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Ted here with a new entry for The Bulge Blog.

Things been a bit slow for me since they've kept me out of the loop and in the dark about the progress of the case of Bloody Wisteria, the creepy apartment I'm living in that has become the source of sensation on Bartholomew Riggs a.k.a. Bart and his nightwatch team's bizarre death, as well as the mysterious disappearance deaths of many a young child here.

Since they found evidence to suggest that it was Detective Mason Harrigon who had slayed and committed all these crimes, they decided to throw the book on him almost immediately and wrote it off as case closed, barring any more further investigations that might tarnish one of their own.

I, for one, am not convinced.

Things couldn't have been that simple.

I'll admit that Detective Harrigon was very into this case and put most of his own man power and hours into it to almost the point of obsession, but it seems to me that he was doing this to catch the bad guy, not being the bad guy.

I have a feeling he was being framed, and was murdered for it to cover their tracks.

But by whom? Who could be sinister enough to do such a thing?

Come to think of it, the only other person more or less in speaking terms with Detective Harrigon was our fix-it guy George.

Maybe that kid might know something we don't.

I suppose I could drop by that kid's place for a while and find out some clues. Maybe even provide me with some new material for the case I'm writing on. I heard George wasn't much of a people person and kept to himself (or herself, can't really tell, actually), but a journalist's gotta do what a journalist's gotta do.

Ted, signing off.

You're talking to me…

You're finally talking to me…

I can see you smile at me…

So scary…

So menacing…

Yet…so inviting…

What's that, you say…?

You want me to come with you?

Why should I? Why should I believe you?

Why should I follow you…after all you've done to me?

You've taken my Pops away.

You've taken my Momma away.

You've taken my Jan away.

You've taken everything and everyone that meant something to me, so why should I…


Yes…I want answers…

Yes…I want to know…

Why me?

Who am I?

What am I?



I'll go…

For the sake of the truth…

I'll go…

Show me what you got.

I think I get it.

I think I get you now.

I think I know why I'm here, why I exist.

I exist because you exist, but at the same time, you need me to continue existing.
I was your proxy, your Tulpa Paradox.

Ain't that a cool word I just made up? Tulpa Paradox.

I exist because you used a medium, a direct proxy, to create me, and yet by creating me, you ensured your continued existence.

I'm born to make sure that you would never be forgotten, that your power will continue to reign through me and flourish wherever I go, and wherever I take you to.

In other words, you're indirectly my Pops by surrogate, kinda.

I remember now…

I remember things I shouldn't, wouldn't want to, remember…

I remember seeing you peeking through the windows with that slight tilt of your head.

I remember seeing you watching me from afar, from beyond the trees.

I remember you coming to me, going down on bended knee to pat me in the head before disappearing right before me in the blink of an eye.

I remember…I remember that incident where Jan didn't accompany me to school for the first time and that fight I had…

Oh god, why are you making me remember it…?

I don't even want to talk about it, let alone think about it!

So much anger, so much fury, so much darkness inside me…

I remember…

That guy I beat up…

He said something about Pops.

He said I was a bastard child and Momma was a whore or something.

He said I may not even be Pops' real kid and that's why he left Momma.

And I just snapped.

Jan wasn't there, and there was no one to hold me back when I snapped.

So much rage…

So much blood…

Last thing I remember was everyone looking at me in horror.

They were looking at my face, and I turned to the reflective surface of the locker to see…


No face…

I couldn't remember seeing my face…

I saw blood splatters and blotches all over my cheeks…

But I didn't have a face…!


No, stop!! Don't make me remember this!!

I don't want to remember this!! No one was supposed to know! I don't want my readers to know! I told them they're better off not knowing about the incident! Why are you making me remember this?! Why are you even making me write this?!





Momma was right.

She was right all along.

I shouldn't even exist. I'm an abomination that shouldn't even be on this earth. I shouldn't.

She was right, I am a monster.

Your monster.

You didn't have to do that…

Slender, you really shouldn't have done that…

They've only just pissed me off a little bit…You didn't have to…

And Harrigon…

What have you done with Harrigon…?

Wasn't it enough that you made him your scapegoat?

Wasn't it enough that you made him think that he was going crazy, that he thought he was the one who skewered Bart and his posse and the kids and the baby…?

Wasn't it enough that you're driven him insane and made him so marked you'd find him in a milk carton?

Why did you have to…?

Why did you have to kill him?

Why did you have to kill him and those old cronies who pissed me off? They've done nothing wrong!

Well, maybe they did, but not Harrigon! He was just doing his goddamn job!

You think his investigation would lead him to me? He's got nothing on me! I didn't do anything! You did! You killed all those guys and all evidence points towards you, not me! He doesn't even believe you exist!

Why did you have to kill him, like you killed Jan?



Harrigon has gone missing.

Ted told me that he wanted to do a follow-up on the skewered bodies case and went to the police station, but he wasn't there.

In fact, no one has seen him for about a week now.

No phone calls, no messages, no note, nothing.

He wasn't even in his house, the last time his partner checked.


What did you do?

Been reading up more about you, not that you don't know what you can already read inside my mind anyways while I type this.

This Slender guru is pretty informative. She seems to have done a lot of research on you to be able to write this.

Have you two met?

I bet you have, or she wouldn't know so much about you.

She wouldn't read up on you and research extensively on you to promote you and inform about you in her blog just for shits and giggles.


She said you were originally an idea. A fictional just-for-fun monster made by a guy who had too much time in his hand and wanted to scare people in a measly contest, then somehow brought to life due to what she calls the Tulpa Effect, the—as I quote from her—"the concept of a being as object which is created through sheer willpower alone. It is materialized thought that has taken physical form and is usually regarded as synonymous to a thoughtform".

In plain English, you exist because we made you exist.

So if we don't believe you exist, will you vanish into thin air?

Will you disappear into oblivion?

Will I disappear into oblivion?

Which makes me kinda wonder…

Did Victor Surge really create you?

Or have you always existed all along, like what some of this Slender guru dug up about references of monsters that resemble you in the Dark Ages?

Have you always been around Victor all along and he's just spreading you around, like what you're making me do right now?

Am I your monster…or are you mine?

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