Thursday, December 29, 2011


The Mad Ventriloquist is confused.

Really, really really confused.

Christmas was pretty good. Derek cooked and there were presents, and things were good until David showed up. Then there was a lot of yelling and a couple times people walked out. And then there was a lot of talking about feelings and everything turned out ok. Derek doesn't like to consider David his father, but they really do act like family.

It was only after that when things got confusing.

The Mad Ventriloquist is getting married.

That would probably be confusing enough. He hasn't seen David for years, and they only really started dating a few months ago. And even that was just sorta dating. Like, no one said anything about it. They just sort of did dating things. Not all that often either, since The Mad Ventriloquist was running around trying not to die and David was running around doing whatever he does. Yet The Mad Ventriloquist wanted to ask him. And apparently David wanted to ask The Mad Ventriloquist because they sort of ended up asking at the same time. And all of this can't help but have The Mad Ventriloquist think about how wrong it is.

Of course, The Mad Ventriloquist has done a lot of bad things. This is the only sin that he doesn't regret.

Still, it's very confusing. And he is feeling happy and scared and all sorts of things about it. But David didn't stop there.

He wants The Mad Ventriloquist to join the slender man.

He made some very good points too. About how that would probably protect Derek. About the chance of destroying things from the inside. About how he didn't want to see The Mad Ventriloquist die.

It was really hard to tell him no. But he did.

David said that it isn't going to stop him. That he'll find a way to convince The Mad Ventriloquist.

The Mad Ventriloquist is worried about that.

He's actually scared about the man he's going to marry.

This is all very confusing.

Also, the building across the street is on fire.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

The day for stories

The Mad Ventriloquist believes in the power of stories. While he does not think that they change the world, they change minds. They give knowledge. That is very important, so the stories must be told. A while ago, a man tried to fight with stories. Today was supposed to be the day to do it. Today is a day for stories. So The Mad Ventriloquist will tell them.

A man opens the door to find his friend there, but he is not alone. Two children stand beside him, a girl clinging to his leg and a boy that looks like he's about to run. "Their parents died." the friend explained. "You mean you killed them." the man said. The boy glared and the girl let go of the friend's leg for a brief second. "Couldn't bring myself to kill the kids." The friend continued, "I'm taking care of them now." They stood in the doorway for a few minutes. "My house is not an orphanage David." he said, but he let them in anyway.


Dear Mr. Ventrilloquist,
 I write to you, because I choose to. I have seen many that want to find truth, but none that seem to take it so hard to heart than you.
I have seen others like you, but you are the one I choose. It amy seem circular, but I feel you will understand. First off, I refuse to call you
mad, for I would have to admit that I am as well. I am not ready to do this. I have seen many things. I have studied many things. He is among
the strange, that I have seen, but not the only terror, that I have learned. These terrors, such as Him, are beyond good, or evil, at least in
men. It is about surviving, and not letting the things that lurk in the dark win. I hate losing, I really do. Iguess I sohuld get to the point,
then. It seems alot of us, that have seen, tend to not get our thoughts in order well. I am reaching out, to tell my story, and possibly help.
I will spare the long details, but I saw Him. It was in passing, and he was not looking for me. He has never looked for me, and I do not know why.
I am not sure if I am blessed, or damage goods, or simply not desireable. Not something a girl wants to thing about. I hear voices, long before
I heard about what He does to your mind. He's the scariest one of the dark, by far, but maybe my mind is just strange. I started studying Him, and
I found out that he goes after poeple that know about him. As I said, I am not sure why I am not a target. Possibly because everyone I know is
already dead, long before I knew about Him. As I said, I have seen dark things, and knowing dark people. Mob is such an ugly word. I want my story
to be known by someone. I don't do well, just trying to say it. I'm not sure if I'm even making sense. I have never felt so on the outside, when
it seems it is all around me. I cannot take being passive any longer.
 Awaiting your response,


It was Christmas, and a man attempted to cook a nice dinner. It got burnt, which he probably should have expected. He was never very good at cooking. There was a knock on the door and there stood a friend. "Where's Derek?" the man asked. The friend shrugged his shoulders. As if he wasn't hurt. He says he doesn't lie, but that's only in words. "He left. Says he doesn't want anything to do with me. So be it."

It was a very gloomy Christmas.


A year ago, a man stood in a forest. He waited for a monster to show up, for a destiny to be fufilled. He waited to die. And while he was afraid, he was ready. The monster didn't show. The stand didn't work.

And yet

The internet flooded with stories that day. Weird stories, bloody stories, heartbreaking stories. They all had the same purpose. This man rode to battle. He defeated the slender man. So many stories. So many versions.

The monster never showed up. There was no battle. A good man was lost.

But there were so many stories.

Despite all the fear, all the doubt. Despite the fact that it didn't work. People wrote. People made stories and they gave themselves a chance to hope. They came together and the story unified them.

Doesn't that mean something?

Monday, November 28, 2011


The Mad Ventriloquist doesn't usually celebrate Thanksgiving. For a long time, he had a hard time thinking about what to be greatful for. So he just drank beer and watched football and sort of forgot that it was a holiday.

It turns out things are different at Derek's house. He had gotten a whole turkey, even though he lives by himself and wasn't expecting The Mad Ventriloquist. He says that he uses the stuff he doesn't eat on Thanksgiving as leftovers. Sandwhiches, stews, bits of pieces for casserole. He like the turkey, and there's something about taking all day to cook one that he enjoys. The Mad Ventriloquist doesn't understand it, but when Derek made the turkey he looked very happy. So he didn't say anything about it being weird.

He did say lots of things about the timing being bad though. The Mad Ventriloquist wanted to leave. Wanted to keep all this and the slender man away from Derek. But he said no. Said that the shoulder needed healing and since The Mad Ventriloquist was there already, they might as well sit down at a meal together and figure out what they were thankful for.

Derek said that's why he likes Thanksgiving. It's the one time of year that he can look at everything, and realize there are a lot of things about his life that he likes. A lot of things that don't suck.

The Mad Ventriloquist sometimes think he and David did Derek a great wrong. They tried to prepare him for the world. Tried to make him strong. But really all they taught him was that there were bad people in the world.

They must have done something right, though. Derek's a wonderful man. He and The Mad Ventriloquist talked and ate and caught up and talked more. It was all really nice, actually. It made him realize a lot of things, actually.

