I attended Seventh Heaven High School and was framed for a horrific slaughter on my graduation day.

  • The Beginning
    I don’t remember every last detail. My relationship with my parents was a strained one, that much I can say. They looked for any excuse to shove me through the door of that Hellish facility. Sometimes I think I was the only sane one there, but given my own actions, I have to question that as well. I tried my best to get through each day. In a school like that, though, it wasn’t easy. Teachers were supplying students with drugs, which came from an outside source. I was the only one who refused to be part of this trade.
  • The School
    I have trouble recalling the names of the teachers, since I despised them so much. Even the ones I trusted most turned around and took any opportunity they could to betray me. At the end of the day, I was just a tool to them… another cog in the machine.
  • Poisoned Wells.
    They tricked us into drinking poison. I brought my own lunch every day. When I was young, I had no idea of the effects. I only knew it didn’t look right… didn’t smell right either. Looking back, it’s likely they put their drugs in both the food and the “water”.
  • The Environment.
    These woods never looked right. Nothing in this town ever did. The school, the clouds, the well, the list goes on. The monsters and people? Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.
  • The Homunculi
    The creatures they had us make… I don’t know who was giving them the supplies, but I know that the same ones supplying them were also the ones receiving the finished products. This cyclical trade doesn’t add up.
  • It’s like every little memory connecting back to that place… Those faces… Those words… It ruins me inside. The outside sources are indescribable in terror inducing power.
  • Job.
    I recently applied for my hometown Dollar General. This Seventh Heaven may be a hidden Hell, but I suppose for now I need to work for these devils to serve my own financial needs.
  • The Town
    On the outskirts of Maine, there was a little known place called Secret Grove. This place was … … … I can’t.
  • These photos of me surfaced online. I’m trying to figure out who posted them. Just more evidence of the ones stalking me
    Anyone who decides to get in our way will meet with the same consequences. Lonnie was a smart boy, but he never knew when to stop. His son clearly shares that trait. Jenny, Donnie’s mother, has a long history with us. She is one of our most valued members. Her work with The Betrothed and The Brethren is, by far, among the best. Mommy misses you Donnie. Don’t repeat your father’s mistakes. Fear for the blood tends to create fear for the flesh. Unknown, Silent Hill
  • Plague
    Mentâl illñēßß ran rampant in my school and my entire hometown. Whether it was diagnosed or remained undetectable, it was still never taken seriously. They cared about grades and performance, not our well-being. M6BLØÒD boilS at this thought(fact). It was the case with my father, who died when I was six. death. hell. It rained the day of his funeral… I suppose I’ve always found more comfort in the fog and mist than in the rain.
  • The Ringleader
    I should’ve realized it sooner, but the main supplied of the drugs in the school was the superintendent. He showed no remorse when he allowed a sex offender to remain a coach and history teacher, so why would he have cared about brainwashing the students with locally made drugs? It’s becoming more and more clear to me with time. Now… If I could just figure out who the outside supplier was. This organization, “The Order,” “The Brethren,” whatever they wanna call themselves. I’ll figure this out one way or another, even if it means the death of me. “hell. iContinue reading “The Ringleader”
  • light
  • End?
    “I want to keep the pace I want to figure it out Ivegø55ødøî55hîß2ā6 IF I DON’T EVERYTHING’S LOST” “HAVE YOU EVER REALLY NOTICED THE BLANKET OF SHAME FROM T HE TORMENT AND PAIN As you realize that no one’s everbeen5hê4è. …you can’t escape, it’s always been there. ‘sål2ā6ßb3ëñ5h343.” It’s raining again…
  • Father
    “Fear for the blood is fear for the flesh… and denial of the self Fear of the past is rejection of the future… and denial of the present“ Donnie Maddens, 2021 His name was Lonnie Dean Maddens. He was beaten as a child, and imprisoned at 21 for a drunken crash, which took the life of his 16 year old best friend. He was pinned in the vehicle, watching the life drain right before his very eyes. His time in prison was a large factor in his eventual paranoid schizophrenia. Locked in that cell, he began to see his friend’sContinue reading “Father”
  • land.
    Some time around the early 2000s, my family moved to Secret Grove after the property had been bought by some weird old woman. I never knew much about the lady, but if I remember correctly, she and my mother were well acquainted.
  • thërâpy
    I write. I wrote. I keep writing. I have written. But what âm Ī tàlkíñg about? I didn’t do it. Lonnie Maddens, 2007 Multiple counselors. But I’m right back where I started 14 years ago, if not wørßê. The moon is so pretty.
  • place.
    I’m sitting in my killed car. No idea where I am. The radio is on.
