The Road Back

Okay. I'm staying at a motel outside Rockford. The winds hammered at my car, the spirits called out to me all while I was driving. I made the foolish mistake of leaving my window down. One of the spirits, the... Inhalants... tried to suck all the air out of the car. I rolled up the windshield and tried to run the bastard over. It dissipated into mist and reformed into a spirit, wandering in the fog. The fog is clear for now. Hopefully it'll stay that way until I find a way out of this. I have to find a way out of this.

I'm Leaving Chicago

Okay. It's been... yeah, days. I haven't had a wink of sleep. I've been fearing for my life. I've been fearing those fucking things, those shadows in the fog. The... what did that site call it, The Mistral. The shadows and apparitions appear, the wind picks up. I dare not try to open my door or my windows when they appear. The spirits rap on the door, calling out with many voices. The people whose lives I have touched for the worse, not the better. It even calls out in the voices of Moreau and the other actors, the crewman with the broken leg, Victor... even my wife and children. I try covering my ears but their cries prevail even over the wind. I can see the apparitions move on when they see I will not open the door. I read an article on the internet. Director Xander died in an underused road on the outskirts of Oklahoma City. He was found suffocated shortly after a tornado hit the area.

I wasn't its only victim on that set. I have to go. I have to go back to Los Angeles. I need to see my wife and children. They're okay. At least... I hope that they're okay.

The Mistral

Okay, the faceless guy is gone again. But he stood out there for a while. And I think he was talking to me... it said.

Look for the Woman in the Wind.

I thought to myself, 'Why is he saying this?' And he replied...

We have a common enemy.

And with that, the faceless man in a suit left me behind with more questions than answers. I looked up the Woman in the Wind and found a website known as "The Archive." I scanned it and it had a list of strange supernatural entities. They were called PREs and Fears, mainly. I typed in "Woman in the Wind", and recieved my answer. Only three articles were found with those words. I looked at the top article, titled PRE29: "Mistral".

This is what it said:

Designation: PRE29

Colloquial Terms: The Woman in the Wind, the Dark Wind, Zephyrym, the Mistral, Mother Nature.

Physical Description: PRE29 is often signified as either an unseen burst of wind or a large cloud of mist inhabited by lost souls. Often some lost souls use the victim's memory in order to change into another being.

Behavioral Characeristics: PRE29 appears to people who have recieved great power and did little in return, usually ruining other lives in the process of obtaining power and wealth.

(Ooohhh fuck)

PRE29 usually begins as a series of whispers, voices, usually accusatory. Sometimes, if minimal damage to other lives had been committed and the victim had done a few good deeds in return, it instead takes on the voice of a woman's laughter. Then PRE29 causes mishaps that whittle away and slowly ruin the victim's life. Victims of PRE29 are usually left, defenseless and without anything left to their name before they are killed. The usual final act of PRE29 onto her victims is a great windstorm, sometimes a tornado, sometimes a hurricane, that slowly suffocates the victim until he or she is no more.

Servants of PRE29 are the Inhalants, the spirits that walk within the mist, and sometimes they are allowed freedom from the mist in the form of a human being. PRE29's domain is Olympus, also known as the Castle of Clouds.

NOTE: It is imperative to know that for many years PRE25 through PRE35 are presumed imprisoned in a world known as the Singularity Cell. Of these, only four others are mentioned, all of which are, as well as the Mistral, slowly returning to the world today. However, articles for PRE30-PRE35, as well as PRE articles PRE36 beyond and the UFE1-UFE8 articles are still classified under orders from Grandfather. For these unclassified articles, see the PRE25: "Brute", PRE26: "Burning Bride", PRE27: "Lord of Chains", or PRE28: "Unbounded Face" arcticles.

So I'm apparently being stalked by one of these... PREs, who is after me because I've recieved power and did little in return. I will try to be a better person, but I believe that once one of thes PREs, or Fears (I prefer the term Fear better actually) catch the scent of their next victim, they don't get redemption. But I was still curious, what in hell is that... faceless man who has been stalking me as well? I looked up "faceless man" and recieved only one arcticle. It said PRE01: "Slender Man". I read the arcticle. His physical characteristics exactly match.

