From Where We Were to Where We Are

April 4, 2011

I have lived on the streets my whole life, I guess, when I really think about it. It's not like I didn't have parents, a mom and a dad even, growing up or anything, but I didn't spend much time in the house because it was a shitty environment to grow up in. Really though, things weren't much better in The Bronx. I spent most of my time outside, playing with the other kids in my crummy little neighborhood. 

when things went downhill, when my dad lost his job, the kids I was playing with became gang members, people who could provide me with a way to provide for my family. That's all it was, was a way out. 

I wish I had a fucking way out, now.

I guess what I mean to say is that I don't know how I got into all of this shit, even though I do. I've always been a street kid, and being a member of a gang is a natural extension of that. It doesn't seem all that long ago, me at 15, talking to Harry out on the back porch. I wonder sometimes what it would have been like if I hadn't agreed to join that night. But the money was good, and I grew up really fast after I killed my first motherfucker. You do what you have to to survive. It was easy, really it was. That's what scares me the most, these days, is how easy I killed that first guy.

Back then, when Joshua ran this shit, I knew what I was in for, why I was doing the work that I was doing. Go out, smoke some MJ with a couple of scary-ass guys, run some dope from one place to the next, maybe take care of some guy who hasn't paid up later that night, and bam. Go home for the night with a shit-ton of cash and no worries.

But now it's all fucking different. It's only been six months since that Jessica bitch took over, but God, it feels like years. I wish God had anything to do with this. If He did, she wouldn't even be here, there'd be no way a sane God would allow that inhuman beast to live...Cruella de-fucking-ville, in the flesh, with that crazy fur coat and the matted hair...

I don't know how we got from where we were to where we are.

this is the earliest entry I can dig up in Brad's journals...don't you just LOVE his descriptions of me~? ehehehehe, I just love my coat, but of course he must not have realized it was made out of human hair at the time...he would have appreciated it all the more if he did, I think! I used some of ol' Joshua's hair in the most recent one, his black really sets off the color of my eyes, I think.

.....My darling child, I miss him so...don't you miss him? DON'T YOU?! 

You should. He was the last one of them, those little ingrates of mine, who was actually worth a damn.......

Now that he's gone, I just don't know what I'll do! It's a whole new world for me, and I might not be so nice anymore, without my sweet baby boy to consider. I promise you won't like that, guys. You won't like me if I'm not being so nice as I have been. I ought to find the devil responsible for killing my Bradley, and make them into a nice soup...

...if it's one of you, though, ohhhhh, I have a special plan for you...I'll make you into the newest part of my coat......

Next entry will be up later. I've got business to attend to this weekend!! Toodle-oo!

Mourning

My poor, aching heart! I really truly have been away for too long from my support network!

I see that there have been some of you wondering after me. I understand, truly, your concern, guys. Sweet dears that you are, you thought I'd gone for good and faded into the mists of insecurityobscurity. But OF COURSE, that's now what happened!

I was mourning MY DEAD SON you insensitive prrrrrrrrRRRRRicks!

How did he die you ask?

If you ask that you're a moron! It's all detailed right here in this post from just a few weeks ago. The poor dear, my poor dear son, he was tortured and killed by some horrible demon!

ISN'T THAT JUST TERRIBLE?!

The only thing to console me in my time of trouble has been a diary little Bradley kept in his home, that I discovered after his death. There's quite a lot about the work we've been doing these last few years, he and I! My organization is superb, and I'd hate for all of my son's lovely eloquent writing on the sub ject to go unseen. In the weeks to come, maybe I'll share the most interesting bits with all of you! It would help soothe my bleeding heart, to have others know what a lovely, lovely boy my son was.

He was just the sweetest, I tell you. He was one of those you could just eat right up......

Selfie

Look at this! I found this in poor wee little Brad's journals!!!!

He didn't do my coat any justice, but don't I just look so fucking fuckable and gorgeous?!?!

Caaaaan you feeeel, the LOOOOOOVE toniiiiight??

Because I sure can't!

Hello.

You don't know me, but I know you! Actually that's not true, you know me, because Our mutual Friend here (oh look at him, he's so cute, thrashing around like that) has been talking about me quiiiiiite a lot on this blog.

He even gave me a Name, a new Name, a name that isn't really what I'm called at all but that I like quite a lot, just the same. (His name is Brad, by the way. Funny he didn't tell you that but elected to give me a name over himself) The Monster. It's kinda catchy, innit? More eloquent than my real name, because my parents were uncreative motherfuckers like that. So I'll just yank this title he gave me, here on this ADOOOORABLE little blog, and- oh!

Oh, he's trying to knife his way through the ropes, guuuuys! Guys, follow me, I'm going to

that's better. 

