Hello, /x/.
Last weekend I made an astonishing discovery; I came upon my late older brother's hidden notebooks, in which he and his friends kept record of a series of odd situations which they were involved in. I began to transcribe and post excerpts from these books; the original thread was archived, and you can find it here:
http://chanarchive.org/4chan/x/10930/my-brother-was-a-whopping-eleven-years-older-than-me-so-i-don-t -remember-much-of-when-he-was-still-living
If you haven't read the thread, I strongly suggest that you. Otherwise what I post here will make little sense to you.
While I have been looking through the books whenever I had the time, this week is a very hectic one for me between work and classes, and I haven't been able to post more entries until now. I apologize for taking so long to make additional posts, but I *have* come across an interesting document in notebook five which sheds some light on this project.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Quoted By:
Tucked away in the back of notebook five, which is the smallest, is a typed transcript of an interview that my brother (who I will to refer to as B.) and his friends (who I will refer to by pseudonyms based on their initials) made as a sort of declaration. While I am not entirely sure of its implications, I think that it helps put things into perspective.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
YOU'RE BACK. :D
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 5: "The Hissing of Summer Lawns", Pt. 1 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Mon 23 May 2011 21:01:00 No. 7750269 Report Quoted By:
THE GROUP, F.'s APARTMENT, EARLY POST-INSOMNIA MORNING, FEB. 3, 2002
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 5: "The Hissing of Summer Lawns", Pt. 2 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Mon 23 May 2011 21:05:00 No. 7750286 Report Quoted By:
K: Okay. It is now 2002 and we have decided that we are going to compile our findings in a series of books which will be kept by B., our new... uh, treasurer? Are you okay with that?
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 5: "The Hissing of Summer Lawns", Pt. 3 [END] Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Mon 23 May 2011 21:07:00 No. 7750293 Report Quoted By:
F: Well, I guess the official group is B., T., A., K., our lovely new member N...
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
This is the transcript that I found at the end of notebook five. It all but confirms that my brother's friends were involved in the elaboration of these "Books of Sand", whatever they were supposed to be.
From now on, I am going to keep a blog where I will post all transcripts as I go, after proofreading them for typos or errors in translation:
http://thebooksofsand.blogspot.com/ Whenever I find the time, I will post new transcripts on /x/, and then update the blog with them. I apologize, I know it looks tacky, but I'm new to the whole blogging thing. I think it will suffice for now.
This is the fakest piece of shit ever. OP, fuck you and your silly story.
Anonymous
>>7750299 It will do fine. :D
I'll post the link again later for you.
Anonymous
You realize you've become something of a god to /x/
Anonymous
>>7750306 Hey, captain neckbeard, ever pause a sec to think that it doesn't matter one fucking bit if this is true or bullshit? Good read's a good read...
Anonymous
Quoted By:
You're back! I read the last thread last night when I couldn't sleep. Makes me miss my glory days with the paranormal.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
OP HOW DO SUMMON SUCCUBUS?!
Anonymous
Quoted By:
dear diary. today, OP was a faggot.
Professor Romaniuk
Quoted By:
You are my hero, Op.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
I've been waiting an hour for this since I've read the archive. I excited.
Anonymous
The whole "transcript" thing is getting old...
No offense. Seems like a good read.
>>7750328 no. not this shit again. the moment someone contributes you fags form a cult. just stop it. he's a contributing anon and that's it. do not worship him!
Worshipping him gives him a big ego and that causes people to lump him together with the tripfags, flame wars ensue and then he's run out of town. We've seen this happen COUNTLESS times so shut your filthy lakey hole
Professor Romaniuk
>>7750414 We are glad when we see something interesting. But I give you points for the subtle way of trolling.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
We missed you so much
Professor Romaniuk
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Book_of_Sand If you are interested in the original Book of Sand.
Anonymous
>>7750414 While too much dick sucking may be bad, /x/ is waaaay starved of anything really good, and usually is... yet all of us keep coming back like those two grumpy old dudes in the muppet show... It's just natural we flock to the only gem in a pile of shit
H !!Rh6KfVj5eSz
Quoted By:
I came buckets when I saw this thread.
Anonymous
>>7750524 Am I the only one who read the passage on 'not wanting to burn it since it would asphyxiate the world' and instantly thought of an infinite carbon-fuel source?
Fictional Borges was a selfish tool.
Professor Romaniuk
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>>7750598 Selfish? He didn't want to asphyxiate the world! Also, how could you turn an infinite burning book into fuel?
Anonymous
Pretty sure the original short story offers some insight into what the notebooks are all about, just don't know HOW.
Anonymous
>>7750539 Yeah, but the problem there is that there is so much shit that when something slightly better than shit happens, people think it is a gem.
OPINIONSOPINIONSOPINIONS
I don't see how this is any more or less interesting than any of the other transparent "look what I found" stuff. Well written does not mean engaging.
This doesn't appeal to me because I am not a teenager, so I'll just fuck off and wait for some creepy pictures.
Anonymous
I like this story cause it's all over the place. The first one sounded like it was a werewolf or some shit, and I thought it was going to be all about that. Then the baby doll part came, and the record part, and I'm now a fan.
Anonymous
Professor Romaniuk
Quoted By:
>>7750652 Are you talking about the Borges' short story. Maybe. The plot revolves around an infinite and chaotic book, without a central page. The Library of Babel was also mentioned in Op's story. You can all the books of the library inside the Book of Sand.
Anonymous
>>7750719 Just wait until the ads start appearing.
>>7750725 That's why I said OPINIONS, faggot. Enjoy the story if you want. I just don't think it's a 'gem'.
Just because I think it reads like a 12th grade interactive writing project doesn't mean you can't enjoy it.
Professor Romaniuk
>>7750766 Trollin' trollin' trollin'
Though the streams are swollen...
Anonymous
Anonymous
>>7750790 >>7750793 This is why /x/ is shit; people don't know how to ignore. I hope OP finds another chan to tell his story in. At least he won't have to deal with this in his blog if he doesn't want to.
*sigh*
Anonymous
Anonymous
Quoted By:
OP, fuck all the OPINONSOPINIONSOPINIONS people and keep posting for the sake of the people who would like to objectively read this.
Anonymous
Anonymous
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>>7750209 Yay! you're back!
Anonymous
Anonymous
I really want to know more about some of the other record stores; how there were considered safe or not-safe and everything. That was the most interesting stuff that was posted in my eyes.
Anonymous
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>>7750439 romaniuk is my last name o.0
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7751063 This!
I would also like to hear the Mom & Pop story mentioned in the original thread. I'm assuming that relates to the killing of rats mentioned? Sounds like it could be fascinating.
Please keep posting despite the faggots fouling the thread, OP. This if intriguing.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
is there more coming op?
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
I'm back for the time being. Thank you for all the observations and interest. I don't have a whole lot of time, so I can only transcribe one additional excerpt today.
>>7750317 Thanks!
>>7750652 As I've mentioned before, my brother was a fan of Borges, and apparently some of his friends were as well. I'm not sure if the name has any sort of special meaning beyond literary allusion.
