Entry 2: The Revelation/The Piece of String

It has been a day since we found out the truth. As of right now, I have discovered many horrible things that many of you may not be able to handle or tolerate. Do not say I did not warn you, before you read on.

Let us begin with the harsh truths. With the lies The Puppet thief masked as fact.

I have uncovered things that make me want to vomit and shudder in disgust. They are facts, realities that I have been living with all this time. I must say, I am surprised I’m still here. The things I’ve been living with, the extent of just how messed up life has been…

Here we go again. From the past, we proceed.


Aguinaldo was stricken with grief and disbelief at what he witnessed. He slept alone for days and nearly starved as he forgot to feed himself. Not only that; his belongings were destroyed. He lost his family in a flash.

And then, just a few days later, came a strange, strange man.

He knocked lightly on the ruined door and simply waited for an answer. Just as he was about to walk away, the door slowly fell open.

Before the stranger could even begin to comprehend what was happening, Aguinaldo had held up his sword to the man’s chin, the tip threatening to take his life in a whiff.

“I am not here to harm you. I am here to offer you a solution,” he said.

“Who the Hell are you?” Asked Aguinaldo.

“I am Narcissits’ brother.”


“The woman who attacked you with puppets.”

Aguinaldo nearly slaughtered the stranger right there, but he realised he would have a better chance of regaining his happiness and finding his children if he kept him alive. So he did.

He stepped back and opened the door further, revealing the ruined interior of the shack. The carpet had a large stain that would probably never be removed, even if he managed to shrink it. The blood of his beloved wife.

Her body was nowhere to be found; he had buried her by the sea. He could barely even look at her as he lowered her body into the earth, and sat there sobbing on here grave for a whole night.

Now that monster’s brother came over, offering him salvation? He nearly snorted at the absurdity of the situation.

Aguinaldo sat  down on the bed, sword in hand. It was much like a warning; do the wrong thing and I’ll have your head.

“My name is Chalvanath. I am here with a very strange offer, indeed, but I see no reason as to why I should withhold any useful information from you,” said the man.

Hearing nothing from Aguinaldo, Chalvanath continued.

“Narcissitis is trying to steal your children’s powers. Not just theirs; she has successfully stolen one. It is why her puppets are so life-like. She is a leech; someone who feeds off anyone she finds superior to her. She is truly messed up in the head, which is why I think you can succeed with what I am about to tell you.

“You must come with me and pretend to be someone else. She won’t know who you are. You saw her true form, but her human form is much less horrible. Not saying she is pretty in any way, but she is less vomit-inducing. Anyway, I think if you marry her and find out everything she can do, you can find a way to get your children back.”

Aguinaldo shot right up from his seat. Was this man insane? Were they all twisted and delusional in that ‘family’, whoever the fuck they were?

“Are you stupid or just pretending to be?” Growled Aguinaldo.

“No, look, it is the only way. But you must be prepared for the worst–she is horrible. It’s not evil, it’s just… Filth. Dirt.”

“I’ll think about it,” was all he said.

“Okay.” Chalvanath placed a small black device on the table as he walked to the front door.

“This device can reach me. Simply ring me whenever you’re ready.”

Days passed. Aguinaldo did nothing but think. He stood by the sea as he gazed out into the vast, endless blue. The skies were still dark and dreary, the thick fog making it a bit hard to breathe in the electric air.

‘I do want my children back,’ thought the broken father.


“I’ll do it,” said Aguinaldo.



Years passed. Our memories were wiped clean. We forgot the truth. We thought we came from the monster our father married.

He cared for us, more than she ever did, taking us to hospitals whenever we felt sick and spoiling us by buying us gifts as we stayed home from school. She, on the other hand, managed to become enraged over every little thing.

The sad reality was that, Aguinaldo was not prepared for her disgusting methods. She managed to sneak some of her puppeteering chords into his brain. Once or twice, she whispered enough nonsense into his head that he was driven to violence.

But nothing he ever did even came close to how fucking wretched she was.

Years of this passed by. Jamie grew up alone and scared. We were divided by domestic discord. They fought and fought, endlessly. We heard the yelling and the screams.

But it was all justified.

Because I found out why it all happened.

The puppet that kidnapped us? She was always assisting Narcissitis in her plots. The manipulative bitch got the dirty whore she called her friend to do unspeakable things. She once lay in their bed and pretended to be asleep as my father climbed into bed with her. It was dark and he thought she was his wife. He was supposed to go on a trip, but cancelled his plans and came home. Wanting to surprise her, he said nothing as he almost kissed the pile of excrement dressed in Narcissitis’s sleeping gown.

He was shocked to see the face of a stranger and hurriedly backed away from her. Thankfully, he never kissed her. He was sure, as she was a dirty whore, that she would do things that make me want to hurl just thinking about them.

And you know what else?