The Mad Ventriloquist realizes that while he was enjoying turkey with David's son, the safe house Hope was destroyed. Awfully. And that is really sad and awful and The Mad Ventriloquist's heart goes out to those who died.

At the same time, Thanksgiving this year made him realize something. There is always hope. There is always a tiny light in the dark. A friend, a helping hand, something.

People are in very dark spots. The Mad Ventriloquist finally saw the slender man. He understands now more than he ever has before. He felt fear deeper than all those years trying to go outside. Deeper than any fear he had ever had. He came in without warning. He injured The Mad Ventriloquist. Then he just stood there, staring. He left after a while, as suddenly as he had come. The whole thing was great and terrible.

Yet, despite it all, Derek took The Mad Ventriloquist by the hand, and told him to stay. Had him have a nice thanksgiving turkey dinner. Talked about cabinets and mountains and life and beautiful things. And The Mad Ventriloquist couldn't help but think of beautiful things as well.

There is always something to be thankful for.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Posting after a long time

A lot of things have happened to The Mad Ventriloquist since the last time he posted. He went to Hope. He left Hope. He went to Derek's. The slender man invaded, which probably means that David's going to kill The Mad Ventriloquist slowly. Derek hit him with an axe though. After shooting him with a shotgun. It was nice to see him all grown up and trying to kill things, even if it didn't work very well.

The Mad Ventriloquist realizes that he's never said who Derek was. And now he's trying to figure out how to say that. And he's just getting confused. It's a really long story.

Anyway, there was a slender man attack at Derek's house and he is fine but The Mad Ventriloquist has a pretty bad shoulder wound. He's staying here for a while, since apparently giving up The Mad Ventriloquist's protection gave up Derek's as well.

He's really sorry about that.

He's also sorry that this post probably doesn't make any sense. He is wounded. And there's no beer.

Monday, October 17, 2011

The Notebook: The apartment

The apartment that the address led them to was on the first floor of a building in a forgotten part of town.It was worn down, old, and supposed to be vacant. Minori talked to the landlord about it, and while he suspected squatters he couldn't prove anything. Just strange noises at strange hours. Residents claiming that they saw people going in but not out. He had thought about calling it haunted and bringing in the tourists. The Mad Ventriloquist thought this was a good idea. Minori was not amused.

They were allowed inside, and it seemed vacant. The landlord seemed a bit creeped out by the whole thing and left downstairs but let them look around for a while. That's exactly what they did. Minori took one side of the room, The Mad Ventriloquist took the other. They didn't really talk much. He assumed that Minori was still mad at him. And he wasn't really sure what to say to her at this point.

"Did you know there was a hallway over here?" Minori asked, breaking the silence. The Mad Ventriloquist looked over to her. She was in a corner of the room that was a little hard to see, but he was pretty sure was just a wall. It wasn't. "Wait here." She said, beginning to walk through the hallway.

The Mad Ventriloquist followed.

She turned around and he thought she was going to aim her gun at him again, but she didn't. "It's a strange hallway. You'll need backup. It's why I'm here." he said, and she didn't look very happy but she agreed.

The hallway led into another room, which was empty except for a hole in the ground. The walls were lined with various graffiti marks that The Mad Ventriloquist didn't recognize at the time. "We should go." he said, and Minori backed up a few inches. Then she stopped. "It's just you and me Ronan." she said, "If we leave now, we have no way to come back to this lead. I'll never know what happened."

She walked forward, gun at the ready, and looked into the hole. Before The Mad Ventriloquist could get to where she was, she was already climbing down a ladder attached to it. "I need you up here, in case someone comes in. Only come down if you hear something." With that, she dropped down, and all The Mad Ventriloquist saw of her was the glow of her flashlight slowly fade away.

She had been gone for ten minutes when he heard a scream and two gunshots. The Mad Ventriloquist climbed down there as quickly as he could and tried his best to follow the noise. The place didn't have many tunnels, but it still took a while. By the time he found her, another shot had been fired.

The Mad Ventriloquist finally caught up to her, and saw she was pinning down a man. It was too dark to properly see his face. There was a dampness next to the ground that was obviously blood though.  He saw Minori draw her arm back, and there was a dull thud as it came back and made contact with the man's face. He noticed her gun was still in her hand. She reached back and did it again. And again.

The man just laughed. He talked about her sister, about the tall man, about how the whole city was doomed. She didn't really seem to be listening. She just kept on hitting him over and over until the laughter became shrieks of pain, and even past then. After The Mad Ventriloquist recovered from the shock he pulled her off the man and wrestled the gun out of her hand.

The man laughed and coughed a bit. The Mad Ventriloquist focused on Minori. "What are you doing? You don't even know who this guy is. And I know you're smart enough to not fire a gun in a space like this." She didn't seem to register what he was saying for a brief second. She was shaking in rage, and trying to escape from The Mad Ventriloquist's grip. It didn't last long though, and the anger slowly turned into shock and horror. She took a deep breath and looked at The Mad Ventriloquist. "I overreacted. The shots were... I saw him. The tall man. He was here."

The Mad Ventriloquist looked around. The gun shots didn't seem to have hit anyone despite being in a tunnel. He didn't see the bullets. He didn't see any exit aside from the one he came through either. "Where did he go?" He asked and Minori just shook her head.

"You two are fools." the man said, laughing again. Minori looked like she was going to lunge at him again, but controlled herself this time. "Who is he. Tell me." she said. The man didn't. "You look so much like your sister, you know. Have I told you what her face looked like as he ripped her piece by piece? Did I say what she sounded like when he found her heart? We've heard of you, Minori Ryan. We know all about you. And the way you're going, you'll end up just like her. I hope I'm there to watch."

This time, The Mad Ventriloquist almost didn't hold her back.

Minori calmed herself down again and looked at him. "Get me out of here. Now." He thought it was a strange request until he looked down and realized that the blood wasn't from the man. The bullet had ricocheted into her leg. The Mad Ventriloquist picked her up and backed out of the room. He didn't want to turn his back to the man. "You can't beat him." he said. The Mad Ventriloquist ignored him.