As per usual, I will let /x/ decide what they want to read next:
A.) Mom & Pop
B.) Miranda Cassette Exchange
C.) Yuga Park under Watch
Anonymous
>>7751237 C
although maybe if the entries in the notebooks are dated you should go in order?
Anonymous
Anonymous
Anonymous
>>7751250 Wait! Can you confirm that the A is indeed the story of:
"1. [___] St., corner store, mom & pop shop, Chinese sweets. Rat infestation.
F. told me that what they really do is take them to the back and cut them up and this is why the radio in that store is really loud."
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Quoted By:
>>7751244 Some of the entries aren't dated, others are. The notebooks themselves have no linearity as far as I can tell, and I still haven't gone through them in their entirety and ordered the excerpts that ARE dated. I will try to do this at some point.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
>>7751254 Yes, I am looking through it right now and that seems to be the gist of it.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7751264 Okay, then my vote still stands. Thanks, by the way.
>>7751250 That was me.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Quoted By:
Well, I suppose I'll go with "Mom & Pop".
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Mom & Pop", Pt. 1 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Mon 23 May 2011 23:44:00 No. 7751362 Report This is the first time I get to tell a story for this so let's hope I don't fuck it up.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Mom & Pop", Pt. 2 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Mon 23 May 2011 23:49:00 No. 7751405 Report >>7751362 Now, you've definitely heard the rumors and jokes about Chinatown. You're only supposed to eat in the well-known places because everywhere else they will give you a back-alley rat on a platter and tell you it's spicy chicken. I've never really bought into that too much, I mostly think it's people being mean for no reason.
However, this little shop was full of them. Rats. Sometimes you would see one scurry over from one hall in the wall to another. The girl at the counter would look really embarrassed and the mom would get angry as hell and start sweeping everywhere. You know what was really creepy? Once, she was really frustrated I think, she hit one of the far back walls with the other end of the broomstick, she was looking for rats I guess, and I'm pretty sure she got more than she bargained for. We all heard this horrifying rattle and scurrying behind the wall, like there were a million of the little animals moving around behind that paper-thin wall. She never did that again. It was kind of sickening. I guess they were thankful I kept coming back--I was just a kid, after all--because most people steered clear of that place for reasons that are now pretty obvious.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Mom & Pop", Pt. 3 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Mon 23 May 2011 23:58:00 No. 7751474 Report >>7751405 The shop had a second floor, a staircase tucked away behind a wall that cut off at the back lead up to it. I think the whole family lived there. You could tell they were going through tough times because sometimes I would start to hear screaming in Chinese coming from upstairs, so the girl would give me this sad stare and turn the volume of the radio up, so I would hear the loud FM crackle and some old tune instead of the yelling. As a child I was very forgiving, I think.
So anyway, I kept coming back to that shop for a decent time, like maybe three months, long after school started again, and one day I come in and I find the father at the counter. I asked him what had happened to his daughter and he said he was taking care of her brother. I didn't know there was a brother; I mostly thought she was an only child. The father informed me that he had many, many sons. He had a VERY loose grasp on our language so I'm guessing he didn't exactly mean that. A lot of what he said didn't make sense. For example, he said that he also sold "milk" if I ever wanted some, which they didn't, and then he started rambling, half in Chinese, half in chewed-up local vernacular, that the women in his family always pampered the men.
I think I'm getting a bit too long-winded. I'll get to the point. What happened was that I once mentioned this store to a boy from school I liked, let's call him Giovanni, because he had a fancy foreign name. You don't know him, he transferred to another school a couple years later. He was very mischievous, and taller than me. He said, I know that place, and then he asked if I wanted to see what they REALLY did there.
Anonymous
Anonymous
Quoted By:
archiver this too
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Mom & Pop", Pt. 4 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 00:06:00 No. 7751560 Report >>7751474 So we went to the store one day later than usual, when it was already getting dark, but then again it gets dark early in the winter. Giovanni was wearing the funniest scarf, I remember, but that's not the point. He said, a kid who lives here told me that they cook rats in the back. I rolled my eyes at him and told him that that's what they ALL said about EVERYWHERE here and that that wasn't cool or interested, but he put on this really serious face and said no, really, I'll show you.
That day the father was also watching the counter, and the rest of the alleged family was nowhere to be seen. We went around the store and to the back. The store had a little back room, I always assumed it was for storage, nobody ever went in or out of there as far as I could tell. There was a little window in the back that peered into that room, but it was protected by iron bars to keep burglars out. You could still see through it, but barely.
Giovanni put out his hands to let me climb up on them and look. So I did. I grabbed on to the bars and peered into the room. It was dimly lit. I couldn't see much other than a dingy old bed and a small desk with a lamp on it. Then the door opened. It was the mother. What I'm going to tell you know is why we don't go to that one kiosk.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7751560 ugh these are so good, the plot thickens!
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Mom & Pop", Pt. 5 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 00:12:00 No. 7751612 Report >>7751560 Again, it was dark in there and it was dark outside. I strained my eyes to see. Also I was freezing and Giovanni down there was complaining about his arms. But I was only focused on what was going on in that room, the mother came down and then she stood in front of the bed. She just looked down on the mattress, which was covered with a really thin sheet, and I could just barely make out that it was covered in stains, plus the whole thing was really lumpy and uneven, like it was a really old mattress that a lot of people had slept in over the years. I figured this all made sense because after all this family didn't seem to be very affluent. And then she ripped off the sheets.
I realized that the bumps under those sheets weren't from a lousy mattress, the whole thing was just covered in rats. Like a gray carpeting of these animals, each varying from the size of a hamster to a full-grown rabbit, just standing there, inert, as if they were paralyzed. At this very same moment, peripherally, I noticed that whoever was working the clerk at that moment--I'm guessing the father--turned the radio up loudly again. The animals didn't move at all. The mother just stared at them, I don't really know what kind of look she was giving them, if it was tenderness or fear or hate or something. Then she spun around and yelled out a name I knew. The daughter came into the room. She hung her head low, as if she were about to be reprehended for something.
Anonymous
>>7750209 OP are you from Argentina?
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7751617 He already said no.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Mom & Pop", Pt. 6 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 00:17:00 No. 7751656 Report >>7751612 They talked really quickly, like, chattering, in Chinese. First the mother, these long sentences, and sometimes the daughter would try to interrupt but she would overpower her with her own voice and continue. The daughter didn't attempt to make eye contact. The mother raised her arm and first pointed at her, as if blaming her for something, then she waved her arms around, gesticulating wildly about who knows what, and then the daughter tried to speak up again and she slapped her. When that slap reverberated throughout the tiny, cramped, rat-infested room, that coat of vermin lying on the bed suddenly sprang to life, quivering and shaking like an animal waking up abruptly, and making those high-pitched hissing squeals that rats make when they're excited, like you're going to give them food or something, we've all had to deal with rats at some point. I can play this whole scene back in my head like it happened yesterday, by the way. Giovanni was still complaining but I tuned him out. The radio was still on pretty loud.
