Santa and Me

I've done it!
I'VE DONE IT!
The Multiverse™ will soon fall to OBLIVION!

I've been working diligently all year, striving to complete this one.. thing.

A few years ago, I discovered a brilliant young scientist who was working with paradimensional resonance or some junk and took him under my wing (ie. held him at gunpoint and forced him to do my bidding; kill your family and friends leverage crap, you know the take). I funded his wild experiments and he made sure I was always with coffee.

He would explain quantum theory (or try to) and I would not sleep through his presentations ever! I payed 110% attention to every word, every detail.
As The Multiverse™ expanded, he expounded.

Just last year, several of the lowest levels of Los Sauces were flooded and we lost progress on several key elements. It was a setback, but only a minor one. We also lost a few investors that put us in the red.
That was a bigger setback.
Dr. Tarantula, greasy maniac that he is, offered to 'loan' us some cash to help get us back on our feet.  He subsequently pulled the rug out from under us and we went spilling out of Los Sauces.
To be refused entry by chickens (of all creatures) was insulting.

It was Henchmen that we turned to, Dear Reader. Henchmen.
Vile beings, though loyal, who were willing to do what it takes to get the job done.
They caught me, my guard down, and pulled me from the edge of OBLIVION's caress.

Through the last year, with strides, I returned. Operation: Kill Kringle 2011 was not a complete bust, for I took from the Fat Man his coveted list.*  With all the names.
All the names and all the addresses.

And all your desires.

And what do i want all this for?

Ü

to burn it all down, of course

Oblivion, Dear Reader, is my only course.
The Multiverse™ has it all. Everything. Every possibility.
The only action that would make any sense, that would have meaning, is oblivion.

Oh poo, I guess you caught me monologueing. Sigh, I guess you're going to try to stop me now.
Aw, shucks, I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you rotten kids.
Oh wait.
I'm not giving you my plan.
I don't make plans.

I also wouldn't tell you any of what I am up to if you had any chance of stopping me.  Operation Kill Kringle 2012 is already over. The Fat Man is already dead.
His sack was removed (long ago, according to his Missus), reindeer captured (barbequed, tasty!), elves slaughtered, and technology reverse engineered by capable robot hands. Better luck next ti ha ha haha. There won't be a next year, kiddies!  Nets.
Santa's reindeer are a different breed, Magnus. They could chew through irradiated cables, mutated. Not keen on the netting. Or the barbeque.

Don't give me that look.
The Multiverse™ gents. And ladies.
And whatevers.
ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.
Look into the face of Oblivion.
Gaze into nothing.

My marvelous weapon, Dear Reader, is yet to be revealed.
It took several raids, some in the dead of night when secrecy can be maintained the easiest. We tramped into others' territory and pilfered what secrets we could.  I did a few drops in Lake Town, had a chilling brunch in Colorado Springs, and got crates full of loot out of New Jersey.
Oh sure, some of it smells.

A combination of alcohol, crow, and actors.

I spent some time up in Seattle, though brief, and came out the other end a more vicious, more determined ghost.  I got down to Portland, up to Yellowknife, across to Kingston, and missed the flight to Essex.
We had more planned, but we don't make plans, so Beijing is right out.

Thanks for all the plans, scientist-types.  Your work is harmless apart, together all is made dangerous.
The culmination is a weapon of awesome power.

Well, weapon is in the eye of, well, the hand of the be-- well, holder.
It's not a weapon, in the right hands.
Fortunately (unfortunately) it's in the wrong hands.
A self righteous prick who's ready to do what it takes to get the job done.
That's right.
A Henchman.
The lowest sub-category of human.
And moreso unhuman, because of the whole.. dead thing.

I choose to behave this way. Whether Henchman, Minion, or Villain.
I am, what I am.
I have served none save myself, even when purposefully serving others.
That just makes me EVIL.
That's a label I can.. live... with.

Here in the NECROVERSE, where all things go when they die, we have learned immense patience.
You will come to us, eventually.
You all will.
It all comes out in the wash, eh?
For all your fury, you remain as you are:

nothing

welcomehomeapocalypse
welcomehome





-AW


*You would think after all these years and the boon technology would be to such a job, why doesn't he just get a GPS? I've spotted a few satellites in my day, one of em had to be from the North Pole.

THIS POST HAS ADS!

Imbecile.

Warehouses are hard to come by.
Empty warehouses used to be easy to find, everyone was always looking for more places to put their stuff.
Mexico is also well known for it's vast warehouse selection.

It's the wonderful seeds of war.
A few warehouses to tinker in, spread the chaos.

That moment when you have to decide between ammunition and personnel.

Very soon, the shipments roll in again. The sorting may begin.
A vault of machine weapons and their various ammunitions and I'm Scrooge McDuck.

THINK OF THE POSSIBILITIES

WAR.
It's a race now.
All out to the finish line.
Yes, THAT finish line.

Don't adjust your set.
Who gets the best toys? What fires shall burn?


-Agent Wraith
Might start a guild.
Maybe even a troupe. lol
Whatever comes next, Ferrymen..

