mind travel. [part 2]

“this is George? again, uh, you, uh, you have to understand. you have to use your mind right. this idea is of extreme importance for you to understand. if you can’t do this for us then I don’t think you fully understand the gravity of the situation. some people in this world have just got to use their minds. we know where you are. we know how to get to you. and we will come.” (just before the line goes silent on the voicemail I heard a squishing sound and then what sounded like a wet explosion in the background.)

okay, what the fuck do I do now? I shouldn’t have been so curious… damn it.

Text Message Sent at 3:45 am (“I am concerned about your motives and I wish to no longer be associated with you and your ‘group’ I suppose. Please do not contact me further.”)

I really, really hope this guy isn’t serious…

Missed Call Notification at 3:51 am

Knock at the door at 3:51 am – no one there.

stupid kids knocking on my door and then running away. wait… it’s almost four in the morning…

3:52 am – a loud bang came from my balcony behind the closed blinds and glass door. I checked the noise to see that my entire balcony is in shambles.

I am on the 3rd floor. how the hell did anyone get up here to do this?

Missed Call Notification at 3:53 am

Voicemail Notification at 3:53 am – the message follows:

“we see you…”

————————————————————————————————————————

[end of part 2]

Advertisements

mind travel.

I can’t believe it. that was fucking weird. shit. stupid ass book. what is this shit? ooooh “mind travel!” astral projection ehh? bullshit. I’ll bring it home anyway it’s kind of funny.

Well my curiousity got the best of me a couple hours later. I couldn’t resist. 1:00 am

2 Texts sent:
1st at 1:03 am July 25 (“who is this?”)
2nd at 1:20 am July 25 (“why did you give me the book?”)

1st Phone Call Received at 1:27 am

Voicemail Notification at 1:28 am

do i check the voicemail? do i not check the voicemail? what the hell do i do? 1:36 am

Voicemail checked at 1:39 am – rustling and static in the background and then the line goes dead

Text message sent at 1:40 am (“leave a voicemail explaining yourself?”)

Missed Call Notification Received at 1:41 am

Voicemail Notification Received at 1:43 am

well isn’t he just prompt… I need a break from this…

Voicemail checked 1:49 am

The message of the frantic man is transcribed here:

“hi this is George? I got your text message I dont know how to text so I thought I’d call give you a call you told me to call to leave you a voice message I thought I’d help you out and stuff and things and learn how to use your mind more and stuff and things I do for other people too and stuff and things and nothing else and stuff and you know a lot of people don’t know how to use their mind more you know thats all nothing else know you know people that want to use their mind more you know and them things you know because you know a lot of people don’t know how to use their mind too good so I’ll talk to you later bye.” (lots of rustling and movement in the back ground.)

this guy is fucking nuts.

I have decided to ask him to cease all communications. 2:00 am

Text Message Sent at 2:00 am (“please do not contact me further.”)

Missed Call Notification at 2:03 am

Voicemail Notification at 2:05 am

Text Message Sent at 2:05 am (“stop contacting me.”)

Voicemail checked at 2:06 am

————————————————————————————————————————

[end of part one.]

sad man.

his face sunk and his eyes welled up like puddles in a rainstorm. a muddy brown. he leaned his back to the wall and slide to the floor. he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face between them. weeping. he stood and walked to the window, staring down at the street. he drew the shades. when they found him he still had the note in his hand.

untitled.

one eye was bigger than the other and skewed upward on his face. his mouth jutted from his cheek to chin and his lips looked like the muscle broke free and curled back over his skin. I could see the twisted bone coursing under his flesh. he was a gaunt creature. his neck spiraled downward to a small, thin lump you could call shoulders. he had two massive hooks forced through the meat of his chest, they were chained to anchors at his feet. his chest was free of blood except four thin trails running down toward his hips. the scarring over his freakish, long arms was a bloody mess. they hung at his sides like burdens of weight he could hardly stand to bear. his pelvis was a mutilated, torn mass that looked to be of a pulpy consistency. I could see the terrible injury throbbing and pulsing. chunks of meat and goo strung from his groin to his thighs. his legs extended from his frail hips. they twisted, bent, and snapped inhumanly all the way to his feet. his toes grew from his gouged feet into the earth beneath. they rooted there and I watched them burrow through the ground like worms. he looked so sad.