...

nngh. The fuckers in my head getoutgetoutgetoutgetout he wwont stop it hurts shitshitshit the notwtbook it is putrpose it has the wkey to all

make it stop make it stop makwe  it s s stop

they watch tehy wagftch all teh time we cantr stop them we cant get out cgant gety away not ever

hes there


wait ing for me to drop.

it was him that bastard did this tom e

iil kill\ him for it i swear


nonononononononononono get out.

fuck.

hes here.

hes here and ill  

FEAR not, Daniel. The pawn can be dealt with. You can be made safe. ARCHANGEL will be no more if you cease resisting us so forcefully. The choice is yours, of course. The painful void of death ARCHANGEL can offer you, or to walk the streets unencumbered. The windows are locked, but a door is open. We will wait for you.

But for the time being, rest. You will know what is required of you next.

useless

The Notebook, Part 2

Well, I finally got around to photographing the gibberish Red left me. It seems a bit more coherent than Mike's rantings, but not by a lot.

"they run and they run / but they can never get / away. the pawn will / find them. the eyes / of god are opened. / my conversion will soon begin." And more of the weird triangle symbols. This sounds vaguely like a threat, but I'm not entirely sure what's being threatened here.

"Revelation 1:8 / understand." More evidence for my wacko cult theory. Revelation 1:8 is, by the way, "I am the Alpha and the Omega," declares the Lord God, "the one who is, who was, and who is coming, the Almighty." So, seems to fit the tone already established.

"you cannot escape / there is no escape / there is only delaying of the inevitable / embrace the archangel / 4:17" Resistance is futile. Kill yourself. I get it. 4:17 might be a time, it might be a bible reference, I really don't know.

Mostly useless. I think I'll just try and sleep on it. Who knows, it might help.

Yeah, right. What crap all this is.

Return, I guess

Well, I found the notebook today. It was laying just outside my front door. I think that rules out having just "misplaced" it. And, by extension, brings up the real possibility that Red broke into my house for the sole purpose of getting back Mike's old insanity-journal. And I had no idea he was even there.

Wait, it gets better. I checked, and there's more writing here than there was before (I'll upload some pictures later).

So, Red broke into my house, stole Mike's old notebook, wrote in it, and gave it back. Fairly obvious question here, but... Why? I'll read look over the new stuff some more, but I don't think that it'll tell me why this guy broke in.

Also, I have a gun. Just throwing that out there.

Stuck

Alright. Trying to tackle Red to the ground: apparently not the best idea. The video camera didn't make it any easier. Also, the cops showed up about five minutes after I got back inside. Great timing, guys. For this kind of service I pay my taxes, apparently. At least now I have some kind of visual evidence.

Right. So, all I have to go off of is my minute long clip of video. And there are a few things about it that are damn weird.

1) Static, video distortion, and random bits that cut to black. I never had issues with that camera before, but last night it was pretty messed up. Almost like there was interference. Or something. I tried the camera again today, and it worked just fine.

2) There was a third party present last night. At about :30, they charged from the right side of the screen and tackled Red. It might be worth noting that the distortion took a lower pitch at this point. Also, both Red and the other person (the video quality is too low to even tell gender) were gone when I got back up.

3) I was outside for at least five minutes, but the clip is only a minute long.

This should be the part where I make a guess or propose some kind of conclusion to draw from this. But I can't.

I really don't know where to go from here. Aside from sleeping with one eye open.

...

Well, Mister Red Hood is back. Not doing anything, just standing there outside the window. Staring at me.

Fucker.

I called the cops, they said they'd send someone over. That was an hour ago. Useless bastards.

If he doesn't get his ass out of my yard in five minutes, I'm doing something about it myself.

Ragnarok and Travel Plans

So. End of the world tomorrow, eh? Personally, I'll be waiting it out in my Danger Room. Which is to say, the basement. Doing whatever it is I normally do. Because, like the last fifteen apocalyptic scenarios predicted within the past decades, this one will be a flop too.

It's a shame. I was kind of looking forward to grabbing my shotgun and fighting off the undead/demonic horde.

Anyway, within the next few days I'll be taking a short trip to West Virginia. It's my parents' anniversary, and they're trying to get the whole family together again. So, my little investigation will probably have to be put on hold until I get back.

Also, I can't seem to find that notebook. Which is odd, because I haven't touched the damn thing since I took the pictures I posted here. Eh. I'm sure it'll turn up.

Funny.

Apparently, our friend Mike had a blog that he posted on a few times before his untimely demise. Someone gave me a link to it, but it had been taken down. Still, the URL itself gave me a couple of clues. It was http://www.thearchangelcomes.blogspot.com.

"The Archangel Comes." If that doesn't sound like some cult slogan, I don't know what does. Still, it's a shame the blog was taken down. It might have given me a few clues.