It's lucky that at that time of day Chinatown is practically abandoned because otherwise we would've looked pretty silly to passerby, peering into the back room of some family's private business, and some old lady with nothing better to do would have probably stopped by to admonish us.
That unified hiss of the rats kept rattling the back room. The mother and the daughter stood there, silent as graves. Then the mother, without saying a word or making any sort of gesture, walked out, shut the door behind her, and left the girl alone with the animals in the room.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Mom & Pop", Pt. 7 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 00:25:00 No. 7751717 Report >>7751656 Giovanni asked me what was going on and I told him to shut up. We were lucky they hadn't heard us. I looked into the room with full concentration. I was enraptured by the inexplicable scene developing before me. What now? Was she going to take out some big pot from under the bed and start cooking? Was that really all it came down to?
In the room, there was this silence that touched me, went beyond the fear and fascination of that moment, and suddenly I remembered that this girl was my friend and I liked her, and whatever she was doing in that room she was clearly doing it against her will, and that made me sad. It also made me feel wrong, because I was poking my nose into her private life, and additionally my leg was getting sore and I was losing my footing.
The girl just stood there, staring at the animals, and it was almost like they stared back because they quieted down suddenly. I've mentioned that this room was dimly lit, there was only one old lamp in the corner turned on, that's why I couldn't even really see what was going on on the bed. Anyway, like twenty seconds of ambivalent silence passed. Then--I remember this in slow motion--first, the girl, she unbuttoned her blouse, really quickly, practically torn it off, she had a bra underneath, I think it was the first time I'd seen one, and she had a lot of marks and purple bruises and scars on her shoulders, and over her collarbones and some on her belly, but most importantly on her breasts, they were all scratched, petite as they were, and then she spun around and switched off the lamp.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Mom & Pop", Pt. 8 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 00:31:00 No. 7751768 Report >>7751717 At this point I lost my footing, partially because I was sore, partially because I was scare, partially because I didn't want to continue looking at whatever was going on there, and fell on my butt. Giovanni made fun of me in silence but then immediately he asked me what I saw. I said, I don't know. I really don't know. But there were rats, I said. You were right. And then he did the little song-and-dance all self-righteous kids do when they're proven right and he started telling me about other strange things he'd heard about Chinatown, but he was cut off by screams.
Do you remember how I told you that sometimes I would hear this screaming coming from the second floor and then the girl would turn up the volume of the radio so nobody would hear? Well this was the same thing, except it was the girl screaming, but then the father joined in, I heard the door open and slam shut once more, and I heard the mattress give in to pressure, the rusted springs squealing, and I heard something knocked over, and I heard that awful, sinister hiss of all the rats, and I heard them crawling up and down the insulation in the walls, in the sewers, under my feet, and for a moment I FELT hundreds of tiny little claws crawling all over me, it was freezing, I was terrified by the screaming, I nearly pissed myself all over right there. Giovanni pulled me up. For a split second I considered peering back into the room, but with the light off I couldn't see anything, I didn't want to, either, so Giovanni and I ran away. On the way back I passed by the front of the store. There was nobody at the counter.
Anonymous
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Mom & Pop", Pt. 9 [END] Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 00:35:00 No. 7751802 Report >>7751768 I never came back to that place again, but it's still around, they tell me, although the daughter doesn't work there anymore, and you never see the father doing anything because he's senile and in permanent bed rest, so it's all the mother's work now. I've never seen the son they once mentioned; apparently nobody has. I told this story to F. once, you know he's my cousin, right? Way before I knew the rest of you I told the story to him, but I chickened out of telling the truth, I went with the conventional answer and said "Yeah, they cook rats there." As a matter of fact I hadn't told anyone the whole thing until now. I haven't seen Giovanni in ages, either.
I could still come back to that store someday if I felt like it--as far as I know they didn't see me that night--, but honestly I don't want to. There's a bit of an epilogue to this story, though, one you can go check out yourself if you want to. You know that little kiosk in the corner of [____] and [____] St. where D. used to buy her cigarettes? They sold all kinds of stuff without regards for regulations, cigarettes, porn, kids' sticker albums, all on the stands. You know how most days there's this plump lady, lots of creases and dark spots on her face, of Asian descent? She's well known. Well, I stopped by there one time. I saw her from afar, she didn't recognize me. But that's her. That's the daughter. I guess she's working there now. Maybe she's keeping the business alive, opening a new locale. I don't know.
---END---
Anonymous
Quoted By:
epic thread is epic
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
>>7751802 And that's it. I'm not sure of who narrates this story, I'm not familiar with any of F.'s relatives. As for the Chinatown store and the kiosk, I had never heard of the former, but then again there are hundreds of such little stores in that neighborhood, and I do know that there is a kiosk on the location specified. I've never stopped to look at the person who manages it, but I've never heard any strange stories about it. Then again I don't go looking for them, either.
Unfortunately, that's all the time I have for today. I'll stay for a few more minutes to answer any more questions, then I have classes.
Anonymous
Anonymous
Anonymous
>>7751825 Damn. Thanks for stopping by, OP.
I'm a little curious at a mention from the record store story. Have you seen yourself mentioned or referenced in any of the other entries?
Anonymous
Quoted By:
Thank you OP.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
Awesome stuff Little Brother. You are right in assuming that these stories were influenced by Borges as they have that vibe to them.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
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>>7751869 So far, no. One of the stories mentions my birthday, which is weird. Others mention my sister, but we never feature prominently in any of excerpts from what I've read so far.
Anonymous
Have you considered contacting any of your brothers friends about the notebooks?
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Quoted By:
>>7751897 I do want to contact his friends and ask them about this eventually, but it's not so easy. As far as I know, T. is living in America, F. is somewhere in Central America, I think Honduras, K. apparently dropped off of everyone's radar a couple years ago, and I never even knew of the existence of N. or E. prior to discovering these notebooks. As for D., I'm not precisely sure of who she is, because my brother knew two people who went by this name. X is still a mystery, because he is literally referred to as "X" in the notebooks; it's not a pseudonym I made up.
The only person I could maybe contact is A., who, as far as I know, still lives in this city. I'll see what I can do about that when I'm not so busy.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Quoted By:
Well /x/, that's all for now. Again, thank you for your continued interest. I'll be back as soon as I have the time.
Anonymous
Anonymous
Anonymous
Quoted By:
OP, will you be back later, or another day?
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7752414 >congrats, this thread has been requested 4 times and will now be archived Anonymous
sooo.... the women were breastfeeding the rats?
Anonymous
>>7752719 See the original mention.
"F. told me that what they really do is take them to the back and cut them up"
I'm not sure about the damage to her breasts and shoulders and whatnot, unless it's just from being scratched and bitten while surrounded by rats, which seems perfectly plausible.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7752740 Oh, wait, but F. was fed a lie. I forgot. So . . . I still don't know?
Anonymous
Quoted By:
Damn, I just got into this... OP, I'm happy you posted.
