Proxy Mobile Post 74/96 Chapter 12 part four

The Runner Hospital

I.

Off of the train, dripping blood from my face where I go, flashlight drawn in my hand like a sword, hood pulled over my face, I find the station awfully quiet. No one is there. No one is there but me. No one is there but me and Blind Man.

"Blind Man," I spoke.

"Billy. Or is it... noblogger?." He asked.

"We meet again," I noted.

"It's been a long time."

He stepped forward. I did not move.

"You know why I am here." He uttered.

"The Greatest Game," I whispered.

"Mhm," he nodded.

"Does it really exist? I heard it was a myth." I remarked.

"It will soon. And you're going to start it." He boomed.

"I've seen enough bloodshed. Why should I listen to you?" I inquired.

"Because I know what happened to Masky."

II.

Masky is being kept in the Runner Hospital. The Runners are experimenting on him, hoping to find out who he's a proxy for. The Runner leading the experiments is a name I recognize: Dr, Obama. The very same whose 1975 postulations caused massive governmental coverups. How far does this go? What is the role of the Obamas in this taunting masquerade?

Blind Man told me all of this that night. If I want, I can stop by the hospital on my way to the Pentagon. Whether I save Masky or kill him is up to me.

Masky...

III.

"Before you go..." Blind Man bellowed.

"What is it?" I sought, already on my way out of the subway station.

"You know as well as I do that I have been instructed to kill you." He implied.

"By whom?" I gestured.

"I swore never to tell," he moaned.

I turned to face him. "Look me in the eye and say that to my face," I threatened.

"Enough! We fight!" He shouted.

He threw a fist, and I grabbed it and turned it right back to him. Every punch he threw, I turned right back to him. I shined my flashlight in his face to startle him, and then I hit him in the head with it. Soon enough, he was lying on the ground, choking on his own blood.

"Who ordered you to kill me?!" I said.

"Heh... heh heh heh... who do you think?" He died, and I was alone again in the subway station.

"Curse you..." I shook my fist. I needed to calm down. These emotions were unlike me, I needed to be ready.

Ready... to find Masky...

(TO BE CONTINUED)

Proxy Mobile Post (73/96) Chapter 12 part three

Riding the subway, there's little to do but think and be pensive.

How many Slendermen will be waiting for me when I get off?
What trials from which underworlds in whose songs?

Steadily, I reach for my face. The woman across from me on the train glances at me.

What is the meaning of Masky's intrusions upon my web log?
The Feared One mentioned his name to me.

I grab my face. People are starting to stare.

The Feared One... he told me he was the Slenderman.
Have I been working for the Slenderman all this time?

My hands clench and I bypass the part of my brain that wants the pain to stop. I feel someone grab my shoulder.

But what about the Obamas?

Crunch. I break my face.
The people around me scream as I remove my hands-- my cheeks have gaping holes through which my teeth grit, my nose isn't where it should be, blood has blinded my eyes.

I say, to no one, "My transformation is complete."

And then I get off the train.

Proxy Mobile Post (72/96) Chapter 12 part two

The subway station, covered in all sorts of graffiti, had seen better days and far better nights. It was packed full of people. How was I ever going to make it through?

I tried pushing myself through the crowds. but I only made it to the turnstiles by blind luck. Now my time has come to find out just what kind of proxy I am, as there ready to check tickets is none other than The Constant Wanderer, an androgyne with eyepatch and all the other Slendermen on speed dial.

"Ticket, please" said they.

"Sure, here you go" I said, handing them the ticket, trying not to make eye contact.

"Hmmm...." they said, looking at me carefully.

"What's wrong? Don't hold up the line!" Shouted an angry man behind me.

The Constant Wanderer ignored them, reached into their pocket, and pulled out a radio. "Calling all Slendermen: I've got him."

So I leapfrogged over the turnstile and made a mad dash for the nearest train, The Constant Wanderer in hot pursuit. They nearly got me, but I dove to the floor and crawled under some crowds, confusing them. By the time they found me again, I was on a train and the doors were closing.

But they definitely clocked me. They called the other Slendermen. I'm a wanted man.

Proxy Mobile Post (71/96) Chapter 12 part one

If I wanted to kill alliterator, I had only one chance: Do it tonight, or don't do it at all. The Feared One would consider me an outcast, and I'd never see my friends in that apartment complex again. Such was fate, of course, should it come to that, but I had other plans.

I'm lost now in the undergrowth of Downtown. The sun left us behind an hour ago, now manmade light at night (which is very bright) illustrates the streets. America the Free, you are not while I am here. On my left, I watch a man and a woman climb into a taxi and drive off into the night. On my right, some kids in hoods walk out of a dim door and snort coke out of each others' hands. A police officer walks by them, oblivious, then sees me and points.

I run.

He gives chase.

I climb some stairs and duck into a store. I hear his footsteps run past the door. I think I'm safe. I look around the store and see, plastered along the walls like fairy trophies, the stuffed heads of various exotic animals. The man, presumably the one who owns the store, is there behind a counter looking at me. He expects me to buy something.

"Hey, what is this place?" I say to him.

"This is what we call Shady Cross Paths, son."

"Watch it, I sure am not your son!" I roar.

"Whoa" he said. I made things awkward, so I leave.

But right outside that door is the police officer, preparing his nightstick!

"Why were you running from me? This isn't a nightstick, this is a flashlight I have been instructed to give you. And those children weren't snorting coke, they were eating sugar!"

I took the flashlight, thanked him, and went on towards the subway station, confidence regained.