September 20th, 2013:

I have decided to write a blog. I guess I should start with some things about myself. My name is Lionel. I live alone, except for my dachshund Bernie, I live in the reasonably quiet town of Badelt Hollow, and some really weird shit is going on. I have been finding odd graffiti all over town, but especially in my neighborhood. All of them are different, but they all feature one thing. one of those masks that people in england wear on the fifth of November, you know, they’re called guy fox masks or something. There is always one in every piece, it can be prominent or insignificant, but there is always one. I will do more research and report back later.


September 21st, 2013:

I did a little more research, and I would like to apologise for my mistake.The correct spelling is Guy Fawkes mask, not Guy Fox. Every year on November the fifth, they burn dummies representing Guy Fawkes in the UK. The reason for this odd behavior is on november the 5th, 1605, Guy Fawkes and several others attempted to blow up the houses of parliament. However, they were caught in the act. I believe there is a rhyme about it: “Remember remember, the fifth of November, The gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason Why the gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot.”


September 30th, 2013:

Starting to get creeped out. Sorry for not posting in a while, but some odd things have been happening. First off, I saw another graffiti depicting that mask. Also, Bernie has gone missing. When I went out to put up lost dog posters, I noticed an unusually large number of missing pet signs besides mine.


October 1st, 2013:

Somebody tagged my house with one of those mask graffitis. It depicts a man wearing a Guy Fawkes mask cutting a dog’s head off with a hacksaw. For just spray paint, it looked incredibly real. My nextdoor neighbor Ted came out when I was trying to wash it off with my pressure cleaner. Ted is a nice guy, his mom lives with him. “Bummer,” he said, “I think some new gang has been doing it.” “What makes you think that?” I asked. He shrugged. “Just a feeling.” Also, nothing major, but I have noticed a bad odor in my car, but I cannot figure out where it is coming from.


October 5th, 2013:

The smell in my car is almost unbearable. I have used air freshener, changed the floor mats, but nothing has worked. It seems to be emanating from the glove box, and my theory is that I left some food of some sort in there. I will brave the foul smell one last time, and clean it out.

2nd post: Christ. I am terrified right now, filled with conflicting emotions. I went into that stinking vehicle, opened the glove box… and I lost it, I vomited. The horrifying sight combined with that foul, heinous odor of decay and rot. After I was finished retching, I took another look into the glove box. It was Bernie. His head had been removed, the flesh torn and the dried blood crusted around the stump of his neck and all over the inside of the box. The head in question lay next to the body, and it was even more horrifying than the body. It was mostly skeletal, the fat grubs glistening on his face, worming into the eye sockets, chewing, their little munching noises sounding like a bowl of rice krispies. The lips were decayed and stretched back into a frightening snarl. But the worst part was that there was a photograph pinned to Bernie’s body with a knife. It was a picture of a Guy Fawkes mask.


October 10th, 2013:

Sorry for not posting in a while. I am still shell shocked over Bernie’s death. I wanted to say that I am shutting down the blog. It has brought me some unwanted media attention, and I am sick of the newsmen trying to interview me. This will be my last post.


October 12th, 2013:

Okay, sue me, I lied. I felt this was important. Someone has been murdered. I read in the newspaper this morning that one Daniel Thomason has been killed in an extremely brutal manner. He was hit over the head with a vase, stabbed in the eye with what appeared to be a bowie knife, then gutted and hung by his own entrails from the ceiling fan. The only evidence was a few muddy footprints belonging to the victim’s shoes, and, you guessed it, a bloody Guy Fawkes mask tag on the wall.


October 15th, 2013:

I am being stalked. Everywhere I go, if I turn around suddenly, I catch a glimpse of a man in a red trench coat wearing ONE OF THOSE FUCKING MASKS. Maybe it’s me being paranoid, but I think this might be the man who killed Daniel Thomason. I told my neighbor about the man and how I think he’s behind the taggings and the murder, but he dismissed the man as a product of my imagination. He says I’m working too hard. I am starting to feel uneasy in my own home.


October 25th, 2013:

It’s getting close to halloween, and there’s been another murder. He was mutilated in the same way as the other man, and once again, there was a Fawkes tag. The man in the trench coat is getting closer all the time.


October 31st, 2013:

Happy Halloween! My friend Bill invited me to a costume party tonight. I will post more when I get back.

2nd post:

He was there. And he is the killer. I had been talking to this girl all evening, her name was Madison. She was beautiful, and best of all, she was flirting with me. I was going to ask her out, but she told me to come up to the master bedroom in 5 minutes. When I went up, she was lying on the floor in her underwear, choking on her own blood. She was cut up, her intestines were all over the rug, and her throat was slit. I began screaming for help. People came running, but there was nothing we could do. She died in my arms. I glanced out the window, and THAT MOTHER FUCKER WAS ON THE LAWN. He was waving at me, holding a bloody knife. I am at home now- Holy shit. I looked out the window across to my neighbor’s place, and he was standing there. Ted could be in danger! I’m going over. I fear for my life. I am taking a hunting knife with me. If I survive, I will tell the tale here.

3rd post:

It’s all over. He’s dead. I went into Ted’s house prepared for the worst, and I got it. His mom had been skinned alive. The flesh was completely flayed from her face, her intestines spilled out on the rug. Blood coated the couch and floor. Her face was nailed up on the wall. She was still alive when I found her. The last thing she said was “Help.” Simple. Then she died. I went up to Ted’s room. The man was there, and so was Ted. The second the man saw me, he grabbed Ted and said six words that will haunt me for the rest of my life. “I wanted you to see this.” He cut Ted’s throat slowly, like he was giving him a shave. Blood spilled out, splattering Ted’s shirt, coating the man’s shining knife. I was frozen in place with fear. The man then made a deep slice running lengthwise along Ted’s belly, reached in, and pulled Ted’s entrails out, dropping them to the floor in a heap. I pulled my knife and ran towards him, shouting in anguish. He slapped me to the side, sending me crashing into the wall. I dropped my knife. “Wait your turn. I’m not done with Teddy here yet,” he said in a voice of pure evil and malice. He began further mutilating Ted’s corpse, slicing off his fingers and tongue, poking out his eyes, and removing one hand. He stood up and began walking toward me covered in blood. He raised his knife up for the killing strike… Then a police officer burst into the room, firing off all six shots in his revolver into that bastard’s chest. The man stumbled back, tripped, and smashed through the window, landing and cracking his skull on the pavement. The officer was responding to a call that Ted’s mother had made when the man was attempting to gain entrance to the home. Everything has blown over now. I will be attending Ted’s funeral tomorrow.


November 1st, 2013, FINAL POST:

Ted’s funeral went well, I paid my respects and left some flowers for him and his mom. I would like to thank everyone for the support they have given this blog, and wish you all a good life. One small thing, the mysterious killer’s corpse was stolen from the morgue, but I doubt anything will come of it. Farewell!