Vensik
Quoted By:
this is the reason i come to /x/ because once in a great while you find a gem like you
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Good evening once more, /x/. I hope you've found the excerpts interesting so far.
Anonymous
Anonymous
Anonymous
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Quoted By:
B it is, then.
Jenny
Quoted By:
CRAWLING IN MY SKIN
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 3: "Yuga Park under Watch", Pt. 1 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 06:52:00 No. 7754367 Report THE IGNOMINIOUS X, CAFÉ "HAITI", [___] ST., 1995
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 3: "Yuga Park under Watch", Pt. 2 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 06:58:00 No. 7754405 Report >>7754367 It was like nighttime but not really nighttime, it was twilight actually, it was around six. It was that time of day we all love because it feels lazy and old and the sunlight is coming from just the right angle to illuminate everything like an old picture, you know? You know about this. [Laughter] Shut up. Shut up! Okay so Yuga park. I'm at Yuga park. This is like just five days ago, this is completely recent shit, I hope you're paying attention because you and I, we can't go to that place anymore. As a matter of fact I suggest you advice all your little friends on the dangers of Yuga park, and I'm not just talking about getting mugged or drugged or raped or kidnapped at night or all that other fun teenage shit, I'm talking about REAL danger, I'm talking about the guys, you know the guys.
So I met up with The Guy--you know, The Guy, don't make me repeat myself--and he was selling me this really good weed for a really good price, I'm not always this adventurous, you know, it's like my dad said before he died, way before he died, he said, you know, the hard stuff is fun sometimes, but, sometimes you just want some good, old, sticky weed, my dad was a hippie, have I told you that? He was a hippy motherfucker, and so was my mom, but she's not anymore.
The sunlight was really nice and I was just sitting there watching people like B. does, you know, he likes doing that, he's weird, I was just letting go and enjoying the moment, and this asshole, at first I thought he was a fag, and he was like, coming on to me. That happens a lot in Yuga park a lot, too, you know, it happens to much. At first I thought he was a fag and he was coming on to me. Have you noticed that everyone is looking at us weird? Get the check. Let's go to the back.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 3: "Yuga Park under Watch", Pt. 3 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 07:02:00 No. 7754429 Report >>7754405 THE IGNOMINIOUS X CONTINUES HIS STORY IN THE BACK ALLEY BEHIND CAFÉ "HAITI", AFTER BEING UNCEREMONIOUSLY INVITED TO LEAVE THE LOCALE
Where were we? It's called. Oh yeah, this asshole. This asshole sits next to me and starts killing me buzz. I think he was trying to provoke me, probably, he was whispering this shit at me, trying to look totally normal and natural, he had a snake tattoo, by the way, it was this stupid fucking snake tattoo wrapped around his arm, it was the stupidest shit I've ever seen, and I've seen lots of stupid shit, mostly coming from old people.
So this guy says something like, "Do you know who the Brutalists are?" And I'm like, fuck, now I'm screwed. But really, really screwed. Because well, he's talking about the Brutalists, and--what do you mean? The Brutalists, they're all part of the group, it's a thing they do. It's the Brutalists, the Nobles, the Legion, and... one more but I don't remember what it's called. Write this shit down later. This is exactly what they do. I said something like, fuck you, man, I don't know what you're saying, leave me alone, and suddenly I realize it's nighttime and everyone has left and there are like five more of these assholes, they were all dressed really nicely, though. But they were all surrounding me.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 3: "Yuga Park under Watch", Pt. 4 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 07:07:00 No. 7754454 Report >>7754429 And they just look at me, and they're grinning. Really wide grins, they have really clean teeth and really white eyes, like, around the eyes. But they're pure evil. I just know that. I can tell. So the one sitting next to me stands up and says, come with us.
I'm not fucking A. or whatever, okay? I can't just activate my super strength or whatever it is he has and pounce on five guys. Plus I was still tripping, when I told you that The Guy's shit was good I wasn't kidding, by the way. So I just keep quiet and keep my head down, I look to see if there's any police or decent people that might help a poor boy being assaulted by a bunch of evil men, but there's nobody around, Yuga park is fucking deserted all of a sudden. It's like the people disappear on the few moments that you would actually like them to be around.
So I went, reluctantly with them, I thought they were going to take me behind some place and beat me up or mug me or worse, but no, these weren't muggers, of course, they weren't a gang, either. These were upstanding members of society. I picked it up the second he started talking about the Brutalists. These were the assholes who were kicked out of the Clan of Adoration--I think that's what it's called--and wanted to get back in. So they started asking me, where does E. live? Does she live with her parents? How does she rank? How long have they been in the clan? And I just shake my head.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 3: "Yuga Park under Watch", Pt. 5 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 07:16:00 No. 7754500 Report >>7754454 I'm not a loser or a coward or a traitor, I wasn't going to say anything, my plan was just to pretend that I didn't know E. at all, and didn't know what they were talking about either. Actually I don't know how they even knew that I was associated with any of that, and I'm not, anyway, so it doesn't make sense. But back to the story, I was in this fucking seedy back alley, there was no moon in the sky, just a really desolate streetlight in the far left, and I have these five guys ganging up on me, and I think at this point I started to make peace with the fact that I was going to die here, because the guy with the snake tattoo takes out a knife.
But I think I got really brave all of a sudden, I was like, fuck, I don't care, you're going to carve up some kid because of something so stupid, are you retards, I started to really make a racket, I think someone could have heard me in the distance, I figured that if they didn't stab me first someone would come to my rescue, but no one did. Plus it got really foggy that night, which was weird because it's still summer, but whatever.
And they kept pushing and pushing. And I don't really have much else to say because I kept denying everything. So the guy got really mad, he picks me up by the collar, the other ones start inching closer, I can feel their combined breath on my face, it was caustic, they had the worst breath in the world, like they had rotten from the inside.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 3: "Yuga Park under Watch", Pt. 6 [END] Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Tue 24 May 2011 07:19:00 No. 7754514 Report >>7754500 They tossed me onto some garbage bags in a back alley and left me there, I was still in a daze, and I didn't see where or how they left, but I think they got in a car after turning a corner. And well, fuck, you can see what kind of reminder they left me with. [Points to sutured cut on left cheek] It was pretty deep with the way. The doctor said I was lucky or whatever. I told mom that I got mugged, what else was I gonna say anyway.
Don't tell E. about this, I don't want her getting paranoid. They're not gonna touch anyone unless you get in their range of action. Just don't go near Yuga park. I'm pretty sure they're keeping tabs on all of you, on your whole little group, so I'm going to try and keep anything bad from happening. But I can't promise anything. As you can see. So just be careful out there. They're loser anyway, this isn't like the New World Order or anything, just a bunch of angry old men. You know. Old people. They're the worst.
[--End of interview--]
[B.,
Sorry for stopping by your house while you were out, but I thought I should leave this in the Books as soon as possible. I forgot to tell you that I was still holding on to a transcript of this back from '95. It's a good idea that everyone re-read this sometime. You know, because it's X.
- F.]
