Since my last post, the tattooed man I previously wrote about continues to stalk me. In fact, I now firmly believe the story posted by Charlotte Hamm ("I'm at Your Front Door") was a indeed a warning.
The man, whom I have so far been unable to identify, seems quite dogged in his pursuit. He shows up randomly, but wherever I am, there's no doubt he's there because of me. In each instance, he appears to be watching-- studying even-- rather than trying to literally "catch" me. He could done so by now if that was his intent, but he prefers to keep a certain amount of distance between us, as if merely observing. Strangely, this is even more unsettling. I keep expecting him to rush at me at any moment, but he never does, and the anticipation is both exhausting and terrifying.
I still have not gotten a good look at the tattoo on his neck. He is always at least twenty or so feet away from me when I spot him, and I dare not go any closer. His clothing generally obscures his neck also, but the tattoo is definitely there. I can just make out the edges of it, but I can't quite tell what it is. In my mind, I've concocted a rather elaborate story of how the tattoo has great meaning in all of this, but in reality it's probably nothing more than ink, anyway.
As I elluded to, my attempts to find out who the tattooed man is have thus far been failures. I initially spent some time looking through newspapers at the Pale Forest library, hoping to spot him. My theory was he'd likely be in some political photo, possibly with either Stanley Fouts (the mill foreman) or Mayor Huntley. This would give me tangible evidence on who he was working for. After several mind-numbing hours of looking through microfilm, however, the idea seemed less plausible. I had all but given up, in fact, when I did manage to find him. Unfortunately, it wasn't in an old newspaper, but rather in one of the library's aisles. This time he even made eye contact. I immediately left, though I doubt he kept me from finding anything relevant.
Thankfully he has yet to show up at the house where I am staying. I'm not entirely sure how I would react if he did, but I have gone to the trouble of procurring a weapon for my protection. I won't say what it is, just in case this is being read by those I'd need to use it on, but I dislike having it at all. Hopefully it will remain in its current hiding place.
Over the past few days, I've had time to think about this man quite a bit, and I know what it is that disturbs me the most. His ability to seemingly appear out of the nether is frightening, as is the very idea of being watched by outside forces, but these both pale in comparison to what really troubles me. I have studied him, as he has me, and I am unable to read his expressions. There wasn't even a hint of anger in his face when he found me at the library, though he undoubtedly knew what I was doing. I couldn't interpret any sense of emotion at all, for that matter. Still, the sense of danger was palpable as it always is. This man means to do me harm eventually, and the worst part is, he doesn't seem to think anything of it. He's completely ambivalent towards whatever he has in store for me, and in my mind, that makes him even more of a monster. I just hope I don't wake one night to the sight of his empty stare.
Until next time...