Not dead, just dying

So my professors must have met secretly and conspired against their students, because I am currently stuck under a mountain of research projects (Science) essays (english) practically a short story project based on a what if scenario (history) and... quadratic functions and all their nasty cousins (Math). I'm just typing this up quickly to let you all know that no, I'm not dead (somehow) and that it'll be a while before I update again. a long while.
and before you start blaming me, I got all of this all at once, so no procrastination was involved.
...

okay, maybe a slight amount was involved.

until I'm free,

Pandora

Falling down the rabbit hole

Alright, before I can explain to you just how panicked I am now, you must understand just how paranoid I've been as of late. My college campus has around three redheads- including myself, that makes four. Now, Lucius has made it quite clear that he goes after redhead girls (Which doesn't nothing to help my paranoia) so I've decided to keep an eye on my fellow minority girls.

One of them has gone missing.

I asked Lucius about it (K's been sick, so I've taken the time to keep her updated on what happens in our shared class- those conversations don't stay on schoolwork long) and he simply gave me a grin.

There is little doubt in my mind that she's now dead, or wishing she was.

as much as you may scream at me to go to the police, I simply cannot. I cannot incarcerate the host of a serial killer who is already dead knowing full well she herself is innocent.
In short, the moment Satan's friend turned on him was the moment he was granted immunity from the law.
I wish I could say I had a viable solution to this, but honestly, what authority figure would believe the inane ramblings of a college student on Souls and Possession and a serial killer that's evaded the law of two countries (he started over in the UK) since the tender age of seven?

nobody would believe me. even I have a hard time believing the world I have landed myself in is reality and not just some coma-induced hallucination.

I, hypocrite.

I know I've said before that I'm not really one for labels and titles, but one cannot express the sort of conflict I feel with abstract descriptions of behavior, so I'll just say it outright-

It's hard to be comfortable with yourself when you're a Hybristophile Feminist who knows the s**t she's getting into, and just doesn't give a damn (and yet I'm always screaming at the poor victims of horror movies to act a little smarter...)
I may as well be the embodiment of hypocrisy.

On another note...

Dementia's GONE.

as in, poof.

vanished.

I have raked (good lord that was a poor choice of verb) up every inch of my brain and come up empty-

HEY. I'm still here!

... sorry, Minerva.

and while K reports that Dementia had dropped in for a while (possibly to terrorize Satan... though whether it be in violence or just nagging him to f**k her, I'm left in the dark about) but then she skipped out of that body too.

Oh, and Lucius' last name.
It's D'Angelo.

is my life turning into some sort of cheep Horror/romance novel?

Uh... Thor 2 was great.

Went to see Thor 2 with K. She loved every second that Loki was onscreen. I thought he was more sarcastic than usual, but that's just me.
don't expect spoilers from me, but I'll give you this-
not everything in that movie is what it seems.

I know this is a personal post, but I consider this a personal blog, so...

Fragment

(This is the first part of Chapter 1. My chapters tend to be on the lengthy side- sorry.
Oh, and it's from Jeff's POV. Because for some reason, I think I can insert myself into the mind of a Creepypasta/ Serial Killer with no ill effects.)

I watched her slip out the window, a shadow in a world of shadows. It was clear that she had done this a thousand times, from the way she fell on her feet lightly without a single wobble to the way she started off immediately in one direction, no doubt in her posture or movements. She was dressed in all black, which made it slightly difficult to track her as she wandered down the dark street and ducked into a pitch-black alleyway. Well, pitch black for anyone but a Creepypasta, but that was because we were the denizens of the night. The darkness was our home, our shelter. It welcomed us with the warmth of a mother greeting her child. I moved within the shadows, allowing them to embrace me in a way that no human would ever know. No human, it seemed, but her. The shadows welcomed her eagerly, and I could almost feel their bloodlust. She was up to no good- but then again, none who embraced the night so eagerly were ever up to something good, unless you lived in Gotham City and knew the Batman. 

Thinking of the comics I used to love as a kid brought back memories. Play out front in the street with my brother, Liu- he would be Batman, I would be the Joker. Sometimes the girl next door would join in as Catwoman. We all loved the comics; it made playing that much more fun. Though, now that I thought about it, I often got carried away. Even as a little kid, I’d had a sadistic streak. Nowadays, though, it assimilated itself as the feeling- an unbeatable urge to rip someones throat out and bathe in their blood. The high I got from killing was unrivaled by any drug, alcohol included. It was a rush that I couldn’t get enough of. But this girl… while I’d had the original intention of killing her, her behavior fascinated me. I was curious- what would a teenage girl from an orphanage be doing out and about at eleven at night, wandering down streets in dark but somewhat revealing clothes?

She was pretty in a plain way- pale skin, almost as pale as mine, which had evidently been kissed by more moonlight than sunlight. Her hair was long, dark, and thick, tied back in a braid that ended just below her shoulder blades. Even though she wore fingerless gloves, I could tell that her hands were calloused- evidently, she did a lot of manual labor. She walked with purpose, in a way that made the few men out and about stop and stare. She wasn’t physically pretty, no- but her very presence was powerful. This was a girl who knew who she was, a strutting peacock flaring its feathers. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

One of the men, a tall but rather round one who had been staggering out of a bar with a group of what seemed to be his friends, noticed her walking by and, with an eagerness rivaled only by me, broke away from his protesting buddies and followed her as she turned the corner into a dark, dead-end alley.

“Hey, li’l la’y, wha’ ya doin’ in a pla’ li’ thi’…” He slurred. She turned to face him, and that’s when I caught her eyes- a dark, bottomless blue, a kind of blue one would usually find in a pair of colored contacts. But she was an orphan- there was no way she’d be able to get her hands on some colored contacts…

Her eyes triggered another memory- I used to have those eyes. Big, blue eyes that had girls falling over me in middle school. ‘They like blue eyes. You’re lucky- my eyes are the color of mud.’ Liu would often tell me. I didn’t see it; but it didn’t matter anymore. My eyes were as black as the shadows that I lived in, a void that swallowed everything they scanned. The whites of my eyes had long gone red with irritation, and even now the burning from exposure was only just bearable.