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
>>7754514 That's all there is. Apparently this is an interview carried out by F. and recording an incident that occurred with this X person in 1995. In case you're wondering, I don't know what the "Clan of Adoration" is, frankly it sounds a little silly, not to mention extremely novelesque.
I'll be leaving now, as I have things to do early tomorrow morning. I will come back soon to /x/ and make another thread to continue with the transcription of the Books of Sand. As always, thank you.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7754536 Looking forward to it, sir!
Anonymous
Quoted By:
This is not on the first page?... BUMP!!!!
Anonymous
Anonymous
Anonymous
Anonymous
Quoted By:
best oc ever. bumping this shit. archive this please
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>record store story from last thread >>mfw even hipsters have urban legends
Anonymous
Quoted By:
OP, wonderful OC. Up there in the royalty of /x/ with vox and beau and all the rest. Well done.
Anonymous
>>7750209 Fuck you and your fucking stories then... It's archived in a place that won't fucking load because the stinking servers are too small, and you're fucking unprofessional, fucking queer
OP !!VF552IUEIiK
>>7757513 Yaknow, I know I shouldn't even do this because you come off as a massively ungrateful twat, buuuuut i'll do it for everyone else.
http://thebooksofsand.blogspot.com/ Little Brother has everything up except for the Yuga Park excerpt
Anonymous
>>7757612 Yeah and I'll stay fucking ungrateful until you learn to do things properly, and not just halfassed, fucking cunt
Anonymous
>>7757513 >>7757894 OP owes nothing to you cunt, so shut the fuck up. Seriously, this guy's sharing something so you can enjoy it and the only thing you do is bitch like a spoiled fourteen year old girl. Use the archive-no-ip /4chan archives fucking newfag.
OP !!VF552IUEIiK
>>7757894 Lulz, doing things properly eh? Well why dont you show us your wealth of properly archived creepy pasta that you yourself wrote?
Go on. I'll wait.
Anonymous
>>7758102 >"Ohhhhhhhh! look at me! I contribute so much now, I be so really fucking cool now for contributing, but doing things improperly, but I'm still cool, I'm the toughest guy in the gang, I'm THE king of /x/!" Why the fuck would I show you any of the creepypasta I've written for the page here ? let alone actually bother saving it when what I do is creating for the sake of creating, not to be recognized as the motherfucking coolfag I am ?. Go choke on a dick and get out
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7757979 Like I hadn't already gone there, and there was fucking nothing!, so maybe YOU should just shut the fuck up and try and get your fucking things together you little bitch ? And you should talk about acting like a 14-year-old girl "OH no! he's talking bad about stacy, I'd better go and tell him what an idiot he is! that'll teach him!", no it won't, you little fuck.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7758186 >so angsty 14 year old Guys, ignore the trolls. Especially the teenaged ones.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7758186 >>7758102 >awesome oc >you two bickering like a little bitch Dude, shut up, I'm trying to read a story here.
OP !!VF552IUEIiK
>>7758186 Tee-hee, he still thinks i'm OP
Anonymous
Quoted By:
You are both idiots...
Anonymous
>>7758316 Well, can you get rid of your trip?
Anonymous
Anonymous
Quoted By:
OP just a small Sugestion. Wouldn't it be easier just to use their real first names instead of letters. It would make it so much easier for us and your not really giving anything away. Saves you time and confusion.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7758394 >can't see fake!trip Anonymous
this thread is boring. the other one too.
Anonymous
>>7759887 Your face is boring!
Anonymous
Anonymous
I don't know about you guys but I really want to hear the story about the Children of District 11
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7760274 This. Not sure if Little Brother will come back to this thread again, but if so, please post that one.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Hi, /x/. I'm back from class. First off, I have now posted the last excerpt ("Yuga Park under Watch") in the blog that I will be using to document all of this. As per usual, you can read it all here:
http://thebooksofsand.blogspot.com Tonight I have a bit more time than usual (mostly because I didn't plan on getting much sleep anyway), so I will post two stories. And of course, you get to choose which:
A.) Miranda Cassette Exchange
B.) The Children of District 11
C.) Interview with J.
Anonymous
Anonymous
Anonymous
>>7761001 > YOU SHOULD READ THEM ALL YOURSELF AND FIND OUT WHAT THE CLAN OF ADORATION IS AND TELL US ONCE AND FOR ALL IF IT'S AS GAY AS IT SOUNDS. Anonymous
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7750209 >; I came upon my late older brother's hidden notebooks, > came upon my late older brother's hidden > came upon my late older brother > came upon my brother Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
>>7761068 I should, although I haven't found any excerpt with "Clan of Adoration" in the title yet.
I guess I'll go with A.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 1 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 03:34:00 No. 7761134 Report One morning, E. and I decided that we were going to skip class. For the most part we didn't do things like that. E. was pretty serious about her marks, which was a change from her usual apathetic response to everything. We spent most of the morning at my house (my parents were away on their second honeymoon at the time, so I guess this was in '97), watching really stupid infomercials and re-runs of game shows, and talking about all sorts of things. I didn't really hang out with E. much, she was more of D.'s friend, I guess. But I wanted to ask her about her parents. In the end I didn't. I felt a little embarrassed.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7761102 Don't take that comment the wrong way, either. I think this whole thing is fucking awesome. I'm becoming a nerd for this story or whatever it is.
Anonymous
>>7761001 >mfw I come in just slightly too late to vote for B with the intensity of a thousand succubi. Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>7761143 > 1000 magic rapists demand the story of The Children of District 11. Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 2 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 03:41:00 No. 7761168 Report >>7761134 So I was waiting for her outside the ladies' room (I'm not the kind of girl who does the "oh let's all go to the bathroom together" thing) and suddenly I heard this sound like she was trying to pry something off the wall. I started to wonder what the hell she was doing in there but kept quiet, you know, because E. was a pretty private person. And suddenly she comes out of there, she's practically hyperventilating and can hardly manage to form words. She says something like, oh my God, you won't believe what I found in there, come in, come in right now, take a look for yourself, and from the look on her face it was like she had found fucking Santa Claus in the ladies' room, so I obliged.
First thing I noticed was this plastic thing lying on the floor. It was this big roll of toilet paper, you know, they put them in these plastic casings and you push a lever and pull out some of the paper to dry your hands with, you know what I'm talking about, right? It was hanging on the back wall of the bathroom. Anyway, where it used to be hanging there was a hole. Apparently E. had heard some sort of scratching or shuffling behind it, and, in a moment of poor judgment decided to pry it off the wall. Behind it was a hole in the wall through which you could see the insulation and other crap, I figured that they had made it accidentally or found it there and decided to cover it up as conveniently as possible. There was something else in there, of course. It was a cassette tape labeled "EXCHANGE".
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 3 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 03:46:00 No. 7761197 Report >>7761168 Back then everyone here was still using and buying cassettes for everything, which was very convenient for us because, as we would find out later, they were one of our safe mediums. Not anymore, of course. Now we're reduced to vinyl and handwriting. Pretty pathetic.
