderman is all about spreading the word.  It never really occurred to me that writing down my experiences could be a bad thing, but it is. Especially blogging, which fuck me I guess for anyone who gets themselves into trouble because of this shit. It's an urge. All of you have some twitchy fingers right? You want to write stuff down, preferably where everyone can see it. You want to spread the word, to let people know what's going on. But when you do that, you risk exposing someone else to Slenderman. You risk creating another victim. You risk infecting them. 

Because when you get down to it, that's what it feels like doesn't it? 

A disease. 

That is what It is. A fatal disease. 

Deep in your brain there is an infection. I don't know how it gets there, but trust me it's there, and that is where he comes from. I've opened up proxies and done some poking around and in every single one, stretching from the medulla right into the temporal lobe, was an infection. A black substance that had rooted itself in the brain and grown, tainting the blood there and consuming the brain one piece at a time. From what I could tell it wasn't fatal, the black stuff seemed like it was substituting blood, although I don't know how that's possible. Looking at it, you'd think someone had planted a tree in there. Because that's what it looked like. A tree. I've done one or two autopsies on some dead runners who had died fairly sane, and there were traces of it too. I've tried some surgery once or twice, see if I could remove it, but it always grows back. 

This is a theory, but I think that all it takes is some concentration, just thinking and believing in a being to the point he haunts your every waking moment, and your marked. The only way I can think to kill it would be to surgically remove it from a person's memory, but that's impossible. And electroshock therapy is only a quick fix. And it still doesn't explain how a vein on a person's brain brought a being into physical existence. There may be other aspects. I think there's some kind of gene a person can inherit like hemophilia or something, but I'm still not sure. And I don't think the goal is to kill us, I think it's to use us. To bully us through psychological torment into positions where we can accomplish some measly task. Kill the right person, demolish the right items, deliver the correct information, and then it disposes of us. That's not to think we're not in control, I do believe a lot of this is the power of suggestion. 

Our feelings and dispositions affect so much of your experience, which would explain why accounts never match up quite right. In some cases, I think this disease is enough to alter the reality around you, to change the laws of physics, if you believe such a thing is possible. But it gets him right in your head where he can manipulate you as you please. Your feelings and goals are your own, but they are being used against you. And whether it's apart of some master plan, or if it's just the normal of affect of a disease is still unclear. But it explains how proxies come to be and it explains why so many people believe with all their hearts that they are doomed. One last commonality I've recorded. 

* Violent tendencies and urges, as well as an apathy to death and killing. I think that one speaks for itself.

Transcript Info

Daniel here.

For ease of access and information supply, I've set up an audio record, transcript and upload program on my laptop. It's gonna be easier, for me, than typing stuff up. So every day, at ten to an hour (5:50pm, 6:50pm, 7:50pm etc) a little window pops up on my screen asking if I'd like to make a recording. They'll probably be mostly business related shit, like how many Proxies Annie sliced up, how many times I got the piss scared out of me in the last x amount of hours, et cetera.

[03:32] The transcripts themselves will look something like this, in grey Courier, because Courier is awesome. Sounds that occur during the recording will be interpreted like the words will, but if it's not a clear sound, this will happen. [audio confusion] That was my hitting the wall with my laptop case, and as it wasn't a cough, me clearing my throat, a scream, a pause, background noise, static or footsteps, as those are the only ones I've coded into the database, it comes up with audio confusion. The transcripts are simply what the mic hears me say, and what the AI can interpret. You shits better appreciate my transcripts, the program was a bitch to code. [pause. audio confusion] It can't pick up punctuation, obviously, apart from full stops, due to my change in tone, and commas due to again tone change and short pauses. Longer pauses are interpreted as such. [pause] I hope I've made this clear and all. Oh, also. End of transcript is represented like this. [END]

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Not An Opening Statement

Hey there everyone, or rather nobody.

I'm Daniel Cypress, and I see my associate has welcomed you to our humble (my side of it is humble anyway, ANNALEE) website.

She basically said everything worth saying, all I'm really doing here is introducing myself I guess. I actually do have better things to do than write an essay about how bad ass I am, unlike SOME PEOPLE, so yeah.

To put in a little lighthearted cliche, well, you know my name, and attempting to Slender hunt, coding, gaming and hacking is my game. I know that doesn't make sense grammatically.

So. Yep. Bye.

- Daniel

(Not 'Danny', I don't care what she says)

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

An Opening Statement

Let me start by making one thing painfully clear to you. I do not like my job. For all intents and purposes my job is kind of a drag. I don't like some of the things I have to do in order to research this thing. Shocker I know, seeing as how a lot of you sickos get a real kick out of chopping people into tiny bits. But sometimes there are bad situations that only have bad solutions, and if somebody doesn't step up and get their hands dirty than the snowball keeps rolling and bad just goes to worse. 

Now that that's said, let me explain to you who I am.

I am not a runner. Running is for self-righteous assholes who love to buy into that see no evil, hear no evil bullshit. You may think that's cold, but take it from me honey, running won't keep you alive. It's certainly not going to keep anyone else alive, in fact in my experience runners are the asshats who leave the most colateral damage. Runners are the ones who become the damn proxies, they're the ones who trail-blaze through cities and towns and forests and police stations and leave a wake of dead in their paths. Not that I'm much better, but hey at least I contribute to the damn cause. If you don't plan on lifting a finger to kill Mr. Tentacles, do the world a favor and just curl up and die. You won't get any sympathy from me. If that hurts your feelings, kindly go cry about it to someone who gives a shit. 

I am the bitch who's going to kill Slenderman. 

Predictably you are still nursing your injured ass, and are now pursing your lips and whining, "Oh sure! That's what they all say in the beginning."

Well first off, please go die in a ditch. Of course that's what they all say in the beginning, but I intend to follow through.

I've been at this for 15 years. Hunting proxies, burning down forests, collecting research and compiling a database. This is my life. From day one this is what I was destined to do, and by God I'm gonna fucking do it. I'm not giving up because it's hard, I'm not going to turn tail and run because I'm afraid to die, and I'm not going to sit here and whine about my life and how unfair it's been to me. Life is a bitch and you do what you have to do to get by, but screw anyone who thinks the Slenderman can't get his ass kicked into next week. I'm here to tell you that he most definitely can. He's not God, and he's not the devil. He was born of something and he'll die of something. 

I've probably gone and pissed on a bunch of people with that intro, but whatever I'm not here because I wanted to be Miss America.

I've got business to attend to. If you feel like learning something new about hunting tentacle monsters with a taste for Ralph Lauren, by all means stick around. If you bratty little interwebbers can pull your heads out of your prose stuffed asses, you might get lucky. 


Annalee Cardinal.