I still don't have any idea why they can't find the body, though.

Visitor

Last night (or, rather, this morning, seeing as it was about 3:00 a.m.) I heard someone knocking on my door. I got up, stumbled my way down the stairs, and listened. The knocking was coming from the back door. In my experience, someone knocking at the back door at night is typically up to no good. I grabbed the fire extinguisher out of the kitchen and kept moving, a bit more slowly. It took me a few moments to get to the door. I tried to stay as quiet as I could, and took a quick look through the blinds.

It was him. Mister Red Hood. Bastard was just standing there. I called 911. For the seven minutes that it took for the cops to get here, we had us a little staredown. That entire time, he never moved a muscle. Just kept looking back. He might have been bleeding. I was too busy trying not to blink to care about that.

Anyway, when the squad car pulled into my driveway, he ran. At least, I assume he ran. I just looked away for a second, and he was gone when I looked back.

Anyway, the cops said that they would keep an eye out and send a patrol car down my street a few times a night. In other words,they have absolutely no idea who this guy is.

Whatever. This is the same guy who stabbed Jeff , I know that. If he comes into my house, let's just say I'll have a little surprise for him.

911

The small bin of things seized as evidence in the investigation also had a file folder which contained, amongst other things, the transcript of the 911 call the police originally responded to.

Dispatcher [D]: 911, what is the nature of your emergency?

Caller [C]: I... I think my neighbor might have hurt himself.

[D]: Can you tell me what happened, ma'am?

[C]: Well, about fifteen minutes ago, I heard shouting coming through the wall. It was only one voice though, sounded like half a conversation. About five minutes ago, I heard this weird, gurgling sound, and then it just stopped. I knocked on his door, but he didn't answer.

[D]: Alright, can you give me the address?

[C]: He kept saying something, over and over. I think it [unintelligible, interference in the line].

[D]: I'm sorry?

[C]: [Pause] I said, the address is [Blanked].

[D]:  [Pause] Ah. Thank you, we'll send someone over to have a look.

Then, not three minutes later:

[D]: 911, what is the nature of your emergency?

New Caller [NC]: It hurts.

[D]: Sir, are you injured?

[NC]: It hurts.

[D]: Sir, can you give me an address?

[NC]: She told you.

[D]: Sir, are you referring to the call from [Blanked]?

[NC]: [unintelligible]

[D]: Sir?

[NC]: [Sound of a thud, then static. The call is dropped.]

So, it looks like Mike decided to call 911, after his neighbor reported strange noises coming from his apartment. Anyway, the ambulance arrived about six minutes after the second call. Our good friend Mike was found dead in a pool of his own blood, and the rest is history.

...

Understandably, I don't like the way this looks.

The Notebook

No, not the crappy chick flick (that sound you hear is half  my female followers leaving in disgust, by the way). The one from the evidence locker. And it's damn confusing.

Strangeness begins with the cover. I could swear I've seen that symbol before.

"embrace the archangel", huh? Maybe this guy had a one-man suicide cult. Also, yes, that is blood. Slitting your own throat tends to have that as a side effect.

Other than what appear to be song lyrics, this is utter nonsense.

 I have really no idea what to make of this.

Or this.

"Preaching to the choir?" More sketchy illustrations, and... what's that in the bottom corner? Paranoid ranting? NOW we're getting somewhere.

Shadows, a door... nope, nothing of use.

If nothing else, this shows that our mysterious Mike was a bit unstable, to say the least. I'll try googling a few of the phrases that came up in here, but I don't think it's going to help me too much. That was all that was in there. So much for this line of inquiry. Next, we'll check the 9-11 calls.

Government Property Get!

Alright, I am now the proud owner of the contents of the evidence locker for that suicide case. These are not things that I'm technically supposed to have. You know, legally. I can't tell you all how I did it, but it involved impersonating a lab tech. Perhaps I've said too much. Anyway, I have everything the cops took as evidence in that case. I'll be taking pictures, scanning pictures, uploading transcripts, the works. Stay tuned, because I just might get to the bottom of this.

Turning point.

Well, I took a little field trip over to Jeff's house, like I said I was going to. When I got there, I had to park across the street. About five police cars and an ambulance were parked in his driveway and in the street. The ambulance was pulling away when I got out of my car and headed over.

I asked one of the cops what happened, and who was in that ambulance. He said that they'd gotten a call that some hood in a red jacket had broken a window at this address and climbed through. When they got here, they found a man (Jeff) lying on the bedroom floor with a knife stuck in his shoulder. Mister Red Hoodie was nowhere to be found.

I talked to him in the hospital earlier today (he should be fine, by the way. The knife missed anything important.) As I expected, he thinks it was the same guy that knocked him down in the parking lot. Which means this wasn't an isolated event. Which, in turn, means someone doesn't want him, or, by extension, me, looking into that suicide case. So, the sensible thing to do would be to drop the whole thing and get on with my life.