Oh shit.

Well, at least the wind's stopped for now. I'm gonna go try to sleep.

Good night... I hope.

The Misty Man

Okay, I've been looking up wikipedia about the winds. And my suspicions were confirmed. Winds do not suddenly spike from less than 5 mph to 65 mph in the snap of ones fingers. Anyways, earlier today was horrible. I was on the phone with Director Xander (he, by the way, is somewhere in Iowa by now) when I heard a knock on the door, and a voice.

"Joooohnnyyyyy..." I thought I recognized the voice. I looked outside. There was a powerful mist coming in. I thought I could see faint shapes of people moving in the mist. I opened the door and there was Vincent Bering. I remember that he was the executive producer before I became it. He was fired by an accident involving he and I. His wife left him and took his children. I didn't know what happened to him. Then I saw the wound in his chest. "Hi there, Johnny. It's been so long." I noted the distorted scratch in his voice. I tried to close it but a gust of wind kept it open. He then opened his mouth. Wider and wider. I watched in horror as his gaping mouth covered his entire face and began inhaling. I couldn't breathe. I was lost in the cyclone of his inhalation. I tried to shut the door, and after nearly dying, succeeded. He pounded on the door. "Jooooohnnnnnyyyyyyyyyyyyy..." Then, I saw him move past the windows. I hid and watched as he turned from a tangible human shape into some... misty apparition and it floated off into the mist.

I don't know what the fuck is going on but I'm gonna get off now, there's someone walking by the window and I'm going to chADKJADSDUHASDASHUDAS it's the faceless guy! I got to go! D:

Help Me

the laughing got worse again. the wind is mocking me.

and i saw him again. the man in suit... i looked up.

he had no face

i'm really terrified now. he seems to follow me everywhere i go.

another accident happened too. our beautiful actress... michelle botham... she was hit by the wind. she was thrown... into a gate. the gate... iron tipped spikes. lost both eyes. screaming... screaming... screaming...

director both horrified and fuming. director said "i don't know what the fuck is going on here, but i'm out." movie... ruined. i tried to find douglas. douglas hart... had to warn him. i went into his trailer. too late... too late. he was dead... sprawled... on floor... in window... i saw it.

I SAW IT. THE MAN WITH NO FACE.

how can things go from great to bad in less than a month??? how can that even happen? michelle is here now. she's got bandages where her eyes were. she's crying tearless sobs. poor girl. her life ruined. my life ruined.

the wind is laughing again. the wind is mocking me.

i'm going to find the apartment the director xander was at. i've got to talk to him.

Sorry About Yesterday

Just... Jesus. I'm sorry about how... crazy I must have seemed yesterday. I've been drinking a little... okay, more than a little (yet my experience with up-all-night writing allows me to be drowning in alcohol and still type without error) This has just got me on edge. Michael Moreau was a true legend when it came to action movies (he was even the dashing spy Agent Jones in the action trilogy "Singled Out", "Double or Nothing", and "Triple Dog Dare") and his death came as a surprise to us all. His funeral will be on the 21st of August. The laughing has died down a little, but I can still hear the occasional chuckle. I hate that laugh now. I'd rather cut off my ears than to listen to it. But I'm not gonna cut off my ears or anything.

While I was walking down the street, I noticed a man following me... or at least I think he was following me. He was a very tall, pale guy. I didn't get a chance to look at his face, but I could swear that everywhere I went that grey suited tall person was following me. I ate at a very lovely cafe, but I didn't eat much. My nerves are on end, but I can't quit now. I'll have to recast.
The show must go on.

Hopefully without accident.

THE WIND

I- I know who it is... it's the wind! Yes, the wind is doing it... the voices, the singing, the accident, it was the wind's fault for everything... it mocks me. It- it mocks me with its voice. It takes delight in taking my movie and shoving it into a deeper hole. Another accident happened. This one was bad. Very very bad. ...there was a metal pole one of the extras who plays as a bad guy was supposed to wield. The wind picked up again, and Mike was in his car having a smoke. The wind picked up again, and it's invisible arms picked up the pipe and threw it through the windshield...

Mike Moreau was impaled through the chest.

