So, I was casually browsing the internet on my rooftop when suddenly, Sports Cap Guy attacked me. He had this large pocket knife of sorts and he was running towards me. Now I noticed he had a skin-colored balaclava on his head as well. Like I told you, I had defense measures to use. I bought a gun. I shot the guy. Boom. Boom. That was it. He let out a muffled scream, and I didn't hit any of his vital organs. One shot hit his shoulder and the other one missed (I found it in a wall on the rooftop). He dropped his knife and ran down the stairs. I followed. And bam. There He stood. The Construct himself. I have no fucking idea how he got there. The height thing didn't work. And I was on a fucking 14-story building. My gun still had some rounds in it so I fired at him. Didn't work. Just pissed him off. I woke up in the middle of a fucking wooded park. It was about half an hour walking away from my building. The trees looked exceptionally dark and malicious. I never remembered myself running that fast. I wanted to get to my rooftop and get my stuff. Soon after I found out it was a trap. Seems Slendy dropped me off at the park so he can have time for others to regroup. The Rake, Eracis, Sports Cap Guy, Slendy, and a handful of other balaclava-wearing people were there. All staring at me. Two of the other people rushed at me, gave me a kick to the stomach and knocked me down to the floor. Then, they held me firmly down. I was starting to hear fucking whispers. In my head. I don't know what language it was, but it filled me with a sense of dread. It was Him of course. Did you ever feel so desperate your whole body just felt like screaming? And you felt so, so warm you wanted to go insane? That was what the whispers did to me. It fucked with my head. Making me see things. I saw Joe dead. My parents dying. My dog getting torn apart by some creatures. All my friends standing in line to die a horrible death. I almost believed it to be real. This is how He kills. He doesn't rip people apart with his tentacles. He makes them kill themselves. It hurts more that way. And then I was Him. I saw it. I saw a young woman reading a book, only to look at Him and run in terror. Then the scene changed. The woman was running and screaming. From Him. It changed again. The woman had a hunting rifle now. She laughed as she pointed it at Him. She shot once. She shot twice. He didn't even feel it. Scene change. The woman was looking at Him from the edge of a skyscraper. She was mad, laughing hysterically. Slowly her body was swallowed by the abyss, only to crash into a taxi 200 meters down. I was now shifted back to reality, but in his point of view. I felt Him getting closer. I was Him, and He was me. It was fucked up. It hurt. I saw myself clinched by his Agents,, looking so fucked up, so miserable, so pathetic. He felt pity. And he felt joy. Excitement. I tried to make him go away, but he wouldn't budge. I understood, he was going to make somoene kill me, or hurt me, and he wanted me to watch. I saw the man with the sports cap approaching, his shoulder bandaged. he had his knife back. He tore my shirt apart, and used the knife as a pen. Suddenly, the perspective shifted, and my head burst with pain (or his head, I felt it nonetheless). The man was writing something, and it hurt me. I watched myself scream in helpless agony, knowing I couldn't escape. He wrote the exact copy of the poem posted on my blog. After finishing, he took a bottle of what appeared to be whiskey and spilled it all over my back. It hurt like a motherfucker, it burned. I felt the letters hurt. Then he proceeded to whisper on my ear: 'We could have stayed friends Jon, like we were all these years'. I blacked out again. I found myself back on the rooftop, in the very same place the poem was carved into my back. I didn't go into the ER. I think they purged the wound with that whiskey. At least now I know who the man with the balaclava is. I think it's Joseph.
It matches what The Seventh said. And yes, motherfucker, you could have made everything easier if you just told me the truth in the beginning. Here are my questions for you:
1. You said something about your companions. Who are they?
2. Why can you answer my questions only three times or whatever?
3. What does the prophecy exactly say?
4. Who is The Rake?
5. Who are you exactly?
6. Can He be killed?
7. How do I hide from all of His Agents and Him?
There, seven burning questions for The Seventh. Be quick.
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