Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The "Date"

9:00 PM, and Nietzsche's all seeing eye watches me as I edge near the pub's front door. It was even scarier in the dim, orange glow of the night. And believe me, I almost felt like the cherubs were glaring at me, with their distorted faces. It almost reminded me of mannerism art. Artwork such as this:

It was nightmare fuel unleaded for me, those statues judging me from above. There is something unsettling about statues, particularly those specifically sculpted to look so human, yet human at the same time. The same thing kind of happened when I played Amnesia.


It was like facing that.

I'm almost surprised I had no nightmares last night, especially after my time spent in that wretched place. And the irony of it all, it looked exactly like a normal bar on the inside. The bar counter was descent, there seemed to be a lot to choose from. Music was resonating off the walls and speakers, of course. It was songwriter's showcase, open mike of course. The guy we walked in on was average, not bad, but not amazing either. Everyone that was already in the bar seemed focused on him for the most part. For that reason I was glad. I'm still underaged, so being caught in a bar like that alone was probably not the best idea ever. It's part of the reason I didn't even want to go there, but too late now, I guess...

It looked like a normal bar....

Until I looked up.

Writing...all over the ceiling. I couldn't be damned to try to read it all. I had to wonder, who had the time to write all that? How old was this place that people even needed to do such a think? I realize now that some of them could of been signatures of some of the artist that played here in the past, but still it was shocking to look up and see a shitload of writing on the wall. Not to mention this one mask, plaster, thing hanging from the ceiling...

So, in an attempt to keep myself from becoming too paranoid, I began looking around for my "date". One of the tables seemed to be the only one occupied, by a guy in a black hoodie who looked like he was waiting for someone. He didn't seem to notice me as I sat down after a few seconds of willing myself to turn away, by then I already felt kind of awkward. He his hood over his face, so I couldn't see what he looked like. He was kind of dark skinned though, that much I knew at the time.

Me: Hi...

???: Hey.

Me: My name is Steph...

Bastard didn't even say anything after that. I could not help but sigh, the situation was getting sort of bland. It was pretty obvious it was going to be one ultra long night from the get go. Should of bailed when I had the chance.

Me: I was supposed to meet my blind date here. Are you him?

???: Yeah.

Me: Are you going to at least give me a name?

???  (shrugging): Not until the date's over and done. That's what they said.

Me: Oh...that sounds great. Wait... They? You're not one of them?

???: Believe me, you don't know the half of it.

Before I could respond a platter with two glasses on it was placed on our table. The guy reached for one of them and started sipping at it. Of course I didn't do a thing. I mean...what if they were poisoned? (Yeah, I watch too many movies for my own good) Or worse? Tasted horrible?!

Me: I'm not touching that.

???: It's only water you know.

I felt a chill go down my spine. I remember it one of those feelings where you know someone was watching you. The guy in the black hoodie didn't seem to notice, or he did, but was trying to hide it. But at that moment it was pretty obvious that I should've been feeling some deja vu. Cautiously, I grabbed my glass, and began sipping at it, wondering whether my "date" asked these to be brought here, or someone else.

M: Do I know you?

???: What?

Me: Do I know you?

???: I'm not allowed to say.

Me: Why not?

???: They're watching us.

I followed his gaze towards the bar counter. Sure enough someone was staring at me for a split second before looking away. Never did get to see what they look like. Not that it matters, but it does make it slightly more unnerving since now for real I have my pair of stalkers without a face (see what I did there?). Moments later we were given some steak, which is weird, because it didn't seem like there was a kitchen there. In fact. I'm pretty sure they didn't sell any food. For that moment, I chose to ignore it.

I mean, free food.

Obviously the entire thing was payed for and patronized by the creepy stalker people (who apparently will have no problem killing you if ordered to). But the steak didn't taste like any sort of steak you would find at a restaurant. It was actually as bland ad dull as the situation at hand was. They tried.

But I didn't even eat my food. My "date" on the other hand ate it all up. You could tell he hadn't eaten in a while. Awkwardness abound, I decided to ask him why I was there, if this wasn't a real date.

???: It hope it isn't a real date, no offense meant. But I suppose I might as well, doesn't seem like much anyways. Sorry to tell you this, but this is probably a waste of your time.

He gave me a piece of paper, nothing on it except a youtube link and more coordinates.

Me: They aren't even trying are they?

