Tuesday, January 4, 2011

More On the Puppet Problem

I caught a glimpse of a Hallowed today. Not for very long; I was downtown researching a story, saw someting strange, and by the time I realized it, he (I think it was a male) jumped out of sight down an alley and to be honest, I didn't care to follow.

Hallowed are a different kind of enemy entirely from what we've been dealing with so far. Unlike our primary concern, they present a key problem: they are human. This presents two main difficulties.

Firstly, human implies human nature. They were not always in service of their Slender boss, after all. Each and every Puppet has a complete history; each of them was five years old and laughing once. How do I come to terms with the fact that what I'm fighting isn't guaranteed pure evil anymore? Do I convince myself that they're all complete monsters like Albert Conaghan? I know that can't be true.

But this brings us to the next, arguably more important problem. Humans are physical. The Slender Man is dangerous, yes -- you don't have to tell me that, after what happened in the woods of Rocks -- but I was able to get him away from that little boy by, as far as I could tell, using my mind. Humans are capable of wielding knives, guns, and brass knuckles, all of which have shown a certain difficulty in fending off with one's mind. I've never been very physical, not even able to tolerate much pain (that's actually somewhat of an understatement; I'm such a wuss that my poor hypochondriac mother is convinced I have some rare nerve disorder).

If some Puppet gets the clever idea to drag me into a dark alley and off me himself, there's a very real possibility that I won't be able to stop him.

On the bright side, the increased presence of Hallowed presents a couple of other optimistic possibilities:

1.) The boss is sending out his peons because he doesn't want to come near me himself. This is very comforting to me.

2.) Detective Goldman recently told me that he is a third degree blackbelt. He also has access to, and considerable knowledge of, firearms (you gotta love cops). He's agreed to show me a thing or two about fighting off an attacker, and he and my father are going to take me to the shooting range soon. I've been there before -- we do live out in the country, after all, and everybody and their mother is packing around here -- and I'm a natural good shot.

This second point came up after I told Detective Goldman that I think I'm being followed by someone. He chalked it up to post-trauma and told my dad. My dad, in turn, suggested the shooting range, and he's also thinking about getting me a little .22 for my purse. Honestly, I'm not so thrilled about carrying around a gun, though. Not after what happened when Vi thought it was a good idea.

I don't know. This certainly changes the game. Speaking of Violet, she's getting restless. Maybe it's just from being away from the city and so near the country woodlands. But she still looks better than before, restless or no. She'll be fine once she gets back to school.

I never wished you guys a Happy New Year, by the way, and that was rather rude. Happy Belated New Year, guys. Let's try to make it a good one.


  1. Happy New Year. I say if a Hallowed comes after you, lock and load. :]

  2. Happy New Year Celeste - just out of interest, how could you tell for sure that this guy was a hallowed? Are there some distinctive features we should all be looking out for?

  3. Well...to be honest, he just looked like a creep. I couldn't see his face, but from glances I took I know he followed me for a while. The instant I turned around to let him know that I knew, however, he jumped away.

    So, technically, I suppose I can't be sure. Maybe he was just a normal creeper. But I doubt it.

  4. A bit late here, but here's hoping for a good and safe New Year. We can try.

    As for the gun, it might be a good idea, it might not. At the very least, get some pepper spray. It won't stop the big guy, but the Hallowed are still human. And that shit hurts.


  5. I don't want to be condescending here, but why the .22s?
    Just about every account I've read has stated "Guns don't work...I shot at him with a .22!"

    When being chased by a faceless, Eldridge evil, the first thing you reach for shouldn't be the smallest caliber in existence.

    I've seen squirrels take more than one shot from a .22 before they go down. SM is larger than a squirrel.