6-14-2018

Starting in the middle is harder than I thought it would be.   Trying to remember the past few days is difficult for me.  I don’t have much of a memory which is why I am blogging now.

Before I continue, I think I should provide a little detail about my underground system.  It’s an “end of the world” bunker in a way.  Not the common “prepper” bunker but a torture bunker, resulting in ending “their” world.  We are about 13 feet underground in a couple of Zircons.  The main room is 40′ long x 8′ wide and 8’6″ high.  There are 2 separate rooms which are the cells where I keep my guests, they are about 7′ x 7′ x 7′.  There isn’t running water but I do have electricity thanks to an extension cord.  The access to the facility is underneath my shed, which looks like a normal yard shed.

Oh, I have an autopsy table, which is a real autopsy table.  I picked it up at an auction in Texas a few years ago.  I have been planning these events for a while now.  I had to modify it a little because I use a bucket for the drainage, but that’s the only change.  I have other tools that are in storage.  If you stick around long enough, I’ll bring them out.

Should we continue with Blue’s story?  (Read Day 1 Here)

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6-13-2018

This morning I opened the door, turned the lights on and walked straight to my desk.  I haven’t said a word yet, and to my surprise neither has Blue.  Although he is just laying there staring at me while I type.  It’s rather creepy having them stare at me, yet it hasn’t bothered me to stare at them.

This might be a good time to bring you up to date on why Blue is here.  Blue is the prime suspect in sending a young woman to the ER.  She was beaten so bad, that the doctors had to induce a coma.  As of today, the 13th she is…


Do I get breakfast? –  Hey, I’m talking to you, asshole. 


Oh dang, I was hoping he would be polite.  Kinda fitting he would interrupt me right as I was about to say… she is still alive and the doctors are hopeful.

When Blue made his comment I looked up over my screen to see that he didn’t even stand up to ask about breakfast.  He is just laying there, staring at the ceiling like he doesn’t even care.  I guess if he doesn’t care then I don’t care.  Maybe I should move him into the other cell, the one without a bed.

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The one I call Blue

Hello, Today is June 12th, 2018.  I am still getting used to running a blog and I am not sure how much I really want to talk about.  I recently read something from a couple of great minds, or at least I thought one of them was.   This first thing is if you want to write, “Start with 200 crappy words a day”.  The second thing comes from someone I used to admire until he committed suicide.  “Write like no one is reading.”  So here we go.

Well before we get too far, let me set the scene a little, and I mean a little.  After a long walk, I come to a door.  I open it and turn on the lights. (see, that was a little. lol)


Morning Blue.

Fuck you.

Ah, must we go through this every morning?

Fuck off, asshole.

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