At first a felt anxious writing this and sharing my experiences, but now that others have come forward to tell their stories, I feel as tho I must tell mine.
It all began shortly after christmas.
Dark twisted hallways. That was my first thought as I entered the "House of Goons". I didn't quite understand what drew me there. Some people call me curious, other people call me an agitator, but for some strang reason the House of Goons was calling to me. I hitchhiked across the U.S. Border with nothing but a backpack full of clothes, a copy of MK, and some rations.
SQREEEEECH. An old rusty storm door. Probably there for about a hundred by the sound of it. My eyes darted around the halls of the house as the sound seemed to echo from every crevice. I often wondered why this man seemed to grip at my soul. I always felt attached to him. Like he had some sort of hold over me, like every word he spoke seemed to peak interest and attention.
I stumbled for a moment, and landed directly on my knee. I looked down at the old stained wood of the floor. A dust cloud was stirring around me from the impact and I wondered for a moment how anyone could inhabit a place like this let alone train there. I lifted my gaze from the floor only to see something.
I couldn't figure out what it was. It darted out of my vision as if made aware that I saw it. The quick bumbling sound of footsteps could be heard running throughout the house. Whatever it was, it did not want to be seen. My heart was racing, wondering if I had actually seen what I saw or if the general ambience of my surroundings was merely wearing me down.
I pressed on. To this day I often wonder why. No normal man would have stayed in the house after witnessing these strange events, but I travelled across two countries to be there, and I HAD to find Tom and truly understand him and perhaps myself.
I walked down the hall towards the appiration that I had just seen, or did I? I was still muddering this when I heard it. It started out very feint, but grew into a loud screech. aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAN.
Then it was gone. The hair on the back of my neck stood erect. I found my hands wrapped around my body as if standing in a freezer. It was cold.
I took one step onto the starcase which seemed to lead to a hall full of rooms upstairs. My hand touched the wooden bannister, dust coated my finger tips and I am pretty sure I disturbed a spiders cleverly woven web. Slowly I crept up the stairs, my footsteps echoing throughout the house.
bumdumdumdudmudmdmn
The footsteps again. This time increasing in velocity. I noticed they were going towards the opposite end of the hallway. I slowly started making my way down this warped twisted hallway. I drifted past one door, and immediately did a double take. This room contained football memorbillia, not pro, but it looked like some old highschool jerseys, with a couple trophies and old photos.
bumdumdudum
Footsteps running again. My heart was racing. I pushed on and past an old bathroom that had not looked like it had been occupied in years. I could see the rust spots in the old victorian tub in the corner of my eye as I passed.
Another room. This one seemed a little more familiar. MK memorbilia, mostly from the 3d Era. A few Deception posters, and a couple old xbox controllers along with a shelf full of old games. I realized this must be Tom's room.
bumdumdudmududumddum
Louder now. As if whatever it was grew 3x in size. It jolted me from my gaze of the previous room.
The second to last room on the left stopped me dead in my tracks.
Mk9. Sub Zero. Raiden. Strategy guides, notes, nothing was in order. Everything was chaos. It was as if a tornado swept through the room. An old CRT tv was knocked over on the floor, what appeared to be Tier Charts and matchup charts were inscribed on the wall with what I hoped was red paint. It was at that very moment I heard the most terrifying sound I ever heard in my entire life.
.........aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN AHHHHHHHHHHHH
There was only one room left. No other places to go. Whatever was in this house, had to be in that room. I stopped myself if only for a moment to truly understand the decision that was in front of me. I figured I came this far, I should at least find the source for these odd circumstances. It took every ounce of courage in me to reach out.
The handle was cold, and surprisingly gritty. I couldn't determine if it was once again red paint chips,sand, or some other abrasive material. The door took a good solid shove to open, heaved due to years of the house shifting no doubt. The door sprung open my eyes closed for a moment almost scared of what they were to see. I found the courage to open them and there in this room, the end of my journey, the epitome of my time spent in this rediculous house....
Was nothing.
I was relieved, although somewhat slightly disapointed. The room was pure white, it was vibrant with no light source. I still cant comprehend what the room truly was. It was just a void.
Nothingness.
I sighed, and turned around prepared to leave empy handed. I did a full one eighty and went to leave the room.
My heart stopped beating.
Inches from my face, was a being. Head aimed to the floor, hands twisted into an odd shape, it's frame seemed to be held up by strings.
Terror had me. I couldn't move. Slowly, this figures head which was fixated on the floors began to raise. What felt like years happened in seconds. As it's head raised the first thing I noticed was its eyes. White. No pupils. Devoid of all life. The shadows still covered half of it's face.
It's head twisted slightly, but still continued in an upward motion. I saw it's mouth for the first time. There were no lips, just skin. It quivered like a worm trapped under a sheet of plastic. Then it's mouth opened, slowly, the skin pulled apart in multiple sections like the mouth was tied together with string made of skin. MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN.
It lunged at me.
I am not entirely to sure what happened within those brief seconds, but I managed to shake myself free from this creature.
That was when I noticed the ultimate horror. The twisted hand. IT seemed familiar and I finally realized why. It was in the same formation as that of Sub-Zero from his MK9 loading screen. The eyes, devoid of life...listless were that of Raiden. The mouth, was in the process of forming. Into what I cannot be sure but it was then that I realized the ultimate truth.
This being was Tom Brady. I fled. Down the stairs, the dust was circling behind all the while wails of mmmmaaaaaNNNNNNNNN UGH mmmmaaaaaaaNNNN UGH mmmmmmaaaaaaN UGH
echoed behind me. As I bolted through the front door of the house I never once looked back.
Now that I am back in the comforts of my own home, I am safe. Every so often however, I see something dart out of the corner of my eye and whispers of wind with that same familiar sound....mmmmmmaaaaannnn.
I cannot explain what happened that day. Tom was sighted merely hours later miles away playing casuals in New York. Perhaps each room was a reflection of Tom's life...and perhaps the white room was the next stage of history in Tom's life. I cannot be sure, but one thing I am sure about, is that I will never understand the mysteries of Tom "Bill Menoutis" Brady.
