Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Tried to get away. Didn't take. -/|\- The Missing Hours: 14 - 7 -/|\- the Missing Hours: Final 6 hours

I tried to get away.

I'm not some hero, and I don't have a dog in this fight. When I started driving up to Buffalo to verify the leftover Missing Hour posts, I realized I wanted out. I wanted out right the hell now. Getting acquainted with "Nick" and his "Friends" (IE: You guys) and your blogs was possibly the creepiest thing I've dealt with in some time. Yes, I've heard stories of the "Fears" and similar entities. They're up there on the list of things you do not fuck with, and about 99.9% of people worldwide will never, ever have to worry about them. If you know about them, you don't even say their names out loud, in case doing so attracts their attention. Like I said though, for most people the Fears are purely academic.

Not for "Nick" though, and now I'm stuck in the middle of this.

I stopped for gas at the same gas station that the whole "Missing Hours" debacle began. I know this because when the guy was filling my tank, he said:

"I should go into Sticky Note delivery. More money well earned."

And he handed me the stack. The top sticky note said:

"You wouldn't happen to be thinking of running, would you?"

I reached into my glove box to pull out my lighter from when I smoked. On top of it was another sticky note that said:

"Read the damn stack."

That got my attention.

I said to the stack, "Well, I was thinking about it."

I tore off the top sticky, "Don't."

I said, "Look, it was nice to find out who he really was, but this is out of my league. I'm no hero."

I tore off the top sticky, "You want to watch Nick, me, and everyone else die? Go ahead."

"Fuck you."

"You are cute. I'll think about it."

"Go to hell you son of a bitch!"

I looked up at the guy who was pumping gas. He was giving me a weird look.

I said, "Haven't you ever seen someone talk to a bunch of sticky notes before?"

He shook his head slowly. I shut up, handed him his money, and tore off the top note to reveal the final message:

"Stay on the case. Or else."

I really hate Time Lord.

Incidentally, does anyone know what "-/|\-" means? "Nick" uses it for all his breaks between segments, and I still don't know what it means. In any case, here are the rest of the Missing Hours information, with edits where necessary. I did some poking about in Buffalo during the last week or so. Found a lot of things you wouldn't expect.

For those of you who need a refresher:

1st: 5 of the Missing 29 Hours
2nd: Hours 24 - 20
3rd: Hours 19 - 15

This took MUCH longer than I thought. There were complications. I'll explain later.


The Missing Hours: 14 - 7

Hours 14 to 7. I'd love to say some kind of action packed extravaganza occurred, but no. For the most part, me and Weaver spent that time trying to sleep. I was an arrogant fucker, wasn't I? We'd kicked Crouching Tiger the fuck out, I felt like I was some kind of badass. And I was tired and filled with the wrath of almost an entire day of migraine.

(Editor's note: Okay. Something is seriously wrong with this post, AND Hours 19 - 15. If this post was written during the time frame I had it in, then that would mean that Nick knew Crouching Tiger was referred to as Crouching Tiger. Crouching Tiger didn't actually appear on any of the blogs for at least two months after this incident. Maybe Nick just updated it when he reposted it? That seems unlike him somehow.)
I didn't sleep peacefully. I remember walking down the streets of Philadelphia with an old revolver and a leather duster with cowboy hat. The streets faded, and I was in The Desert again. The Desert faded, and I saw Tallsuit McMotherfucker. He faded, and I saw myself in the mirror. I looked like I did when my astral form was female briefly.

(Editor's note: This is obviously before he found out that it's always been Female. Except that it hasn't. That one is something of an odd story that you probably already are aware of.)

Me and this female me pointed our guns at each other. And suddenly I WAS her, and I shot the real me down. And now I was this woman walking along, and then I heard Weaver.

She said, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...Wake up!"

I woke up, and felt Weaver rushing me away from the bed. I complied as best I could, banging my head against the bedpost on my way out of it.

Weaver said, "Guys with guns outside. Lots of them!"

I said blearily, "The Police?"

"The police don't wear suits and carry submachine guns!"

That woke me up. We grabbed our stuff and ran for it.

(Editor's Note: Finding the hotel they stayed in wasn't hard. I just had to find the only hotel in town with a manager who'd had his brain brutally fucked in. "Nick" might not tell you this, but he's always been something of a joke with the mental manipulation aspect of things. Me, not so much. I checked room 215, I checked local police records, and I checked with the staff. Apparently, the US Secret Service was looking for counterfeiters. I believe that about as much as I believe in Santa Claus.)


The Missing Hours: The Final 6 Hours

There comes a moment, when you realize how absolutely fucked you are. Me and Weaver were running through a hallway, trying to come up with a way out, we heard the door to the outside of our motel room quietly open as we tried to vacate the fuck out, and then had the joy to round the corner to the stair well, where I saw a guy slowly starting to look up to the top of it as we started to go down it. Weaver was more alert than me, and smart enough to pull me out of his sight. So we were standing at the top of this stairwell in a crappy motel, effectively surrounded on all sides, completely unarmed.

Ladies and Gentlemen, your hero, right before he decides to do something completely fucking stupid.