The drunkard moved closer, and suddenly there was a shift in the way the girl stood- she became a little less proud, her back slumping slightly and her legs bending at the knees, classic signs of fright and submission. The man instinctively saw it, and lunged, his hand reaching for her breasts-

But, quick as a flash, the girl raised her own hand, parrying him away, and used his momentum to swing him past her, into a pile of filthy trash cans.

“Rape is not acceptable in any situation. I should kill you for trying to touch me.” She said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was harsh and filled with unwavering cruelty. Her eyes flashed with violence. The drunkard picked himself up out of the heap of crap and gave her a similar look, before charging again. This time, she let him overtake her, and he fell onto her and immediately, clumsily set to work taking off her clothes. She did nothing save reach into her front pocket and drew out a knife; and as he set to work massaging her breasts, she held it to his throat.

“You know, I was thinking of letting you live. But seeing as you’re not going to stop, not going to listen to the voice of reason screaming in your head to stop, I think I’ll have to kill you.” And in one movement, her knife sunk into the side of his neck, penetrating his Jugular between his spine and his windpipe. It was evident from the way he froze and the way he started gargling on his own blood that she had managed to hit all three vital points, with one stab. Grunting with the effort, she pulled out her knife and was instantly coated in the blood that sprayed from his neck. She waited, patiently, becoming more and more drenched in the mans blood as he took forever to die. When he did stop breathing, she wiggled out from underneath him and, with a strength that no teenage girl should have, effortlessly picked him up and unceremoniously dumped him in a trashcan.

His friends came running around the corner just as she finished cleaning up and immediately noticed that a) she was covered in blood, and b) their friend was nowhere to be seen. Putting two and two together was not difficult for them. “What the fuck did you do to Bill?” One of them demanded.

The girl looked at them with a bored expression. “I put the trash out. I’m surprised you didn’t ever correct this sort of disgusting behavior. Actually… I’m not. I’m sure you also participated- after all, you are all disgusting males with no sense of self-control.”
Two of the three advanced in anger. The third, who was obviously both the scared one and the sane one, got out his phone and dialed 911. “Get me the police- my friend’s just been murdered by a psycho girl!”

The girl, meanwhile, put away her knife and charged towards one of the alleyway walls, effortlessly running up it and gripping at the bottom rung of the fire escape. She wasted no time pulling herself up the ladder while the two men worked as a team to follow her, one lifting the other up to catch the ladder. The one that was up turned to pull his buddy up, but he shook his head. “I’ll slow you down- look, she’s getting away! You’re wasting time- I’ll give the police a description.” Satisfied, the more agile one set off after the girl, who had managed to get to the roof. I followed. I was an observer, not an accomplice- I wanted to see what she would do in the event of being chased by the police.

I was impressed, initially, by her endurance- obviously she wasn’t one of those girls who just sat behind a computer all day and did nothing in the way of athletics. This girl leaped from roof to roof, hopping over obstacles or using them to her advantage. There was little doubt that she lost the man in the first few minutes of the chase, after she got on top of a door that admitted people onto the roof and used the height to get herself to the lower but farther roof across from her. Without the height, I doubt she would have made it; thing was, she landed crooked, and I heard her cry out in pain as her ankle contorted gruesomely. It was broken, without a doubt. Her pursuer didn’t notice that she was on the other roof; the wall that would have protected idiots on the roof from simply walking off the edge hid her from view as she crouched low and tried to twist her ankle back into place, biting on her bottom lip so hard it drew blood as she tried to keep from screaming.

I perched myself nearby, on the wall, and watched. The two of them didn’t see me, since the shadows clung to my form and made me just another part of the night. In short, if I didn’t want them to see me, they didn’t. It was as simple as that.

I fully expected her to get up and get moving the moment she knew her pursuer had lost her. I didn’t expect a… colleague… to intervene.

As usual, his entrance leaned towards dramatic- the mist, the sudden drop in the temperature, the shadows growing. And then he appeared. Tall, thin, wearing that stupid suit of his.

Slendy.

What? I’ve got no respect for the guy. He possesses mundanes and uses them to do his dirty work. That’s what a coward does. And besides, he’s on the opposite side of the war. He and Zalgo had been fighting it out for ages, Zalgo with real ‘Pastas and Slendy with his Proxies.

Wait… proxies…

This girl was a fucking Proxy?!

Slendy knelt next to her, causing her to scoot away and shoot him a dirty look.

“Oh, now you come. I was wondering if you had forgotten about me. Though it would make sense you wouldn’t give me further instructions until my mission was complete.” She hissed. Slendy, as usual, didn’t reply, instead wrapping a hand around her foot. She briefly cried out, but when he removed his hand the foot was back in place, with no sign that it had ever been twisted.

“What are my orders?” She asked. A tentacle grew from his back and touched her forehead. Her eyes glazed over, her face contorting in a frown. Then the moment was over; the tentacle briefly brushed a loose hair out of her face before retracting into his back.

“I don’t understand. The power, the self-control… why did you give me this? Why me?” She asked as he turned to leave. He paused, momentarily, before turning around to face her and touching her forehead with another tentacle.

“That’s not an answer. But if you insist on being vague, I suppose I cannot argue. I am a tool, after all- nothing more.” She did not say this with resignation, but with a power, a bite that would have made most mortal men recoil. This dog, it seemed, was on a very thick leash, and for good reason. Her eyes burned with a fire that drew me as a moth would be drawn to a flame. Who was this girl, a girl who could have such an attitude with a creature that many worshipped as a god, and for good reason?

The tentacle retracted. Slendy made no move to hurt her for her insolence. Instead he retreated into the fog, disappearing.

“Asshole.” She muttered, before looking straight at me.

“I can see you.”

That simple sentence nearly made me fall off the wall. And that would have been a very long way down. Not to mention Jack would have cracked jokes about it for ages if he caught wind of it.

“N…no you can’t… that’s impossible…” I stuttered, stunned.