Like hell I will. That would make too much sense. Besides, there are a few sources of information I still haven't tapped yet. I'll see if anything comes of it.

What is this I don't even.

Jeff showed up at my door about an hour ago. He came inside, and before he said anything, he handed me this.

 He said that this drawing shows the self inflicted "minor lacerations" mentioned in the autopsy report. After that, he got up and made a beeline for the door. I stopped him for a minute to ask him what was going on. He looked... nervous. Kept glancing over his shoulder, even when he had his back to the wall. He just shook his head and said that he didn't want to talk about it. I let him go after about a minute or so of prying.

Something isn't quite right here. Maybe I'll stop over his place tomorrow and make sure he's alright.

Waiting

Well, Jeff isn't answering his cell phone. It looks like I'll have to wait until tomorrow to get those sketches he promised me.

Until then, I'll be playing Portal 2.

What? I'm allowed to have other hobbies.

Intercepted

It looks like I'm not going to get a chance to see the rest of the autopsy report, after all. My friend had made a copy of the other papers, but... something came up.When he told me what happened, I grabbed an old digital recorder that I have and got him to tell me the whole story again, in detail. The transcript of that conversation is below.

Me [D]: Alright, it's recording. Now, tell me: what the hell happened out there?

Jeff [J]: Like I told you. I was walking back to my car, and some fucker knocked me down, grabbed my bag, and ran off. I found the back-pack lying on the ground about fifty feet away, but the guy was gone and so were those papers.

D: Could you tell we what the man who attacked you looked like?

J: Eh, I dunno. I didn't get a really good look at him. Besides, I think he was wearing a red hoodie, and the hood covered like half his face. I couldn't really have seen much.

D: Was there anything else? Anything at all might help.

J: Umm... well, I think he might have been bleeding. A lot. The chest and neck of his sweatshirt was soaked, and there was some blood on my bag when I finally got it back. [Jeff seems uncomfortable.] Hey, Dan, can I tell you something?

D: Sure.

J: I don't think I really want to be involved in this anymore. You can keep following your little pet project, but I don't want anything to do with it. That fucker doesn't seem to want people seeing those papers.

D: Jeff, I think you're overreacting just a-

J: [Jeff leans forward, whispering now] I think you're underreacting. Some guy practically fucking mugged me in a parking lot, in broad daylight, to get my copy of the report. You can keep researching if you want, but count me out of it.

D: Alright, Jeff. If you really feel that way.

J: I do. [gets up to leave]

Later, Jeff told me that he remembered what the body diagrams in the report looked like, and that he would make me a sketch of them of he got the chance. For now, though, it looks like I'm on my own.

The Thick Plottens

Well, my buddy at the morgue (god, but that still sounds weird) came through. Here's the summary of the autopsy report that he printed off for me. I made sure to blur out the names of anyone who might not want that kind of thing out on the internet. I left in the first name of the dead guy, for obvious reasons.

 

It seems pretty vanilla, if you ask me. Except for the bit about multiple knife wounds on the neck. And the small lacerations on the forehead and chest... I asked my friend if he could get me a copy of the rest of the report. I think I might like to learn a little more about this "Michael"...

I return!

Wow, how long has it been? Huh. I guess I forgot this was here for about... erm... two years. Eh. Seems like I wasn't missed much, anyway. But! I come with something that I find to be worth sharing with the internet. Here's a short blurb I saw in the paper a couple of days back:

A 21 year old man was found dead in his apartment yesterday evening after a neighbor called 911, saying he wouldn't answer his phone and that he hadn't been out of his apartment in over a day. The death was determined by the coroner to be a suicide, but details of the autopsy have been withheld from the public.

Alright, so I know what you're thinking: some poor guy couldn't take it anymore and offed himself. What of it? Well, I happen to have a friend who works at the morgue.

...

Not that there's anything wrong with that. Anyway, there are a few things that he said makes this case weird. First and foremost, they don't have the body anymore. Seems like someone misplaced it or something, which is why they're trying to avoid it getting into the papers. Because, quite frankly, that's just embarrassing.

When I asked him what the other odd factors were, he just shook his head and said he probably shouldn't talk about it. Anyway, I managed to talk him into getting me a copy of the autopsy report. He said that it was risky, but he would have it for me in a few days.

Now, I know what all of you are probably thinking right now: Daniel, why the fuck are you doing this? or, The dude's dead, what does it matter? or maybe even, Are you mentally ill?

To answer questions one and two, I'm a journalism major, it's my job to poke my nose in where it doesn't belong. As for the last one, no, I've checked. Kidding.

Well, that should wrap things up for now. If you want to see what comes of my little investigation, I suggest you stay tuned.