I whispered to Weaver, "Listen. I'll be back. TRUST me. Just remember to put some shell casings under your pillow. The Reinforcement Fairy comes to all little boys and little girls who have big fucking enemies that need a whuppin."

She had just enough time to say, "Whaaaaa-?"

Then I had leaped over the railing and onto the guy coming up the stairs. My weight, plus the impact of his head against the stairs, meant one unconscious gun-toting asshole. And then I was face-to-face with Mastermind.

(Editor's Note: The timing of this feels strange. The guy sits at the bottom of the stairwell looking up. Weaver pulls Nick out of his line of sight. WHY does stairwell guy wait so long? And how did he not hear any whispering? There's a Flatscreen TV near the Manager's Desk, which is near the Stairwell, which as near as I can tell the Manager watches pretty damn near all the time. It might have covered the noise? Distracted him while it was at it? That's my guess on the time lapse.)

He reached for his gun, I threw an elbow into his face and spun him around. Suddenly, we weren't fighting anymore. What was happening now was that I had a hostage in a chokehold as two other men in suits with guns in the lobby pointed them right at me. I don't even remember HOW I got him into that hold so quickly, but I did. I finished drawing Mastermind's gun from behind him, and jammed it into his side and said:

"One wrong move, and douchey gets it."

So. Picturing this scene: A bunch of suit wearing assholes with guns aiming at me and shouting for me to put my weapon down as I hold the key to this ENTIRE fucking thing hostage, as Weaver scampers down the stairs behind me.

I say to her, "You heard me. Get out of here."

She just gives me this look, taking a moment to marvel at the scene, and think about what action movie I had jumped out of. I have to admit, I was feeling nervous as hell, but pretty good about myself.

She started to say, "I'm not going to-"

I cut her off, "Shut up. Go."

(Editor's note: "Nick" does a shitty job of describing how this must have worked. Then again, like everything else saved on this blogger, this appears to be a first draft. After examining the Motel where this happened, Here's how things probably worked. If "Nick" was standing in the doorway to the stairwell, there would be a partition that would have kept the gunmen from seeing Weaver behind him. There was a back door just a little ways from said partition. "Nick" tried his best to keep everyone who showed up on this blog anonymous, but if Weaver is who I think she is, she's short enough, and "Nick" with a hostage is big enough, that their bodies could screen her until the point that she was about to exit out this back door. The gunmen couldn't have threatened her until AFTER she was gone. And gods know they must have been focused on "Nick.")

The Assholes start to point their guns at Weaver for a brief moment as she headed out the door, and tried to fire off a shot at them. I pointed MY gun at them for long enough to distract them, and then back at Mastermind.

Mastermind said, "Well, this is a surprising turn of events."

And I had just enough time to realize EXACTLY who Mastermind was. Having experienced that revelation again recently, I can tell you, it sucks doing it twice. There is only ONE reason I did not immediately jam the gun into him and unload the clip in the most violent and brutal fashion that I could manage.

The safety was on.

Mastermind stomped on my foot, pulled it out of my hand, and kicked me in the face. For an old guy, he's an awfully spry motherfucker.

And this is where the story should end. I should be shot dead or executed in a backroom by Mastermind and his goons. I shouldn't be talking to you now. But that's when I got lucky as fuck all.

Between the Jersey Devil, the Slender Man, and everything else I've run into over the years, this was bound to happen sooner or later. But the next thing I know, we're knee deep in Giant Mantis trying to pierce the Veil and tear us all to shreds. Mastermind's a canny operator, and loves him some Necromancy I think, because the spirits of the dead started swarming them. Mastermind's men formed up around us, and pulled out salt packets. In seconds, we were in a circle of protection.

And with that, Green Lady entered the room. You don't know her, because I haven't talked about her. You see, Green Man has a sister. And she is a manipulative, nasty, murderous bitch when she wants to be.

Her exact words were: "I'm here for what I'm owed, (Mastermind.)"

And then the world was an explosion of pain and light.

(Editor's note: I've been held up for so long because I was the Green Lady's prisoner for a few days. I'll tell you all about that in a little while. For now...lets say that he's not lying about how much of a bitch she is and leave it at that. She ripped the veil, time, and space a new one. My bet as to how "Nick" ended up back at his apartment? Because Time Lord was watching, and pulled his friend out of trouble. Beyond that, I'm still investigating.

So far, there are three factions in all of this: The Proxies, Mastermind, and Green Lady. I'll have something more concrete for you soon. After I've healed up a little.)


  1. Every time it looks like we're getting answers, it just brings up more questions.
    Do you have any news on Nick?

  2. Well that was an enjoyable story. It would be nice if I UNDERSTOOD any of it, but hey, you win some you lose some.

    Oh, and Nick, for when you get back? Seems you're a pretty crap writer when you don't take the time to edit. Awfully convenient that you left us drafts, but try and spit it out in a more elegant manner in the future, hmmmm? <3

  3. I figure the -/|\- thing represents turning a page. First it's horizontal, then it gets lifted to vertical and drops back to horizontal the other way. But that's just a guess.

  4. You'd be amazed how often underlings stand a safe distance away from you while you discuss your plans to defeat said underlings with someone, even without a flatscreen TV to distract them. Just one of those quirks of life.

  5. I'd love to know more about the sides some time.