“Apparently the impossible happens on a daily basis. If you’re not going to kill me, would you at least stop stalking me?” She got up from her hiding spot just as I caught the sound of police sirens.

“No can do, dollface. You’re interesting, for a Proxy.” I admitted with a smirk. She rolled her eyes.

“It’s Rosa. Now piss off.”

That made me mad. “Do you want me to fucking end you?”

“Go ahead. I’ve beaten a few Pastas. They were mostly minor ones, though. I don’t think I’d be able to win a fight with Jeff the Killer. You’d be too strong.” She started for the wall, analyzing the alleyway that laid below it, before hopping over it. With the grace and skill of a gymnast, she managed to hop on the windowsills and land safely. I simply fell, not wanting any theatrics. Falling like this wouldn’t hurt me- very little in the way of simple physics could hurt me. Unless it was a ‘Pasta using those physics against me. Then I’d be screwed.

I landed in a roll and took off after her. She hadn’t wasted any time to sprint off, in an effort to get away from me. As the cop cars turned the street corner, however, she ducked into another alleyway, which fed onto another street.

Thing was, she wasn’t headed back to the orphanage. She was heading away from it.

“Where the hell are you going? You don’t wander when the big players are out and about, you know! Not all of them are as generous as I am, you know!” I called after her. She didn’t listen; there were more men on this street, so she once again threw up the ‘I’m the best bitch in town and I know it’ façade. Which was starting to piss me off more than intrigue me. All eyes turned to face her- men in lust and interest, women in jealousy. It was surprising that someone so plain could hold so much attention. 

(So yeah, comment if you want to. I'm interested in what you guys have to say.)

Uh Oh

Satan's old buddy. remember him? the one who killed him?

Turns out he just transferred to my school.

And he's in one of K's classes!

To add insult to injury, it appears that he's started to hit on K (Who, if any of you need a refresher, Satan is currently inhabiting.)

If things turn out the way I foresee, I may need to become a meat shield within the next few weeks. Because once he finds out his old friend isn't technically dead, he may decide he wants to finish the job.

And I'm really attached to K.

WhatdoIdoWhatDoIDOWHATDOITDO

HELP

GET CONTROL OF YOURSELF!

I second that! You're worse than me!

 ...That really is bad.

ButstillwhatdoIdoIdon'tknowwhattodo!!!!!

SHUT UP AND GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF.

calm down and rethink your priorities- like, for example, this--

was it really wise to get attached to someone with MPD which just happened to actually be her being possessed by a bunch or people who were already DEAD? 

No... 

Case closed. You must get over your infatuation and see the bigger picture.

But I... I can't...

What sort of logic is preventing you from cutting ties with this woman?

Minerva, You're not Spock. I'm not Spock. This isn't just logic- this is emotion, something I've been trying and failing to suppress in favor of logic and just gave up on ever succeeding. And now I have a reason to hold onto those emotions... but it might be taken away from me in one fell swoop.

I... can't do this. I'm sorry guys, but this is everything for today.
I'll post the fragment of my story tomorrow. I Promise.

SO I'm thinking about doing something idiotic...

Just a question-

If I posted a fragment from a Fear Mythos/Creepypasta (crossover?) story I'm working on, would anybody be willing to read it, or comment on it?

It's based around the (mis)adventures of Rosa, an orphan who just happens to be one of Slenderman's three Elite Proxies (The other two being, of course, Masky and Hoody. It's practically a given.). She's given a set of abilities that far surpass the other Proxies, gets privileges (Such as, but not limited to, mouthing off at her boss) and is an overall very strong character in a world where such people are generally the Fears themselves.
and then it all goes to hell.
She goes down with it, make no mistake. She loses her statues as a Proxy and all of the benefits that came with it; she loses bits of her sanity as time goes on, due to the fact that the world around her is complete and utter Chaos; and while she manages to weather the storm for a while with the aid of a certain soft-hearted Creepypasta and a certain Jerkass Creepypasta who's often seen by his fans as a Draco in Leather Pants, she eventually loses their support too. 
For those of you who don't believe me when I say that Jeff the Killer's a Draco in Leather Pants-

From this link.

I don't think my point could be any stronger.
The first chapter is currently under the scrutiny and editorial pen of K (who I would trust with writing my will if it came to it).
(It'll probably come to that.)
 And the sweet one's Eyeless Jack. personally, I've always seen him as sort of kind (relatively speaking) considering this- he could have killed his victims and had at all of their organs, including the ones they would have needed in life- heart, lungs, liver, uterus (mention that because, unless it's a surgery performed by a very skilled surgeon, most removals of the uterus end in death of the patient due to internal bleeding and trauma to the organs around it ((it's nestled snugly between the intestines and the bladder, two organs you really don't want to damage)). It's no wonder Jack the Ripper killed his victims before taking theirs.), and, most importantly, the brain. Instead, he opts to take one of their kidneys, while they're asleep, and leave no trace except a neat row of stitches. following this headcannon, the one guy who allegedly did die from EJ woke up in the middle of surgery, freaked out, and moved around while that very sharp scalpel was still inside of him.
moron.
EJ (that's his name from now on, get over it) defines himself as neutral in the war between the Fears and the Creepypastas over our universe (which is gushing with victims and entropy, which both the Fears and the Creepypastas need to survive). Jeff's Zalgo's lieutenant- against his will, since he's the most widely known of the Creepypastas (as far as I can tell, at least...) and has an easier time spreading fear and chaos than most of the other Creepypastas (and that chaos isn't always derived from fear, either. his mobile harem seems to cause it wherever they go, too.)