We thought Narcissitis was the good parent, blinded by her lies and manipulation. Who could be so low as to lie about every single thing they said to someone who was barely even five?

Most of our time we spent with her siblings or her mother. Her father had died a long time ago. I’ve never met him, and I am glad I did not. I’ve heard he was an abusive, moronic bastard.

She put veils of hatred and ignorance over our eyes as she used her god and emotional blackmail to threaten and scare us. She cheated on Aguinaldo repeatedly, by aid of her friend.

And then she dared to tell me that he was the one who did it. She consistently blamed him for all the disgusting things she had done. She lied and manipulated everyone, and simply continued to live in her delusions. She lacked the ability to listen and understand. She abused us all, emotionally and even physically.

Especially me. That rotten, disgusting, filthy, dirty, moronic, ignorant bitch actually beat me up more than once. I do mean beat up. I remember nearly coughing out my lungs and feeling like I could barely breathe. My world spun round and round and I thought I was worthless. She put that into our heads; that we deserve nothing, that we’re failures and that we deserve to be treated like rubbish.

As I write this, I come to peace with the facts. I know life is not easy. I know a lot of people go through shit that can make Satan cry. I could sit around feeling sorry for myself, or I could come to term with everything and face the truth, head on.

I am not weak. I am strong enough to have survived this long, all on my own.

The depression, the uncontrollable rage, the hate, the doubt–all of it. I’ve lived through it all.

And now I’m here, starting anew. But I will keep writing, showing everyone just how fucked up someone can be. The poison they could so willingly ingest, coated in honey.

The monster I’m supposed to call mother was sleeping around, despite building a family–however broken.

You see, she went behind my father’s back, time after time, sleeping with strange men. She once brought one of them to the house–WE WERE ONLY KIDS! WHAT KIND OF LUNATIC DOES THAT?!

She nearly got caught when he forgot his shoes behind. And she covered it up with a pathetic lie–a thief had forgotten them as he went around robbing houses. How oblivious were we all?

And then, it happened. The horrific monster was pregnant with someone else’s baby.

And you know what? My father knew. He knew, because there was no way the baby was his.

They made sure they would not have another baby, just like any other married couple. Yet she still got pregnant–and on top of that, as she was four months pregnant, he knew she was lying because he knew he had not done anything with her at that time. She was busted. But who would believe him? She had lied to everyone and blindfolded them all. She was a genuinely disgusting whore.

And you know what’s funny? I have absolutely no problem with sluts. If they choose to live that way, so be it. If they want to bang everything they found bangable, who am I to stop them?

But not when they decided to have a family. Not when they get married. Not when they have children.

There’s a clear logic to marriage. It allows the world to know that these two people have decided to reproduce and start a home. They have decided that they lived all their dreams and now they just want to start doing something else they loved–making a legacy they could be proud of. Leaving something for the world to witness.

But her? She threw all of that out the window.

Because she is a fucking child in a forty year old’s body. She acts out of anger and has tantrums just to get attention. Who does that other than children? Certainly not rational people. Yet she proudly acts like a moron with a smile on her face.

By the way. She killed the baby.

She had an abortion so she would not get caught. She pretended to be saddened by it, but really, in retrospect, the demented look of delight in her eyes tell me that she was more than fucking happy it was dead. Four months old.

I’m not against abortion. It’s none of my business.

But everything she does is disgusting to me. Can you believe I’d been living with her for over nineteen years? And I saw nothing but bigotry.

I love who I am. I am not ashamed of myself, really. But I do realise that all I’ve seen so far has been nothing but terrible. I think I could be happy, but it just ends up turning to shit.

Not just that. She resulted in me being abandoned by people I once trusted. Currently, I have absolutely no friends. I have only ever known poison.

I once thought I had a friend. But she was a lot like my mother. She thought she was the best, when she was nothing but a fucking piece of shit.

I am so angry right now. I am angry because I hate all of those people. I am furious because I let that horrid fucktard delude me into nonsense.

Had I not been able to feed myself, I would be dead.

She neglected us. She abandoned us. She abused us. She did nothing but let out her negativity on us.

I fucking despise her and I will never forgive her.




Trust me, if I went into more detail, that story will never end. But for now, for today, this is a release for my anger. My past is not pretty. Leaving it to the wind will save everyone the heartache.

But here’s a story that happened to us on day 2.

Day 2.

I had just eaten my lunch. Finally energised, I felt a lot better than I had for a while. I stood up and went to the toilet to wash my hands, which I did. But the toilet smelt so funky; so I went over and pulled on the fragile string that started the lavatory’s fan.. I cursed under my breath as a piece of string fell out of my hand and into the toilet bowl. I tugged on the short rope again, and this time, the fan came to life.

I looked at the piece of string then shrugged, deciding to flush it away.

///in the sewers///

The rope traveled swiftly along the murky waters. It felt nothing and was perfectly fine with being flushed down a toilet.

