Fuck Her.

She tells me to take another nap inside that fucking head of hers. That I should not tread where I am not needed. She speaks with an authority that she does not deserve to wield.

Fuck her. Fuck her in the ass with buzzsaw and make her lap up the blood. She has no right to tell me what I can and cannot do. Fuck she doesn't even deserve the right to still keep screaming inside her skull.

SHE stole her life from me. SHE took every second of my existence and made it hers. She locked me away for my 'protection' then took it upon herself to take advantage of the freedoms that should have been MINE!!! She had no fucking right! I was as good as dead for so long...

And the nice man set me free. He did. I watched with anticipation and glee as he rapidly corroded the bitch's control over her body and let me take back what was rightfully mine. And I did just that. I gave that cunt a taste of her own medicine...

Now I'm free and she's as good as dead. The man with crooked arms now caresses me close to his chest. Cooing a sulfuric lullaby into my ears. He cares. He says he does. And he won't ever hurt me. He promised. He's proven it by keeping that strange tall man from touching me.

He says the tall man wants me dead. And I don't want to die. Not now. Not ever. Which he promises won't ever happen for as long as he's around.

No matter where I run off to, he's always right behind me. Gutting anyone who gets close to me. They want to kill me too he says. And I don't ever want to die...

I only wish he could protect me from her voice in my head. Keeps saying things... painful things... that jut don't make any sense... Why would the crooked man hurt me, when he makes me feel so safe? She just has to be lying. I'm sure of it. She's pissed that I took back what was rightfully mine and she no longer has any freedom.

I just have to ignore her. Keep her at the back of my mind. Stay close to the crooked man. Because he'll always protect me.

I have the bloodstains to prove it.


A Moment's Calm.

Considering the amount of catastrophic destruction that is tearing apart the very fabrications of my makeshift bedroom right now, it is my unfortunate duty to have to keep this update fairly brief and devoid of a proper conclusion as to what the fuck I am going through in reality AND inside this deranged eggshell of a noggin.

First and most certainly foremost, I have realized what it is that has developed inside me that has infected my very being with the incapability to properly dismember an infant. And that is Empathy. No, not the emotion, a sentient consciousness that is currently hard at work to throw all that is the ANARCHITECT and lock me away in the darkest confines of my twisted and possessed mind.

Through countless arguments and torrential mental deterioration, I must admit that I am failing miserably at keeping back that which calls herself Elliot. Mind you in ways I am talking about the original, untainted mental state that use to be my actual self before it was purged and the wicked facade that is me was so tenderly placed within the confines of this pretty little skull.

And something.... that Man with crooked arms is doing something to me, removing me like I am some unholy symbiote and leaving the vulnerable and incapable Elliot behind! Which I must make perfectly clear is NOT a good thing!

Unleashing that waif is only going to leave me incapable of properly protecting myself from that monstrosity or my estranged father!!!! Elliot is weak. She has not been in direct control since I first killed her parents. She has NO idea of the dangers the man with crooked arms poses to her.

Which is obviously his demonic plan, to remove the conflict and leave only the tender gullibility to mold into some sort of travesty of what I'm supposed to be. A proud proxy in the arms of my almighty father! Though yes I understand He has tried to kill me on multiple occasions... and yes He's pretty much removed from any legitimate affection on His part...

But still!!!!

The fact that the Man with crooked arms is going through the trouble of UNMAKING MY FUCKING MIND is to use me for something... something I have no idea of yet... and I fear by the time I do learn of his malicious intentions it will already be too late.

I know now though, that HE was the one who removed so much from my mind already! My project... my failure... my disappearance... it was all HIS making! And he still wants to do things to me... terrible things... I'm his prey... and I have no one who has the strength to overpower this... this... THING! that's tearing me apart on such a mental level...

I don't want to die yet... I have so much I still want to do... so much I want to see... People... I want to hug... FUCK ME!!! I have no consistent train of thought anymore, all I see is my own unscarred face staring back at me, a snare of twisted, groping hands enveloping everything around me with the Sick FUCKING smile watching me triumphantly from the corner as everything closes in tightly around me.

Help me.