That's the gidst of it. I'm trying not to spoil much, but I'll tell you this, and let you make of it what you will-
Rosa is most definitely not a Mary Sue.
 the universe I have placed her in does not bend to her will.
she is not worshiped by the other characters.
she is no more capable as a Proxy than her fellow Elites.
She is, in fact, very weak and vulnerable when she loses her Proxy status, and because of this she subsequently heavily relies in EJ and Jeff to protect her and help her when she's in a tight scrap- and Jeff only complies because Zalgo told him that he could keep Rosa as his immortal pet and torture victim if she dies of natural causes. EJ does it because he genuinely likes Rosa as a little sister.
She suffers from things like starvation, dehydration, and PTSD during her tenure as a regular person in a world that has been completely been overrun by the entities she used to serve and the ones she used to fight with every fiber of her being. at the end of it all, she's exhausted, alone, and perfectly willing to die without regretting it.
She doesn't have a mysterious source of income- she works as a prostitute and an information broker in the daytime, and often loots her victims when working as a Proxy. College? She earned a substantial scholarship to the local community college for her excellence in athletics, particularly Martial Arts and Track and Field, as well as her (hard earned) excellent grades. between studying for College, her jobs as a prostitute and an information broker, and her Proxy work at night, she's often suffering from sleep deprivation.
Oh, and the director of the orphanage she's staying at (it's set in the future where orphans can't leave the orphanage without being adopted, fostered, or with the expressed permission of the director) likes having his way with her every once in a while, which only adds to her list of problems. as well as the usual consequences- she often has to drop a pay-per-session class at college to pay for an abortion, or treatment (or cure, it's set in the future after all) for yet another STD that he's transmitted to her that could get her fired from her job as a prostitute (which is often the source of the STDs, too).

because of all of this, Rosa's very cynical, sarcastic, and serious all of the time- unless she's trying to screw with someone for information that she can then either report to Slenderman or sell on the black market. Pragmatism is practically her lifestyle- whereas other teenagers her age (she's nineteen) have all sorts of high-tech, updated gadgets with the latest features, the only electronics she has are an old radio that hasn't stopped working in the entire time it's been in her possession (which is her only reason for replacing anything) and a laptop that was made in the 2000s (the story is set circa 2050, so expect a few new technologies to crop up once in a while) that's chipped around the corners and sometimes displays the Blue Screen Of Death. (She 'persuades' the robotics professor at the college to fix it when it does that.) She has no phone, no video game platforms, no car, no motorcycle (although she's taught herself through observation how to hotwire and operate one), and no television set. She doesn't put much faith into the vague hope that someone will come and rescue her when things get bad, mostly due to the fact that no one ever does.
She has no social life, due to the fact that she perpetually views the people around her as sheep being herded by the various cruel shepherds that are the Fears and Creepypastas. because of this, she's shunned by the people around her- and even, at times, bullied by her fellow college kids who are both jealous of her grades (despite her background), and disturbed by her 'freakish' behavior.

So yeah, that's Rosa. Definitely far from the Mary Sue territory. I tried as hard as I could with her on this issue. If you have any suggestions, do advise. if it's flames, I'm going to go get the fire extinguisher.

She's not kidding about that. 

... So that's where you've been.

Sorry, I got bored of just listening to Minerva drone on and on and on about how Lucius is bad news, I shouldn't be drooling over a guy with no body, blah blahblah blahblah....

Right. And I'm a fairy princess. what's your real reason for assimilating here, and blocking my attempts to delete your text?

I'm bored as FUCK, what more do you want from me?

I'm sorry, this post is going to have to end here.

Mirror Mirror

I'm hoping to keep this brief, even though it won't be. Probably.

Don't even bother, Mother. We're not going anywhere fast.

Shut up Minerva. I'm trying, alright? Trying.

Lucius is... unusually nice. To me, at least. everyone else is getting the butt end of his jackassery. I wonder if the affection stems from something more than just my similarity to his late girlfriend... He has often referred to me as 'adorable' and 'cute', especially during my moments of joking around.

I'm a surprisingly effective comedian, if I can get a serial killer to laugh at my black humor.

Of course, my guard has not been lowered. I still operate under the understanding that once I am no longer a source of amusement, he will dispose of me as a child disposes of a broken toy. Except, in a much more violent fashion- namely, killing me. Therefore, I must keep myself amusing for him, which honestly shouldn't be a problem. My wit and sarcasm have gotten me into trouble before- now they may possibly provide a means of preserving my life.

I haven't mentioned my hunt for Lucius' cohort in a while, mostly because there's nothing to report. He seems to have gone underground- there have been next to no new reports of missing girls falling into the late teens category in the ******* area, which probably means either that A) they have yet to be reported to the police, or B) the killings have stopped. permanently.

I really hope it's B. As fascinating as this hunt is, I really don't want to become a victim of my own curiosity.

You already are one, Mother.

Do shut up, Minerva. I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm.

K has informed me of a few changes in our interpretation of Lucius' past. notably, his reason for killing his first girlfriend- it wasn't because she was pregnant that she was leaving him, it was that fact that she found out he was murdering people behind her back.

Seems to me that Lucius had always had a penchant for killing. Also, he insists that killing her was unintentional- he simply freaked out. He didn't want to be alone- and her leaving him would have left him very much alone.
So the crying... was supposedly genuine.

I honestly cannot believe a word that comes out of this man's mouth. He's attempting a Bundy Gambit- generate sympathy, then strike when the walls are down.
I've seen this happen to too many victims for it to affect me.

You're lying, mom. It's definitely affecting you. You're falling for him!

You're the one falling for him, Dementia. not me. whatever affection I hold for him is simply your twisted feelings bleeding over into my own psyche. Nothing more.

I've recently found a Fear Blog that has several excellent theories. You will need to read the entire thing starting from the beginning in order to actually understand what is going on though- Here's the address to the first page. Good luck surviving the first few information dumps, but otherwise, it's an engaging and rather delightful story.

Results

Turns out I didn't even need to perform the experiment with S. All I had to do was ask.

Funny the way things turn out when you just ask, isn't it?

Shut up, Dementia.

Ghosts DO need to inhabit a subject that is emitting an EMF field. inanimate objects (other than electronics, of course) do not qualify for inhabitable bodies. as it is, I wonder what would happen if a Ghost attempted to possess an inanimate object... a doll, perhaps?
we've heard of haunted dolls. Malevolent Ghosts like these forms. but how do they possess a doll? is it just force of will? or is something else involved?

