Thursday, 29 November 2012

NOVEMBER 29, 2012

Log from November 29th:

Her Runner group is dead.
Whatever attacked them slaughtered them all, and if my Priestess weren't very used to losing the majority of her blood, she'd probably be dead, too. The thing nearly managed to carve her heart right out. Her chest is's just hanging open, bones all cracked, as if she was opened up like a gift box so something could go exploring in her chest cavity.
Her nose is leaking blood, too. Not much. I guess she doesn't have very much left.
I'm getting her to a hospital, now.

Wednesday, 28 November 2012

NOVEMBER 28, 2012

Log from November 28th:

So many Scarlet-marked have swarmed. The Runner group thought it was an attack, but I managed to convince them that I'm not among their ranks. I 'confessed' - told them I'm Running from the Red Cap, a reformed sexual deviant. Or, at least, one who got a taste of that lifestyle and ran scared. I lingered long enough to get a fistful of logs from my Mistress, all undated. Now that they're all asleep, I'll post them, here.
...Most of them, because some were just too upsetting for me to read, let alone write.


The re-fuelling last night has left me completely jazzed. I feel high enough to climb a mountain, jump off, and fly over the world, flipping off all the little sodomites who helped me get to where I am today. Not an offensive flipping-the-bird, I'd like that clarified - the kind that's an instruction. And, 'god' bless them, I know they'd do it too.


So apparently, being Numbed after puberty doesn't cancel out aforementioned puberty. So, it is actually possible to be one of the Children of the Cold and Scarlet-marked, simultaneously. You just risk some serious frostbite.
The more you know!


I'm getting increasingly conflicted over this Great Game business. I mean, taking out other Fears sounds like fun, but I'm seeing a lot of merit to some of these guys. EAT is one kinky bitch, for example. Seriously, we just bond. Also, with the popularity surge for zombies, even the decaying Dying Man shards are managing to get some fucked-up action.
I mean, do I ever want to see that again? God, no. Not just because of the corpse factor... It was like if I'd walked in on Jack, doing the horizontal tango. I practically raised him, you know? In his never-aging, forever-a-child kind of way.
At least it's boosting my decision to refrain from taking any of these suckers out, myself. I'll get my Marked on killing other proxies, once they've dealt with Russ. He still pisses me off, so I figure why the hell not kill him?
In the meantime, I'll just throw more orgies. Seems to be the answer to most things.


It's actually hilarious. Not even I understand my motives, anymore.


Got to give 'myself' a bit of credit. At least 'I' had a plan, before. I don't really want to keep following that plan just out of fuck-you principle, but seriously, what am I supposed to do now?
I'm losing direction. Getting introspective, and shit. That's how I know things are really wrong, because [REDACTED]. I ought to be focusing on that, because I think I'm giving the poor guy a complex. Not fair to him, since he's doing a perfectly decent job down there.
I think it's high time I headed back to my Priestess. No word about whether or not Russ got to her, and I'm sure I would've heard something,, I might as well. Maybe that'll give me some of my focus back.


While I'm thrilled that the conclusion my Mistress seems to have reached is that she'll return to me...the other logs given to me were all, essentially, pornography. Telling the world about the acts of depravity she has been indulging in, to get strong again.
It makes my heart ache.

Sunday, 25 November 2012

NOVEMBER 25, 2012

Log from November 25th:

I'm deeply sorry for not giving regular progress reports. I've been so busy Running that it's difficult to snatch a moment to myself, and it's been difficult enough diverting suspicion within the group.
Before I get much further ahead of myself, I'll give a progress report on what I've been doing, all month...
Since I took off in October, I've been infrequently stumbling on bouquets, seeing grey and hearing these occasional piercing shrieks that leave me deaf for days afterwards, sensing things in the shadows watching, waking up with a pressure on my chest just in time to watch something dart away...and I'm always cold - colder than I ought to be, even in winter. That last one, though...despite that my hands are always numb, I don't feel like it's a danger. Sometimes, I see black-eyed children peering at me from around corners, only for them to dart away giggling. Also - the nightmares are horrific.Terrifyingly nauseating images, things I can't even describe. There are nights where I don't sleep at all, now.
Sometimes I would cut my arms open and bleed on the ground, hoping my Mistress will be drawn to me. She never appears. Worse, it seemed my tribute goes to another Vessel - they seem to be everywhere, lately, and avoiding Ruby Tuesday was probably the most difficult thing I've ever had to do.
Then, recently, I found myself in the company of two others - also Runners. Neither of them were particularly talkative, and highly untrustworthy, but something about my frantic state must have earned their sympathy. We all met in this hostel, one that offers discounted board for people on the run from Fears. I, personally, found it welcoming; I could sense a presence like my Mistress's, there, and I can only guess that was why I wasn't turned away in suspicion. Before we left, two more joined us, and we were back on the road heading South. I think they plan on jumping the border into Mexico...there's something funny about that.
We all pointedly refuse to get to know each other, but I feel almost bonded to them. There's a kind, without trusting. We all know we can depend on one another to watch, and to fight.
I think I've hidden what I am well enough. At the very least, no one has accused me of being a proxy. I suspect they think I'm being hounded by the Black Dog, and truthfully, I wonder that myself. I've glimpsed my Mistress's dog every so often, tailing me, dragging that bag of flesh.
I can't imagine what they'll do to me if they find out I'm not only Marked, but a Vessel, too.

Monday, 19 November 2012

NOVEMBER 19, 2012

Log from November 19th:

Sometimes they are shadow;
Sometimes, just a voice.
Always, they’re meticulous
And they leave you no choice.

You don’t fit to their order
Don’t dare to disobey.
The torture can always get worse
So it’s best that you play.

Friday, 9 November 2012

NOVEMBER 9, 2012

Log from November 9th

I have been touched, but it does not care.
It is all around us, but also nowhere.
The silence unmakes us, there’s nowhere to go.
The Quiet claims all; the wise of us know.