They went to Minori's apartment and The Mad Ventriloquist called a doctor who was good with bullet wounds and didn't ask questions. He waited with her and did what he could to stop the bleeding. She had been pretty lucky. It wasn't going to kill her. "What the hell did I do?" she asked softly as The Mad Ventriloquist sat by her. "You shot before thinking." he answered. "Not that." she said. He didn't know how to answer.

The room was quiet for a while, before The Mad Ventriloquist spoke. "He deserved it." he said. Minori shook her head. "No one deserves that. I lost control of myself. I forgot who I was." she answered. This didn't make too much sense to The Mad Ventriloquist. "What if that is actually who you are? There's no shame in it." he asked. Minori just shook her head again, but didn't say anything other than that.

"So you saw him" The Mad Ventriloquist asked. "Yeah. And don't you dare call me crazy," she said, "but I don't think he's human." He just stared at her for a minute. She glared, and he nodded eventually.

The doctor came and they didn't have to talk anymore.

Friday, October 7, 2011


David's come back.

I woke up last night to a smell that I thought I had forgotten. Turns out I haven't. Gasoline is gasoline is gasoline and smelling it anywhere other than a gas station is usually a really bad sign. So I woke up and turned on a light. Gasoline was everywhere. On the floor, on my couch cushions, it was even near my bed. I'm not sure how I slept through that. I must have been very drunk. Now that I think about it, I had a bit of a hangover.

Which was probably why the music was so loud. It started a few minutes after I turned on the light. Some kind of rock bad. Female vocalist. I followed the music to a window in the living room. David was standing about fifteen feet from my house. With him was a lighter, a boombox, a fire extinguisher, and a megaphone. A trail of gasoline was right in front of him.

He saw me, and picked up the megaphone. "I thought I'd help you get out of the house." he said, then looked at what seemed to be a case of some sort, "You have about fifteen minutes to pack. Or stop me. Either way."

"What if I don't get out?" I yelled back at him. He gestured towards the fire extinguisher. "I'll get you out. I'm not going to hurt you Ronan."

I believed him. I really did. But at the same time, the threat of fire isn't pleasant. And his rescue plan didn't seem well thought out. So I tried to get out of the building. I really did. I stood at the doorway for five minutes. The boombox changed songs a couple times. I couldn't do it. Of course things hadn't started burning yet. I had a good sense of preservation. I might get out once there was fire. So I went to pack.

This probably sounds really silly, reading this. That I just talked to David as he threatened to burn my house down. But I was scared and helpless and I couldn't do anything but hope I could get my more precious things out before I was dealing with a lot of hot fire.

I went to my room and started putting things in the bag least soaked with gasoline. My laptop, some clothes, a pack of beer, some music I particularly liked. My baseball bat.

I stopped when I got to my baseball bat.

I had done a lot of damage with that, back when I was a bad guy. Back when I wasn't afraid of anything. Sometimes I thought that the me from the past might look at me now and laugh. He'd laugh a lot. I was a failure who couldn't do anything. Who drowned himself in beer and tried to help people he never met but ultimately made them hurt. I was now in a soon to be burning building, just waiting for it to blow up.

What had happened to me?

I held my baseball bat and remembered all the painful things. Minori's empty eyes when I had last saw her, The dead bodies I had found, David with Minori, the family I had betrayed. I didn't want to lose anyone. Didn't want to hurt them anymore. I was so afraid of the pain, that I just kept on hurting. At that moment, I decided all this pain had to stop. And only I could do that.

I took hold of my baseball bat and went to the door. I didn't even stop at the doorway, just went outside and towards David. He smiled for a minute before I caught up to him and swung. He stumbled back and I swung again. I swung until he was on the ground. I probably broke a few bones. Not that it would stop David if he was motivated, but it would slow him down. He started laughing and I stopped for a moment.

"Hello Ronan." he said, and the hand with the lighter in it moved. I raised my baseball bat, but he signaled me to wait and put the lighter in his pocket. "You're out of the house." I looked back and noticed that I was. There was no panic. No fear. I realized it was what I had to do, and I did it. Everyone always says that's where true courage is. Perhaps they're right.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked. I had meant to yell at him, but it came out as a low whisper. Cold and threatening. I remembered that voice, that conviction. It was almost like coming home. David recognized it too, and he smiled more. "I'm helping you." he said.

"Well stop helping. I don't need you to fight my battles for me." I answered.

"I don't want to fight your battles. I want to stand by your side."

I hesitated at that.

I know many of you don't like David. You have good reasons. He's a monster. I don't have any delusions about that. I've known him for around twenty years. I've seen him laugh in the middle of a murder. I've seen him do far worse than that. I know him more than anyone else. And because of that, I see what many others don't. I can't really explain it. Even if I did, it's possible you wouldn't believe me. But part of me will always like David, no matter what he does.

That part of me is what convinced me to lean down towards David and kiss him.

It was long and sweet and gentle and don't rub this in Elaine it's complicated enough already.

A song started. I sort of liked it. sort of slow, sort of sad, sort of hopeful. "This is it." David said, pulling away from me, "What are you going to do now?"

I looked over at my house. The only place I had felt safe for six years. My prison. "I'm going to fight him, David." I said, "I can't let him do this any more."

David looked sad and happy at the same time. I don't know how that works. "You know if you go after the slender man, my deal can't protect you anymore." he told me. I nodded. Then he put something into my hand. It was the lighter. I looked at my house one more time. Then I lit the trail of gasoline.

let the flames begin

When The Mad Ventriloquist first started using third person, he hadn't meant to use it to run away. He just thought that if the slender man used thought to find people, typing without first person would make it confusing. It was protection. When he decided to stop hiding he dropped it. But he's going to start again. Because now he really is in danger from the man in the business suit. But it's what he has to do. So he will.

The Mad Ventriloquist is reborn.

Monday, September 26, 2011

The Notebook: Jane and Alexis

I still feel like using The Mad Ventriloquist on this entry. Sometimes I find myself slipping back into He and She and name titles. A little of it's habit. A little of it's being afraid. I'm not this person anymore. At least, I hope I'm not. So I don't want to say this is me. I don't want to remember it like that.

But I have to.

It had been weeks since I had seen Minori. Since the fight. I had thought about just leaving things be. It all seemed stupid, after all. But I had a job to do, and I took my job very seriously. So I found someone Minori might be interested in, and sent her the information and the time I would be there. She showed up.