I mentioned earlier that there must be Demons. are these the Ghosts of Murderers, Serial Killers, Rapists, and other foul folk who just didn't want to stop even though they were dead? they take malevolence in the afterlife to the extreme. and from what I've observed of Satan, they don't seem to follow the rules I've laid out for Souls.

1) Satan didn't need to go through S's filter in order to find a new home in K. he just smashed right through and took over.
therefore, Demons seem to possess a greater amount of willpower than average Souls. Can being evil really make one that strong?
of course, evil is being used here as a relative term. really there is no such thing as good and evil- only those who follow a set standard of morals and those who don't. that doesn't make them evil, it makes them chaotic, uncontrolled, non-conforming to the whims of society and the expectations it has placed on their shoulders. they're, for all intents and purposes, rebels, even if they don't mean to be.
okay, self serving rebels would be more accurate, but you get the picture.

next...

2) Satan comes and goes as he pleases. while the other Souls who inhabit K only seem to surface whenever she's asleep or when she lets them, he can control her for an entire day, just on a whim. it doesn't matter what K wants, it doesn't matter what S wants, if Satan wants to dick around with her body and wreak havoc, he'll do it.

oh, and it seems he's taken a liking to me, because I remind him of his first girlfriend.

He doesn't like me though. weird. I certainly like him though... YUM.

Oh God, Dementia. Don't show me that!


Er...

Where was I... oh yes, on to my third observation.

3) Satan seems to retain all of his memories. in addition to this, he also doesn't seem to be bound permanently to K's psyche. while I haven't witnessed this myself, he often implies that he could quite easily leave her and just inhabit me instead.

Which would be quite... unusual.

Let him do it. please?

NO. I refuse to indulge in your sick fantasies, Dementia. now go away.

for those of you who are wondering, Dementia is actually... well, a sort of seed in my head that sprouted and took root. she was never actually a Soul.

Thank you for your consideration, Pandora. truly, I'm warmed by your appreciation of just what your genius has created. 

... 

... I wish I had my body back...

Oh do shut up. Pandora's trying to stay on topic here!

guys...

Oh, green's Minerva. yet another one, I know.

I just hope Belinda doesn't decide to take a little more control. That would be disastrous.

It's Just ME now...

Ah yes, since dearest Pandora is currently asleep due to overexertion and Minerva is trying to keep quiet, I guess I have this post all to myself. What FUN!

Pandora doesn't like going too in depth on my infatuation with Lucius. Pity, considering there's more to it than just a psychopath high on hormones. 

Lucius... what a sweet thing! But oh so cruel, too... what does he see in Pandora, that just isn't in me? She blushes at the vaguest hint that he's interested in her, she's not at all afraid to mouth off at him (honestly, it's like a sheep turning around and biting the wolf's tail- and he lets her!), and worst of all, she has absolutely no interest in killing anyone with him! How silly! How absurd! How pathetic!

I'd fulfill all of his fantasies. I'd let him use me... and abuse me...

but it seems all he really wants to do is confuse me. which makes me sad. I mean, I present him with a perfectly good opportunity to let off some pent up sexual energy, and he rejects me in favor of spending time with a prude. 

But I can't help but love it... He's teasing me, and he knows it. Which will make release that much sweeter... 
Lucius... Oh god, every time I think of him, it's always a scene. and it's never innocent either, if you catch my drift... Ropes, gags, whips and chains...
He reminds me of Jeff. I hated Jeff, after a fashion. but he also, in an odd way, reminds me of Jack...

...

...I miss Jack... 

He was one of the few people who actually cared about me, about the woman behind the face and not the face itself. 

but Lucius cares about Pandora. and it's making me jealous.

what to do, what to do...
 

Unfortunately...

I apologize for not posting yesterday, but school is quite overwhelming as of late. I've been cramming for a few tests and finishing up projects- and my Dormmate is not helping.

as it is, expect something of a hiatus for two or three more days. I know this blog is young, and you are probably thinking that I don't deserve a hiatus at this time, but sometimes reality takes over and I have to re-prioritize my schedule and side projects. though socializing has never been a priority in my life, K has diverted my attention away from schoolwork.
My ADHD is not helping matters, unfortunately.

Until the ground stops moving under my feet,

-Pandora, Observer of the Unobserved

Hacking, Ghosts, and General Insanity

So aparantly S can hack into my laptop.
which is great, considering that half of the websites are blocked. and by half, I mean the good half. Youtube, tumblr, deviantart- those guys. but thanks to S, they may become permanently unlocked. he's a great hacker. for a ghost, I mean. a ghost who says he grew up about forty years before the digital age ever came around, and died around twenty years before it.
I wonder what else he can do. can he possess inanimate objects- like a puppet, for instance? or is he just limited to things that have an EM field (electromagnetic field, for those of you who don't get dragged into watching ghost hunting shows by your hyperactive dormmate.)

Jeffrey stopped visiting. I kinda miss him.

I don't! Like it isn't spooky enough around here, what with Halloween just around the corner.

Mom, you're a bitch.

Dementia, stop calling me mom.

you said to stop calling you mother. 'mom' isn't 'mother' now is it?

*sigh*
Same implications, Dementia. now go back to your hidey hole in the back of my mind.

to move forward on that EMF theory...

Possession theory

Because I need a theory on Supernatural Possession on here.

Ghosts may/may not require an EMF to possess a physical form- a human, for instance, or a spoon. (I'm not cruel- I won't try to have S possess a spoon. what if he can't get out again? and how would I know if he was in the spoon to begin with?). As Ghosts are a little-studied phenomena, I have planned a couple of experiments for S (If he's willing; if not, this dream of mine will go unfulfilled unless he finds another volunteer Ghost to fill his place- which I don't know if he can do, seeing as he reports that most Ghosts are pretty solitary, and from what I've heard, malevolent. I don't want that puppet to try to gouge my eyes out the moment it is fully possessed- that's not the goal of the experiment.), which I hope won't put him in any danger. as energy without a physical form, as a Ghost outside of K's body he can't be harmed by conventional means (Remember: Energy cannot be created or destroyed, only converted into a different form.), but these experiments might be risky for him. I have no idea what I'm doing. S, if you're reading this, I want to say that whatever happens if you consent to this, I take full responsibility for it.

