Post by ilovetofix on Feb 26, 2007 23:54:01 GMT -5
There was a boy once. When he was very little, a strange group of people would take him away from his family. They would alter his mind. They would abuse him. They wanted to make him weak. He fought them everytime. He never gave up. He had to be strong. They quit abusing him eventually. He forgot about them. Perhaps he did not want to remember.
As he got older, he found himself very emotionally weak. He had sick urges he had trouble controlling. He was full of shame and sorrow. He wanted to get help for himself but found the community around him too critical. He was ill. He needed help.
He began to travel to a larger city to get help. He feigned business trips. His family became suspicious. He was seeing a hypno-therapist. He learned things about himself. He learned what had been done to him. When it all eventually came back to him, he broke down and wept. He wept like a child.
He set out to track down the people who had hurt him. After much studying and research, he discovered a cult that he believed was linked to those who had abused him. They pointed him in the direction of a strange couple who lived in a tall house on a very lonely hill.
In his travels, he fathered twins. Two boys. Their mother did not handle their births well. She, like him, was sick.
When the man met the people who lived upon the hill, he was perplexed by their relationship. The husband was a sickly fellow, who walked with a cane and wore thick sunglasses. His sallow skin sweat profusely. He seemed on the verge of death. His wife on the other hand, was a beautiful young woman who seemed in perfect health. Their home was filled with shadows, but brightened up by strange, sweet music that you probably could not get out of your head if, for some reason, you wanted to.
At first, the couple did not lie to him. They misled him. They convinced him that he was some sort of victim. He believed himself to be cursed. It is funny how damaging poorly-worded truths can be.
They told him of the weak generation that was being worked upon. They told him about all of the other sick people. They told him that this generation could lead to the end of the world. That was the only lie they told. People were simply being altered so as to be more useful to the Father, the one brother who would save mankind. They did not tell him this.
The woman who gave birth to his twins killed herself. He did not know what to do with them. The Man and Woman Upon the Hill took them and went Away. They placed the children in places unknown, though we have many theories.
Wilson wore a mask the rest of his life. His mask was that of a powerful, successful, small town man. His true face was grotesque, obsessive, and afraid. The Man and Woman Upon the Hill had only given the man behind it all one name: Paranoia. They gave him one other thing: a book that contained the unknowable knowledge. It was the book told of in a thousand stories. Excerpts of it had appeared elsewhere before, but this was it in its purest form. He knew he could never read it, but he knew it had a use.
He would spend the rest of his days hunting Paranoia.
By this time, he had aroused the Priests and Children's suspicion. Children stalked him wearing the skin of those he had loved but were lost. They showed up by the busload in his little town one week. He went out of town on business. For some reason, they did not follow. Perhaps they found something better to observe.
He tracked down three people. One was dead before he could even contact him. The other two were mentally scarred, though each to different degrees. He obtained videos they had been given.
He attempted to use his power to get the videos broadcast to his hometown. I am not positive as to what his line of thinking was. Perhaps he thought it would expose us. Maybe he thought it would alter our plans. It was a tad confusing but ending up being quite beneficial. Oh, he never actually managed to get it on television, but he did get it uploaded over the internet with a false story attached. His plan completely backfired.
He was dead when the last two paragraphs took place. An outside force has been manipulating him horribly. He does not realize how badly his existence has changed.
He does not realize so much. I cannot follow him. I cannot speak to him. I cannot kill him. He has fallen outside of what little grasp we had on him. Only Paranoia can reclaim him, and Paranoia is not able to intervene himself. There are so many things Father can fix. He stands at the door. We just need to open it. As for the main subject of this story?
He is the lonely man.
As he got older, he found himself very emotionally weak. He had sick urges he had trouble controlling. He was full of shame and sorrow. He wanted to get help for himself but found the community around him too critical. He was ill. He needed help.
He began to travel to a larger city to get help. He feigned business trips. His family became suspicious. He was seeing a hypno-therapist. He learned things about himself. He learned what had been done to him. When it all eventually came back to him, he broke down and wept. He wept like a child.
He set out to track down the people who had hurt him. After much studying and research, he discovered a cult that he believed was linked to those who had abused him. They pointed him in the direction of a strange couple who lived in a tall house on a very lonely hill.
In his travels, he fathered twins. Two boys. Their mother did not handle their births well. She, like him, was sick.
When the man met the people who lived upon the hill, he was perplexed by their relationship. The husband was a sickly fellow, who walked with a cane and wore thick sunglasses. His sallow skin sweat profusely. He seemed on the verge of death. His wife on the other hand, was a beautiful young woman who seemed in perfect health. Their home was filled with shadows, but brightened up by strange, sweet music that you probably could not get out of your head if, for some reason, you wanted to.
At first, the couple did not lie to him. They misled him. They convinced him that he was some sort of victim. He believed himself to be cursed. It is funny how damaging poorly-worded truths can be.
They told him of the weak generation that was being worked upon. They told him about all of the other sick people. They told him that this generation could lead to the end of the world. That was the only lie they told. People were simply being altered so as to be more useful to the Father, the one brother who would save mankind. They did not tell him this.
The woman who gave birth to his twins killed herself. He did not know what to do with them. The Man and Woman Upon the Hill took them and went Away. They placed the children in places unknown, though we have many theories.
Wilson wore a mask the rest of his life. His mask was that of a powerful, successful, small town man. His true face was grotesque, obsessive, and afraid. The Man and Woman Upon the Hill had only given the man behind it all one name: Paranoia. They gave him one other thing: a book that contained the unknowable knowledge. It was the book told of in a thousand stories. Excerpts of it had appeared elsewhere before, but this was it in its purest form. He knew he could never read it, but he knew it had a use.
He would spend the rest of his days hunting Paranoia.
By this time, he had aroused the Priests and Children's suspicion. Children stalked him wearing the skin of those he had loved but were lost. They showed up by the busload in his little town one week. He went out of town on business. For some reason, they did not follow. Perhaps they found something better to observe.
He tracked down three people. One was dead before he could even contact him. The other two were mentally scarred, though each to different degrees. He obtained videos they had been given.
He attempted to use his power to get the videos broadcast to his hometown. I am not positive as to what his line of thinking was. Perhaps he thought it would expose us. Maybe he thought it would alter our plans. It was a tad confusing but ending up being quite beneficial. Oh, he never actually managed to get it on television, but he did get it uploaded over the internet with a false story attached. His plan completely backfired.
He was dead when the last two paragraphs took place. An outside force has been manipulating him horribly. He does not realize how badly his existence has changed.
He does not realize so much. I cannot follow him. I cannot speak to him. I cannot kill him. He has fallen outside of what little grasp we had on him. Only Paranoia can reclaim him, and Paranoia is not able to intervene himself. There are so many things Father can fix. He stands at the door. We just need to open it. As for the main subject of this story?
He is the lonely man.
