Dead Man's Tales: HSOTD

[ October 11, 2011 ]

Dear Diary,

Hello… my name is Rei Miyamoto. God, why am I even doing this? Maybe it's just in case I get murdered or something, at least someone will know who I was, teehee. This feels so dumb. I can't believe I'm even recording these..

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[ October 11, 2011 (Later) ]

It's almost midnight now, so I guess I should explain why I'm keeping these entries. A few days ago, I was stalked and attacked by some deranged lunatic. Yeah, really comforting, right? My parents freaked out and sent me straight to therapy. Nice of them, huh? Like that's really gonna help when I'm all alone here. Anyway, the therapist said I should record my thoughts because it'll help me process my fears or something like that. She says it might help me find a way to feel in control again. I don't even know if I'll keep doing this. I'm not scared. Not really.

[ October 12, 2011 ]

Okay, I lied. I'm scared. I got another letter today, the same as before, with those creepy images. The way they stare back at me… it's like they know me.

[ October 12, 2011 (Evening) ]

Hey again, diary. Today was just awful. Kozen didn't come to school, and I nearly lost it thinking that psycho got to him. I ran to the principal's office, desperate for some news. Turns out, his guardian pulled him out of school. The principal almost looked relieved, but I didn't. I mean, Kozen… he was the one person I felt kind of safe around, and now he's gone. What if that lunatic comes back for me? What if I'm next?

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[ October 13, 2011 ]

I hate my life. I got another polaroid picture today. It's me as a little kid—years ago. How long has this freak been following me? How could no one notice this?! I tried to show my parents, but they're still convinced it's some stupid cry for attention. Grandpa… ugh, that old man just laughed it off, called me paranoid. He always gets away with it because my parents don't want me disrespecting him. Not when he's got that fortune they're so eager to get their hands on. Scum. Every last one of them.

How am I supposed to feel safe when the people who are supposed to protect me won't even believe me?

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[ October 14, 2011 ]

Kozen is okay… thank God. Kohta told me he's off training with his guardian. It's a relief, but I wish he'd come back soon. These polaroids… they're getting worse. It's like they're taken when I'm completely alone, like when this thing could easily attack me if it wanted to. But it doesn't. It just… takes pictures. Why? What is it waiting for?

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[ October 15, 2011 ]

Takashi is back, and wow, he looks different. I heard Kozen's punch shattered his nose so badly that he had to have surgery. Now, he's out for blood. I can't believe there was a time when I thought I'd marry that guy. Thank God he didn't even look at me today. He's too focused on Kozen. I'm glad—I needed the space from him.

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[ October 16, 2011 ]

I thought I was done with Takashi, but I guess not. He grabbed my hand today in the cafeteria and tried to drag me out of there. I didn't let him. I wasn't going to be his victim. Kohta stepped in. He's Kozen's friend, right? I thought he'd be strong enough to stop Takashi, but… Takashi beat him down.

Kohta didn't give up, though. He fought back, used a plastic fork on Takashi's arm and smashed a chair across his back. It was… brutal, but it worked. They both got dragged to the principal's office. No punishment for Kohta, but Takashi got suspended. Weird, right? It's like Kohta has some kind of connection with the principal. Maybe he's the principal's secret love child or something.

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[ October 17, 2011 ]

I'm not taking any chances anymore. I ordered pepper spray, a taser, and a retractable staff online. They should be here soon. I don't know if they'll help, but I need to feel like I have some way to protect myself.

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[ October 19, 2011 ]

This was a mistake. Everything was a mistake.

[ October 20, 2011 ]

The stalker knows where I live. I'm sure of it now. Today, my packages arrived, but taped to them were those damn polaroids. No stamps, no return address, no destination. Nothing. Someone brought them here… to my door. They're getting closer. Too close.

Oh, God.

[ October 21, 2011 ]

The police came today. They took all the polaroids away, but I made sure to keep copies. I don't know why—maybe it's just this feeling that I need proof, that I need to be ready. At least now I have some guards around the house. But will that really stop it?

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[ October 25, 2011 ]

No more letters. No more photos. It's over, right? I'm free. I'm safe. I keep telling myself that. I have to believe it.

But then… those rats. The ones in the attic. Why are they still making that noise?

[ October 27, 2011 ]

I think I've found something. It's the back of these polaroids—they aren't just blank. There are shapes, like some kind of code, but they're so faint and fragmented it's hard to make them out. Black with thin white lines or dots. I laid them all out, lined them up like puzzle pieces, and—God, I don't even know how I missed this—a QR code appeared on the back of the photos. It leads to a website.

I should check it out, right?

[ Update ]

No. No, no, no. I'm scared. I'm moving houses—I don't care what anyone says. I'm not staying here. I can't stay here.

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[ November 25, 2011 ]

Yeah, I know. It's been a while. You're probably wondering what took me so long to write again, to explain what happened. The truth is, I needed time—time to breathe, to think, to try and forget. But I can't forget. I can't unsee what I saw. I'm going to break it down into two parts because I… I don't think I can handle writing it all at once. I'm sorry to whoever reads this someday. I'm sorry.

[ November 25, 2011 (Part 1) ]

Using the QR code from the polaroids, I ended up on this twisted website on the dark web. There were two videos on it. One was live, and the other… was recorded. I didn't expect much—maybe some weird scare tactic, something I could shrug off. But this… this was different.

The recorded video was like nothing I'd ever seen. I thought I was numb to gore, to horror. I've seen plenty online, stuff that desensitizes you, you know? But this… this broke me.

There were hundreds of pictures pinned to a statue. At first, I thought it was a statue of a girl in the lotus position. That's what it looked like at first glance. But when I looked closer, I realized—it wasn't any girl. It was me. The statue was of me. Naked.

I felt sick. My whole body went cold, like my soul was being ripped out. And then I saw the polaroids—hundreds of them—images of me, in the most private, vulnerable moments. Photos of me… touching myself. I'm just a teenager, I was just curious, experimenting like anyone else would. How… how could anyone have those? How did they get them?

I watched in horror as someone on the screen threw fire at the statue, setting it ablaze. And then those letters flashed on the screen: OSS.

I didn't understand what they meant at the time. Now I do. OSS—the Sanskrit inscription for "Om Samantabhadraya Soha." It was a mantra of Buddhism that meant to invoke the qualities of bliss and kindness, especially connected to Bodhisattva of Compassion. But this was different. My dignity, my identity, my sense of self—it was all desecrated, sacrificed by this monster. Like I was some sick parody of Bodhisattva of Compassion, like my body was only for their hedonism. Like my suffering was their entertainment.

My heart feels like it's shattering into pieces. I can't stop crying, no matter how much I want to. The thought of my naked image, my privacy, my innocence displayed for the world to see—especially on the dark web, in front of God knows how many twisted people—makes me want to crawl out of my own skin.

I hate them. I hate whoever did this to me. Whoever this monster is that took my life, my security, my sanity and crushed it into dust. What did I ever do to deserve this? Why me?

I don't know if I'll ever feel clean again. I don't know if I'll ever feel safe. I just want this nightmare to end.

Author Note: More chapters on [email protected]/LordCampione.