Nov 112013
 

**Hey folks this is a reprint of part 9 of The Man With the Hazy Suit that originally ran on August 14, 2010.  I have been few and far between regular posts this summer, and that is the same thing that has killed some of my favorite TV shows, like Alias.  So I am going to rerun the whole story and finish it strong!  Thanks for reading for the first time or rereading if you have been here before.  The Choose your own adventure aspect is not available anymore.**

*******Next week is new!!!!**********

** sorry about the earlier confusion, the story got jumbled and tied up in word.  fixed now!**

Hey folks Here is the next chapter in the story!  I hope you are still entertained and interested!

Previously in the Man in the Hazy Suit:

Police detective Thompson was wrapping up a crime scene when he found a scrap of paper in the dead man’s posessions. The paper led him to the bus station and a locker that was filled with legal pads, all written by the deceased man.  Sergeant Thompson is currently reading the legal pads which are spelling out a strange narrative and a chronicle of a serial killers murders, that somehow the man writing the story knows before they happen, if only by moments.  So far our writer has witnessed several deaths with apparently more to come.  Strange coincidences surround the narrator having to do with the Man in the Hazy Suit, leading to paranoia and a wonder as to the outcome of his sanity.  Currently, he thinks he may have the drop on the Man in the Hazy Suit.

When we left our story last time:

There was basically a tent in the middle of the library.  All lined with dark silk and flashing neon lights.  People moved in a stupor inside the tent, all in various states of undress.  An orgy in the library, and, as I circled the large bed, I saw a gas can on the floor beside it.

The man was here somewhere.  I wasn’t going to let him burn anything down today.  I grabbed the gas can and ran to the other end of the floor trying to get away.  I nearly made it too, but as I rounded the corner to the elevator, The Man in the Hazy Suit stood there.

And today we join our story With Sergeant Tomson, already in progress:

My cell phone rang, frightening me to the point of dropping the notepad that I was reading from.  “Sergeant Tomson.” I answered recovering.  “Tomson!” It was the Chief.  “What in the Hell do you think you are doing not getting that gas can guy in the crematorium as soon as possible?” He was mad and I guess he had a right to be.

I was supposed to have made the arrangements for his cremation before I left yesterday.  Instead I had found this essay.  I had been reading for hours.  “Chief, “ I said.  “I have a new lead on that case.”  “Why do we need a new lead on that?  We solved it, we are finished!” He yelled at me.

“Just listen Chief.” I said and proceeded to tell him about the clue in the killers pocket, the trip to the bus station, the notebooks, the disturbing revelations within.  By the time I had described all of the murders and arsons committed, the Chief was impressed.  “Hmmm.” He started, “ok then, see how many of these things you can get solved.  Call me back.”  “Sure thing Chief.” I said.  “It seems to be winding down now.”  I hung up the phone and picked up the notepad that I had dropped.

There was only one notepad left after the one I was on.  I was eager to get back to the revelations but basic hygiene was needed.  I had been sitting in that chair for 2 days now, reading, eating and sleeping.  And I smelled like it.

Later, after I was presentable again, I started back with the notepad and its dark tales.

The man was here somewhere.  I wasn’t going to let him burn anything down today.  I grabbed the gas can and ran to the other end of the floor trying to get away.  I nearly made it too, but as I rounded the corner to the elevator, The Man in the Hazy Suit stood there.

He was looking downward, leaning one hand against the wall as I approached.  He turned his head slightly up and looked askance at me.  He smiled a small, knowing smile as he looked at me; his eyes boring holes into my soul.

He straightened, never losing his smile.  As he stood there, I was drawn to him, pulled by some unseen force, unbidden by me, yet unstoppable.  I was floating towards the Man in the Hazy Suit, and as I got closer, he became…clearer.

The haziness lessened and cleared as I got nearer.  As I realized this, my head began to spin and suddenly I could not see the man any more.  Yet I felt…different.  I looked down my body at the Hazy Suit that was now on me.

I looked at the gas can in my hand and twitched as I began to pour the pungent fluid on the floor.  Memories flooded in.  Realization hit me like a .45 slug in the forehead.  I was the man in the Hazy Suit.  I was the one responsible for all of that unpleasantness.

That was why I could not stop the man.  That is why he would not listen to me.  He is me.  I could feel him then, inside my head with me, crowding me into one of the dark recesses there.   He took great pleasure lighting a match that he produced from his suit and tossing it to the pool of gasoline on the floor of the library.

He turned us calmly and pushed the elevator button.  The car came and the door opened.  We stepped inside and began the descent to the ground floor as the 5th floor burned and those who had been in throes of ecstasy only moments before now screamed in horror and pain.

I tried to gain some sort of control over my body.  I tried to scream at the other entity in my head but this body was committed only to him.   Things made sense, but now, instead of the dream state, I was trapped.  Trapped and no one could do anything about it.

Join us again next week for more of The Man in the Hazy Suit!

-Justin

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