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  • Narration.wmv
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  • I know this is a bit of a long story, but I really need to come forward with this. Perhaps this will save someone's life, perhaps not, at least you can take this as a warning at the very minimum. A couple of months ago, I changed schools from one in New York City to one in western New York-more woody areas. It turns out I couldn't live on-campus as I changed schools too late into the year, so I ended up living in a small home (belonging to a cousin who away studying in Europe) about five miles outside campus. "THE NARRATION IS COMING" and his legs.
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  • I know this is a bit of a long story, but I really need to come forward with this. Perhaps this will save someone's life, perhaps not, at least you can take this as a warning at the very minimum. A couple of months ago, I changed schools from one in New York City to one in western New York-more woody areas. It turns out I couldn't live on-campus as I changed schools too late into the year, so I ended up living in a small home (belonging to a cousin who away studying in Europe) about five miles outside campus. The only problems were that it was off any major roads and that it was in the middle of the woods, but I was in a "safe" community with neighbors thirty feet away and a watchman who patrolled the neighborhood who stayed up at night. For the first couple of weeks at my new school, nothing out of the ordinary happened. A lot of work was put on my shoulders and I often spend my nights studying instead of sleeping, but nothing wrong happened. My neighbors seemed fine, I didn't have problems with anyone, everything seemed normal. That is, until the day I went home and found my house had been broken into. When I came into my driveway, I found my door kicked open, the doorhandle imbedded in my wall and... what I can only describe as... an oily, black substance, that looked something like thick motor oil, running down my stairs. Naturally, I took out my phone and dialed 911, but when I got to the responder... the line dropped and my phone died, even though it had full battery. I ran up the stairs to go into the house, but as I put my feet on the top stair, I slipped, and fell in the black substance. Some went in my mouth (God knows how) and it tasted like a bitter cough syrup of some sort. Suddenly I was in the living room of the house, even though I had no memory of getting up and going in, and I reached for the phone to call the police. As I dialed the number I had this feeling of sleepiness that I had never felt before; it was almost like a wave that came over me. I collapsed on the floor and passed out, but before I could close my eyes I heard quick footsteps moving toward me and a shadow passing over myself. A couple of hours later, I woke up with a feeling of depression. I looked around and saw that a laptop had been placed with arms reach beside me. Strange, I thought, as I don't own a laptop. Examining the outside, I found that the laptop had a red-like color to it, although there were patches of green and brown about it at odd places. It was smaller than any laptop I had ever seen, and there were no company logos or names on it like there usually is with a laptop. Perhaps the strangest detail of it was that there were... bumps and indents, like it had been crushed or seriously broken in some way. I opened it, thinking it wouldn't work, but to my surprise it did, and it opened onto a video player like one you would see in the full screen on YouTube. At first, I thought it was YouTube, but I couldn't find any button that would go to a smaller screen. The only image I saw was a black screen, with a white triangle in the middle that was a play button. Summoning my courage, I pressed the button and the video began. It began with some words over a black screen: "narration.wmv". After about five seconds, they faded without a sound. Then there was a bright flash, and the screen faded onto a child's face in close-up. He was about eight or so and had blond, curly hair, white skin and blue eyes. He began to talk after about two or three seconds, but the sound was distorted, and I could hardly make out words. After my ears got used to the distortion, I started picking out whatever the boy was saying: "My... dad.... make... speak.... here.... torture... search.... you... next... God.... you..." After he spoke for about thirty seconds, the camera zoomed out and I saw the child in full view. He was sitting on the floor against a white wall, completely naked. After a couple of seconds, a hand handed the child a razor blade and the child took it. He looked at it for a couple of moments, and slowly began to smile. Then, in one fluid motion, he slit his wrists as a deafening scream came off of the speakers. As the blood poured out of his hands, he laughed and ran towards the camera, showing his bloody palms. As he reached the camera, the scream still continuing, a montage of different images flashed quickly. Each one lasted for about two or three seconds, and was... beyond unsettling. The first was of a horse, lying on its side, a gun resting near it. Blood was streaming from its eyeballs and its throat had been blasted open. The strangest part was that its teeth had been removed from its mouth, and stabbing into the rest of its body. The second image was of a man. He was lying on his back, his mouth open, and again, with his teeth pulled out of his mouth and stabbing into his body. His eyes had rolled back into his skull and his ears had wooden stakes through them. On his chest were written the words/ "THE NARRATION IS COMING" and his legs. which had been removed from the torso, had been written on, too: "NARRATION". The third image was of a cat, impaled into a wall by a steel pipe. Its teeth were removed again and stabbing into its body, this time in a crucifixion like pose. Its head was almost clean off of its body, just being connected by a little bit of attached spine. The fourth and final image was of a shadow on a city street. In the left hand of it was a knife, dripping with what I assume in blood, and in its right hand was a shotgun with smoke coming out of it. On the ground, with the shadow over it, was again some writing, the words, "HERE IT IS". The screaming got even louder at this point, but then the image faded to black. The image then faded to a city street, and the camera was now moving down it. A voice was speaking now, and I assumed this was the narration. "Have you thought about your pathetic life? Have you?" The voice boomed with laughter that made me sick to my stomach. "I bet you haven't. Hmm. Standard people don't. You are one of them." The camera stopped moving and stayed still, looking down the city street. "You made an error. A common, everyday error. You moved into my realm." The camera began to slowly move left at this point. "All those images you saw? Those were a few of my victims. The cat, the man and the horse. They all came here, in this part of New York, for one reason or another. You came here. You came to this forest, at this house, you moved here. You invaded my territory. And now I will attack." The camera had now turned 180 degrees and stopped. The face of the boy from earlier had appeared and he smiled. "You are next." The boy collapsed in a pool of blood from his wrists. "And here is your script." The voice laughed as the video ended. The video ended and closed itself. A word document now took up the screen. It was a script of great length, talking about things like suffering and torture. It disgusted me, and as I looked up, I saw... I saw... a man. He was about six feet tall, and smiling. This, horrible, horrible smile. I screamed and he walked out of the room. As he left, the black oil from before appeared on the floor in its footsteps, and like before, some was in my mouth and I passed out. For the last six weeks I haven't left the house. He's stopped me from leaving every time I try to, by emptying my gas tank or killing the phones every time I use them. When I go to sleep, he appears at my bedside, smiling, saying that I need to practice for "my last act". I really didn't know what to do... so one night I went downstairs and got the laptop and opened the script. He smiled and said that I was doing something right for once and that I have two weeks to prepare for my last act. Today is the last day in those two weeks. In a few minutes, he'll come in with his camera and we'll go into the basement and I'll sit against the white wall and say my lines. Then he'll give me a razor blade, I'll look at it and... and the cycle will continue with my cousin as his next victim. I.. don't know what to say or how to end this considering these are my final words to the world. I think the only thing I should say is that if you ever come up to this part of New York, this woody, far away from civilization part of New York, do yourself a favor and get out of here. Otherwise... otherwise... you might have to continue his narration.