Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Journal Entry #4: Train Station

Well, it looks like your humble narrator has gone and landed himself a decent promotion at work! I've been in the thick of things with moving office and all the training that goes with a new position. I'm really happy about it, I'd been stuck as a payroll clerk for five years already and being a manager is more my cup of tea.

I have a problem with authority.

So, last night I decided to try the next journal entry and see where this magical little tour might take me next.

Entry #4 is a little longer; Grandpa goes into some unsettling details about Green Wake, which is becoming a reoccurring theme it seems. The weird'o'meter is slowly climbing to new levels.

I've waited a few days to journal any further. The reality is, I'm stuck here with no clue how to return home. I've been trying to come to grips with this, wrestling between not understanding how it's possible and why I'm even here. 

Today I had to leave my home, I'd locked myself inside since I left the farm. I've noticed, curiously, that most of the residents in Green Wake do the same. Except the others never really leave. I've only seen five people so far, so my task was to locate other people and get some answers.

This has been the strangest day so far.

I sought a public place, where people would be commonly gathered. At times, I swore I heard a train pass through town, with an old bellowing steam whistle accompanying the deep rumble of tracks. I sought out any sign of a station and after some serious searching, I found it.


It was empty. In the quiet, sitting on a bench on the platform, I waited hours. Sure enough, a train approached. It, too, was empty, save for a little girl who wore a blue ribbon in her hair. She watched me, intently, as the train arrived, waited and then departed again moments later. We shared a moment, two lost strangers in a strange world.


The train arrived again, not long later.


She was still there.


I cannot get on the train. I want to talk with this silent girl, but it simply isn't possible.


It was not long after that I met someone new. 


Krieger.




I've already read the next journal entry, there was no way I could put it down after the creepy feel of this update and the possibility of Grandpa meeting another person in Green Wake. I'm starting to think this entire journal was Grandpa Mack's way of expressing his imagination.

I asked Mom if he was a storyteller or had any other writing that she could remember, and her answer was a resounding 'no'. It's becoming obvious that Morley was a creative man, with a flair for the bizarre. Almost like he and H.P. Lovecraft were on the same wavelength. There's a definitely underlying feeling of dread throughout the journals that seem to magnify with each entry.

Krieger is what made me realize it's a machination of Morley's mind.  I'll post the next one up in the next few days. The only problem I'm having is that, I think I've found a photo of Krieger, and it is.... strange. I think it might be a development mistake, given how old the photos are, so maybe some of you photography experts out there could give me some feedback.

Stay tuned!

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Journal Entry #3: And things get stranger

Grandpa's journal is somewhat an interesting experience. Every time I read a passage, I want to immediately go forward and read the next, but I'm trying to be patient and take it one quote at a time so I can really absorb and journal the experience properly.

So, here we are at his third entry and I think I've answered my own question from the last blog post.

Except, it seriously doesn't make any damn sense.

I'm going to start with the picture I believe is associated with the entry.


I've settled comfortably into what I'm going to call my temporary home. No one has caused a fuss, and I've been here for a few days now. Last night, (night being indistinguishable from day, as previously noted) I decided to really take in the sights, get a feel for this strange old town. I walked for about an hour, the paths and cobbled roads winding this way and that. Nearly impossible to get your bearings. 

Eventually, I came to what I assumed to be the edge of town. The tightly packed rows of zig-zap homes faded away and opened to a field, on the horizon a few husks of what I thought to be a farm perhaps. I continued and managed a photograph upon closer inspection. 

It's Doug and Ellie's farm. I swear it, by every holy word ever uttered, it is the farm, burned to the ground. The layout is exactly as I remember. How long ago was it that we were there, Anna? 

I tried to go further, but on the horizon was Green Wake. I suspected with no sun to guide me I was unable to orientate myself properly. I doubled back and continued that direction.

Green Wake was on the horizon.

I'm losing my mind.

I honestly have nothing to say at this point. I really don't know how to evaluate this kind of entry with any sort of rational explanation. I called mom about an hour after pouring over the photos, and running this note through my mind. It seriously gave me chills.

Mom had no explanation, either, of course. She had mentioned that Grandpa used to have these sort of spells when she was quite young where he'd become disoriented and talk about people she'd never heard of. She remembers one name in particular: Krieger.

She always thought that her father suffered from dementia, even from a young age. I suppose the proof is in the pudding.

Trying to end things on a happier note, Elise decided to give things another go with me. Amazing what a diamond ring can do, eh?

Guess I'm engaged to be married. Love you, baby! (like she reads this)

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Journal Entry #2

Holiday season is always a mess, so I apologize for the delay in getting updates on here more frequently. Over Christmas, my girlfriend had a bit of a freak on out me, and we temporarily broke up because we've been together four years and I haven't proposed or offered for her to move in.

Anyway, irrelevant information, but at least you know WHY I haven't been on here for almost a month.

Damage Control.

So, I picked up where I left off with the journal last night, and the second entry isn't as interesting as the first, but still is strange. I'll post my thoughts after the entry.

Again, no date.

I can't tell how long I've been here, hours are difficult to count without any reference. I don't think the sun ever cracks through those clouds, or if it's just evening and the hours pass by slowly. It rains a lot, but there's never thunder. Never lightning. It just rains. Dark and dreary. In some ways, it takes me back to that night. Everything about it feels the same.

Today I was unable to meet anyone. I was ignored by anyone I approached, so I explored. Not long before the rain fell so heavy, I was shivering in my bones and needed shelter. I came across this old building, door unlocked. An old multi-room, multi-story house. Inside, I found a room and warmed up. I'm still here, writing this now. I can see the rain clearing, there's a balcony outside the room.

It's always quiet. 

Again, I went through grandpa's photos and found something that he may be talking about. Took three scans to get this one to work, but finally got a clear one. Check it out.


What I'm not understanding is why Grandpa Mack has no idea where he is at this point. Maybe he'll talk about it later, but I've never been in a situation where I have no clue at all where I am. I've woke up a house with no clue how I got there before, but I at least knew, generally, where on a map I was.

I suppose this was before Google maps.

Alright, hopefully it's not another month before the next update. Until then, wish me luck with relationship woes!