???: They're still watching.

Me: I know!

???: ...

Me: Sorry...well, you're probably right anyways. I don't even know why I came here.

???: I could tell you right now, but I'd be more in danger of dying if I did. But I can tell you this, at least you'll be one step closer to saving your mother.

Me: How do you know about my mother?

He shrugs, I hate it when they shrug.

???: You just overhear things. I don't really know. But that doesn't matter. What do you think you're going to do?

Me: Huh?

???: Are you going to be pursuing her soon? 

Me: That's not the word I would use for it dude.

???: Will you be searching for her?

Me: I....I really don't know at this point.

???: Yes?

Me: I just got yelled at by an eleven year old, and now I have this weird feeling I'll be dying earlier than I wanted to. Call it weird, but how do you deal with knowing that there are people out there who can send trained killers after you at a breath?

???: I make a mental note and keep moving on like it didn't happen.

Me: Ah...

???: Really though, you must've done something wrong to deserve such treatment.

Me: Don't remind me.

Another shrug from the guy in the black hoodie.

???: Are you going to eat your steak, or let it just sit there?

I gave the steak up to him, I really didn't feel like eating at the moment. And the atmosphere in general was making me feel queasy.

Later on we dance because we had to make it realistic, or something like that. The exact juicy details are hard to place, but I sucked, there's nothing else to it. I could never dance, that was Rebecca's job. I was always the one who would stand at the side lines during school dances. I preferred my sketchbook to socializing. Really, Rebecca's pretty much the only person I ever really hanged out with more than once. So, I never learned the trick of the trade. I personally think some of the other folks at the bar were giggling at me. Not that it mattered. Apparently my "date" can't dance either. So, I guess we were both the laughing stock of that day.


Yeah, it was embarrassing. He stopped me after three songs.

???: This isn't working.

Me: Gee, ya think?

???: I don't even know why they're making me date you tonight.

Me: You're telling me.

???: My guess is that they think you're actually my girlfriend.

Steph: You have a girlfriend named  Steph?

???: That's how I reached that conclusion. Stephanie, you already know this.

Steph: Wait. What are you saying?

Once again he looked at the bar counter, and once again I followed his gaze. I think we both breathed a sigh of relief at the same time. They were nowhere in sight. But that unified sense of relief didn't last long, let me tell you.

???: Stephanie, it's me, Leon.

I was this close to losing it. This close. Fortunately, I only slapped him across the face, and ran the hell out of there before it turned into one of those brawl fights you see in a movies. Or maybe because I'm a fucking coward, but I couldn't do anything in front of those people. I could still feel the all seeing eye pierce my back as I ran, and Leon's hand on my back before I pushed him away. I cursed him with as many swear words as I knew, calling him the coward for running away when his friends needed him. He simply told me there was no other choice in that damned calm as hell voice of his. DOES THIS GUY EVER YELL?

I didn't give him the benefit of the doubt, and I don't think I ever can. Even after seeing that thing stand on top of the building, even after seeing him take Leon into its hug. I didn't even try to pull Leon away, I was crying and raging inside at the same time, my knees hurt. I was puking all night last night. Slept all day today. Those pills Dr. Fitzpatrick gave me help. They really do.

But Leon...I'm really mad at him right now. But at the same time...

I don't know. I really don't know. I guess I'm just hoping something bad hasn't happened to him, even though he bailed out on us when Slender Man attacked Frank.

Part of me really wants to call "karma"...

Looked up the coordinates on Google Map not too long ago. Apparently I have to go to Maine if I want to find my mother. But something about the word "Maine" ties my stomach in a knot.

Or maybe it's the guilt.


  1. two down, seven to go.

    can you take the guilt?


  2. complications have arise.

    the sacrifice has escaprf o ll p


  3. So, what does this mean? Is Leon dead? Or alive? Should I tell the police about this?

    ...No, that's too risky.

    Steph, I'm not sure how to feel about this.

  4. if you were to pick one person that you wanted to die

    who would you pick?

  5. I dunno, that's a really tough question.

    How about nobody?

  6. @Rebecca:

    Don't worry about it, I'm sure Leon's okay. Not too sure whether I'm so keen on letting the police catch him now. Part of me still thinks he deserves being ripped to shreds by Slender Man. But...

    I don't know Rebecca, all I can do is just let him do whatever the fuck he wants.