Reports conflict on the amount of control they may or may not have over inanimate objects; however, most reports, if not all, concerning human possession make it abundantly clear that very few benevolent Ghosts attempt to make a human a Host. Those who do, choose a human who's mental walls are broken down- possibly to avoid further psychological damage. Malevolent Ghosts, on the other hand, pretty much smash through a human's mental walls.

I came in like a wreeeeeaaaaking baaaaallll....!!

Dementia!


not sorry.

you should be!

and yet I'm not. toodles!

ugh...

Anyway- if Satan had been a fully-fledged Ghost, he would have fit the Malevolent Ghost trope perfectly. S, who had been pretty much acting as K's filter and kicking out all of the Souls who would have screwed her up further, was unable to hold back the half assed assault that Satan made on K's mind in order to be granted entry.

I'm sorry to say this, S, but you make about as good a watchdog as Cerebrus. and he's gotten his ass kicked around so many times...

back on topic. Satan may not have been a Ghost, and may have lost any chance of becoming one (from what I can tell, even when they're possessing K their personalities and mental strength are still deteriorating, albeit much more slowly), but he still behaved like one. Despite S's assurances that Satan is not, in fact, a Ghost, the symptoms thereof appear to argue that assurance.

Satan is, unfortunately, uncannily strong in mind. he was able to completely possess K on a whim, just because he was bored- and keep up that possession for the rest of the day.

Poor K... if only I had the power, the knowledge necessary to save her. She's going insane because of this Soul.

no.

not Soul.

There seems to be such a thing as a Demon.

that is what Satan is.

We Post This Together

(Note: Red is Dementia, Blue is me, purple is the both of us. I felt like posting a poem. we worked on it together, even though Dementia isn't a very poetic soul.)
With all that I've seen and all that I've done
My timelines are merging, becoming one.
I'm scared, I'm drowning, I can't even see
What's become her and what's still me.
This war, it seems, cannot be won.

Fantasy, reality, melt into confusion
all swirling together as part of my delusion.
I reach for the dark because the light makes me cry,
for it wrapped me in its wings and shaded my eyes-
Though not a friend; I continue in seclusion. 

I've dug too deep, I've gone too far,
We don't even know who we are!
We're rooted in hate under a food chain
that starts with misery and ends in pain,
giving survivors tell-tale scars. 

In the dark, all cats are grey-
Predators melt in the crowd of prey.
now you see me, now I don't-
sink or swim, I'd rather float-
at least I'd live another day.

 One kills with a glance.
One kills given the chance. 
One haunts you,
another flaunts you.
In the game, it's more a dance.  

Are you going to run? are you going to hide?
fueled by your stupid human pride?
We are but pawns displayed on the board
pulled around with the tug of a cord,
Controlled in both body and mind. 

Creepypasta/ Fear theory

I've read quite a few blogs, and done a bit of side research in my spare time on the topic of physics and Creepypastas. I've come up with my own, semi-complicated theory to explain their 'power'. I give you permission to use it (I encourage you to use it as long as you credit me with the theory, and send me a link to your story, which I might be then in the mood to edit so you can understand the theory better).

The Theory

basically, The Fears and the Creepypastas both have their separate universes. some of the Fears are so influential on the cosmic scale that they've created their own dimension- Slendy has the Path, the Convocation the Bleak Shore, just to name the two I can think of off the top of my head (and then there's the City, which is in and of itself a completely different universe). These dimensions 'bumped' into ours, and fused in some areas. remember this- I'm not in my College's offered physics class, so bear with me here. I'm taking a little artistic license here.

No S**t. 

Shut up Dementia. let me work.
These Universes have become stuck to ours, in a sense, and their denizens are fueled by our Chaos. our entropy levels, if you will, make them stronger. Say, Slendy decides that he's going to burn down a neighborhood. a few Runners and/or people who knew what he was lived in that neighborhood when it burned down, and so to add insult to injury, he would have his proxies spray paint the operator symbol all over the place. just to drive home the fact that it was Him who did it, not some freak accident. not only would panic, chaos, death, destruction, and overall mayhem ensue, but the Runners/ Knowledge sponges would, in a way, spread the word that He had been behind it. which would spread belief of him and strengthen him through the Tulpa effect as well as through the Chaos. Fun.

for another example, let's use Jeff. (Though this would be a bad example- his rabid/ mentally retarded fangirls would probably tone down the chaos a bit. just a bit...) Say he decides on a whim to terrorize a college dormitory. (like mine, for example. we've got quite a few parties going on here at the moment.) He shows up, screws around, makes a few corpses, and causes general mayhem, which would only increase his strength and power. He'd be getting high not only off of the rush of killing people, but the rush of power that it subsequently caused.

Jeff loved doing that. Though college dorms weren't really his place to hang out. 

Yes, thank you Dementia for giving us that little tidbit.

Speaking of 'Pastas...

That guy was back. And he looked an awful lot like Jeff. I swear it's him. 

It's not Jeff, Dementia. don't get your hopes up.

but what if it is...?

Then I'm screwed even if I do start to sleep with my favorite Desert Eagle underneath my pillow, safety off and magazine fully loaded with bullets. and a baseball bat to boot. My dormmate doesn't really enjoy the fact that I'm so paranoid, but since she usually stumbles back here either drunk or with a hangover, she's never much in a mood to complain.

Oh, that brings me to theory #2-

They can't fucking die.

Yes, I uncensored that for a reason. I've got a sailor's tongue, but that cuss seemed necessary.

Basically, if they're drawing their very power from our entropy levels, then they can't die. because we as a species (and the earth as a complete system) are usually in complete turmoil, always looking for something to blow each other up over or revolt over. As it is, that energy sustains them, and keeps them going. it also explains why almost nothing seems to work against Slendy- he's got nothing to fear from us, because he can't die. He's just a little camera shy, and must have a thing against being caught in the act. or maybe that's an act, to spread around the Operator symbol, something that immediately brings him to mind and spreads belief in him.
as I can attest to. someone decided it would be funny to decorate one of the campus corridors with the Operator Symbol after seeing it underneath my dormroom window. It wasn't against the rules- we'd been decorating the campus for Halloween, but still... I freaked.

