John's Lawn

Hey guys, it’s Joseph. Due to Terry revising my previous series of posts, I figured I should do the same for the rest.

Just a few things to mention before we get back into this, I am doing well. I was MIA for a little while and I will be sharing everything that happened. However, with my returned memories and extended understanding, I felt the need to go over the next six posts first. Some aspects were altered due to the haze my memory was in at the time. So I will be clearing up some of those mistakes, as well as fixing everything up to sound better for my sake as much as yours.

If you never read any of the posts prior to them being edited, then I apologize for interrupting. That was all I had to say, time to get into this.

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“HA! Suck it Slendy.” This was the third game in a row I had beaten Terry.

“Oh come on, I still don’t even get how this game works.” He wasn’t amused in the slightest.

“Oh don’t be a sore loser, just pay up.”

“It’s not even fair, that deck is clearly better.”

“Come on, you made me a promise, and I even gave you the best deck I have. REVEAL YOUR SECRETS TO ME DEMON!”

Ever since we had the whole encounter with the shadow government, I’d been trying to get a new job. When I’m not doing that, I’ve been playing games with Terry and generally just hanging out with whatever friends he has over. Today though, we did something a little different. I was showing him a tabletop card game that I’ve been playing for years.

“I don’t understand why you want to look at the posters on my walls so bad.”

“Look man, I just wanna know what kind of shit you’re into when you aren’t watching shows in the living room.”

Terry could always beat me at pretty much any video game, so I had to make a bet I knew I could win. “Well, between you and me, I just find your infatuation with my posters odd.”

“Wait.” Silence filled the air, as we approached his door. Something about what he’d said sparked a memory in me, “You remember what Dollar store smudge said about the person I’ve met?”

Terry paused for a moment before asking, “You mean the whole, ‘between two odds’ thing?”

“Yeah.” I stood there, staring at the wall, “You think he meant where I worked?”

“If that is what he meant, he’d play a terrible riddler.” We both just stood there.

“Was that supposed to be a joke or something?” I stated bluntly.

“Yeah, I’m not too proud of that one myself.” He responded, rubbing the back of his neck.

Suddenly, there were a series of four knocks on the front door. “You expecting Doc to drop by?”

“No… I was about to ask you if you were expecting someone. I guess it wouldn’t make much sense though unless you’ve been making friends with the local witch doctor.” I gave him a confused glance before he prepped his usual ‘answering the door’ attire. A tentacle unfurled itself from his back as he approached the source of the knocking.

He answered the door to someone saying, “Oh holy shit! Uh, s-sorry, you’re a lot taller than I expected. Well…” he paused, “Pizza delivery for uhhh…” He took a moment to read the receipt, then read the name with a defeated sigh, “Leeroy Jenkins?”

Terry let out his own sigh before taking the pizza, “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s already been paid for, tip and everything. Have a good night.”

As the door closed, I couldn’t help but ask, “Did someone you know send that or something?”

“Yeah… something like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Terry went serious, “Well it’s either Abraham, or an unwelcome third party.”

I let out a short chuckle, “In this situation wouldn’t it be more like a fifth party or something?”

He wasn’t amused, “I don’t care how many parties it is. The problem is that if it isn’t Abraham, you won’t exactly be the safest person in the world.” Just then, Terry’s phone began to ring.

“Are you clairvoyant or something? I swear it’s like you know the perfect time to say things.”

Terry answered the phone but didn’t say anything, then I heard… oh thank the lord it was Abraham’s voice, “Terry, so good to talk to you!” Terry had set the phone to speaker.

As he spoke I could swear I heard a hint of relief in his voice, “Hey, how are you holding up?”

“Never better! How’s the pizza?” He sounded genuinely interested, a stark contrast from his usual cocky tone.

“Oh good, it was just you. I’m not sure, we haven’t opened it yet.”

“Well I’m not just calling to ask about food for the living. I’ve been working with that Dexter character and a few others to try to get any and all information I can on the organization.” 

“And?” Terry clearly didn’t want a long explanation.

“Well, it’s been difficult to get into the database but thanks to Dexter breaking into their security before, we do know how their programming works. Do you happen to know anyone by the name of Maerod Grover?” Abraham seemed to be struggling with something as he spoke, “They appear to be linked to you in some way, so if you know of them, then that means we are making progress.”

Terry responded through a gritted teeth sound, “I know of her.”

“Excellent! That is all of the information I need. I will speak with you at a later date. But for now, I must get back to work. Enjoy the pizza and the rest of your night.” With that, he ended the call.

“Terry? You’re looking a little tall. Wanna watch something and relax?” He nodded and we sat down on the couch to go on one of our binging sprees.

After about two episodes of our show, my phone began to ring. As I checked the caller ID I groaned, “It’s them again.”