Jane checked herself into the asylum after witnessing a violent crime and suspecting she was responsible for another. She seemed normal at first, if scared. And perhaps a little distant.

"I can't help you with anythin." she said, "I don't remember any of it. John had been a bit crazy lately, looking out of windows and drawing symbols and stuff. He came by my house that day. Told me he was in trouble. All I remember after that is all the blood. There was blood everywhere. It was like that the second time, too. I was just talking. Then they were dead. I can't tell you anything else."

I believed her. So did Minori. We were about to leave when I thought of something. "Does Alexis remember?"  I asked her, and if it was possible she looked even more scared. "I don't know." she answered, "Even if she does, you don't want to talk to her."

I sat back down.

"Jane, please listen to me. My friend Minori and I are trying to find a killer, and it's possible that you saw something that could help us. I know you're afraid. I read about Alexis. I understand why you don't want us to talk to her. But a lot of people could be saved if you let us. And there are guards here. Minori herself is a police officer. She can protect herself. It's safe. So can you please let us talk to Alexis?"

She nodded, but looked uncertain. "I don't know if I can. I don't control her." she began, but she cut off and stared off into space for a moment. Then she stopped shaking and smiled. She wasn't afraid anymore. "What do you want to know?" she said.

Minori took over the questioning.

We were there a long time. Alexis talked in circles sometimes. She seemed to find it funny to confuse us. With me it wasn't that hard. But eventually, we came to what we needed. The tall man had been there.

"Do you know who he is?" Minori asked, and Alexis just laughed.

"You don't know anything, do you? Who is he? That's a silly question. Do you still think he's human? That he can be found by logical means? You have fallen into a deep dark pit, little girl. Your laws won't help you here. He is a monster. He is a god. He is the things that you can't explain and never will. You can't fight this. It's funny you think you can. If you were smart, you'd turn away from this. But you don't strike me as smart." She said, then leaned over and whispered something in Minori's ear. After that, she stared for a moment and she was back to being terrified.

"Thank you Jane." I said, and we left.

Minori stopped me outside of the asylum, before I left. "Thank you for finding her." she said. I nodded a bit. "So what did she tell you?" I asked. Minori looked at me for a moment, took a deep breath, then looked away. "An address." she answered. "So When are we going?" I replied.

For a moment I thought she was going to go for her gun. She just glared at me though. "Just because you found a good lead doesn't mean I can trust you. I'm going alone." she said. I glared right back at her. "My job is to help you. I'm helping you. You don't know what's going to be there." I told her.

Then she yelled at me.

She yelled at me for manipulating the girl inside to give us information. She yelled at me for manipulating her. For trying to jerk her every which way when all she wanted to do was find out what had happened to her sister. As soon as she mentioned Sakura, she stopped yelling. Like just thinking about the girl had made her stop being angry, and just feel sad.

"I looked up Declan." She said, "He was murdered. Knife wound. But it says they never found out who did it."

"The cops never found out who did it. I did."

"Did you kill him?"

"No. Things got complicated."

She went up to me then, and put a hand on my cheek. It was nothing sexual, just brief human contact. Some sort of understanding. Even as it was, I almost hit her. I was not very good with people touching me. "Sometimes I feel like you really are some sort of monster. That you're the scum I always thought you were. But sometimes I think there's more to you. All that empathy you use to manipulate people. It comes from somewhere. I'm beginning to wonder if you care."

I probably should have hit her at that point. But I didn't. And she walked away.

She called me two days later with the address.

Friday, September 23, 2011


I tried to leave the house today.

It didn't work, for the record. I stood at the frame of the door looking outside for twenty minutes trying to step outside it and I just couldn't. I stayed inside the house. I've been doing this for days, opening the door and trying to leave. It hasn't worked. I'm too afraid of what's out there. Too afraid of what could be.

There was a time when I wasn't afraid of anything. When I was a bad guy, fear was nothing. Probably because I didn't care about other people. I was the only one I had to worry about.

David hurt Dia.

Dia and I had been talking over email. We talked about stories, about truth, about doing good, and sometimes about Minori. She was a friend. And she called me a friend.

He tortured her for it.

I can't really blame David as much as I probably should. I know who he is, why he does what he does. Years of friendship have made me understand him. Although sometimes I think he's changed and I don't know what he's doing, other times he's the David I spent so much time with. That I would laugh and sing and

The past hurts sometimes.

I want to stop him. I want to leave and talk and protect all of the friends that I've made. But I can't leave. I'm too afraid.

I'm nothing like this.

Sunday, September 4, 2011


David killed Donovan's family. That's where he was. And it wasn't just killing. It was torture and brutal murder. The disturbing thing is, this isn't surprising. This is who David is. He was a friend, but that doesn't make him nice. And this could have been avoided all of it. But it wasn't. Because The Mad Ventriloquist was afraid. Because it's easier to run from problems than fight them.

This is my fault. I know it. And it's made me realize something. I can't keep distancing myself.

I thought that if I talked in third person, it would confuse the slender man. He wouldn't know who I was, and so wouldn't come after me. But there was another reason too. If I wasn't me, I could pretend my actions didn't effect anybody. But they do.

Like Donovan. And I can't help if I act as if I'm not really here. And people will still get hurt because of me. So from now on I am taking responsibility for my actions.

Starting with David.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The Notebook: Elaine

 "For the first eight years of my life, everything was perfect. My parents were well off but devoted, life was simple and pleasant. And then about a week after my eighth birthday I woke up in the middle of the park near my house with my best friend's twin brother dead in front of me."

 "My parents... this went on for two years. And they never believed it was me. I didn't believe it was me. I don't remember most of it, and up until... something like two weeks ago I'd always thought it was crazy."

 "Fifteen people, including my parents and my little brother, all courtesy of Slender Man."

 "Yeah. That best friend? Whose brother I killed? That was Cam. But he stuck by me the whole time, he came to visit me when I was in the asylum afterwards, and he tried to get his parents to adopt me when I got out. Imagine that, your son begging you to adopt the girl who killed his brother. I can't blame them for saying no."

  "It only got worse from there. Officially, I was never accused of the crimes and they suspected I had a stalker who was killing people 'for me.' So when I got out they changed my name and made me change my look, moved me halfway across the country and gave me to a family as a foster kid. It probably would've been fine, had the family not been told my circumstances. They were veteran foster parents, had an amazing reputation, were wonderful with kids, but could never forgive me for being a murderer. By that point I was fifteen and rebellious, so when the guy I was dating suggested we run away and find ourselves something better, I was all in favor of it."