§lenderman Mythos

If you believe a RolePlayer in his mother's basement is scary (what the HELL is wrong with you?), then you are going to believe quite a few things before you're eaten by that bloodthirsty rabbit (remember when you followed it down that dark hole?) and probably a few things after that.

Slenderman (and most of his dopplegangers) is derived not from some legend out of legend (not mentioning the hallucinations that could come from some Legends).  It's not Norse, at least not from what research I've gathered.  Although there is talk about a firewyrm going around, but that's neither here nor there.

From most of what I have gathered, it all began with some contest over at somethingawful.

Very creepypasta.

With all things (it must be said), there comes a price.

Sadly, as a species, you are doomed to failure.

From the 'legend' came a throng of... well, impersonators.

Whoever was first, it matters little now, as history will proclaim the winner (therefore who writes it).

MarbleHornets, EverymanHYBRID, TribeTwelve... the future documentors of late-night YouTubery.

What is my obsession with late night?

From there, all sorts of mischief pops up.

DarkHarvest, BoneCreek, DarkJournal.

Slenderman grows in leaps and bounds.

When you craft something, when you give it life, you must be careful.  When these things are loosed upon the world, whether known or unknown to you, it can take on new life.  It may have the capacity for individual thought.  Sure, you may not be terrified by an eldritch creature from out of shadows, but there are plenty of idiots growing out there who may, and plenty of idiots now who are.

You gave it life, idiots.

Still, much like Eaters of the Dead, to name it is to give it power. To fear it, gives it power.

The human mind (incapable most days of even the most minute rational thought) is exceedingly powerful.  Especially over itself.

Should you believe (blindly) that a fire will not burn you, there is a chance that you may feel no pain.

Oh, your hand's flesh will still sizzle (maybe), you may even feel slight heat (possibly), or you may cringe as you damage your hand for the rest of your (natural) life.

But there is a slim chance (SLIM) that your hand may escape unscathed.

Slenderman is real to many.

He stalks them, he plays proxies of one another, and he may even steal away your children.

For what nefarious purpose?  I'm not completely sure.

There's a 'free candy' joke in there somewhere.

He (or it) has been built up so much that his presence has instilled fear in the strongest of mortal minds.

But, only because they have allowed it to be.

The others (the more disturbing of the lot) are different.

They don't use the mystery or uncertainty for profit-sharing or view hits.

It's a form of control.

There is a chance that there may be a 'copycat' out there, using the joint literary effort of others to perpetuate their stalking behaviors.  Could it be that there are 'proxies' out there, kidnapping, torturing, or perhaps even (gasp! sob!) killing people?

The fact is humans, whether you want to believe it or not, that there are scary things out there that DO go 'bump in the night'.  They may or may not take the visage of legend.

Not that I want to frighten any of you, that would be a mistake.  The human brain doesn't learn very well in a frightened frantic state.

Fear is a powerful motivator!

Just not much for learning.

Except maybe not to think fire won't hurt if you stick your hand in it.

To those of you who are pursued by these creatures, chin up.

They may have all the power since you long ago gave in to fear.

But do not go doggedly into the night, scraping your last meal from garbage bins, succumbing to the inevitable clash when Slendy takes you to the Phantom Zone.

Chin up, Defender.

The world is watching.

-Agent Wraith

(Fourth E)State of Union Address

Greetings!

I am Agent Wraith.

I come to you today with high hopes and aspirations; to explain the policies of Los Sauces, our GLOBAL efforts, and the toxicity of 'heroes'.  I am an Agent of the planet, not concerned with mortal and/or human reactional emotions, the instructor and teacher of all minds, and the occasional I-saw-that-plot-a-mile-away seer who randomly manages to 'see the future'.

Los Sauces has long prepared for the worst.
It is so small, isn't it?  Barely a spec among 'titans'.
Not even really noticeable.
Not really even noticed.
Under the radar for most, on radar for the worst.
Lately, the policy is to finish the day's work in record time (includes PT and KP) so we can relax and enjoy the last bits of the day before slumber.
That policy has a 'shelf-life'.
It's about to expire.

(We have only today; we are not guaranteed tomorrow.)

Truth be told (as far as 'prediction' is concerned), it's all patterns and equations.  When you are able to identify various patterns, discern them; you can 'predict' possible future aberrations and happenings.  You may have been privy or witness to some of these, you may not have.  Either way, my ramblings sometimes produce 'nuggets' of wisdom that take the shape of what-may-come-to-pass.  Really, it's not a 'gift' in the sense I was trained by some mystic (though I may have) or imbued with other-worldly powers (possible); sometimes my limited intelligence grants a modicum of insight (obvious) to be gathered.

It's mostly probability.  If you throw enough crap at a wall, inevitably, some will stick.

