Help Me Help You


So, goslanen. You think you are real clever, don’t you? You tracked me down when the police couldn’t, you broke into my safehouse, and you left me a note without me even so much as hearing a peep. You even left no visible signs of entry. You must be so proud.

Except for the fact that there is nothing to be proud of. The police are inept. Any monkey can avoid them. My doors weren’t even locked, because I’m not afraid of your ghoulies, ghosties, and long legged beasties, and I’m certainly not afraid of you. If you had the guts to kill me, you would have, instead of leaving me a link to your cute amateur theater audition tapes. You do not impress me. You do not intimidate me. You are nothing, understand me? Nothing.

Do you think your videos scare me?  I’ve been a paranormal researcher for four years now, and I’ve seen things I can’t explain, things a hell of a lot more terrifying than a spooky voice and some flashing pictures. I’ll take notice of you when you do something of substance.  Until then, crawl back to your parasites.


3 responses

  1. That person. The one who broke into your safehouse, the one that’s been repeatedly visiting Mara.
    He calls himself an “Angel son”

    November 8, 2010 at 5:11 am

  2. Jackson…before, I wanted you to just come home. But if you think you can get this guy…then do it. Get him for Mara…and if not for her, then for me.

    Angel son? What is that even supposed to mean? This is obviously some kind of pissing contest, but what Jackson wants, he gets. And I’m not sorry for that – this “son” deserves what’s coming to him.

    November 8, 2010 at 1:14 pm

  3. It may be presumptuous to say he actually calls himself that, I tend to be hasty with my thinking, but it’s the only anagram of all names he gave that gives any semblance of relevance to your endeavours.

    November 8, 2010 at 5:50 pm

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