 "It wasn't so bad at first. Sure, we were broke, stupid kids, but Dallas wasn't a bad place to go, as such things went. Mark got a job with this drug boss  type-the kind of guy who ran most of the big crime in the area. Worked for a Mexican drug cartel."

 "I wasn't going to get involved with that, I didn't like the way he looked at me. So I worked at a diner. It wasn't ideal, but by the end of the first year we had a place of our own, and we didn't figure we needed much when we had each other."

 "What a joke. He didn't want a partner, he wanted a housewife. And he never realy forgave me for the looks the people he worked with gave me, and he certainly didn't forgive me my opinions and my attitude."

 "It got abusive. I was at that point still too horrified by my past to fight back. He started accusing me of cheating, and eventually he comes in while I'm cooking dinner one day and starts threatening to kill me. Something just snapped. When he attacked me, I fought back, and considering I was far better armed and not much weaker, I won. He died. And suddenly I was a killer again. Vargas showed up and offered to protect me, provided I work for him. And..."

 "Also 'work for him' in the... less savory sense. I was seventeen. And he had me as a prostitute."

 "Not that that lasted long. I refused to put up with it, and luckily for me Vargas decided he liked my talent for killing people."

 "So I... did my job, for the next four years."

 "And then I got arrested for something stupid, cut a deal, and got off with a very minor charge and got off with two years of jail time in exchange for taking down one of the biggest drug bosses in Dallas."

 "That's where Cam came in. He'd followed me to Texas somehow, and he kept showing up now and again, offering to take me out. I was too proud, too stupid to take him up on it, until I was in jail and looking at a pretty drab future once I got out. People who turn over people that important usually don't survive long outside of protection."

David's gone

The Mad Ventriloquist probably should have noticed earlier. Things were too quiet. But he was drinking. And he liked the quiet a bit too much to realize what it meant.

The Mad Ventriloquist doesn't know where he went, when he went, or even if he's coming back. He wishes he did. The Mad Ventriloquist is afraid that something bad is going to happen.

Monday, August 29, 2011

The Notebook: Kevin

There is a page in the notebook titled Kevin. The page is empty. The Mad Ventriloquist remembers why.

Minori had found another person to interview. Another person in an asylum. The Mad Ventriloquist was tired of running around listening to crazy people. Minori drew her gun again, and that's when he decided to stop all this.

"Are you really willing to kill someone?" he asked her. Minori didn't waver her gun, but there was a flicker of doubt on her face for a moment. "I'll aim for a shoulder. Or a leg. A simple wound." she answered. The Mad Ventriloquist stepped a little closer. "I've seen too many people die of simple wounds to think there's such thing. And I imagine you have too. Stop bluffing and put the gun away."

She glared at him for a moment, but put the gun down anyway.

There was conversation after that, although The Mad Ventriloquist can't really remember exactly what was said. It was about this tall man and insane people and how The Mad Ventriloquist thought it was a waste of time and how Minori thought they were on to something. There was a lot of talking and yelling until Minori said something about her sister. And how The Mad Ventriloquist wouldn't understand.

"I do." he said, "My brother was killed. More than ten years ago, but still." Minori stopped whatever she was going to say when she hear that, and just stared at him. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke again. "How?" she asked. "A cop killed him." The Mad Ventriloquist answered, and the effect on Minori was visible and instant. She backed up a couple steps, then found a bench to sit on. "Did he.." she started, but never managed to finish. "Did he do anything wrong? Is that what you mean. That is what you would focus on. He dealt drugs. So congratulations, he was a bad guy. Fine reason to be murdered don't you think?" The Mad Ventriloquist answered. It came out a little too harsh. He hadn't meant to sound angry. Minori seemed to process it for a minute longer, and her expression changed from shocked to thoughtful to something The Mad Ventriloquist wasn't quite sure about. "Just one more question." she said, and he waited.

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?"

She stood up, no longer shaken and glared at The Mad Ventriloquist. He glared right back at her. "This is why they really assigned you, isn't it? So you can try and get inside my head. Your sort always needs new dirty cops, right? Well, it won't work. Take your fake brother and your fucking mind games and shove them up your ass." She tried to walk past him, but he caught her arm. "You should have expected this when you come to the mob for help." he said, "And my brother isn't fake. His name was Declan. Declan Ward. You can look him up."

Minori didn't answer. She just left. The Mad Ventriloquist doesn't know if she saw Kevin, or what he said if she did. Maybe he was the key to this whole puzzle. Maybe if The Mad Ventriloquist had gone, things would have been different.

But he didn't.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

The Notebook: Tony

Annette seemed like a dead end to The Mad Ventriloquist. It didn't to Minori. She started thinking there was a connection between her own sister's death and the tall man that the woman had talked about in between mutterings. She was thinking cults or hypnotism or some weird thing like that. So she began looking into more people to question. Tony was the next one she found.

He was charged with assault after claiming that the guy on the street was after him. After his sentence, he was checked into an asylum for paranoid delusions. Once again a gun was involved. Minori was very fond of her gun. The Mad Ventriloquist remembers thinking that she seemed to solve problems more like we did than a cop should. Not saying she was dirty, because she wasn't. She made that very clear. But there was something fierce about her. She was an animal, like we were. This made things complicated because The Mad Ventriloquist really wanted to hate Minori.

Tony was much more talkative then Annette. Tony never shut, up actually. Minori only asked one question: if he knew anything about a tall man.

"There are a lot of tall men. Not that I would help much if you were more specific. I rarely get any visitors. The orderlies come in and slip drugs in my food sometimes. They think I don't know, but I do. I see everything. I see the cameras and the drugs and all the attempts to keep me quiet. Because I know something, and the government doesn't want the world to find out. I think he works for him. The suit fits. That's why I'm really here. Because  I know, and I'm ready to question. You don't even know how much this guy has done. I bet half the nation's cold cases were done by this guy. Is that the tall guy you mean? How do you know about him? And why are you asking me? You're one of them, aren't you. I knew it. I knew they would find me. You're not taking me. You took my wife, but you're not taking me. I won't let you."

