Wednesday, October 19, 2011


So, yeah.
I'll admit writing an obituary for yourself isn't the sanest thing to do. See? There I've said it. Yes, I'm looking at you Ben you miserable, cynical bastard. It'll get explained.
I've had this floating around for a while, in one shape or another. I suppose you're absolved of the contents of that flash drive Spence. Throw it in a river for all I care.

As with any good story, we begin from the beginning.

It'll be seen eventually. Michael Johannes (pronounced Jones for some unfathomable reason), born Monday, 15th December, 1991. It was snowing that day. Afflicted as of July 12th, 2011, Stalked as of August 7th, 2011. Also known as Nemo.

We'll skip the early years. There's nothing terribly important there.

Amateur actor and cameraman, journalism student, habitual liar. And yes, I know some of you will seize on that last point. I'm getting better about it.

In the beginning, there were a dozen of us. There were only two others can I can really remember, as far as the story is concerned, the others aren't important. Richard, Rick, he was in screenwriting, and Jessica, who was in theatre. Most of them were theatre students actually, but it was Rick that got everyone into it. We were going to make a short film, and Rick was the director. Screenwriting was on the same floor as journalism, theatre was in the same building on the floor below. I just sort of fell into it, see, no one was that good with a camera. A dozen people and none of them could run a camera properly. You know, journalism tends to work with still cameras and I still knew more than them? But I'm rambling.

'If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as improbable fiction.'

(That's Twelfth Night by the way) We set out to make a film about the Slender bastard. Most of the theatre bunch were just doing it for practice, but Rick was really into it. Wanted to be the next John Carpenter or something. We would talk over bits of the script, compare it to what was already out. Most people get hooked with Marble Hornets, but it was the Hybrids that did it for me, first series I saw. Terrified me by the time he showed up on screen the first time. Had to sleep with a light on the night after that. Been a few nights like that since. More than a few.

I don't smoke, don't really drink (I make exceptions for sweet things and Bailey's). No drugs. My vices were more, cerebral you might say. I enjoyed being scared; well not exactly. I enjoyed the feeling afterwards. The cocktail of chemicals that your body produces when you're afraid and the inevitable rush of calmness or happiness when you realize you're safe was... is quite intoxicating. This did it for me better than anything up until that point. Before that I'd been more into zombies, but the depth of the terror here made it even better. And then Rick called the whole thing off.

Like I said, an improbable fiction; we didn't hear from him after that. Someone said something about him moving, but things started to break down and go dark after that. Like a bunch of little lightbulbs slowly going out. People just didn't talk any more.

Jessica, she was our make up and props person. She'd been working on the costume for 'it' when Rick called things off. Picked up a few tricks off of her. I'd helped her do up some of the cryptic stuff, notebooks and all that. We worked together to make sure things looked alright when they were on camera.

I think I have to derail the narrative for a second and talk about Jessica now. I don't know how much of it shows through, but it's safe to say that Jessica was important. In retrospect, this will all sound a little creepy. Socially well-adjusted doesn't seem to be a trait that stalked seem to be known for.

Love isn't the right word. Fond, perhaps. Inordinately fond is probably the best description. It probably wouldn't have taken much for that to turn into obsession. Which probably brings my stability into question again. I'm really probably not the best character witness for myself.

She was really serious about it, a lot like Rick. Looked at Marble Hornets a lot. She took the costume back with her, and some of the props. Jessica stopped talking last. She was... out of it. I thought she was joking to be honest. And then I got into the blogs. I can't remember how I got into that business with Claire and Royce and Lyric and the rest.. I haven't tried to find out what happened to anyone. Well, except I know what happened to Jessica. Jessica's dead.

Jessica was special to me. And I killed her. She was a proxy. She came into my home and tried to kill me. So I killed her. And I don't think the bit that came after this was helping the case for my stability. Suffice it say, it wasn't pleasant.

Since everyone I've asked doesn't seem to know? Nemo means "nobody" in latin. I thought it was a clever way of saying "nothing to see here". I don't think it's accurate any more. And I'm trying to avoid out and out lies.

So that's the story.


  1. Thanks. Unless somebody (Spencer if he returns to sanity, Opal) says otherwise, I'll even do you the favor in return of accepting this as your truth.

  2. Ben, don't be an idiot. What else fits with the random bits of truth scattered around the blog?

  3. Johannes huh? No kidding.

    Looks like I missed a lot.

  4. Sure, Elaine, this fits and makes sense. However, a lot of things fit and make sense, while being false. And you don't realize that until a new fact comes along and blows the lid off everything earlier.

  5. Dear God, man... What is all this? How can you have the time to write so much on this blog? I expect you're the least rational of the bunch? I... can't even think of anything more imaginative to say on the matter. Criminy.


  6. Writing in instalments helps.
    I liked Ridley better. He was funny.

  7. Really?

    I am offened, sir, that you would prefer that crass street walker to the sophistication which I bring to these proceddings. Nevertheless, I shan't be sticking around long, and you'll have the lunatic back soon enough.



  8. If by "sophistication" you mean "arrogance" then, yes, I prefer the lunatic.

  9. You like me? You really really like me!

    Why thank you captain, I
    'm flattered. I'll be sure to keep thst dickj off my computer from now on, specially for yousir. p€ardon my sentences, but it is rather unsuitable toi be typing with but one hand that is not broken.

    Stay frosty, cap.

  10. that's kinda creepy. Are you just sittin' there watching for new comments? Just chillin' out, maxin', nrealxin' a;; cool and just shootin' some b-ball outside a the school? when a couple a guys who're up to no godd, started makin' trouble inyour neighbiorhood. you get in one little fight an' your mom gets scared n' says you;re movin' in wit you auntue an; uncle... in bBelAir!

    Besides, nobody uses boats anymore anyhow.

  11. Cute, Riddles.


    As for Michael, I'm glad you've decided to explain. :)