The Nausea

I feel so sick. I feel as sick as I did when I went to that school. I can’t tell if it’s because of the Widow’s Silk, natural causes, or my own fvck|ng head. I still don’t feel as sick as I did on Graduation Day, though.

Continue reading “The Nausea”

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.

Continue reading “D_Ø_Ñ_N_|_Ē”

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.

Mî߆_W-³⁰¼

¥ØÜB€LØÑGWΆHÛẞ.

THE MISFITS WISH IT WASN'T THIS WAY.

THE BETROTHED ARE HERE TO STAY.

WATCHLIST

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.

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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, the breakthroughs and revelations are unimaginable.

Start writing…

ẞ5â45 24858ñg…

“Your mother left your father to save you Donnie. She tried her best. She wants you to open your eyes and realize the damage you’ve caused. The damage you continue to cause. We know you’re going to see this.”

The Betrothed

👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️

👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️⚫⚪⚫👁️

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…

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. Flesh
Everything. Constant.

It’s raining. Again.

Donnie Maddens, Sept. 2021

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An imposing tall figure with some kind of metallic headwear. A long blade clutched in his hand, dragging along the ground. Is it looking at me? Is it human? Is it alive?