He then started yelling 'I won't let you' over and over again until the guards made us leave.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

That didn't go as planned

The Mad Ventriloquist was wrong. He was wrong and he put people in danger.

Elaine and Schrodinger are here. Schrodinger is fine, but Elaine has a shoulder wound and The Mad Ventriloquist is also a little banged up. Frank the cat is also fine. Which is good, since The Mad Ventriloquist likes him. He had always wanted a cat, but thought that their hair might get in his beer. It turns out that it does, but he doesn't mind all that much.

David came. He tied up the grocery delivery man in the truck and came in when The Mad Ventriloquist wasn't looking very hard. He was having trouble getting up, actually. It had been a very long night. But Elaine eventually called him over, and that's when David took his knife out.

The Mad Ventriloquist was wrong. He thought David wouldn't try anything. He did. He kneeled next to Schrodinger and held the knife against her cheek. The Mad Ventriloquist pushed him away, but it's been too long. He's spent the last six years sitting on the couch watching soap operas. David's spent it working. There was a time when David and The Mad Ventriloquist were pretty evenly matched, but not anymore. The Mad Ventriloquist ended up being pinned against the wall. But Elaine challenged him to a fight, and that's one thing David could never resist. The Mad Ventriloquist pulled Schrodinger out of there, so he doesn't really know what happened. All he knows is that afterwards, David came out and whispered in The Mad Ventriloquist's ear. "You can't keep running from me. One of these days, you'll have to start listening."

Then he left.

The Mad Ventriloquist didn't think that would happen. He had thought he'd known David well enough to predict what he'd do now that visitors were there. But he didn't. Then again, The Mad Ventriloquist has changed so much in this time. Maybe David has too. The fact that he doesn't know the first thing about someone he used to be so close to is disturbing. He feels like he doesn't know anything any more, and people might be in danger because of it.

At least no one is too hurt. And the beer is mostly safe.

Sunday, August 14, 2011


David keeps on coming over.

He's broken pretty much every window of The Mad Ventriloquist's house, busted the lock on his door, and if everything isn't secure he'll just walk in and sit on the sofa. The Mad Ventriloquist isn't sure whether he's annoyed or flattered. Perhaps this is just because of being alone so much. Donovan was the only guest he had over for a while. Other guests are coming in a few days, but for years it was just The Mad Ventriloquist alone in his house. It's nice to have visitors, even if they are breaking and entering. Even if they talk about the slender man and how much could be gained if The Mad Ventriloquist just joined him.

The Mad Ventriloquist has missed David. Years of friendship are hard to erase, and he can't manage to do it. David is asking something of The Mad Ventriloquist that he can't do, though. So most of the time he just ignores him, and tries to fix his windows.

People are coming in a few days. The Mad Ventriloquist is happy about it, but slightly nervous. He can't seem to keep David out, and it's possible that he will come in while the guests are here. He'll probably be civil. David is very civil the first couple of times. But it is worrying The Mad Ventriloquist a little. Still, these people need a place to stay, and even how things are, this is a very safe place.

The Mad Ventriloquist should probably buy more groceries, or he'll end up feeding his visitors beer and toast.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

A sort of introduction: Minori and The Mad Ventriloquist

Minori and The Mad Ventriloquist had a lot in common, although they didn't know it at first. Their childhood homes ended up being only a few blocks away from each other. Both were the oldest sibling, both had been homeless for a period of time. They knew what it was like to grow up one person in a huge city and have no one care. How they dealt with this was their only real difference, but that meant everything.

When they first met, Minori was wearing her police uniform. The Mad Ventriloquist thought that she was being very rude. Was she trying to start a fight? Did she just feel like she was better than us? Knowing what he does now, The Mad Ventriloquist realizes that wasn't quite it.

The Mad Ventriloquist didn't write the conversation down and he technically wasn't supposed to be listening so he doesn't really remember what was said. He remembers the murders though. They were nasty, brutal things. Organs ripped out, bodies hung from trees. Some people probably already know what he's talking about. We had been hit hard. Several members had died. The Mad Ventriloquist had lost a friend. Minori had lost a sister.

The police wouldn't let her investigate. Partially because she was a newer cop and partially because it was a personal matter. But Minori had to know, she had to find answers. So she went to the only other source of authority she knew.

And they assigned The Mad Ventriloquist to help her.

Friday, August 5, 2011


The Mad Ventriloquist saw David again. This time it wasn't a dream. The Mad Ventriloquist was mostly sober. And David bothered to use the doorbell. The Mad Ventriloquist wasn't sure how to respond, so before he could David was inside and pushing a bunch of CDs into his arms. "That's what I've burned so far." he said and took a seat in a chair in the living room, "I can get you the rest later."

The Mad Ventriloquist placed the mess of CDs onto a nearby table and followed David into the living room. "Why are you here?" he asked, and David stared at him as if he had just said something really stupid. "Six years and that's what you have to say to me?" he answered. The Mad Ventriloquist wasn't sure what to say to that. It wasn't that he didn't want to see David. For years they had been best friends. Part of The Mad Ventriloquist wanted to smile and drink beer and welcome David in with open arms. But he still wasn't sure why he was here now.

"I would have been here earlier, but you're hard to find. Relax, this is just a social call." he told him. The Mad Ventriloquist actually did relax a little bit, but not too much. David noticed this. David notices almost everything. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, "I mean, I know it's been a long time. But I was sort of expecting something a bit more. A hello maybe?"

The Mad Ventriloquist let out a mechanical hello and David laughed. The sound filled up what is normally a quiet house. He left the chair he was sitting on and walked over to The Mad Ventriloquist. "I have spent years not knowing whether you were alive or dead, just hoping that he would fufill his part of the bargain. So forgive me if I come over to see if you're ok." The Mad Ventriloquist couldn't help but smile at that, just a little bit. "I'm fine." he said.

David sighed and waved around the room. "No you're not. Look at this, look at you. You're throwing your life away Ronan. And for what? What use is all of this if it doesn't make you happy?" He stepped away from The Mad Ventriloquist and walked over to the piano in the corner of the room. He ran a hand across the top and looked at the dust. "You don't play anymore?" he asked. The Mad Ventriloquist shook his head.  It brought back too many memories. David flipped open the keyguard and dragged The Mad Ventriloquist to the seat. "Come on. Just one more time, for my sake?" he said, and The Mad Ventriloquist said nothing. It had been so long ago, everything had. Yet David came in and everything seemed like before. David just smiled, and started to sing. I can't decide. Scissor sisters. A song they both knew by heart.

