I did it. I feel like I should be shocked, in a way. I pulled off the greatest disappearing act in the entire galaxy. The entire universe. And you all fell for it harder than I expected.
Allow me to introduce myself. I am Puppet. And I am the same author as the blog "An Only Puppet." I didn't die, and I am very much alive. In case you're running into me for the very first time, allow me to elaborate further.
Four years ago, I started a blog titled An Only Puppet. It was initially part of a Life Science class, a project that required us to document our daily lives or any interesting activities worth sharing with the world. Not even a month after, people started turning up butchered. The city was invaded by black-headed beings who gradually emptied my city. The one who tried to take me was met with force, and I injured and left it in the forests that surround this place.
It was almost like an invasion of sorts. A mass abduction. The black-headed beings came, took us, and left. But I didn't go, and neither did the one that tried to take me. So we were stuck in this damn city together. Eventually, it found me again and took me to the world it belonged to. And it tortured me for my unwillingness to accept my fate. I faked an attempt at my own life to ward them away.
Not only that, there was one entity that had a strikingly similar appearance to me, affectionately named "Norman" by the followers of my blog. He existed solely as a paradox, and paid the price.
And then I was presented an opportunity to escape this place and join an allegiance. An allegiance that based its survival of a particularly tall, slender entity around feeding it children. Looking back on that, maybe I should have accepted that offer. It would have been a hell of a lot easier than what I've been doing lately, which has been staying out of Their sights. But I digress, I declined the offer. That decline would have meant one of the crazier ones coming all the way out here to slit my throat.
So I killed myself.
Not really, obviously. I drank a nifty potion that was used in ye olde days. It has been featured in such lovely works as Romeo and Juliet. A type of "poison" that slows your heartbeat to a near stop and silences your breathing. When they checked my pulse, it was gone. My breath was stopped. I was cold and unconscious.
And then I awoke some time after. The air around me was vibrating and the sky looked broken. I've never seen anything like it before. It's as if reality was starting to become fiction. The world around me was no longer my world, it was foreign. I ran for my life into the forest, I didn't stop for hours. The adrenaline must have been enough to kill several steroid-driven men because this all happened minutes after I woke up. My muscles were still sore, but I never noticed until after I escaped.
But it is an absolutely terrifying thing seeing what a broken world looks like. I can still see it in my dreams. It's indescribable.
I made it out of the boundary of my abandoned city. And just as I made it out, I saw it all vanish. It was all just gone in a heartbeat. It was there one second, and it collapsed in on itself the next. All that's left is what looks like an emptied lake bed that has a quiet hum and vibration to it.
So I've been wandering the East Coast for a while. Trying to stay away from Them. The ones who first invaded my home and destroyed my life. They're sending thousands of their soldiers or whatever into this world. They hide and kill anyone I associate myself with. Anyone I try to seek help from. They're ugly, disgusting entities that have absolutely no remorse.
I'll address what exactly happened since the day I woke up and escaped. I need to change locations first.
But before I go, I wanted to address someone from the dark days of that empty city. Stan Frederick. The man who offered me the choice of survival or the opposite. I've kept quiet for all this time, but I still watched your channel from the shadow and a closed-shell system. I didn't know if your psychopathic counterpart at the time was any good at technology. I've watched you struggle, and I've seen your remorse. Your growing into who you are today is what inspired me to come out from the dark and tell my tale. I'm so sorry for what you had to go through, but you fought it. You beat it once, and you keep on beating it. Next to nobody has the privilege to say that. Keep fighting for the ones who can't.
And I forgive you. Because it wasn't you.
I'll post again when I can. Until next time.
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