I am (Cobra) Commander of Los Sauces, General Executor of Will in this Estate.  I speak to you from a cold, hardened heart; my audience (humans) requires it for the storms that swell and seek release.  I rule this pathetic wasteland with a leathered glove, covering a stolen hand; ready, willing, and able to destroy those who oppose the JUSTICE sought by my benefactors, The Agency.
I would also like to point out my infatuation with FREE SPEECH.
To vocalize is a gift.
There are some on the planet who will stifle it (for varied reasons).  But you have to realize by now that opinions are like assholes.  Everyone's got one.  Most of them are stinky.
You're not going to like everything that's said.
Given.
You're not going to like everything.
Duh.
Don't point your finger at me and tell me what I can't say and expect me to zip it.
That's something akin to a dictator.

And we all know how penis potatoes are good for your skin.

Tyrants of the world, be damned.  Know that I am not here before you to cast doubt on my previous exploits or former 'associates'; I am speaking to you in a manner that was chosen carefully, with words that were deliberated just the same, to say what needs be said.  What few people who read this now will be aware long before the tide... I am common sense, pragmatism, and uncouth vengeance for a war-torn, exhausted, decayed and dying planet.

I, like my forbears, enjoy the 'bashing' and 'tearing down' of 'heroes'; but my leash strains.  I have curbed my enthusiasm, shelved my disdain, and stifled my hatred of you all for far too long.  I do not claim victory in this domain simply by stepping foot in it.  There is no victory here.
There is no 'win' for defeating an unarmed opponent.
There is no 'loss' for those who long ago gave up.

'Heroes', 'villains', RLSH, RLSV, Republicans, Democrats, officials, criminals, teachers, students, vampires, monsters, civil servants, servants, slaves, angels, demons, archangels, antichrists, antipopes, dictators, charlatans, liars, clowns, 'furries', nerds, champions, losers, elephants, oliphaunts, midgets, dwarves, hobbits, and Ross Perot.. you are all humans.

Notice the effect these 'heroes' have had.  They represent kindness, supposedly inherent in human nature, to inspire others to care and take care of the weak and unfortunate.  They also represent the WORST of human nature: the biased, bigoted, racist, fearful, spite-filled lunacy humans recognize but (mostly) always deny.
'Villains' cannot be lumped completely into these two distinctions, because 'villains' (as far as I have seen) are an unruly and fractious lot.  Some can be categorized, others not so much.
They all have 'inspired' others; both to do 'selfless' acts and 'care for their fellow man', both to do so unrecognized and to rail for recognition.  Their glorification has also inspired 'tagalongs' and emulators, wishing to follow in their 'mentor's' footsteps.  Their self-proclaimed self-righteous supposed selfless behavior has instigated a LEGION of followers and 'leaders'.  Their acts of 'bravery' and 'sacrifice' have inspired both imitators and opposition.
A spiral appears.  A twisting vortex of pain appears.
An inevitable crux, where the 'heroes' meet their 'villainous' counterparts (not for CHARITY) looms.
All who follow this path are doomed.

When the cries become too loud, the masses too massed to be ignored.. there will come a JUDGEMENT.  Your identities, your masks, your secret faces.. will be torn from you.  You will be forced to see the world as it is instead of through (sometimes beer-soaked) optimistic goggles.  You will be forced to crouch (in a BAD way) before the tribunals of REAL tyrants and 'evil-doers', forced to admit your hot-headed (embarrassing) behavior.  You will face (sans spandex) true justice.
True evil.

Hear me now, humans.
One last cry before the death knell.

You are all going to die.

Not exactly a surprise, is it?  As soon as you're born, you're dying.  A slow approach for some, others a bullet-train of destruction; all will perish in the coming tumult and NONE will be empowered to save a single soul.  Your bodies are frail, your minds are weak, your will is sapped, and your survival impossible.  Grasp this with firm fists, humans.  Take heed of these words:

You have only today.  You are not guaranteed tomorrow.

I have come to see you all as a threat to the survival of the planet, but this is untrue.  It was a fool's dream to cast that responsibility upon you.  No, you are no longer a threat to the continuation of life and the sustainability of Earth...

You have destroyed it.

For that, I become your worst nightmare.  Your paranoia will only increase.  Your desperation (the lonely, cold, sleepless nights, eyes struggling to stay open) will intensify.  I am out there.  I am watching.  Waiting.  I will be the monster in the dark.  I will be the terror that grips your heart in your sleep.
My shadow eats at me.  It has taken hold.

My forces were marshalled long ago, fanatical in our goal:
Stop the destruction of Earth.
The realization of this futility was seen and ignored.  Sometimes, you must persevere in the face of opposition (madness), futile though it may be.  The end was all the justification we needed.
Justice can no longer be served.
Winning is no longer an option.

This is MY 'Fourth Estate'.


Extinction, ladies and gentlemen.

Now leaving 'Heroes and Villains', departing soon for our final destination:

OBLIVION.

VERY relevant:

CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE not suitable for those with weak constitutions.

-Agent Wraith
p.s. One last thing. If you thought I was cryptic before (and somehow didn't find all the Easter Eggs), just wait. It's going to get brain-damagingly CONFUSING up in this b*tch.


Good bye.