The Mad Ventriloquist began to play.

Like he expected, the more he played the more he remembered. David's voice firm and smooth and comforting, audible proof that not everything back then was all that bad. The Mad Ventriloquist likes to tell everyone that there are reasons that people do bad things. That they deserve a second chance. This seems like a good time to tell everyone that he was once a bad guy. He never worked for the slender man, but there are a lot of types of evil in the world. Some of them aren't even supernatural. He has tried to move on, to help, to become something more than that. But to do so he had put a negative light on everything that had happened to him before he decided to seek redemption.

It's hard to do that with a song playing and a friend singing next to it. It's hard not to remember that there is more to this world than memories and beer. But the memories for once were not unwanted, because it led him to a conclusion.

The Mad Ventriloquist had been searching for redemption, but he wasn't really sure what that was. It's a very vague word, and could mean all sorts of things. He had sort of been grasping at every lead trying to figure out what it was. But David showed him. It's not a heroic act or an epic quest or a moment of sacrifice. It is the moment when all the positive things of that world come back, all the temptation and the reasons and the opportunity, and you realize that you just don't want it anymore. It's meeting a man that once filled you with awe, and only feeling disgust.

The Mad Ventriloquist stopped playing and pulled the piano shut. "Get out David." he said. David stopped singing, and looked over at The Mad Ventriloquist, a look of hurt in his eye. It was gone fairly quickly, and his usual smile came back. He leaned down and kissed The Mad Ventriloquist on the forehead. "Don't think I'm going to give up that easily." he said,  and then he left.

It's time for The Mad Ventriloquist to stop wallowing in his self pity and guilt. It's time to talk about Minori.

Thursday, July 28, 2011


Every person running from the man in the business suit has had to deal with dreams. Sometimes they are good. Sometimes they are bad. The Mad Ventriloquist once knew someone who said that the slender man talked to him in his dreams. No matter what is going on, dreams are important. Sometime The Mad Ventriloquist wonders if dreams are his realm. Maybe he truly is a nightmare brought to life. But there is only one way to fight a dream.

Wake up.

The Mad Ventriloquist is not sure how to do that. He has sort of stopped trying to figure it out. The Mad Ventriloquist is not the one who should be doing the action. He is the one who should be getting drunk and giving out advice. Though he's not sure what to do about dreams. Sometimes he dreams, sometimes he doesn't. He dreamed of Minori a week ago. Last night he dreamt of someone else.

There was a sound of crashing glass and The Mad Ventriloquist got up to investigate. He got to the living room when he looked out of the broken window, then heard a man's voice from behind him. "So, this is what's become of you." the man in the shadows said, "The years have really made a difference. For a moment I thought I had the wrong house."

The Mad Ventriloquist looked around in the shadows but couldn't find a face. That didn't matter, he knew who the man was. Mostly because it was a dream. But probably also because he has a very distinct voice. Smooth and low, with a hint of an accent that was mostly forgotten. "How did you find me?" The Mad Ventriloquist said.

The shadow lit a cigarette and stayed silent for a while. Then he talked again. "Minori." he said, "I do check blogs sometimes. Using her real name was risky, you're lucky I found you." The Mad Ventriloquist wasn't sure if he felt lucky. So he said nothing. It was a dream, after all. It's easy to to do nothing and still have things happen.  "You don't mention me, though." he said. He seemed sad. The Mad Ventriloquist wasn't sure if he could actually be sad, but it was pretty convincing. "Did you forget about me?" he asked. The Mad Ventriloquist shook his head. "You're impossible to forget David." he said.

And then The Mad Ventriloquist woke up. Or passed out. He's actually not sure if it is a dream or not. His music CDs are gone. That's a very David thing to do.

The Mad Ventriloquist has to wonder why he hasn't talked about David. Maybe it's because David reminds him of Minori, or the slender man, or maybe because David reminds The Mad Ventriloquist of everything he is drinking to forget.

They were friends once, David and The Mad Ventriloquist. But the slender man came, Minori was gone, and David went with the man in the suit.

The Mad Ventriloquist wonders why David's here if this dream wasn't really a dream. Perhaps he just wanted to say hi.

Or perhaps the slender man has stopped leaving The Mad Ventriloquist alone.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

The Notebook: Donovan

(audio transcript)

Is… is this thing on? H-hello? Is.. is it on? It’s on. Okay.
Uhh… where do you want me to start? Yes, yes I know. The beginning. But…  But… which beginning?
Any beginning? You are very helpful. You are very very very helpful. Okay… Okay… Okay…
Can I have another drink first? This’d be easier with the dr—Really? You’re holding the drink hostage? You are not as much fun now when you’re serious as you normally are. Muh… Okay.
I guess… I guess it all started. Uhh… A year and a half ago.
I’m… I’m a married man. Technically. I mean I haven’t seen her in… in… since… since… since Caleb died. Can I please get a d--- Fine. [pause] I haven’t seen her since Caleb died.
Who’s Caleb? Caleb’s my son. You know this. The recorder, the recorder doesn’t know this. The recorder doesn’t know any--- [sigh, pause]. Caleb is my son. Samantha is my wife.
So Samantha and I got married a long time ago. And, we shouldn’t have. We did it for the wrong reasons and…  [pause].
Caleb started talking about a man with no face.
He was five. He’d just turned five. And he started talking about a man with no face. And… and… it’s fucking stupid. You think it’s just a kid’s story. Just another one of his little imaginary stories and and it’s fucking not. You find that it’s fucking fucking real and it’s going to hunt you down and make you bleed and… just… just…
We didn’t think it was real. And one day… One day… Samantha went out and… so I was watching… watching Caleb and I went outside for a smoke. And he was… [sigh] He was he was being annoying. God, that sounds so awful… It… he was just being a kid. And I let that get on my nerves…
So I went outside for a smoke and… the next thing I hear is this loud crack and I run back in… and Caleb’s on the floor. And his neck is bent all wrong. And there’s a mark under his chin from where he jumped… From where he jumped off one chair and… and aimed so his chin would hit the back of another and his neck just snapped.
My son snapped his own neck to get away from this thing.
[long pause]
And… and I… I still didn’t believe it at the time, ya know? I just thought it was a weird accident or something. Samantha got home and she… she started blaming me. And I guess I deserve it but… I don’t know.
And and… A little bit after I saw it for the first time. I actually saw that goddamn thing outside.
So then I started running. My family, not my wife, my parents  support me. Every… every first of the month… Every first they put money in my bank account. And I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve this… this money.
So that’s why I do what I do. I just travel. I keep running. I keep moving forward. I keep trying to help others so someday… someday maybe my karma evens out.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011


Sometimes, the world feels like a really terrible place. It isn't very nice sometimes. The Mad Ventriloquist wonders if there is something he's missing or it really is desigend to beat people up and take their lunch money. It can be sad sometimes.