A few others freaked out worse than she did. I think they're Runners.

How many times must I tell you Dementia... these theories are for creatures that don't even exist! You lot don't exist! Jeff doesn't exist! Slendy doesn't exist!

You've got a lot to learn about the universe you live in, Mother. 

don't call me that! it makes me feel old.

mother...

f**k you. 

HOLY S**T

I saw someone outside my window.
He looked like Jeffrey.
It probably wasn't Jeff the Killer. just some drunk who thought it would be funny to dress up as him and terrorize the poor girl with the operator symbol underneath her window. 
It was definitely Jeffrey. 
you're going to be very disappointed, Dementia. 
COME AND GET ME JEFFREY! 
*facepalm*
It's not Jeff. Jeff doesn't exist. 
You're in for a shocker, mother. 
F**k off, Dementia. 
Never. This is too much fun. It's been a while since I beat up Jeffrey. I wonder where Jack is. 
Jack isn't here! Jeff isn't here! They're fictional! Just like the Slender Man! 
But you believe in Ghosts, and Souls-
There's a very scientific explanation for their existence. but Creepypastas and Entities/Fears? what are you going to say next, that fairy princesses exist too?   
... point taken. but still! just because you can't explain it, doesn't mean they don't exist!
Yes it does. Physics and Science explain every single phenomenon that goes on in the world. but they do not allow for Fears and Creepypastas. it's just not possible.      

Where was I... oh yeah, my next lesson. 
I've covered the Afterlife, in a way. 
according to S, Atheists have a higher chance of becoming Ghosts, since they reject the possibility of something after this life, outside of this universe. How... charming. 
well, there are a few upsides to being a Ghost. for one thing, you can watch people shower, and they won't even realize you're there. for another, you can't die again. 
but it seems to be awfully lonely. and I kind of like being around people- people I can talk to, that is.  
Most people seem to move onto these other Universes (Heaven and Hell, aparrantly) and don't really come back unless they want to. 
if what S says is true, however, that means that our universe is constantly losing energy, from the deaths of people (and other sentient beings- it's a big f**king universe, people). Which defeats the theory that our universe is a semi-isolated system. 
but do you know what that means? our entropy levels won't continue to increase. because in an isolated system, the chaos factor increases over time, whereas in non-isolated systems, it stays relatively constant.  
But that would mean... 
That's a separate theory for a separate universe that only exists in my head and in the minds of those whom I've lectured. a 'headcanon' if you please. For the Creepypastas, and to a certain extent the Fears/Entities (I've heard them called either one).  
I might post that one next, if I feel the need. you few people aren't here to be lectured on something that you may not even know that much about, but I feel the sudden urge to get it out. 
Compulsion. you're being stalked by the Skinny White Douchebag. Only natural.
...Charming nickname for him, Dementia.  

Fighting for power

Well hello. 
Oh, I'm sorry. Were you expecting someone? 
I'll get her here right away. 
Gee, thanks Dementia.
hello. I'm back. sorry to keep you all waiting. I have school, you know. College life is the fast life- or slow, if all you do is study. which I personally don't, though I devote a great deal more time to it than my roommate. Who is currently out getting drunk, high, f**ked, you name it.
*sigh*
at least I have K. She's almost everything to me. Especially since the relationship between me and my parents is... not so good.
You're understating things.
F**k off Dementia. I don't need you critiquing the way I live my life. 
anyway... 
Satan. 
Well, I have no problem divulging his real (first) name. and showing you all just how punny my nickname for him is. 
Lucius. 
as in, Lucifer. 
I'm no Christian, but I know the name of the Devil. 
To clarify things, Lucius (his real name) is a derivative from Lucifer. 
His parents mustn't have been in a good mood when they named him. 
Lucius grew up in a... not so happy home. His biological father left when he was too young to remember, and his stepfather was an abusive son of a s**t. 
And I don't just mean beating. 
According to S, Lucius was brutally raped when he was a kid. which is why he decided to take a knife to his dad and kill him. 
when he was seven. 
he then set up the scene to appear as though it was a brutal robbery. it worked; he was never charged for the crime. 
later on, when he was in high school, he had a brief dalliance with a girl. she ended up pregnant, and told him she was leaving him because of it. 
so he killed her. right there and then. by stabbing her in the stomach. 
he made it look like a suicide before breaking down into tears over her. which must have convinced his mother, who walked in on the scene. 
he was never charged for that crime, either. 
and you know what scares me?
His girlfriend was a redhead. like me. 
Later on, he would become friends with two other boys. 
that's when the raping started. 
he would befriend a girl at school. he would invite them over to his house when he had gained their trust. 
he would then have them kidnapped by his two cohorts. he would do all sorts of things so that she would not be able to realize their identities- they wore masks and never talked. she was also blindfolded. 
then Lucius would come in, and rape her. he never talked, and he never showed his face. 
after a while, he would come and 'rescue' her. which not only got her home, and got her to shut up, but increased her trust for him. 
after several recurring incidents like this, she would figure it out. she would put two and two together. 
and then he would kill her. after all...
nobody likes tripping over loose ends.
Thank you for putting it so eloquently, Dementia. 
by the way, her real name is
Don't you fucking dare!
Persephone. 
I swear, if we didn't share a body...
Oh hush. It's not like you'd kill me anyway. you're too much of a wimp. 
You're talking to a serial killer here.
Only in fiction. here you're just a big talker. now shut up so I can get back to enlightening all who read this. 
anyway, as Lucius did his utmost to befriend, exploit, and murder his victims without getting caught, this lands him firmly in the Mask category. he even immediately killed a girl who heard his voice when he was in the middle of raping her. you can't exactly get more cautious than that. Dead Women Don't Talk and all that.
Soon enough, the second partner started blackmailing the other two. so Lucius and his first partner went ahead and shut him up for good. which would be nice and all except that soon after, Lucius decided to go after the first partner's ex girlfriend. who he still loved. 
so of course his buddy turned around and knifed him in the heart. 
No word on the body from the cops. the news is being all hushed up too, which can mean one of two things- either his partner is just as good as Lucius is at covering his tracks, or for some reason the reporters, the feds, the cops, you name them, are all keeping it classified. 
Oh, and some idiot decided it would be funny to paint an Operator symbol on the outside of the dormitories. the idiot got arrested after his face was caught on camera and he was expelled, but the Symbol is still there. 
and it's right under my dorm. 
might as well just paint a big red target on my back and run around campus screaming "Come and get me Slender F**ker!". 
Hmmm... I wonder what results that experiment would yield. 
Oh, by the way-
The Fourth Wall Shall Not Protect You.         

