Entry 26: Daniels Journal: Entry #2

I haven’t found who I’m searching for…

Everything seems a bit strange.

I left the diner and headed through town, thinking I might get a better lead.

No dice.

Actually something strange happened.

As I drove down a road, just outside the downtown area of the city things started to look familiar. Too familiar. It is impossible but, I realized I was driving down the road to the home I grew up in! It isn’t possible though. I grew up far from NY and wherever this town, Black Winter, is.

I pulled down the street and sure enough, there sat my home growing up.

That…ISN’T…POSSIBLE!

I don’t know how to explain it but there is something wrong with this place.

I felt compelled to go inside the old house and everything was as it was left…

Right down to my Dad hanging by a noose from the living room fan.

My Mothers room, still reeking of sorrow and the smell of other men.

The memories, their too much!

I slowly…cautiously check the closet, and there lay my Mothers decapitated body strewn all over the closet in pieces. She had been…killed by one of her Johns and he cut her into pieces. I came home and found her that way.

How could this be?!

Something was different though. Turning around, above my Mother’s bed, in blood was a message:

A nightmare from your memories past lies in wait, if you wish to find it you need only win my game.

Q1: I hide in shadows. I am truth and a lie. What am I?

I’ll stop there.

…This is too much…

-Daniels Journal: Entry #2-

Entry 25: Old Annie’s Last Wish

Exhausted I lay here

Wondering when it will all end

I find as I stare down at the street below

I’m completely lost

No memory of who I am or how I know

Any of the souls down below

They all call me Annie

Say they know me somehow

Yet I don’t know a damn one of them!

A man has come upstairs every day

Tears in his eyes

A tall lanky frame

He says hi Annie

I’m Frank

Do you remember our last date?

All the memories we shared

Our marriage

Our wedding cake?

Do you remember the children we had?

Do you remember anything?

This old man who claims to be Frank

I don’t remember him nor any cake

His tears seem genuine

He clearly aches

I’m quite sure his heart is in the right place

Still I look him in the tear soaked face

I tell him

WHO THE FUCK IS FRANK?!

You think you can make me think whatever you wish

I’m not a fool

I know it is a trick!

I won’t fall for your paltry games

Your tear filled shame

I don’t know you

I don’t know anything!

Just let me die

Accept my fate

Let today be my last day

I’m alone despite present company

Why won’t you just let go of me.

Leave me to my tortured fate

Help…ME…ESCAPE!

This damn nightmare I relive everyday

Come Death

Take my soul

Let me be free

Give me back my memories

-Old Annie’s Last Wish-

Entry 23: Daniels Journal: Entry #1

This isn’t going to make a whole lot of sense. I’m not even sure how I wound up here. I remember a few months back hearing reports of people missing. I had a client who asked me to look into a MPC (Missing Persons Case). It was her brother. A 29 year old guy who simply stopped communicating with my client.

She swore this was not like him. They communicated every day. He has been missing for 6 months as of the time she came to me. Apparently she had been in contact with the NYPD but they weren’t getting any closer in their investigation, so she hired me. I’m not sure how to say this, but the last thing I remember was driving on a rainy night, much like tonight.

I’ve been on the case now for about 1 month. I was looking into a lead…now I’m here. A town called Black Winter. I woke up here. I know that sounds odd, crazy even. I’m lost though. My car is here, but no matter where I go, this town continues. If you think that is odd, there have been a string of murders around here. Women going missing, never to be found again. Well, till the recent 12 who were found. It has been all the talk in this town.

Something is off though. I sit in a diner, listening to the rain and pondering. I don’t remember how I got here. I woke up in my car at one point, assuming I got tired and maybe pulled over. I have never heard of Black Winter. Everything in this town is off somehow. The strangest thing happened though. 3 nights ago I came to this very diner and spoke with a waitress asking for directions out.

The waitress smiled.

“Where are you going detective?”

The way she smiled and the way she said this was off putting. I explained to her how I was looking for someone. I showed her a picture of the man, Eric Gallager (29) and her eyes lit up.

“I saw him here the other night.”

Long story short, that puts his last known whereabouts in this town. I’ve been searching the town ever since. I haven’t found him…

…or…

a way out.

-Daniels Journal: Entry #1-

Entry 22: Conversations With Death #1: Natalie

One day I grew sick

A blistering fever took my body

It carried it away

I remember seeing a woman

Then the world fell black

She had the sweetest smile

Her eyes were the deepest blue

She had pale skin, like snow

Hair blacker than the darkest black

I remember her smile just before the world I knew

Faded into obscurity

I awoke and she stood there

I saw her long black hood

I saw her angels wings, the color of her hair

I thought I knew then

This was the end

She turned to me and smiled

You could tell she was holding back tears

She said this would be my home now

This my place,

Until the time where judgment came for me

I asked her where my mommy was?

I asked her if she had seen my dad?

She simply stared at me

Shaking her head

She didn’t need to do this

Her face confirmed everything

I already knew

Still I asked as though it would change my fate

Overwhelmed with an emotional tidal wave

I screamed

I’m only six!

It began to snow

Then she spoke

I’m sorry the world you were born into

Was so cold

If it helps, know

It was nothing you could control

Young Natalie, it was time I come for your soul

After that she smiled and promised me this

Someday I would see everyone again

As she turned and disappeared

I knew inside

What she just said

Was a lie

She could not hide

What I felt inside

My mommy and daddy had also died

Yet, they were not here

…by my side…

-Conversations With Death #1: Natalie-

 

?#13

Entry 21: Hotel Sin

What is your vice?

What is your #1 sin?

Whatever it is you will find it within

These halls beckon you to play

That age old deadly game

So what is it you desire?

Is it to murder?

If so then why?

Perhaps you would rather die?

End it all by taking your own life?

Forgetting those who you leave behind

To cry and mourn, to wonder why?

Maybe you are greedy and would like to gamble it all?

Why not? Care to wager your soul?

Maybe your sin is lust

If so our gallery is a must

Pick a man, a woman, both?

It all comes at simple cost.

Maybe you just need some rest

To do nothing

To decompress

If that is the case feel free to stay in our luxury suite

We guarantee it will cater to your every need.

All these things and more are at your beck and call

All you need is to check in

Welcome to Hotel Sin

The only place you will ever need to stay again…

-Hotel Sin-

 

?: 4

Entry 20: They Call Him Suffering

Late in the night

I hear them whisper my name

Late in the night they compell me to explain

All those things which they whisper in my ears

Their lives

Their deaths

Their sins they confess

How lost and afraid young Michelle was

When that sick demon had his way

The shallow haunting rasping breaths

Old John heard just before his wife’s death

The insane cackling of the madman

Just before cut open this girl named Beth

Slice/Dice Slice/Dice Slice/Dice

Steady drip

Oh how delicious her life tasted

As it drained from her during death

Only 17 she was when laid to rest

James and Lacey

Always searching

For their 3 year old daughter

They lost one night while getting their next fix

The delicious taste the night Mr. Simon

Took her innocence

Before dumping her body into some ditch

The perverted moans of that old priest

A childs cries and eternal grief

These are just a few of the things

I hear and see

Every night until about 3

That damned hour

Whence comes he

The worst of them all

Always smiling at me

The things he recants I can never say

Every night as he tortures me

He is by far the worst of them all

He is my murderer

The source of my eternal grief

He makes me listen to these whispers

He has his way with me

He always comes at the hour of 3…

-They Call Him Suffering-