Until it met with the radioactive waste the corrupt government had tried to hide during the war. They used what they needed and dumped the rest into the water pipes of the city.

It was a bad idea.

The piece of rope lodged into slimy, toxic rubbish, and stayed there.


Luckily, we still had access to television.

While Aguinaldo turned on the tele and switched to the News channel, we saw the strangest thing happen before us.

The piece of string had grown massive. It also extended into thick arms and legs, and wrapped around itself time and time again to form a ball of rope that made its head. It was furious, throwing cars around, hitting bridges with the broken bodies of dying humans.

“… Wait… Is that…”

“FLUSH. YOU. GRRRRRRRRRR,” shouted the rope man.

“… Oops,” I said.

We looked at each other and realised that we could use an adventure. The world was out there, just waiting for us. So we got up and started getting dressed.

“Wait,” said Aguinaldo.

“I have a surprise for you.”

We went outside of the flat, looking around the dark hallway. He walked towards a door we had not seen before and opened it with his iron desk. It slowly slid inwards, hissing steam and letting out foggy mist.

Lights came to life as we entered the room. We were standing on a short walkway that curved down into a set of stairs, which led to a round room. There were large glass tubes that contained amazing suits our sizes.

“Woah! Cool!” Exclaimed Adolf, rushing towards the red, black and gold suit just waiting for him. It had the texture of rubber, or maybe spandex, flexible yet powerful.

Mine was something like a vest; black with thin purple lines through it, and a pair of slim-fit yet comfortably loose trousers. They were accompanied by a thick belt that had pouches that could easily hold a small sketchbook and paintbrush–which actually lay on a long table just off to the side.

Jamie’s suit was a white and black sports bra, a V-shaped flexible armour to wear over it, and what could only be swimming shorts. Was it because she could breathe underwater?

After getting dressed, we took the weapons laid out on the table. Mine was the previously mentioned paintbrush, miniature sketchbook that had really strange paper and a tiny bucket of black paint.

Adolf’s was an amorphous device that could take any shape or form he thought of or subconsciously needed.

Jamie’s was some sort of tiny contraption that amplified sound. It was for her ultrasonic speaking abilities.

“This… Is wicked,” I remarked.

“Agreed,” said Jamie.

Aguinaldo, once more, drove/flew us to where we needed to go. He landed several metres away from the chaos and we exited the car. The string monster was really, really irritated.

We ran towards it, and Jamie screamed, inaudibly, into her ultrasonic amplifier. The blast tripped the giant off his balance and stopped him from destroying the building he was aiming for.

Panic filled the streets like the destructive waves of water from a tsunami. People ran around, screaming for their lives. The growls of the radioactive rope monster echoed against the fiery skies of an autumn sunset.

“Hey! Your problem is with me, prick!” I shouted at the monster.

Slowly, it turned to face me.


It… wasn’t the brightest of toxic waste mutants.

“Not today!” I retreated to paint the only thing I thought could help: An toxicity-removing blowdryer. A gigantic one.

Adolf quickly stepped in front of me and thought, hard. His phone turned into his forcefield pistol and he shot the monster, but it evaded the first blow.

He shot again, and this time, it sent it flying back.

“YES!” He shouted and ran towards it, ready to shoot again. Jamie followed suit.

“Grrrraaaahhhh!” The rope creature grunted as it tried to stand up, to no avail. Slowly, it lifted its leg, ready to smash Jimmy to pieces.

“JIMMY!” shouted Adolf, and as he did, time suddenly slowed down nearly to a halt. Everything fell silent. Nothing even breathed.

The redhead gazed about with his golden eyes, wondering what the heck just happened.

He took a step forward, then backward. Nothing happened. Why didn’t he stop?

He looked at the ropey foot and at Jamie standing below it, then in a flash rushed towards her and snatched her away from the attack. Time returned to normal and the monolith leg hit the asphalt.

“Are you okay?” Asked Adolf.

“I’m fine, yea… What… Happened?”

“I think… I think I stopped time,” muttered Adolf.

I silently and proudly marched towards the ropezilla, dragging my enormous blow-dryer ahead; pushing it with all I had.

Jamie and Adolf stared, then burst out in laughter, nearly tearing up at the sight.

“What the shit is that?!” Asked Adolf.

“A useful blowdryer. Come help me kill this thing instead of just standing there laughing at my awesome creativity!” I nearly shouted, trying to be heard over the noise.

“Fine!” They said in unison and hurried over, helping me push it.

“I made it run on batteries. Just hit start.”

Adolf and I stood behind the blowdryer, holding it in place, and Jamie hit the “on” button.

Powerful waves of wind sliced through the hot air. Gust after gust attacked ropezilla

Luckily, it began to shrink as the toxic chemicals and water evaporated from its fabrics. We watched as it lost consciousness and finally fell to the ground as nothing but that tiny piece of string.

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