Entry #4

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My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the fourth entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.

Toby and Eyeless Jack are speaking again and the glares have officially ceased, something I feel somewhat pleased about. They're back to the beyond awkward friendship they have, not that I could judge them, given that my odd understanding with the duel hatchet wielder isn't any better.

Now, with that out of the way, I have something I need to discuss rather than want to. Toby and I talked late last night about what he and EJ had fought about. He claimed that I was uncomfortable around him. Of course, I denied Toby's surprising accusations, telling him I only wanted to see if everyone felt the way I did around him.

Uncomfortable was never a word I saw myself using about anything to do with Toby anymore, so it's easy to imagine why I was taken aback. Something like this could have damaged everything we'd worked for, I was just lucky I cornered him and talked it out. Still, I'm not sure he understood me completely. I'm not sure Toby ever understands anything to do with feelings, or that any of us do. Myself included.

Of course, that brings us to our next topic. The way I feel towards him was called into question by my own consciousness and I feel it necessary to disclose it here should I become biased in my break down of Toby. It's a professional courtesy, as well as a possible aid to my judgement from here on out. Also, it just helps to write it down, no matter how pathetic or soft it makes me sound.

I feel close to Toby. Wow. That is a statement I never thought I would be able admit to anyone, let alone myself, but it remains true.

He's different than Brian is, but not in a bad way. He's not just a fellow killer anymore. Well, at least in terms of how I feel toward him. I am...somewhat soothed with him, untroubled. The very thought makes my eyes roll. It's a cliche, a rather obvious one at that, and I'm not the first to take notice of our recent closeness either.

As to those noticing our relationships changes, that will be discussed at a later date. For now, I wish to get this out before I go mad with over thinking this and rip the page from the binding.

Toby has become someone I feel reassured by, I'm at ease around him. I can speak seriously with him, but also be found spouting childish insults at him on occasion. Of course, it's always intended to be friendly banter, but it's something I don't have with others. My relationship with them is usually tense, or strictly professional. Or, in Brian's case, at ease in a different way. Less amiable. Toby's still annoying and can be an asshole when he feels like it, but he's not just that anymore. He has become more than a simple thorn in my side.

Tobias Erin Rogers is my friend, and more. I'm not a child and I won't spout off immature words like suggesting I have something as asinine as a crush on him, but I won't lie to myself either. That won't help anybody in this situation.

I know I have some sort of feelings for him, lukewarm ones, I just don't know what this implies I should do. I'm not a teenager in high school and Toby isn't my childhood best friend that I just somehow realized I'm in love with. I am a killer, a proxy. We both are. To me, that means we don't have the time for figuring out our emotions, let alone progressing ourselves to anything else. But, I know it could happen should I let it and should Toby return my feelings.

I feel like a kid again, pulling on pigtails for attention. The adult thing to do is to attempt to work it out and speak to Toby about it, it's the right thing to do as well. I know Toby wouldn't stop being my friend because of it, so I'm not hesitating because of that. I'm more worried he will return my feelings. It's not like we can exactly act as a normal couple. That's an idiotic delusion. We murder people for fucks sake. And we like it. We don't go on dates and hold hands and smile at each other like we have no brains in our bodies.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Until I conclude my next few entries, I should put this aside and figure it out on my own time. This is unprofessional and is wasting space in my analysis.

Toby is a killer. I know I've previously stated it, but I was reminded of it today.

Slenderman sent us, meaning Toby and me, on a mission two towns west of us. We appear to be back to normal, as in before he started avoiding his gaze, and we traveled in a rather pleasant time period. We joked around some of the time and discussed things that happened around the house, we walked in silence for part of it and it was farther from awkward than I expected. I think this was when I first noticed the comfort he provides me with.

He is still the natural born trouble maker he always was, laughing up a storm when we weren't near anywhere people could hear us. I don't think he'd care if there were, it's just more victims to us anyway. He wasn't bubbly per say, that was more up Sally's avenue, but he wasn't stoic like Brian was most of the time. I found that endearing. I say so here only because he called me out on being calm and asked why I was being so weird. At first, I didn't quite get what he meant. I had been acting this way for months, but I guess he still wasn't used to our playful conversations in place of our old fights.

I simply stated I found him endearing now that we were friends and he'd promptly shut up after that.

When we arrived at the house, Toby was somewhat fatigued. It'd been a while since he'd gone this far out in such a short period of time, and he'd exerted his usual amount of energy on the way over. However, the minute we stepped inside, I saw the shift.

It wasn't the first time he's killed around me and it most certainly won't be the last, but I think I'd been softening him in my mind. It wasn't hard to do, Toby could be kind when he chose to do so. He could be comforting and almost gentle, but he wasn't just that. He was angry and downright scary at times, not that I'd ever tell Toby he unnerved me just as much as the others. It wasn't in a bad way since I too was that way, but it wasn't what I first thought of when Toby came to mind.

It made me think harder about the way I've become biased in my opinion of Toby. Seeing him, hatchets slashing through the tied down victims, the crazy look in his eyes, clothes splattered with the reddish brownish color of his disgustingly dirty jacket mixing with the man's fluids. He was restless and venting everything out by doing this. I remember the times he wished he could do this to me, and how I wished the same about him most of the time before now.

I had barely even helped tie the guy down before Toby took over completely. He'd all but shoved me away from the newest target and soon to be victim of his hatchets. I wonder if he named them like people do in books. Not important.

The rope would have bruised the man's wrists, legs, and abdomen, had he lived long enough to give it time to form them. I think I've always been pleased by the way ropes looked when holding someone in place. They always struggle against it, a feeling I know hurt like a bitch before, during, and after. I guess, when your life is ending, you don't care about the pain. Escape plans block it out.

Toby hadn't given me enough time to fully enjoy the sight of the man panicking to escape from his binds when he began hacking off fingers. The guy was already bloody before, we'd stabbed him in the scuffle before we got him tied down, but now we were gaining some of the red color on ourselves. I got less, thanks to Toby pushing me back. My jacket had a few specks and my mask as well, I noticed later, but Toby ruined his jacket and pants with his slaughter.

Some time later, hours maybe, when we had cut off his limbs and removed any trace of ourselves, we left the house. I wasn't even irritated at the loss of my own chance at a kill. Watching Toby work was a lot like what most people think about music. It's calming, freeing. Afterwards, Toby is always relaxed in a way you never see him in otherwise. He's tired, using up all that energy does that to him, and he twitches less. He doesn't talk as much, but when he does he has a ghost of a smile in his goggle covered eyes.

Toby isn't normal and I can't think of him as just a normal high school kid you meet on the street. That's the difference between us and our victims. We aren't normal, we aren't innocent, we aren't clean handed, and we aren't victims to murder. Well, not Toby and I at least. Can't completely say that for all the others.

Still, Toby is fucked up in ways I can't say I'll ever completely understand and wouldn't even attempt to describe, but that isn't always a bad thing. I won't stop trying to learn about him, just like I won't stop learning about the others. It doesn't matter that I'm motivated to do so specifically for Toby at this moment, I just have to keep moving. Keep learning. I have to. It's the only way I can understand.

~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

The Analyzing of Ticci Toby by Timothy WrightWhere stories live. Discover now