Anyway it was your pretty standard cassette which you can buy in bulk, it had a label on it saying "EXCHANGE", written crudely in marker. E. was like, what is that? Who do you think left it there? I didn't really know what to tell her. Needless to say it was pretty weird. I think that at some point some other girl came into the bathroom, saw us peering at the hole in the wall, turned on her heel and walked right back out. We're pretty lucky none of the staff caught us tearing their bathroom down.
We couldn't play the tape there, as we had no way of doing so. I was ambivalent about taking it, this wasn't my first experience with "Weird Shit", and, although this wasn't particularly weird, I had a very potent feeling that it could become so. But E. was determined to take it and find out what was in it, for some reason. The cassette was unmarked other than the label. So we took it, tried to get the paper roll back on the wall, sort-of succeeded (it was hanging, lopsided), and drove back to my house.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 4 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 03:53:00 No. 7761227 Report >>7761197 Back at my place, which was empty those days, I didn't have a radio or anything with a cassette player for some reason. I dug out my Walkman but I didn't have batteries and I doubt it would have worked either way. So we ended up having to climb into my Dad's car to use the built-in cassette player. It was a pretty funny scene, the two of us sitting there in anxious expectation.
So we sat there and listened to most of it. It was really bad quality, you might not remember that tape hiss was already pretty annoying but on top of that it sounded like it had been recorded from a distance or something, like it was a recording of a recording of a recording. Anyway, there isn't anything particularly weird about that tape. It's just a mixtape of sixties psychedelia. There some stuff from Kaleidoscope on there, mainly "Tangerine Dream", and there's some Beatles, obviously, and there's other stuff, but E. and I weren't really into that genre so we didn't listen to it all the way. Later on, on my own, I would listen through the whole thing out of curiosity, but as I said, beyond the quality of the recording, there's nothing special about it.
But this is when we realized that, since the tape was labeled "EXCHANGE", maybe we were supposed to leave something in return. You know, leave something in the hole in the bathroom, for whoever it was that left this there. The idea struck us as silly. But by that time school wasn't over yet, and we didn't have anything better to do, so, armed with one of my many mixtapes, which are sort of a hobby of mine, we drove back to Miranda.
Anonymous
Quoted By:
This is great, OP. I just hope it doesn't turn into some SECRET PARANORMAL SPECIAL-OPS Marvel-ish bullshit like some people have suggested. The fact that everything's so "tuned down" or whatever (english is not my language) and that it might just be a group of weirdoes over-imagining things just adds to the creepiness and reality of it somehow.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 5 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 03:59:00 No. 7761259 Report >>7761227 We talked to each other on the way back there and speculated on what kind of person might be leaving these tapes, and whether she (we assumed it was a she, since it was the ladies' room after all) really expected someone to find them in that hiding spot. We wondered if it was some college student's social experiment; actually, that's what I thought for the most part. E. had her own theory. She thought it was some desperate woman, living a lonely life imposed upon her by her family, who had no form of expressing herself, and, in this desperation, reached out to strangers by leaving cassettes tapes hidden in public places throughout the city, checking back every week, hoping that some equally lonely soul had found one of them and given something back in return. I'm pretty sure she was projecting.
We got back to the supermarket and, happily, none of the people working there seemed to recognize us, Miranda is actually pretty busy at that time of day. We both walked into the ladies' room again. Luckily, the canister or toilet paper holder or whatever you wanna call it was still hanging on, albeit only slightly. We picked it up with care and put my mixtape, which, now that I think about it, was mostly grunge (god, that's embarrassing), in the hole. We figured that maybe we should leave a message. So we ripped off a piece of toilet paper and scribbled onto it, "THANK YOU", quite crudely, and we left it in there along with the tape. We put the canister back in its place--we had sort of gotten the hang of getting it to stay there--and left, mostly laughing about the whole thing. Later that day we met up with the rest, but didn't tell them anything, figuring it would be more fun for now if it was our secret.
Anonymous
>>7761227 >I didn't have a radio or anything with a cassette player >my many mixtapes, which are sort of a hobby of mine Anonymous
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 6 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 04:06:00 No. 7761322 Report >>7761259 The next day E. and I debated over whether we should go back to Miranda and check if there was a new tape. I mostly wanted to forget about the whole thing, because frankly I didn't think anyone was actually checking that hole to see if someone had responded. I figured it was a fluke, or something that had been left there years ago, and whoever had done it had forgotten it about it. E. didn't buy it, though. She was certain that whoever had left that tape was actively checking back. I managed to convince her that we should go back next weekend, because even if her theory was true, I doubted that our hypothetical swap partner was checking the Miranda bathrooms every day. Then again what do I know. Maybe he was some pervert looking to get in touch with schoolgirls via public bathrooms.
The rest of the week went by rather slowly, A. was fully into whatever he was doing back then, I think it was Muay Thai or Valetudo or whatever it's called, it was some kind of martial arts thing, so we didn't see much of him. B. and F. were off doing their own thing, and anyway we didn't want to tell anyone about it. So we just hung out at home (I think we ended up skipping three out of those five days of school, it was terrible), watching movies and talking.
I actually ended up learning a lot of stuff about E. back then, much to F.'s pleasure, who was totally crazy for her at the time, but she kept her mouth shut about her parents for the most part. On Friday we drove back to Miranda upon E.'s bequest and went in there again. Sure enough, our mysterious correspondent had been very busy.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
>>7761285 [Admittedly, that doesn't make a lot of sense.]
>>7761322 The mixtape we left had been taken alright. In its stead a new cassette had been left, the exact same model as the previous one. This one had a label that was really long and badly-written, and inside that dingy bathroom we couldn't read it for shit, so we went back to the car. This time around we had taken my Dad's car in anticipation, since that way we could play it immediately on the way back home. We got in the car and rolled down the windows, E. took the opportunity to light a cigarette. She put the tape in and read the label out loud, not without some effort:
"Soundtrack to a Manic Night of Preparation Before an Important Challenge"
She looked at me, shrugged, and I pushed play. This time the tape was a combination of New Wave stuff, I especially remember "Bizarre Love Triangle" because, although I probably wouldn't admit it to anyone, I love that song, and then there was also really quiet folk. It went something like this: Bombastic New Wave --> Folk --> Silence --> Folk --> New Wave again, and so on. All in all it lasted about 25 minutes per side. We finished listening to it at my place and were mostly unimpressed.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 7 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 04:17:00 No. 7761389 Report >>7761359 As with the previous tape, this one had a terrible recording quality. Again, it was like a recording of a recording of a recording. We could recognize most of the songs, and for the ones we couldn't, we usually knew the artist. Later I asked B. about some of them, without directly telling him about the whole cassette exchange thing, and he confirmed most, I think. The most interesting parts were the silent ones.
In between folk songs there were these tracks which were mostly silence, mostly tape hiss, but you could hear some shuffling and moving things around as well, and in one of them you can hear a voice. It's really faint, but I'm pretty sure it's female. And there are these hints of musicality to them, like very softly you'll hear a sax in the distant play for just like ten seconds and then it's gone. I'm not sure if those were live recordings or more recordings-of-recordings. And then in another "silent track", if you listen really closely, you can hear someone talking steadily in the background, I'd say it's an older man, he sounds like he's answering questions, but the quality is too bad for me to make out a word.