I'm Back

I won't keep you long.
K (my friend, the one with all of the people in her head) recently absorbed a new person.
Normally, this wouldn't be an issue.
But S warns me that this is, in fact, an Issue.
So much so that it deserves a capital I.
S is a full-blown Ghost. he cannot move on to either of the dimensions that have attached themselves to our own (let's call them 'heaven' and 'hell', shall we, just to simplify things) nor can his energy be recycled while in this dimension. the only thing about him that seems to have deteriorated over time are his memories.
Souls, on the other hand, deteriorate rapidly after the death of the body. Without the willpower to resist, they are either recycled (reincarnated, for you Buddhists and Hindus) or pulled towards one of the alternate dimensions to remain preserved in their current form.
Some Souls, however, decide to stick around a while longer than they should, which puts them on the fence- are they Ghosts? Or Souls? Not even they can decide. that's where K comes in.
She shines like a beacon to them. Her mind is fragile, and when she's having a breakdown or going through trauma, the usual walls that prevent Souls from inhabiting a living body fall down, allowing them in.
But the newbie- let's call him Satan, since I feel punny today- didn't need to go through all that. Nor did he go through S's filter, which usually kicks out Souls like him.
Souls like him, you ask?
Satan's a serial killer.
he died not even a week ago, when his partner in crime turned on him.
thing is, that means there's another serial killer on the loose. In my area, no less.
my life just go so much more interesting. I went from researching long dead serial killers, to fictional ones (Hello, Jeff- no, I'm not f**king tired, go put someone else to sleep), to hunting an actual one, who's still loose.
Satan's unusually strong-willed. and plus, Dementia doesn't like him. Because Serial Killers don't share territory- it's like two farmers sharing sheep. that s**t don't fly, to use inarticulate slang.
Dementia considers herself a Predator.
let me explain.
In her view, there are two types of people in the world, who are further divided into four subcategories- two for each type.
There are Predators. She's one of them. Satan is another.
Then there are Prey. I'm one of them. K is another. S would be considered one if he was still alive (he's a sweet guy- he's the Ghost who cured my fear of the paranormal). Most people who go about their daily lives fall under this category.
The two types of Predators are as follows-
1) Masks- these Predators make themselves out to be your friend. then they exploit you, take all your money, your attention, your energy, and maybe even your life. Satan is considered one of these, for reasons I'll elaborate on in my next post.
2) Knives- these Predators just don't give a s**t whether or not they get caught. they're having fun, after all. they think themselves unstoppable- and because of this, they're messy. they leave trails. and the police find them. but for that brief time that they're running loose, they are the greatest menace to society.

a psychologist would say that Masks are Sociopaths, Knives Psychopaths.
they would be correct.

Prey subcategories are as follows-
1) Blind Sheep- going about their daily lives, these Prey don't concern themselves with the thought of dying. they've got a report to fill, a wife to care for, and a daughter to send off to college, after all- there's no time to worry about somebody who may be their one-way ticket to the afterlife. Most ignorant people or those who are more pressed for time than I am fall under this category.
2) Fighters- They don't like being Prey, but they despise Predators. Dementia thinks they're cute, fighting against their fate. I think they're admirable- even though their fate was sealed the moment they displayed empathy, they do everything they can to avoid succumbing to it. Those familiar with the Slenderman Mythos and the subsequent Fear Mythos would know these people as Runners.

More tomorrow, if I can find the time to write a post.

Establishing Character Moment

It's a crazy world out there.

Let me introduce myself. I am known on the Internet as Pandora. That is, quite obviously, an alias- but I prefer it that way. It gives the Illusion of anonymity, at least. though I know many of you out there are clever enough to figure out my true Identity.
let me explain one thing real quick, before I set to work.
there will be two people on here.
One will be Me.
The other will be Me.
Confused yet? don't be. The other me is Dementia. don't mind her- she's harmless.
and by harmless I mean she isn't going to stalk any of you. just, you know, observe and possibly terminate. nothing too horrible.
A lot of what I post on here will be very controversial. I trust my sources, and my theories. they (mostly) line up with our current understanding of physics, as well as adding a... spiritual element, I suppose you could call it. I will firstly explore my theories concerning the afterlife... and I have a very unique reason to do so.
My best friend (or girlfriend, we're in that ambiguous zone) has a disorder that until recently was classified as MPD (has since changed to DID- dissociative personality disorder). however, her case seems to be special. why, you may ask?
Those personalities weren't hers. they're the personalities of people who have died.
I'm not saying they're ghosts. (Okay, one of them fully admits to being one). They're something in between Ghost and dissipated, recycled energy- clinging to sentience and memory, but gradually degrading.
Energy cannot be created or destroyed. only converted. this is the center of the theories. the rest, I must say, gets complex. which is why I've started a blog about it.
Let me get something perfectly clear before I continue- I am Atheist. I do not believe in God, or Allah, or Buddha, or Vishnu, or whoever holy Deity you've decided to worship. much of my theory comes from the Ghost, who I will simply refer to as S, as he knows firsthand what the afterlife is like.
Later on this blog will earn its title. but for now, I'm laying the groundwork.
good night.
Don't let the souls come and bite.