Terry paused the show, “You mean those FBI type guys? Just block the number.”

I let out a sigh, “I may be stupid…” que dramatic effect, “BUT, I already tried that. My guess is they have programmers or something, cause they call back every time from the same number.”

“Well if they’re with the FBI of course they have programmers. Did you try asking Abraham for help?”

“It didn’t really cross my mind. I mean, I vaguely remember you guys mentioning it once, but I guess I figured he wasn’t that good? I mean, we let Dexter handle everything at the bunker.” I paused, “He’s so old, I just figured he couldn’t learn new things all that well.”

“Can you just shut that off already?” I realized my phone was still ringing and closed it, “Brains are adaptable, especially for paranormal beings like him. Human brains are particularly malleable, especially when they don’t deteriorate over time.” he paused but I nodded him along, “Think about it like upgrading your computer. Suddenly it has higher processing power. Higher graphical output. The human brain can adapt for the most part without having to go through multiple generations, given it lives long enough. A computer’s overall limiting factor is the motherboard. If you have high end parts but none of them will fit your motherboard you would have to buy a new one. The brain is similar in that regard, it has high potential for growth. But at a certain point it can’t grow anymore.”

“Ya done?” I asked, exasperated.

“Hey, I consider myself an educator.” Could’ve fooled me, “Don’t bitch at me becau-” There was a firm knocking at the door. Like he was from the FBI or something.

That was when I heard a muffled voice through the door, “FBI OPEN UP!”

I verbally retaliated, “Of FUCKING course.”

The voice spoke again, “We know you’re in there Joseph!”

I stood up and began approaching the door. I opened it, expecting to see the usual uniforms from tv shows. But instead it was three guys wearing what could only be described as clearance sale FBI uniforms, “Well if it ain’t the three musketeers? How goes it?”

They shoved me aside, entering the apartment without my permission, immediately closing the door behind them. The same gruff voice as before asked me something, but I wasn’t really listening since my eyes were fixed on the familiar looking pistols on their hips. “Are you listening to me?”

“No, I wasn’t. Those pistols just look-”

He cut me off, “I asked why you’ve been so stubborn. The higher ups are starting to get pissy because you’ve been annoyingly difficult to track down.”

I responded a little confused, “I uhh… don’t get out much?”

I turned to Terry desperate for some help. Thankfully, he turned his head and replied, “That was probably A-”

The two who hadn’t said anything yet readied their pistols, “Stand down men!” The one who had been talking to me commanded, “He’s neutral so there’s no need to start conflict. If you were about to say Abraham, I’d have to disagree with you.”

I interrupted before he could get another word out, “Seriously, does everyone just casually know the headless horseman or something? It’s getting ridiculous just how much I don’t know about the paranormal.” 

“Well, he does work for the paranormal branch of the government, and there ain’t nothin’ they know that we don’t. Back to the topic at hand though, the name was redacted so it most likely wasn’t him. I think it might’ve been a member of the USPM.” 

There was that acronym again, “What exactly is the USPM anyway?”

The gruff voiced man gave me quite possibly the most underwhelming response, “Yeah, I can’t tell you that. If you come with us though, some of your questions may get answered.”

I turned to Terry, “Screw it, I’m just gonna go with em. I really don’t feel like arguing with government officials right now. Hold down the fort for me while I’m gone.”

Terry simply responded, “Okay, see you in a few days.”

“Wait a few days?” I asked in complete bewilderment, “Why so long?”

The gruff man answered me, “We have plenty of questions lined up for you so it’ll take some time to get all the information we need out of you.” All I could do was sigh as I followed them out of our apartment. Unfortunately I can’t disclose any details regarding what I have come to know as the PFBI because of security jargon. Things along the lines of “It WiLl CoMpRoMiSe Us To EnTiTiEs AnD oThEr GoVeRnMeNtS.” blah blah blah. The last guy to interview me was all sorts of messed up and I’m like 90% sure he had beef with me.

When I finally got back home three days later, Terry was nowhere to be seen. All the lights in the house were off. “T-Man, you alive in here?” After getting no response, I figured he was just out with a friend, or doing something more nefarious. Either way, I needed a shower worse than I had in awhile. You’d think an organization specializing in getting information out of paranormal entities could afford a shower. But apparently that isn’t exactly priority numero uno on their list.

Just as I started the water, I could’ve sworn I had heard the sound of the front door unlocking. But I knew for a fact that I hadn’t locked it so that couldn’t be right. At the same time, why would someone lock the door, if it were from the inside it would mean that it’s Terry, and he doesn’t lock the door unless he’s leaving. If it were from the outside that would mean it must’ve been one lousy burglar. I turned off the water and headed to my room as quietly as I could. On our way out of the bunker, I had picked up the broken Nodachi and got someone to craft the broken blade into more of a Ninjato type sword. It’s a lot more practical for me compared to something as long as the original. Conveniently, it was already laced with silver so it was entity repellent to begin with. All that to say, I grabbed my Ninjato off the wall I have it mounted on. I unsheathed it as I approached the door.