E. was really excited about the whole thing regardless; just the fact that the person had actually responded was great to her. Admittedly I was surprised by that as well. E. said that the exchange was still going, and we should leave something else for the person the next time we went there. We decided that "next time" would be tomorrow.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 8 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 04:23:00 No. 7761428 Report >>7761389 This time we put a lot of thought into what kind of tape we were going to leave in return. We speculated about whether leaving different kinds of music resulted in getting different things in exchange. Whoever was doing this was putting so much effort into it, we figured, that surely she(?) must be listening to our stuff as well. I found a bootleg of a band I used to like, they never got big, so it's not like the tape was worth anything, and its sentimental value to me was gone after a certain incident. So I decided we would do that. We weren't very creative, and we didn't consider the tape to be a "Soundtrack" to anything, so we just wrote "Here's another one" on the label. Nice, I know.
We drove back there, it was a Saturday morning and again we went in Dad's car, though I'm not sure why. We went into the bathroom, took the canister out, and in the middle of doing this, some girl walked out of one of the bathroom stalls. We were incredibly embarrassed. She gave us a weird look, washed her hands and walked out. She looked a bit older than us, probably a college student, wearing jeans and a black shirt. She gave us kind of a dirty look, really. But as soon as she left we got right back to business. We left the tape, drove back, and talked some more.
Anti-Fume
Probably some fucked up zelda
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 9 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 04:28:00 No. 7761460 Report >>7761428 I guess I should leave for the record--although I don't really want to--that by this point E. sort of opened up to me and told me some stuff about her parents. Apparently her Dad owed a lot (a *lot*) of money to some group. According to her, her Dad had done nothing illegal, he had simply parted with what rightfully belonged to him, but the other members were angry and his entire family had been sucked into a slow-moving legal mess that had been going on for years. E. was really shocked about what had happened to X before, though, because she never thought things would come down to violence. F.'s theory at the time was that E.'s dad was with the mob, which I don't think it's true. Whatever it was, her dad was in deep shit, and I guess that's at least part of why she left so suddenly only a couple years later.
E. and I went back like three days later and we found another tape. This one was labeled "Soundtrack to a Night of Peaceful Dreams". It had a lot of Sinatra in it, which I thought was nice, but not really a guy you fall asleep to. The recording quality was the same, though, which gave the songs a distant quality, kind of nostalgic, and that felt different. Again there were also "silent tracks", and again you heard moving and shuffling, and in one you could hear a dog barking. By now we were getting a little bored of the whole thing an decided we'd leave one more tape.
Anonymous
Anonymous
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 10 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 04:33:00 No. 7761504 Report >>7761460 We kind of wondered what would happen if we left something of our own creation for our correspondent to enjoy. Not that E. or I knew how to play instruments. We just imagined we would leave a small greeting or something. But we had nothing to record stuff with, it was still all at F.'s place at the time, he had needed it once he started hearing that shit in D.'s garden, but that's another thing, anyway. So I looked and finally came across an old tape which is a combination of songs my Dad liked in the eighties and recorded on tape, and, on side two, me, as a young kid, reading out some story. I guess he thought it would be cute and then forgot all about it or something. So we decided we would leave this, with the label "Something different", and we drove there.
It was nighttime on this occasion, in fact Miranda was almost closing down for the day, and we sneaked into the bathroom. The lights were off, E. tried them several times but apparently they weren't working, so we had to grope around in the dark to find the canister. E. removed it carefully and I felt my way around, left the tape, and we got out of there quickly.
Now that I think about it, I think I saw that girl, the one who caught us in the act last time, the one with glasses, browsing one of the aisles close to the bathroom as we walked out. I looked at her but I don't think she saw us, or pretended not to. We just left. The next morning we would return to find the final message from our mysterious correspondent.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 11 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 04:38:00 No. 7761524 Report >>7761504 The last time we visited Miranda for our cassette exchange was on a school day, which we also decided to skip. This had become an alarming habit of ours at the time and our friends had started to wonder about what we were doing. I guess we got a little obsessed with the whole thing, even though we didn't realize it.
We walked in, Miranda had only been open for an hour or so, the cashiers looked at us expectantly. We just went right past them and into the ladies' room, which must have looked weird. We opened the door and went right for the canister, but not before checking the stalls to make sure there was no one else in there, just in case.
E. wanted to do the honors for this one--we had already decided that we wouldn't continue with the exchange anymore--, and so she grabbed the canister by both sides and lifted it up, and out came this wave of insects.
The hole in the wall was just crawling with spiders and bugs and a few cockroaches. A bunch of them fell onto the floor, along with a cassette, and there were dozens more of them squirming around inside. E. and I both had to grab on to each other to avoid screaming. We took three giant steps back, E. still holding on to the canister. I whisper-yelled at her that we should just get the fuck out. She stared at the cassette, and, after arming herself with courage for a few seconds, grabbed it and we ran out, not even bothering to put the canister back in its place.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 13 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 04:42:00 No. 7761546 Report >>7761524 On our way out the other people looked at us weird, probably because they had heard sounds coming from the bathroom, we didn't even bother to act like we cared and speed-walked straight out of that place, into my dad's car, and back home. E. was grabbing the cassette by its edges, covering her hands with her sweater sleeves. I started to wondering how the hell had that hole filled up with vermin practically overnight, although now that I think about it there are several possible explanations for that. She struggled to read the label on the tape. Frankly it is practically illegible, so to this day, we're not sure of what it says, but our best guess is:
"Soundtrack for a Cancer Cell as it is Born in the Center of Your Brain"
For a few moments we were silent. Then I joked that she must not have liked our last tape. E. asked if she should play it. I said no, it had been covered in bugs, after all, although in reality I didn't want to hear it anyway, the label had given me a bit of a chill.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 2: "Miranda Cassette Exchange", Pt. 14 [END] Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 04:47:00 No. 7761580 Report >>7761546 That was the end of the Miranda cassette exchange. We never went back in that bathroom to check if someone was still leaving new tapes in the hole. According to A.'s brother, who stopped by that supermarket for entirely unrelated reasons some days later, both bathrooms had been closed for sanitary reasons, and apparently the whole place was due for fumigation soon. So I'm not sure of what became of that.
If you're wondering about the three tapes we got out of the exchange, well, sometimes I play the first one, the one about preparing for a challenge. I kind of figured I would play it while studying for exams, I tried it out during midterms a couple years later. It's kinda nice! Or at least I think so. Helps you get in the zone. I ended up giving the second tape to a friend who had trouble sleeping, without telling her about its origins. She said it helped a lot, weird as it was.
I personally never listened to the third and final tape. E. took it home on that day. Many weeks later, after we had put the whole thing behind us, I happened to ask her if she ever worked up the courage to listen to it. She said yes. She said it was just "thirty minutes of noise", and that it "kind of sounded like being inside a sewer".
