The Faceless

Butterfly

When you see that the stars in the sky are dim, and your hopes are low, turn to the plague. We will guide and protect you from the faceless. Nothing will make sense until you see the light of the plague. I want you to see us. I want you to please us. I want you to feed us.

Don't keep us waiting, we only want to feed. We want your spirits, we want your skin. We want your face.

The light of the stars will guide you to the safe haven of the butterfly room. Only once the bloodcurdling screams stop you should leave. The butterfly room is only safe so long as the closet isn't opened.

It has been jammed for your safety. Do not attempt to open it, even when the child inside begs you too.

If ever there is a butterfly peeling from the wall get out no matter if the screams have stopped or not. You are better of dying from there hands then what lay in the wall.

The papers around the room are not to be touched nor tampered with. If ever there is crimson anywhere in the room get out. If your head starts to hurt it is already too late, lay down and accept your fate.

The butterfly room isn't a safe haven at all, but a feeding ground for the faceless. If you ever find yourself in that horrid room get out and run as far as you can.

Never go into the butterfly room by choice, there won't be any escape for the willing participants.

I am simply a hostage to the game they play, and I urge you to play along with me as well! It gets boring at times, but most of my life is filled with excitement.

Let's start off with the basics.
My last name is Bailey. I cannot tell you my first name for security reasons. They cannot catch up to me. They are the stoppers of the plague, the fake, the faceless.

They take our faces and hide behind justice and wicked actions to secure the target's fates.

The only one you can trust is Mars, do not trust the wicked ones.

Do not trust brown. Do not trust blue. Do not trust the violet that threatens to seep into them. Most importantly, never trust the hues of green if you ever find yourself staring into them.

The blacklight will guide you through the room of the faceless. The whirring fan should always be on. If at any point the light flickers on, and the fan starts slowing, you must escape.

If you ever see it on the ceiling look down, if it is gone when you look up again you are gone as well. Reality as you know it isn't what you know, and you will never know reality as I know it.

You might have more questions for me now, but I cannot stay in the room of the faceless any longer.

It's a forever game of cat and mouse. Run.
Dellia, Dellia I wish you were still here. If only you hadn't fallen victim to the butterfly room.

If you ever find yourself bathing in the house where the butterfly room lives, and the water is scalding, get out. It isn't water your bathing in, but boiled blood.

The faceless like to say it's from the corpse of the man they murdered on the side of the road that fateful day, but the jar of blood hasn't had anything taken away from it.

We believe this blood to be the victim's, as one of the survivors commented on feeling lightheaded.

You may have questions after those few lines, but I assure you, nothing we tell you is wrong. You'll soon have the answers to everything you wish.

We are here to help you, do not panic, do not fear. Nobody will hurt you while we are here to protect you.

Who is we? Can you really trust them? Why trust anything they say with all the rules they set?

Who is the real bad guy?

Do not trust them. They are not trustworthy. We are The only ones you can trust. If you cHoosE to disregard our message, Your demise is your fAult. I don't expect you to know who we speak of, but you must ceRtainly hEed our words.

We caNOT drive our rules of survival further into your brain.

You have just wasted your time trying to listen to the faceless. They are not the ones here to protect you, and any messages they might try to send are worthless.

You cannot trust anyone in the house of the butterfly room. Mars resides in the room with the blacklight, ironically in the closet.

M is untrustworthy. He is apart of the faceless, though he carries perfect human skin.