Blog post #1: Welcome to The Damned Scribe

Welcome to The Damned Scribe

Ah, dear reader, you have finally come. You see, I have been waiting for you. Don’t be alarmed. It won’t help. I have plucked the spider webs of fate for a time, easing your passage towards this place. Perhaps you have seen my reflection in the mirror along with yours. Awoken to my presence in the middle of the night. Heard my voice calling your name in the darkness. Seen a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, a fleeting shape gone upon focusing, a momentary forgetfulness as we lock eyes and a smile crawls across my face, undone as your consciousness denies that I could be real.

But now you’re here. You were always meant to be here.

What is this place?

Imagine, dear Reader, your screen flickering as shadows crawl across your room, whispering secrets you’re not supposed to hear. The light from your monitor dims, casting long, twisted shadows on the walls. The temperature drops, and the air grows heavy with an unseen presence. Your heart races as a chill creeps down your spine, each beat louder in the oppressive silence.

You sit alone, but are you truly alone? Can you feel the eyes watching from the corners, just beyond the reach of the light? The whispers grow louder, more insistent, like a thousand voices murmuring just out of comprehension. They speak of forgotten horrors, of ancient evils lurking in the spaces between reality and nightmare.

Welcome to my humble abode. This is not a place of comfort or safety. It is a realm where sanity and madness blur, where the walls bleed secrets and the very air hums with a sinister energy. Here, truth is a double-edged sword, cutting deep into the fabric of your understanding, revealing the raw, pulsing heart of reality.

Look around. The room you occupy has changed. The familiar is now distorted, twisted into a grotesque mockery of itself. The screen before you, once a portal to knowledge and connection, is now a gateway to the unknown. The shadows dance and writhe, forming shapes that should not exist, creatures that defy logic and reason.

This is a place of horror and madness. A place where the boundaries of reality are thin, where nightmares seep through the cracks and take shape in the darkness. Here, the truth is not a comfort. It is a terror, a force that shatters illusions and strips away the comforting lies we tell ourselves.

As you delve deeper into this blog, you will find tales that challenge your perception, stories that peel back the layers of the mundane to reveal the monstrous truths lurking beneath. You will encounter beings from other realities, entities that defy comprehension and test the limits of your sanity.

But remember, dear Reader, that this is not just a place of despair. Within the horror lies a beacon of clarity, a path through the darkness that leads to a deeper understanding. The truths uncovered here are not meant to break you, but to free you from the chains of ignorance and delusion.

So, embrace the shadows. Let the whispers guide you. Open your mind to the unimaginable, and let the horror reveal the truth.

Welcome to The Damned Scribe. Welcome to Reality Through Fiction.

Settle in. It’s going to be a hell of a ride.

The World as you Knew it

What if I told you the world you see is not the world that is? That your eyes, with their millions of years of evolutionary sophistication, see only part of the picture. Your ears, a mere sample of the vibrations passing through your body. Your favorite food on your tongue, a lover’s caress on your skin—every sense and sensation—a ripple of reality and no more.

The shadow grows longer still. Are you still listening to my words? Do you have the fortitude, or will you prove to be one of the weak, one of the masses, those without the capacity for truth? Is that you? To shiver at the sight of reality as it comes into vision? To retreat and hide within yourself, comforted by the lies they tell you? The lies you tell yourself?

Or are you still reading? Ready to confront that which has been known to shatter a man. Break him down to his core. Cause him to plead for death itself.

Still here? Ah, yes, one of the chosen then. Allow me to continue.

What if I told you everything you have ever experienced, even this moment, was constructed? Made up? A fabrication of the jelly between your eyes based on little more than electrical inputs and outputs. Yes, even these words, even those doubts stirring from the back and traversing into the forefront of your mind. How your sight receives them. How they make you feel. All of it, illusion.

You would call me mad.

Perhaps.

You would call me insane.

Certainly.

You would say you know what is, for you have lived it. You would claim the validity of memory. The lessons of experience. And yet for all your certainty, all your confidence, and all the security these feelings offer you, you would be wrong.

Decisively wrong.

What is reality but a fabrication of signals in your mind? What is sight other than the brain’s interpretation of radiation? Sound, a measure of harmonic waves. Emotion, a rudimentary intelligence of times past, subject to manipulation and alteration?

Reality is a construct of your brain, crafted from your senses. A lie you have to believe in.

And what if I told you this lie is both true and false simultaneously, without negating the validity of the other?

And finally… What if I told you there are those out there, chosen like you, willing to brave the unknown for power. The power to alter these perceptions, YOUR perceptions. Who can change them to fit their will. Who can choose what you see, how you think, what you feel. Without you knowing. Without your consent.

Oh dear reader, do not fret. I will tell you none of these things.

I’m going to show you.

Is all hope lost?

The future is not certain. Not set in the proverbial stone. This place is haunted, yes, but by worse than demons, ghosts, and fiends.

This place is haunted by truth.

There can be no greater reckoning than what is.

There can be no greater terror than the world unobfuscated.

There can be no greater hope than clarity.

For without the ability to see, without the truth to guide us, we are all doomed, and we march happily to the pyre, comforted by our own lies.

But this place, my home, my refuge, does not offer shelter. It does not seek to bleed your brain of dopamine and serotonin. It does not speak of happiness, for the idea of happiness is, in itself, yet another lie.

No, this place, this dream from far away, seeks clarity. Illumination.

Should it rise, it will be on the merit of what is. Should it fall, it will be consumed by the darkness of delusion in this world, the deepest shadow I have encountered in my travels since winning my freedom.

For this is not the first reality I have visited.

This will not be the last reality I visit.

We face a great threat that mankind has known since mankind has known. We face great beasts of the mind. We face men and women who use their power. We face the forces of entropy itself. And we face ourselves.

This will shape what this place becomes.

Truth shall shape these pages.

You shall shape these pages.

These words, these thoughts that I send into your mind through your senses… they are a war call.

You see, you, DEAR READER, are under attack. YOU, DEAR READER, are the PRIZE. YOU, DEAR READER, are the tool by which you will either damn yourself by the will of another or free yourself from the captivity of the oppressor you never knew existed.

There are monsters in this place. They claim to save you from the harsh realities of the world. There are people who use them to use you, for these demons are intrinsic. They are within us all. They fester within.

And you don’t even see it.

And this SHATTERS me.

Ah, and so this place shapes itself, as it has in the past, in the other realities I have visited. This place will serve as a home.

Come here, rest, be entertained. Belong.

I shall enthrall you with tales from realities adjacent to your own. I shall craft short stories, novellas, tomes from my memories.

I’ll tell you the truth.

But I’m going to have to lie to you to do it.

Welcome, dear Reader—no… dear SEEKER…

To Reality Through Fiction.

Welcome to TheDamnedScribe.com