So I completely forgot I was writing these. I did two, but just remembered, and I’m bored with nothing to do. I could do some cleaning, but this place, no matter how hard I’ve tried, physically can’t. I’ve used every brand, and diy cleaning technique that the internet could give me, and I still couldn’t clean this place. Cobwebs, granted, are easy to get rid of, but no matter how many spiders I kill they keep making more webs.
We recently had this place cleaned of all rats and spider nests, so I’m confused WHY THERE IS STILL SHIT ON THE FLOOR. There are so many rat droppings and I’m sorry but this has become a deep conceited rant, but the worst part is the irremovable stain. No amount of scrubbing, washing, prepping, ANYTHING can get rid of it. It’s a large brown stain in the shape of a wobbly X. You see it on the other side of the wall from the entrance. You’d think it’s a simple fix, by just replacing the wall that’s there, and we have. But but but, the next day there it is again, the brown stain. It’s not a leaking problem, as we’ve had guys come to inspect it.
Okay, calm down. That’s not what I’m here to write about. I’m here to explain to you this weird thing I’ve found about my search history. Okay that sounds weird but I can’t think of a better way to word that, so hear me out before you think this is me not clearing it. Well, I mean it is. But not in the way you first thought of.
Things have been searched, by my guess, Sleep Mark, and it’s sort of worrying. So, I have some guesses as to what he’s been up to, but I want to see if you guys can help me fill in the gaps.
I started sleepwalking about 2 years ago. Exactly 1 week after I was hired at the gas station. Obviously I don’t have the history from that long ago. My search engine auto clears it to save on memory, so I have about a month worth of links that aren’t mine.
Do take note I’m not showing guys anything other than surface level links, I don’t feel comfortable with you guys seeing the websites that he was able to get to. I actually found a ton of malware BECAUSE of those sites and had to get a new computer. Part of why I forgot about this whole Post thing.
Here’s the list:
Birthday card
Birthday cards for skinwalker
Are skinwalkers allergic to cats
Do skinwalkers like cats
How to view my host’s dreams
Where do I hide my cat
Where do I hide my cat in a studio apartment
Note: So I have no clue where the cat is, and more importantly who the skinwalker is.
Do studio apartment allow cats
Where to buy cats
Note: A mysterious charge on my card was made on the same date as the search. I now know it was for a cat from a place on the other side of town. But when I went to check out the address, it was gone. As in the building the address was at. I’m actually worried about what’s been going on. This town has always been weird, like the impossible is possible here. But I don’t like how close I am to the cause of some these things. I try to stay away from the paranormal as much as I can, but now I might be the cause of some mysteriously gone building. And that was on the news! Like the next day. That’s why I’m not putting dates on these, you guys might actually try to find where I live through the small details I leave on here.
Where to hide cat food in a studio apartment
How long do canned goods last
Am I ugly
Note: Ow
Why am I ugly
Note: What the hell
How to not be ugly
Note: That’s not even fixable with my budget
How to get a better looking host
Note: None of this helped my self-esteem
Cat training
Do skinwalkers eat cats
Can skinwalkers like cats
How to ask skinwalker what he means by likes cats
Skinwalkers favorite flavor of cake
Birthday pie
Birthday meat pie
Note: An emergency delivery order for a “Birthday meat pie” was ordered and delivered that night. But unlike where Sleep Mark bought the cat, the address for this- bakery? Butchery? Whatever, it didn’t exist. There’s nowhere in my town that sells pies, but the area code is only within my town. So I’m lost on that.
Spiritual Salt bought at our 24 hour store
A line of ritual books I’m not even gonna try to google translate bought at a local bookstore I’m also not even gonna try and translate
2 teddy bears
A ritual knife
1 Grade-B cut of “Unicorn skin”
This list of items cost a total of 40 dollars. Where it is, where he got it, and how I don’t know. But look at this, “Unicorn Skin”? What is unicorn skin for, and where in the living hell do you get. And what’s the difference between grades and why specifically Grade-B? All it said on my card was this list of items in its description, and was titled, trewqpoi. I don’t know what that means. If you guys have clues about this, hopefully some sort of similar situation, please let me know.
But that’s not all I should leave you with. And I need 1000 words to post this anyway. So I’m gonna talk to you all about the pig incident.
It’s not that big of a deal but I feel like giving you a sense of how frequent this sleepwalking has been is important. The thing with Officer O’Conroy is actually a more regular occurrence, as I’ve become more naturally violent. But back to the pig incident.
I woke up in a field. I was dazed, and it felt like I was hit in the head. I wasn’t. I looked down at my legs which felt a weird form of pressure on them, to see six or seven pigs were chewing different parts of my pants. I kicked them away, taking note of my favorite pair of black pants which had been chewed past the point of ever being wearable again. I also took note of how none of the pigs had eaten me alive. They do do that by the way, and a friend told me how if a farmer was to take a nap on a pig farm, he’d be dead within two hours because the pigs would eat him! I thought I had slept there for more than two hours, so I assumed I was incredibly lucky.
I quickly had Will, a tall, heavy set black man with a deep voice to boot, come running over to me. When he finally reached me, he was so out of breath I thought he was gonna die, which made his next question that much more ironic.
Will is one of a small group of farmers in our town. And Will was one of the best, mostly because he was the best at taking care of the, “Special” Livestock. I haven’t seen any of them, he only lets people Will deems “Qualified” to see his livestock because of how dangerous they are. He’s the oldest farmer out of the 12 or 13 there actually are. My only concern is how he deals with them if he’s so out of shape?
Through heavy wheezes he coughed a throaty “You okay?” Even though it sounded more like “You-“ deep breath “Okay?”
