Saturday, August 20, 2011

Ticking (1)

Hi, my name’s Rob. I work as a…delivery man, of sorts.

You see, me and my friends had this old school bus. We found it one day near our city junkyard, and my friend Fred (the technical genius of the group) got it fixed up all nice and shiny.  After that, we rode around it for a few weeks, just stopping by towns on a road trip.

That was when we met this kid named Peter Rivers.

He told us that if we delivered random stuff for him during the next few months, he have us become very rich men. We, of course, didn’t want to believe him at first. But that was before he handed us a check with a substantial amount of money. 

That’s when we started to believe him.

Or not. I have a feeling that we would have ended up belie

Shit. Not enough time for a full description.

Okay, listen, the point is we took the deal. Like idiots.

This was January. The deal lasted until May.

It was great, okay? All we had to deliver were mostly clocks of various sizes. Pocketwatches, grandfather clocks, alarm clocks. Anything that ticked.
We’re not (complete) idiots though. At one point, we thought  we were transporting bombs, or hell, maybe even drugs.

But that didn’t fit. Peter mostly had us deliver to…old people.

Wealthy fucking old people. Like, they’re houses and cars and shit were just ridiculous considering their monetary value. Seriously.

Unless he had a raging fetish for blowing up old people, we severely doubt he was a terrorist of suburban proportions.

But I’m going off into a tangent again. Look;

The dude ran off somewhere. Left. Fucking left us.

We were out of the job, man.
And all the money promised? That we had for a few months and relatively squandered little of it? That one?

 All gone. Seized by this company that is so –legit-  it doesn’t even have to give us its real name. Instead, it has some retarded Beatles song or whatever as its name. Like, no joke. Really.

No money. No job.

We had some money left, mind you. But not a notable amount.

A month passed by with us slowly dying in the house we all shared…..we were all depressed. And the depression made us tired. Lazy. So we started surfing the internet.

And if you’re reading this blog at all, then I’m confident you know what happens next.

I discovered The Slender Man. And to make a long story short,

He’s real. We’ve all seen him.

So that’s what I’m here for. Help, I guess.

We’re scared, okay? We don’t want to die.

So, any advice or help will be very much appreciated.

(and soon...please....Tim's run off somewhere, and Daniel....)



  1. Daniel won't come out of his room, no matter how much we try to coax him out.

    ...what do we do??