  • Nomad
    I am at my best when I can stay in one place. But that’s not entirely true. I don’t know what my best is. I know what I do, though. This is the second time in the last week that I’ve sat in my closed car with music blaring. The rain and lightning have been scaring the ßhî5 out of me. Fear. Blood. FleshEverything. Constant. It’s raining. Again. Donnie Maddens, Sept. 2021 5 T t An imposing tall figure with some kind of metallic headwear. A long blade clutched in his hand, dragging along the ground. Is it looking atContinue reading “Nomad”
  • prøtotypê
    A lanky young man with claws for hands. At one point he was me. But I still see him. I thought he was gone. I stopped. “No more cutting,” I said. Why is he still here? M The butcher in Whitby? Is he bringing it back? I don’t understand. He’s dead, that’s not possible. “One more morsel.” For a single Gil? Morsengyl? I don’t understand. The yearly census. The ships taken overseas. The harm they did… 💀👻😈👹🖤 And the gang’s all here…
  • elizabeth?
    Gr33ñ. Høpe, Idahø. I know what happened, but The Brethren don’t want you to know Read MORE? “Help me…” ‘cuz I don’t know…” Burn, Inside, 2021 I try to help to leave this world better than I found it. I’t’s ÑØ5 Ffüuuuñn6 … … … … Eclipsing ellipses. Eclectic and eccentric. Donnie will be taken care of soon enough. Never mind this little ramble, he’s just spiraling again. ~Betrothed to the Brethren, as all will be. You’ve revealed too much sir, and we’re frankly fed up with it. We impressed your progress with Dollar General. And we will do theContinue reading “elizabeth?”
    Donnie is grounded. It’s for his own good. We’re sure you understand. Sincerely, The Betrothed & The Brethren. Zampano is rolling in his grave. We saw it. Johnny wasn’t a very good boy. Truancy is not to be tolerated. Alex was doing our Lord’s work. The virus was a means to an end. Elizabeth was an unfortunate casualty. Lonnie was just paranoid. We. Will. Have. Order.
    Read More? Read More…
    FUN FACT ABOUT THE MADDENS FAMILY: Isn’t that fun? Everyone, All of the Time They’re descended from Rumpelstiltskin. Known for selling Widow Silk.
    TO ALL CURRENT OR FUTURE MEMBERS OF OUR ORGANIZATION ______________________________________ High alert has been set for two young men.These names are to be remembered:•Donnie Maddens•Charles Schreiber find them Donnie is a runaway. Chucky is a nosey little weasel. Both of them are bastard children, peeking too closely into our origins. 5 T t These boys will learn one way or another that we are the ones who decide when play time is over. You two know your mothers never meant to hurt you. It’s time to grow up and let us help you. If you’ll simply contribute your intelligence, theContinue reading “WATCHLIST”
  • MIST
    We have dispensed an experimental batch of Widow Silk into the air. To the residents of Forest Prairie, Texas, do not fear. Just breathe in deep, and you will come to see things our way soon enough. This is our message to you, Donnie. W-304 is being developed in collaboration with none other than the great Jennie Coüffàn, your loving mother. ¥ØÜB€LØÑGWΆHÛẞ. THE MISFITS WISH IT WASN’T THIS WAY.THE BETROTHED ARE HERE TO STAY.
  • D_Ø_Ñ_N_|_Ē
    We only sent our field agents to teach you a lesson. Good boys must not tell lies and play the victim. Your mother is very angry with you. The Grand Mother is working tirelessly to restore Secret Grove’s reputation. We can’t have you ruining that for us.
  • This Is Mine
    The Brethren are not going to silence me. This is my story, and it will be told. They won’t be allowed to cover up what happened on Graduation Day. I know what I saw. The lights just went out. I’m keeping notes for myself to try and hold onto what’s left of my sanity. I hear banging, crashing, pandemonium. I’m currently hiding in a dressing room on the stage where we were just minutes ago being handed our diplomas. I knew something was going to happen. I can barely breathe. Hell. I was framed. Lonnie D Maddens, 1980 Like father,Continue reading “This Is Mine”
  • The Nausea
    I’m about to go on stage to receive my diploma. I’ve been in this school for 13 years, ever since I was 5 years old. Throughout all my years here, I think I’ve only grown to hate it more and more with each passing day. I didn’t want to hate it at first, but after my father passed away, I just can’t find any reason to like it… Maybe once I’m finally out of there and able to start my own life, I’ll get over it and move on. Maybe then mom will finally chill out and be proud of me. Here’s hoping.

Should I feel the need, arrangements have already been made to post on YouTube, detailing my struggles ever since I left that place. If only moving locations was enough to escape these creeps. Hopefully, someday soon, they’ll be nothing but forgotten annoyances… as opposed to the demons they currently stand as.