This shit ain't sanitary

Just got back home...and seriously, it ain't.

I was originally at a concert. It was fine, until I noticed TPF.
I didn't have my mask with me at the time.

He was, I don't know, mesmerising people, one at a time. They'd leave, he'd reappear after a few minutes and the process would repeat.

As much as I hate to walk out in the middle of Iron Maiden playing Fear of the Dark, this was important. I called up the boys to get my mask and get in touch as soon as they got it.

I followed a boy Slendy picked out out of the festival grounds and tried tailing him. I am about as stealthy as a new Porsche, but I considered that a person who acts like they don't see the world at all wouldn't notice a dude in a leather coat following him.

Then my phone's text alarm rang. He stopped, so I decided the best course of action would be ducking behind a building corner. The text was from Brian - he had the mask. I hurriedly answered with my location, direction of movement and urge to hurry.

I kept following the boy through the neighboughrhood, amongs block of flats, then semi-detached houses. we finally wound up someone's storage shack which the kid entered. I sent Brian precise directions. I had no intention of entering unmasked.

Another person, this time a teenage girl appeared just before Brian made it with my mask. I put it on and told him to leg it. He refused to leave me alone.

We entered the storage amd saw one the most horrifying things in existence. It was like a morbidly decorated party - intestines for serpentines, glasses full of blood with eyeballs pierced with toothpicks. The toothpicks themselves seemed to be made from bones.

On a table was a pile of flesh, a great big lump, that I thought was still throbbing, with two candles stuck on top of it and burning out slowly.

And then I woke up in the middle of writing this.
Great, I need to check if I did anything significant while I was "out".
And I need to contact Brian.