I cut off a few of his fingers with the knife~! ^_^

You know, he knew this was going to happen. From day one, he knew how much I hate people who snitch. I think I'll shoot him in both kneecaps now

BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT FUCKIN HAPPENS TO SNITCHING LITTLE BITCHES LIKE YOU

From the moment Brad entered my organization, my Crime Ring, whatever you want to call it...he knew what happens to those who choose to betray me. It's aaaaallllll over this blog, his FEAR of me. I just love being feared, you know, so very very very much. I'm happiest when people fear me. When people fear me, they stay out of my way, they do what I want! and that just gets me feeling all giddy inside! Brad feared me, you can see it in this blog, and yet he chose to deliberately leak information about me to the internet! The scandal, guys, I tell ya! The scandal!

So you see, I had to take him out. And I have to cut out his tongue right now because a.) he won't be needing it anymore, and b.) it looks soooooo delicious when he SCREAMS.

there. Got that taken care of.

I think I like this blog thing! It looks like there's a whole wide world of people out there who use this to talk about what they're doing, who they are, WHERE they are, and all of it seems so...interesting! As long as I don't give out my own information like that rotten snitch Brad then there's no reason I can't follow all of the lovely people who use blogs to talk about...whatever the hell it is you idiots use this shit for. There are even stories about the boogeyman, and other scary creatures, which is the COOLEST SHIT I've ever heard of!

I'll be seeing you around, guys, I promise!! I have to go now, though. I have Brad to take care of, to feed to my boys, and then I'll sleep and wait for tomorrow. I've got a buuuuuusy schedule tomorrow, and I want to be well rested for that.

I'm only human, afterall.

oh God

shes here

The Monster Is Onto Me

It knows. I don't know how it knows, but it does.

Let me back up and explain myself, so that what I'm saying sounds less like some jack-off making no sense on a blog and more like a proper story, at least like a proper explanation.

Last night, me and a couple guys from The Monster's operation were hanging at my place, playing cards. It was quiet. There aren't many quiet days, or quiet nights really, not anymore. So it was nice to sit back, relax, breath in the cigarette smoke of a few buddies and enjoy a few rounds of poker. Plus a few rounds of beer, to go with it all. Nothing quite so warm and fuzzy as alcohol, not when you're scared.

And then there was a knock on the door.

I got up, I answered it, I didn't think anything of it on my way to the door.

But it was The Monster. Standing there, staring at me with those glassy grey eyes that never seem to blink.

"Card games tonight? How about I join you, hmmm, sweetie?"

The Monster talks like that, like it's your best friend and your worst enemy at the same time. It had it's coat on, the one made of human skin-leather and hair, the one that now that I think of it I don't think I've ever seen it not wearing. It didn't wait for an answer to its question; it just strolled into my apartment, the Devil itself entering my home.

I'm never going to feel safe again.

It played cards with us, that was all. Nothing happened. But I know it's onto me. The Monster doesn't make house calls, the Monster never visits unless it's seriously fucking pissed off at you, if it's planning something awful for you. And in the middle of the night, in a room full of scared shitless guys who knew how fucked I was, how fucked they might be just for being in proximity to me, The Monster went on this long rant about how anyone leaking our information is as good as dead. What was the phrase it used? Oh yeah.

"Snitches don't get stitches...they get a visit from me!"

I need to get out of town. Tonight.

Overnight Monstrosity

I heard this one from a buddy of mine, who heard it from his friend.

Sometimes The Monster calls us directly. If you get a call from The Monster, you'd better kiss your ass goodbye. Everyone knows that, it's never a good thing to get a call from The Monster. The boss only calls you if you fucked something up real bad, otherwise someone else calls.

My buddy's friend, let's call him Al, he got a call from The Monster. The boss told Al he was going to get picked up that very same night, by one of ours, and taken to a secret location where he was going to 'collect his prize!'

"Can you imagine that?" My buddy said. "Al knows he's gonna die, and The Monster basically fuckin' tells him 'congratulations'."

Al's prize was a night in an abandoned building. The guy who drove him there, our guy, The Monster put his head on it's wall. No one knows why.

But Al...my buddy says Al came out a completely changed man.

"He said to me, he said 'Man, it was fucked up!' And he was shaking, this hard-ass motherfucker. Just shaking the whole time. He was screamin' nonsense, he'd gone crazy, dawg. 'The walls, they moved, man! They had images of my family, my kids, my wife, and then there was blood! S-so much blood...' he said."

But that wasn't the worst of it.

"Snakes. Giant snakes, that's what Al says he saw. Says he got a text from someone that told him to go up to the second floor, and when he got there, there were giant snakes everywhere, all around him. They were wriggling around and hissing at him. After that, I dunno what the fuck he was trying to talk about. He kept screamin', he was so scared of what the boss did to him, he even banged his head against the wall a couple of times to try and 'make it stop'. I never fuckin' saw him again, after that."

No one did. Al was one of ours, but that doesn't mean shit when you work for The Monster. Whatever he saw, lots of our guys see that stuff, when they snitch or they sell someone out or they fuck up an important job.

You don't ever want to get a call from The Monster.