I promptly responded with an “Are YOU okay, it looks like you’re about to suffocate?”
He didn’t like my comment, but after standing up, Will caught his breath. While he was busy doing that, I finally got my bearings. It was one of many of the flat plains of grass in our woods. The woods aren’t inherently dangerous but with weird anomalies, and not being able to move the easiest in the woods, lets just say search parties don’t have the greatest success rate. If you even get a search party that is.
While I was lost in thought a huge sweaty hand planted itself right in the middle of my back, and with a breathy voice, Will asked, “Seriously Mark, are you okay?” What looked like a pat on the back, felt like someone took a sledgehammer to my spine, before the pain quickly subsided. That might be how he handles the “Special” live stock.
After he asked, I did a mental check of areas on my body, and didn’t feel any pain. I responded with a shake of the head and an, “No, I’m good,” before getting to the burning question.
“So Will?” He stared at me, still breathing heavily, “Why am I in this field?”
Will’s eyes widened before he asked again, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“YES, Will, I’m all right now tell me what happened.” He looked at me suspiciously, before replying.
“Well, Mark,” He paused, looking for some kind of reaction out of me, as I stood there in the dew covered grass freezing my legs off. “You uh, helped me round up my pigs,” He said gesturing to the now confirmed 7 pigs that had been chewing on my pants. Will must have also counted, because after he did, he did a little bounce, grabbing the straps of his overalls and exclaiming, “And it seems you found another one!” He chuckled to himself before seeing the confusion on my face.
“And,” I stammered, trying to process the new information that was just told to me. “When was this?”
We stared at each other before he said, “It was last night Mark, you were walking around aimlessly, touching everything. I thought you were just high, so I brought you back to the farm an-”
“Wait, wait, wait, what were you doing in town last night.” That sounded accusatory, which it was, but only because Will has a heavy drinking problem, and me and a few of the other people of town are trying to help him quit.
“I was,” He trailed off, “You know” He waved his arms in a dismissive way. I, in fact, did not know. I was fairly certain this was about the beers, but after a couple of seconds I was worried he was trying to get a late night hook-up. But what if that was just to cover up the beer? You know, say it was something embarrassing so I don’t pry about the real thing? But what if that is what he was doing, it’s not really my place to make him talk about it. But, if he was drinking, I wasn’t gonna have it. Last time he got drunk it took 3 bear tranqs to actually get him to pass out and stop throwing people into windows. No one died, but he had to pay everyone for the damages he caused.
“My guess was you were drinking again?” I asked Will flatly.
“Damn it, yes, alright? I was drinking, so what?” He asked, brushing the question away.
“Dude! Three bear tranquilizers!” He tried to defend himself but I cut him off with a final, “You are talking about the drinking with the group after you’re done explaining everything about last night.” He made a weird deep pouting noise, but continued.
“I picked you up from the middle of the street that leads to my farm. Which means you walked a hell of a long time to actually get there. That was around,” He waved his arm dismissively “3:30?”
I don’t remember when but we walked over to his big truck, but I do remember seeing him grab a pig, one with each arm, as I carried one. The other pigs followed as there brothers were being carried off, but all were very willing to get in the truck. Probably because they were eating piles of belts, boots, shirts, basically any article of clothing you could think of. A moment later Will was opening a bag labeled “Pig feed”. I watched him tear off the top of the bag and dump out more clothing into the pile. “That should keep them satisfied until we get back to the farm.” Will informed me.
Once we strapped into his truck and were on the road he continued recounting the events from last night. “So anyway, one of my cows woke up last night and busted out of its pen and was burning everything,” I didn’t miss that “Burning everything” part, but thought not to interrupt more than I had. “And well, some flames got to the pig pen, and the fire scared them and they went running. I told you to stay in the Cabin because it was dangerous, and I went to go take care of the cow.”
He smirked, shook his head and looked at, “Then before I knew it there you were, zooming past me, following the pigs into the tree line, and from the looks of it,” He motioned towards the back the truck, “You subdued those fellas like it was a breeze, and not a scuff on you.” He chuckled again. I didn’t find it funny, since I had put myself in a lot of danger in one night. “Well anyway,” He said “I got the cow’s flames under control, and spent the next two hours trying to find you, and well.” He ended our discussion with a raise of the hand, in a “You know the rest” fashion.
“Well, thanks for everything Will” I waved to Will and tried hopping out of the car.
“You don’t plan to walk to town do you?” He said that a bit more worried than I would have liked.
“Yeah, my shift starts at 6:30, and my bosses would want my head if I showed up late.” I tried chuckling and stopped when I looked back at Will, who looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Wha… What’s wrong.”
Then without explanation the calmest, yet most commanding, “get in” filled the air, and suddenly I was in the passenger seat of Will’s truck barreling down the dirt road back to town at 80 miles an hours, and it went like that for about the next half hour when I arrived in town at my gas station. Before my heart rate could go all the way, I had a letter shoved in my hands as he told me to get inside. Once I was in the gas station, Leroy, my manager, almost blew a top. Until he saw the truck behind me and Will inside it. He grabbed the letter, reading it and then simply said “Don’t let it happen too often Mark,” and then left.
If you’re wondering who Leroy is, he is the manager of the gas station I work at. Thing is he’s gone now. Not gone, just no one sees him. Ever. It’s not a story or anything, he was just there my first 3 weeks of work and I’ve never seen him again. Occasionally hires new people, but that’s it. No call, no warning, just trainees that I have to train.
And that’s the pig incident. Don’t know if that lets you know how serious my condition is, but I do plan to keep writing. Just, sometime need motivation. Well, I haven’t gotten much sleep, so, Until next time, Mark