The Blue Haired Man

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
I suppose its a Thriller of sorts presented in diary format. It was inspired largely by Nikolai Gogol's 'The Diary of a Madman' and to a lesser extent by Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Tell-Tale Heart'. Hope everyone enjoys it.

Submitted: April 25, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 25, 2011



Sergeant McCray:

This Diary was found amidst the personal effects of Suspect 12. Taken into account with all other relative evidence, it clearly confirms our suspicions.

January 12

It had been a strange day. It had started out just like any other day. I'd gotten dressed, gone to work, suffered my co-workers' derision, as per usual, and then boarded the five-thirty pm train home. It was during this homeward journey, that I noticed a man staring at me; but not an ordinary man for he seemed to have blue hair and, stranger still, red eyes. All the way home this man stared at me; not once blinking. When I finally got off at my stop it was with a great sense of relief and I headed home urgently lest the blue haired man follow me. Once I got home, I proceeded to lock all the doors and windows and then huddled trembling in the corner. I honestly cannot say why I was so frightened, but I stayed there huddled for an hour. Before finally rising and continuing my day as per usual. Truly a strange day.

January 13

Another strange day. Once again I saw the blue haired man! Again it had been aboard my homeward train. I had not seen him at first, too busy was I, lost in bitter thought concerning a cruel joke played upon me by my co-workers today. I had noticed him with a start which seemed to concern some of my fellow commuters, but I ignored them. Transfixed as I was upon the blue haired man a few feet away from me. Transfixed upon his red eyes, his red, baleful eyes. Once again I rushed home upon escaping the train. Where I once again repeated my bizarre practice of the previous evening. I am afraid.

January 14

I spoke today with the blue haired man! Or rather he spoke with me. He had accosted me as soon as I stepped aboard the train, gripping my arm fiercely and whispering urgently in my ear. At first I had wanted to run, but I had begun to find myself becoming strangely intrigued by the words spoken in my ear and against my better judgement I listened. My eyes widening in shock with every uttered syllable. I had shifted my gaze upon the woman who was the subject of his whisperings. I couldn't believe what he was saying. She seemed so harmless sitting there, reading an anthology by someone called Gogol. Could she really be as dangerous as he was saying? This carried on until I got off the train, where I continued to ponder the blue haired man's words for the remainder of the day.

January 15

He says it has to be done. I don't want to do it, she seemed so harmless sitting there reading an anthology, by Poe this time, but he says it must be done. He threatened me on the train today; he said he would make things very painful for me if I didn't cooperate. I looked into those red eyes, those red, baleful eyes and I believed him. He says it will be done tomorrow night and that I am to come aboard the train prepared. I don't want to do it, but he says it must be done.

January 18

I've lost time again. I can't seem to remember anything about the past five days. I tried reading my diary entries for those days in hopes of enlightenment as to my activities, but all I found was strange nonsense. I turned on my television this evening. There was a sad story about a young woman who had been murdered not too far from here. It was so sad. How can people do such horrible things? Hopefully I'll remember soon what happened over those five lost days. It's embarrassing and besides it's been happening a lot lately. I'm beginning to worry. Perhaps it's time I went and saw a doctor?

January 19

I went to the doctor today, but he says there is nothing wrong with me. How can that be? I keep losing time and last night I started having vivid nightmares, that were so horrible. I don't know what to do. I saw more about that young woman on television today. Police say the killer made a mistake this time and that they're confident that they are closing in on him. I hope they catch the monster soon.

January 20

I saw a picture of the young woman on television today. She looks just like the woman from my nightmares. It couldn't be. Could it? No. Please say it couldn't be true.

January 21


January 22


January 26

I'm so sorry. I've tried to end it so many times, gotten so close but I just can't do it. I'm too much of a coward. I remember everything. So many, so many. How many times did the blue haired man visit me in my mind? Why did it all start? What event triggered all of this? Was it just one event? Or merely the culmination of a failed, wasted and lonely life? I don't know. I just don't know.

January 27

They've come for me. I hear the sirens outside. The hurried footsteps upon the stairs. I won't resist. I deserve any punishment I receive. I can't help but stare into the mirror. Strange, I can't see myself. Just eyes, those red eyes. Just those red, baleful eyes.

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