The wind is killing people. The wind is targeting me. I can hear it now. I can hear it now...

The wind is laughing.

The wind is laughing...

The wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing the wind is laughing...

Update #2

The shooting is going quickly. We're all the way up to scene 11 right now. Mike Moreau and the others have been really helpful in getting this going. The director, Gabriel Xander, however, has not been so helpful. He tries botching what's supposed to be a simple noir story with the art styles of foreign pictures (I could actually recognise some of his ideas for the scenes as being straight out of Eraserhead. ERASERHEAD. Have you even SEEN that movie? It's supposed to be deep and meaningful, but for God's sake it's just disturbing.)

The wind keeps coming in brief gusts. I still hear the laughing. The laughter changed, though... to someone singing. It was again feminine, but... but it sounded weird... distorted and scratchy. I could barely register it over the wind.

Then... this happened. I was busy having a sit down with Xander in a cafe across from where we were shooting (it's a somewhat intense fight scene taking place in an outdoor parking lot) when the wind roared and picked up intensely. Over it, I could hear the growing sound of the strange singing, sometimes a strange laugh accompanying it. The wind kept picking up and one of the people working the camera on the roof was thrown by this wind. I'm not kidding, he was in the middle, setting up the camera, when suddenly he and the camera get tossed like ragdolls 5 feet foward and 2 stories down. The camera was broken, but that's not the important thing. The cameraman clutched his knee and groaned in pain. The knee was broken and the bone was sticking out. He was taken to the Emergency Room.

Well, shit. The cameraman says he won't press charges or sue, but he asks for workers compensation. Fair enough, I think. I mean, it was a freak accident but it did happen on the job.

Anyways, the singing died down, but the laughter is still there.

The laughter seems to be mocking me.

Okay...

Well, the shooting did very well. In some cases we only needed to go as far as three takes before the director approved of it. Mike Moreau is feeling winded today. He says he needs to lie down.

I keep hearing the laughing. Oh Christ, either I'm crazy or the cast is pulling a prank. In which case, knock it off, you guys. IT. ISN'T. FUNNY.

Anyways, the wind has really started picking up now. I can hear the whistle of the wind. Damn.

Anyways, I'm going to have to inside for a second. Every time I go outside, I hear someone laughing at me.

Well, stay tuned for more...

Update #1

The first shooting went pretty well. The actor, Michael Moreau, who plays Detective William Slate, did an excellent job. He's the hardboiled actor of today. The other actors in the scene (Douglas Hart playing the ever so helpful Doctor Andrews and the always lovely Michelle Botham playing the repentant gunmoll Fiona Malini) also performed beyond expectations.

We only needed to do one take, and everything went pretty well. I also now realise why Chicago is called the Windy City. The wind picked up a bit.

Something weird did happen, though. I heard a strange giggle. I couldn't pin just where it came from, and for the life of me, I could swear it sounded feminine. I asked the cast and crew if they heard a giggle, but none of them heard a thing. Strange. Must be my imagination or something. The wind keeps picking up.

I'm gonna stop blogging for now, but stay tuned. The filming's going great and nothing seems to be going wrong.

Hello, World!

I'm starting up this blog to introduce myself and to give updates on my project. The name is Johnny Benson. It was Johann Schtern, but that's another story for another day. I worked my way up in LA. I used to just move the props around when ordered to, but then I got it big. I wrote a script and a producer loved it. He gave me a large retainer and a contract for creating the movie. I was surprised. I worked my way up to senior executive scriptwriter, which meant I'm the guy who writes the base plot while the other guys put in the juicy filling. Then I finally worked my way up to the big leagues- producer! I have a wife and two beautiful children, I live in a modest neighborhood, and my movies have made a large net profit.

Anyways, enough about me. I'm in Nowheresville, Illinois, somewhere between the major cities of Chicago and Rockford... wait, they're at opposite ends of the state, aren't they? Well, I'm closer to Chicago, about to bring back the noir genre! I've been taken along to oversee the shooting of The Bitten Bullet, a story of romance, bootlegging and hardboiled action.

Anyways, I have to go now. I have to oversee the shooting of the first scene.

Stay tuned for more.