But it can be good sometimes. And that is what people really need to focus on. That way, the darkness doesn't seem as deep. So celebration is key. People should always stop to celebrate, especially when there is something to be glad for. But not always just then. Being happy over nothing works. Though it's harder to make a theme party.

The Mad Ventriloquist has a lot to celebrate right now. On one hand, there is a wedding he is invited to. He won't be going of course. He hasn't gone outside in six years. But he has a nifty little webcam set up so he can watch all of it. On the other hand, Don is visiting.

He brought beer.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011


The Mad Ventriloquist has noticed there are an awful lot of notebooks. He wonders if the slender man and notebooks have some sort of contract. Probably not. Notebooks contain truth. And truth is dangerous, but precious.

The Mad Ventriloquist hasn't posted for so long because he wanted to do a notebook entry. But he had a hard time deciding which one. He had not realized before how many entries were about Minori. In between the lines, referenced in some of the sections, questions she asked, asides that The Mad Ventriloquist wrote down. She is in almost every page, too stubborn to be truly gone.

The Mad Ventriloquist is not sure how to feel about this.

Perhaps one day he will be ready to post the entries that tell Minori's story. That day will not be soon, and will probably include a lot of beer.

Until then, there are the notebook entries from after Minori. He plans to post a few of them. And it will take a lot less time than this post did.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Good and Evil

The Mad Ventriloquist has been thinking a lot about morality lately. A good man turned bad man turned good man made him think that maybe he should talk about it.

The Mad Ventriloquist believes that people are mostly good. That doesn't mean that everybody's nice and good and wonderful. There are some people out there that are all bad, but they are rare. Just like there are people out there who are all good. Most of us are in between, and most of the people who do bad things aren't all bad. They deserve help too.

There is always hope. There is always light. At least, The Mad Ventriloquist has to believe there is.

Friday, May 27, 2011

The Notebook: Annette

Annette was already in a mental institution when The Mad Ventriloquist met her. She had been found in the same house as her dead roomate, sitting in the corner and muttering about a tall man. She never stopped muttering, and the jury believed the insanity defense. She was placed in a high security facility, but Minori knew people.

Minori was the only reason The Mad Ventriloquist was there. She was very persuasive. A gun may have been involved. But it was the true start of the notebook so The Mad Ventriloquist can have no regrets.

The Mad Ventriloquist took the notes. He also had a tape recorder to make sure he caught everything. Minori asked the questions.

Annette muttered.

Minori asked questions for two hours. Annette did nothing but mumble.  She and The Mad Ventriloquist had almost given up. Then Minori mentioned her own sister. Then Annette said this:

"I had a sister too. He took her. He took her and I think I helped. Emily was trying to find out what happened. They say I killed her. I guess I did. I'm sorry for your sister. But you shouldn't look any further." She started muttering after that.

The Mad Ventriloquist doesn't agree with Annette. Annette was silenced. They locked her up and no one but The Mad Ventriloquist believed her. The Mad Ventriloquist has seen this technique before. Silence gives him power. He goes after those seeking the truth because it is an act of defiance. Speaking is dangerous, but it is brave. It is noble.

It is really late. The Mad Ventriloquist needs to pay more attention to time.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Website troubles

The Mad ventriloquist thinks he should have thought harder about  which website to keep a blog on. He is unable to comment for some reason, and it bothers him. He is here to communicate, to share, to support, to tell stories. He finds it harder to do without comments.

The Mad Ventriloquist is not giving up. He can still post, and so he shall.

The Mad Ventriloquist has noticed that many are hesitant to tell their stories. He understands. It is a difficult thing, and there is much to be lost. But there is much to be lost with silence as well, and at least if a story is spoken support is not far behind. The Mad Ventriloquist hears. The Mad Ventriloquist understands. And he shall help however he can.

The Mad Ventriloquist has an email address. It is . Email him, and he will answer. Unless he is vomiting. In which he will still answer, just later. That way, this blog is not the only way he can help, and the voices are harder to stop.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011


The Mad Ventriloquist's enemy is silence. When nothing is said, it is like a roadblock on a highway. Nothing passes through, no matter what needs to. Things need to be told, or nothing is known. Everyone has a story, and they need to tell them.

The Mad Ventriloquist has met many people who are afraid to speak. They think that it will bring the attention of the man in the business suit. And sometimes it does. And sometimes the stories spread those he knows about. But The Mad Ventriloquist cannot say that not telling stories is a good idea. Others get very mad at him saying that, though. Sometimes they throw rocks. But The Mad Ventriloquist lives on. And he shall encourage others to tell their stories. People should always tell stories.

The Mad Ventriloquist has never seen the slender man, but has seen his work. He has a notebook, full of stories from those who have lost to silence. They deserve to live on, like the rest of people. They deserve to have their stories told. This is how The Mad Ventriloquist can help, without risking leaving his chair and probably falling over. So he will.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

The Mad Ventriloquist Lives

The Mad Ventriloquist knows that there are a lot of stories out there. He has read stories about those who are running, or fighting, or finding another way to survive. But The Mad Ventriloquist knows many other stories that are not out there. The Mad Ventriloquist speaks for those who cannot. The Mad Ventriloquist is determined. The Mad Ventriloquist shall live for ever.

The Mad Ventriloquist is a little drunk. But he believes good can be done even if he fears standing up. He is aware of his faults, but he is still able to communicate. And so he will, for those no longer able to.

The Mad Ventriloquist needs more whiskey.