Although why one of Them was apparently involved in freeing me I have no clue. It's worrying to say the least because quite frankly in this situation the enemy of my enemy is not anything I could ever consider a friend. Let me start at the beginning though.
Last Friday after I'd been noticing Panopticon types shadowing me for over a week a van with a logo reading "Freejack Comunications" pulled up next to me on a deserted street and two armed men came out of the back. Unfortunately for me someone on their team reads my blog diligently enough that they aimed the tazer at my leg instead of going for center body mass where the dart would have been blocked by the plastic plates in my jacket. Once they got me in the van they covered my head with a hood and drove for quite some time before bringing me into what appeared to be (once my hood was removed) a warehouse. Early on they tried to give me access to a lap top to continue blogging like they had poor Adam Krug. They decided that was a bad idea when the person who freed my arms had his face smashed into the keyboard so hard the Q key lodged up their nose.
Other than that they tried tactics similar to those they used on Adam to convince me that my wife had died not at the hands of a Slenderproxie but a simple home invasion. Doctored footage, edited copies of police reports that claim to show no evidence of the scene I recall finding. Hell they tried to claim that after my alleged psychotic break that I made up how I found her, that I'd stolen it from the scene in Buffy where Giles finds Jenny Callender killed. I admit the similarities to that scene exist but we all know that certain types of Slenderproxy like to copycat from pop culture. They even tried to convince me that my war on the Servants of all the Fears were the delusions of a psychotic serial killer. I know better than that. I'm never saner than when I'm holding my knife. They even tried showing me some doctored footage from when Betty took that swim. I was there people. I know for a fact that he never claimed that he didn't understand "my babbling about the Archangel". And he was certainly talking after I pulled him out of the pool filled with Ink. To insinuate that I had been moving his lifeless jaw and providing his lines like he was a puppet before slitting the throat of his already drowned corpse is just sickening.
Well, they'd noticed that so far all they were succeeding in doing was angering me. There was talk of my "psychosis" providing an unanticipated line of mental defense against their program. One of them was talking about moving on to drug enhanced methods or "engaging in the use of other physical stimuli" which I think is scientist for torture. That's when she showed up.
It looked like reality tore open, a jagged wound carved with a dull knife revealing a horrific landscape of throbbing, pulsating black plant life. I could see branches and vines moving against the wind blowing out of the gash in reality. Out of the Path, accompanied by a flurry of black leaves came a masked woman in a little black dress and red silk scarf. Her blond hair spilled down over her shoulders and her mask was mostly silver with small swirling patterns over it, the nose and cheeks were white and the lips had silver applied as if it were lipstick.
The Panopticon people panicked apparently at least the ones I had been dealing with really did believe that all this was simply a delusion. Before the Path closed behind her she threw one of my captors into it. I saw him grabbed by black vines that buried barbed thorns in his flesh before ripping it from his bones even as the horrific pressure found on the Path caused his eyes to implode. Finally the portal closed cutting off his screams. I've seen a lot of gore. Hell, I've caused more than my share of it. But that nauseated even me. They converged on her and I swear she smiled behind her mask as she spun into action. In complete silence she delivered a series of brutal hammerfists, palm strikes, upercuts, and low kicks (usually using the kick to break a knee so she could beat the hell out of them at her leisure). Now I know we've all been raised on Hollywood to think of unarmed combat as less than lethal but unconsciousness is a bad sign and I'm sure she left a lot of them with internal bleeding, some of it in the brain. When she was down to the last one she pulled off the scarf and expertly garrotted him. That one I know for sure is dead and she seemed to take an almost orgasmic pleasure in it. The little sigh she made as he died was the only noise I heard her make the whole time.
I thought this was the end, a Proxy paths in and kills everyone else in the room and you kind of expect them to go after the one who's tied up and helpless too. Especially if that person has caused as much trouble locally as I have. Instead she retrieved my knife from my motorcycle jacket that they had hung on the wall and stabbed it into the chair I was tied to so that I could rub the ropes against it's edge. After doing that she waved at me as if saying goodbye to a friend and pathed back out. When the path opened again that poor bastard she threw in was still screaming.
Once I freed myself I hitchhiked back home trying not to think about the fact that I'd just been saved by a fucking Slenderproxie. I really hope I never run into that freak again, she seemed like she could give me a real run for money unlike the punks my area usually gets.