She took the tape with her when she left.
---END---
Anonymous
Again may I suggest using their first names? The letters are kind of confusing. It's not like your giving anything away by using their real names.
Anonymous
It does not even have to be real named. Just some female names for the femaled and some male names forvthe males. I don't know why but letters get confusing after a while.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
>>7761583 I guess I could use the names, but at this point I've been using initials for quite some time, so I figure that just changing them now would be confusing. But I suppose I'll do it eventually if people feel that they would rather read the stories that way.
As for my considerations of "Miranda Cassette Exchange", there is a Miranda in the location specified, although I don't know if was fumigated on that year for any reason. I haven't heard any rumors about the bathrooms, other that they're used for sexual encounters, although that goes for practically every public bathroom in this city.
The options now are:
A.) The Children of District 11
B.) Interview with J.
Anonymous
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>>7761615 Yeah. You can get weird with it too. Call one of them Apple and another Discourse or some shit.
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Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
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A it is.
Anonymous
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Little brother, thank you very much for transcribing all of this. If nothing else this is very interesting reading! Kinda has an Eerie Indiana feel to it. Keep up the good work!
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 5: "The Children of District 11", Pt. 1 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 05:09:00 No. 7761752 Report This is just a small incident that occurred to me a few days ago. I'm not sure if it merits being written into the notebooks, but I figure some of you will get a kick out of it.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 5: "The Children of District 11", Pt. 2 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 05:14:00 No. 7761798 Report >>7761752 The parcel that Dad gave me was a small box wrapped in newspaper and tied with a string. I didn't see what it was, it didn't seem interesting at the time. It wasn't heavy and something inside it moved around when I shifted its weight, I think it might have been a toy or something. Maybe a present.
The house where I had to leave this package was your typical suburban home in an affluent neighborhood; nice, clean, a bit boring. It was in front of a park, though I couldn't see much else because of the fog. I was also pretty cold and wanted to get back home as soon as possible. I rang the doorbell like three times before someone answered.
That someone was a child, he couldn't have been older than ten, he was this skinny, blonde kid who rubbed his eyes periodically, like he hadn't slept. I didn't get a good look into the house because he only opened the door enough for his face to peer out, but I heard the TV on inside, I think he was playing some video game. It was a school day, mind you, so it was weird that he was home.
I asked him if his parents were home. He vehemently shook his head. He said, "This isn't my house, I'm just using it". That admittedly struck me as weird. I figured maybe he was a friend of the kid who lived here. I asked him if anyone who did live here was home. He looked at me as if I had asked him something nonsensical. We stared at each other for like a minute. Then he shut the door and I heard him calling someone's name inside.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 5: "The Children of District 11", Pt. 3 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 05:19:00 No. 7761841 Report >>7761798 I stood there like an idiot for what must have been five minutes. I heard dogs barking in the distance and what must have been children playing in the park, but again, it was hard to tell with the fog. Eventually the door opened again. It was another child, this one had dark hair, he looked a bit like A., actually, though that's not important. He also kept rubbing his eyes like he hadn't gotten any sleep.
He asked me what I was here for. I asked him if he lived here. He looked like he was considering lying to me, but finally nodded. I said that I was sent here by my Mr. [____], my Dad, to deliver a package, and if his parents were in. To this he shook his head emphatically. He looked interested in what was in the box, which I was holding behind me.
I was getting a little exasperated with the whole thing, I just wanted to go back home. The district, with its fog and lack of people and apparently sleepless children, was starting to annoy me a bit. So I asked him when his parents would be home, and he said he didn't know, but "probably not today". I gave him a quizzical look. He just kept staring as if everything were normal. So I said, fine, look, I'm supposed to deliver this package here (I double-checked the address at this point to make sure I hadn't gotten the wrong house), so just take it and give it to your parents when they get home.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 5: "The Children of District 11", Pt. 4 Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 05:23:00 No. 7761873 Report >>7761841 He nodded, as if finally understanding what I was doing here, and reached out his arms. I considered withholding the parcel and coming back tomorrow, or later, but the notion didn't appeal to me much. So I reached closer to the door (the kid kept the door only half-open, staying inside the house) in order to hand it over to him. At this point I got a look inside the house.
I was looking into what appeared to be the living room. It was full of kids, there were about a dozen of them. They were all sitting around, watching television, but the second I stuck my head in they all turned around to look at me. It kind of felt like when you look at a pack of stray dogs as they're in the middle of eating some dead cat, and they stop to look at you, to make sure you're not going to interfere, and then as soon as you divert your eyes they get right back to business. That's what it felt like. All these kids were fixated on me, including the one who had opened the door the first time. And the TV? It wasn't playing anything. Just static. The jingles and music I had heard was coming from somewhere else in the house.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Exc. from Notebook 5: "The Children of District 11", Pt. 5 [END] Little Brother !9QxUabtomc Wed 25 May 2011 05:27:00 No. 7761899 Report >>7761873 I stared at the children and they stared back at me for what felt like whole minutes but was probably just a few seconds. I felt a chill run down my spine for some reason. I handed the kid the package. He shut the door. I started walking, half-jogging away from the house. Inside I heard the indistinct yelling and cheering of different kids.
During the bus ride back I replayed the whole incident in my head, and kind of regretted not looking to see what was inside the package, or withholding it and coming back later, when there were adults, if there are ever adults inside that house. When I came home Dad asked me if everything went well and I nodded. He gave me a look, like he was expecting me to say something else, but I just went back into my room and listened to music. I couldn't get the image of the children out of my mind, it was like something out of a storybook.
And well, that's all. I did ask Dad yesterday about what the package was, and about who lived there, and he said it was just "a present for a friend". I didn't inquire further. You have the address of the house, so you can go there if you want, but, I don't know. I wouldn't advise it. At least not when there's all that fog.
---END---
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Quoted By:
>>7761899 And that's all there is. I don't have much to say about this story. However, I do know that F. dropped out of university around 2004, as it was a matter of discussion among my brother and his friends at the time, so I think he wrote this story. District 11 is indeed known for its dense fog, which rolls in on winter mornings.
Little Brother !9QxUabtomc
Well then, that's all I can post tonight. As always, thank you for reading. I'll be around for a few more minutes to answer any questions and then I'll have to leave. As per usual, you can read everything in the blog, which I will update with these entries soon.
Anonymous
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>>7761910 Thank you for posting, Little Brother. I've said that a ton already, but this is really interesting. Thank you for continuing to give us more.
Anonymous
There is one aspect about these stories that make them both interesting and frustrating to me, and that is that there is never a conclusion. This does give me the desire to keep reading them though. So I shall say well played Little Brother, well played.
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Anonymous
bump. mustn't let this die!
Anonymous
>>7761999 exactly. i love them, and i'm always left wanting more. that ambiguity makes it all the more realistic. somehow, they know just enough to say
Yellow Arrow
>>7762279 This.
Also. If I had any talent I would draw comics of all of these stories.
Anonymous
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>>7762347 No that would make them suck.
Anonymous
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>>7762208 you do realize it's been archived
