File 10

Sylvia came to today. She blinked, looked around, saw her bandaged her hands, her attire, and stared directly at me for about two minutes. And she screamed. She screamed loudly. I had to cover my ears to prevent Sylvia from making me go deaf now. She tried to get up off the bed, but she fell and landed on her face on the floor. Thank God I got a carpeted room.

Mistress burst into the room. “What the hell is going on in here?!” She yelled, which caused Sylvia to scream again. I couldn’t help but glare at her. “Woops.” She chuckled sheepishly and slammed the door, which caused Sylvia to scream again, making me wonder if she was trying to make her scream or not.

I got down on the floor. “Hey, hey, hey.” I said quietly and smiled at her. “There’s nothing to be afraid of here. Do you remember me? I’m Daniel.” I waited for a response.

“Dan…...iel?” Sylvia cocked her head in question. I was beginning to question whether she had memory loss or not. My smile was no longer genuine.

“Yes. I’m Daniel. Your partner. Do you remember me?” I asked. She stared at me for a moment, then stood up, shakily. I stood up with her. She stumbled over to the coat rack, I stayed close to catch her if she fell. She took my Trilby off the coat rack and set it on my head. After another ten seconds of staring, she smiled and fell into my arms.

“You do remember me? Good. Now, how much else do you remember?” She shrugged. I started listing things off, like Mistress and the Tower, and the mission, and everything. It took about two hours or so, but I finally got her memory back. It wasn’t gone, just…..locked away, essentially.

“Alright, how about some music?” I asked her. She nodded. I turned on the radio on my nightstand, and Macklemore’s “Can’t Hold Us” started blaring out of the speakers. I like my music loud when I’m writing and things.

Sylvia instantly curled up into a ball and began rocking back and forth, muttering something under her breath. I turned off the music and moved over on the bed to where she was rocking back and forth. She was singing.

I told you ‘bout the walrus and me, man

You know that we’re as close as can be, man

Well here’s another clue for you all

The walrus was Paul

Standing on the cast iron shore, yeah

Lady Madonna tryin’ to make ends meet, yeah

Looking through a glass onion

This disturbed me. Glass Onion is my favorite Beatles song, but I had never informed Sylvia of that. The Archangel would have no idea about it either. So why Glass Onion? WHY GLASS ONION. Is it because of a corpse? Did he play it over and over and over to Sylvia to make her think she was going to die?! I hate the Archangel. I HATE HIM. HATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE. Sorry, lost control of myself…though I can’t bring myself to delete that. Oh, either way.

So afterwards I went and spoke with Mistress about the matter. She told me to bring Sylvia into her room. I did as she asked. When we got there, Mistress turned on a CD player. To Glass Onion. She wanted to see what would happen.

Sylvia screamed loudly, and collapsed on the ground sobbing, crying, grabbing my pantlegs. I sat down next to her and took her into my arms, glaring at Mistress. She turned off the CD player and sighed. She had another idea. She turned it to “Back in the USSR” making it obvious she had the White Album in. That one made Sylvia cry again, so she wanted to replace that with Let It Be or HELP and see what would happen. “She’s scared of Macklemore, so I think it’s music that scares.” I piped up before she turned it to “One After 909.”

“Macklemore’s pretty creepy in his own right.” Mistress said.

“Point taken.” I replied.

“Either way, she won’t be fit for duty for a long time.” Mistress went on. “You’ll have to do without her for probably the rest of the observation.”

“I can’t drive, though. Surely you’re not expecting me to walk everywhere.” I said, getting nervous.

“Of course not! What, do I look like some kind of cruel dominatrix that makes her servants suffer daily?” I had to hold my tongue on that one. “I’ve called in a replacement.”

She stepped in the room. She was beautiful. Shoulder-length black hair, glasses. She was tall, kinda of flat, but nice and slender. “My name is Elise. I am a Grayskin. I am nineteen years old. The Choir has put me under your care, Master Thompson.” She spoke with a wonderful British accent, it sounded like she was from Cornwall but I might be wrong on that.

“I trust she’s satisfactory?” Mistress asked.

“More than.” I couldn’t stop grinning. “Mistress, I want to hug you so badly right now.”

“Don’t push your luck, kid.” Mistress glared at me. I hate being called kid. “Now, take Sylvia back to her room and go and get me some more information. Shoo!” She shooed us away, me picking up Sylvia and taking her to her room.

Afterwards, we went out to the car lot, where all us servants keep our cars. Rather than going to my tan 2006 Sedan, we went to her car. A black and red 1967 Chevrolet. Oh my god it’s a sexy car. “So where to?” Elise smiled at me as we got in. She was being so cute holy shit.

“We should look for the Blind Man.” I replied. She shivered.

“He has already taken my childhood.” Elise sighed.

I shrugged. “Then he’s no threat for you. Now, let’s go. I’d like to get to wherever we’re staying for the night by Dusk.”

We drove through the Empty City until we found the door that had “Catacombs.” Written over it. Fortunately, it was a Garage Door, so we could drive through. We ended up driving through a narrow alley-sized passageway underground. We ended running over about 50 Bone Spiders and maybe an Archivist.

Then we were face-to-face with the Blind Man. He looked at us with his book, his sunglasses obscuring his lack of eyes. “Welcome, my children, how may I help you?”

“Hello, Father Tiresias.” I replied, using his Rapture Name, as “Mr. Blind Man” just sounds weird. He didn’t looked bothered by it so I continued. “I am-”

“Daniel Thompson. Fifteen years old. Servant of the Wooden Girl. On an observation mission. His favorite weapon is a Combat Knife and Flamethrower. He likes girls with large breasts and nice legs. His fetishes are-”

“Ehehe, that’s enough, Father.” I glanced around nervously at the circling Archivists. “But yes, I am here for that purpose.”

“Very well.” Tiresias nodded. “You may observe me. But if you so much as touch a single book around here, your childhood, no, your whole memory, is mine. Understand?” He stared at me sternly. I nodded. “Good.” He returned to his normal business.

File 10: The Blind Man

Alternate Names: Father Tiresias, PRE04, Fossil-Type CREMATOR, Subject Bravo Mike, The Freemason of Forgetfulness, The Unseer, The Recorder

Attitude Towards Humans: Passive

Control Over: Books, Writing, Memory

He’s old, he’s gray, he’s knowledgeable. He’s the Blind Man. He has no eyes, but can see more than anyone. He knows everything about you. Who you are, what you like and hate, who you love and loathe, your deepest desires and darkest secrets. Nothing is hidden from him. If he doesn’t like you, he may come and steal your childhood. Your most precious, from the time of your birth to the time of your twelfth birthday. If really dislikes you, he may take it all, leaving you completely amnesiac. Sometimes, he may take a day from your memory if you saw something you weren’t supposed to. He will appear in a tattered cloak, often with a robe as well. Sunglasses are common on him, as well as blindfolds, as you don’t want to see what’s under them. Some have reported empty sockets, others have reported just skin over where his eyes should be. Some even say they’re holes into nothing, and that’s where your forgotten memories. He sees them. You can’t hide a thing from him. And that’s why he’s so terrifying. He’s worthy of the name Fear, more than others.

Afterwards, I thanked him, and in that massive expanse of library, we turned around, and headed back through the Catacombs, ending the life of several more Bone Spiders. We got back to the Screaming Tower. Sylvia’s in her room, and Elise is……..sleeping with me. Ooh. I’m gonna get some sleep now. Goodnight everyone.

~Thompson out.