By now, the person had figured out that they turned the lock the wrong way. When they opened the door, a six and a half foot tall, bulky man met my gaze. He had a blonde buzcut, stretched black t-shirt, torn jeans, combat boots, all paired with scars riddling his body, “Wh-who in the everliving f-fuck are you?” I stuttered out, holding the sword out.

A familiar Texan voice responded, “Calm down man, it’s me, Tucker. From the bunker, remember?” I let out a sigh of relief and let my arms fall to my sides, “Alright cool, is Terry around?”

I sighed yet again, “Probably not, unless he’s down in his man cave. Why are you here exactly? Aren’t special forces supposed to always be at the ready or something? Also, why were you trying to pick the lock instead of just knocking.”

He ignored my last two questions like he hadn’t even processed them, “I thought it was obvious, I needa discuss some things with ‘im.”

I spoke over him before he could get out another sentence, “Look, I just got back from an interrogation from that undercover FBI group. All I want to do is take a nice, long, hot shower. You’re kinda fucking with my flow man.”

“Alright, well do you at least know when he’ll be back?” he asked, sounding slightly desperate.

“Hell I don’t know. He didn’t message me and he didn’t leave a note.”

“In that case, I’m gonna leave you with my private number. Get back to me when he’s available. It’s more important than you know.” He handed me a card with his number on it, like he was some kind of business man. “I needa head out now, don’t forget to notify me.”

Tucker was about to leave when the door flung open. Terry was on guard the moment he saw the two of us right next to the door. When he realized it was us, he relaxed, “Shit, don’t scare me like that.” he paused, giving the soldier what I assumed to be a once over,  “Tucker I presume?”

“Yeah, I needa discuss a few things with you. Dexter told me you recognized the name Maerod… Maerod Grover I mean.”

“Go on…” Terry sounded a bit tense.

“Not with him around.” He gestured to me with his head.

“Look,” Terry was agitated, “Whatever you tell me, I can easily tell him. Just get out with it or I’m throwing you out.” He shut the door with a tentacle and readied it.

“O-okay.” Tucker clearly didn’t like the prospect of being thrown through a closed door, “Well, as far as the programming team has seen, there isn’t a list of any of their abilities. The military has no information on anything other than humans with that name. Here’s the thing though, that organization, as far as we can tell, has an even larger database on entities than us. It even has detailed descriptions on all of their weaknesses, strengths, bonds, so on and so forth. But Maerod only has one thing in her description, that’s her ties to you. It’s like she is tryin’ to confuse us. Do you have any information on her at all? Appearance, abilities, anything that could lead us to finding her.”

Terry put his tentacle away uncomfortably, “She’s… well she’s a difficult case. She’s a shapeshifter, but not a normal one. I met her through one of my side gigs. If I had to explain it, she perfectly imitates whoever she’s copying. Personality, fashion sense, even posture. Down to the genetic level she is a perfect copy of that person. But she still has her own mind at the same time.”

Tucker sounded kind of nervous, “We’ve dealt with shapeshifters before, but if she’s able to copy the person perfectly, how do you know who she really is?”

Terry let out a nervous chuckle, “I don’t, I just know who she put on whenever we used to talk. We fell out of contact about 30 years ago though.”

“Well can she do anything else?” Tucker was starting to sound a little desperate.

“Anyone she mimics, she has the abilities of, so she is rather… unpredictable. That’s about all I know though.”

“Well, this information’s gonna help quite a lot. Even though you ain’t workin for the USPM anymore, I do appreciate you helpin us out. That’s all I needed to know, so if you don’t mind me Imma head out.”

As Tucker closed the door, questions started bursting out of my mouth like a broken dam, colliding with each other, providing nothing but incoherent gibberish, “Who in the what was how can it be in the something or other?” I gained my composure and tried again, “ahem Sorry, what I meant to say was: Who are you guys talking about? What do you mean by ‘has the abilities of’? Finally, why did you decide you wanted to help the government all of a sudden?”

Terry responded after my momentary outburst, “If you were paying any attention whatsoever you should know who we are talking about, and what I meant by that is what I said. She gains the abilities of anyone she mimics, but is only capable of using those abilities while in that form. It isn’t that hard to grasp really. As for why I am helping them, it’s because they are helping me.”

I let out a confused, “How?”

His voice went from baritone to bass, “Because that bitch backstabbed me. I’m going to my room.”

Him saying that hit me with a realization. As he shut the door, I managed a, “Son of a bitch.”