Thursday, June 30, 2011

Twenty-Seventh Post.

6/23/11; Re-calling events. Sorry, I've been busy with our current events taking place in North Carolina. Posting this had to be delayed the night I originally intended to inform everyone. I couldn't focus much between Zach and Dodgy--Heh, yea, quite the pair I'm in the company of, eh? How the hell does that work, hm? You can check out Zach's post here. I'll post as usual from start to finish.
Oh, and if you don't get the translation from my previous blog about the note Prosper left it's: The lucky ones die first
Right, doesn't that make you feel all fuzzy inside?
I don't like planes. I really, really, seriously, don't like planes. And I really, really, seriously, hate it when people debate me on it. It's really freaking simple, heavy object in the sky, logically speaking: It. Can. Fall. I don't care about the engines, how it stays up. I really, really, seriously, don't give a flying fuck. If it goes up it comes down eventually. So me fidgeting while in line shouldn't be that surprising, the security guards gave me strange looks but whatever. I grew up on strange looks, I think, I'm pretty sure.

Going through the security check points sucked. Don't like taking off my shoes, like having something strapped to my feet. Never know when you need to run. People gave me more funny looks for my bizarre socks, idiots. Don't they have any sense of humor for the absurd things in life? I shrugged, let them scan my backpack and what not before heading to the stop. I couldn't cease myself from looking at everyone, examining them, just freaking watching. Paranoia tore at me, wanted me to examine potential threats. The unhinged control over my paranoia is something I am not happy about, the constant jitters are annoying and I am not happy to have them back. Being in an airport while having loosened control over your paranoia is not fun. I repeat: Not. Fun.

So standing in line was hell. Dealing with the employees was hell. Dealing with the other people was hell. My body was sore as hell. My temper was hell. Getting onto the plane was hell. Waiting for it to take off was hell, god, suspense kills me. I kept my bag with me, guarded by my legs. My fingers anxiously tapped at the arm rest, people passed by relieved not to be sitting next to me. Trust me, I noticed. It probably didn't help that I wasn't looking all that happy either. Stuck against the window I turned my attention to it, watching the employees work outside. It was a minor distraction to the fact that I was on a plane in the first place. When someone sat next to me I felt even more paranoid, it itched to just look them in the face and scare them into oblivion so no one was bumping elbows. I refrained, put my arm in my lap and let my mind wander in a fit of paranoia.

"Are you alright?" The voice came from my left, I felt my eye twitch and muscles tense. "You're fidgeting quite a lot." I looked his way and was greeted by messy hair, on the longer side. Stubble was upon his face which accented his style. An old leather jacket which smelled "Earthy", reminded me of a less hyped up biker. It wasn't hard to see he was muscular under the jacket, with no visible tattoos but I expected he probably had some. Frosty eyes of blue with lines around the eyes, wind-burn by his style is my guess. He wore the barest of smiles, a look of a friendly stranger. "Don't like flying?"

"I love flying." I returned before flatly adding, "Just not in planes."

His expression turned to being lightly humorous, "How else can you fly?"

"Not how," I sighed bitterly, like it was his fault for not knowing the obvious. "but where." He didn't follow, I wanted to grin honestly but refrained.


"This is your captain speaking..."

Any calmness vaporized as the captain began speaking about the flight. Flight would be commencing shortly and I was not at all excited for it. I held the arm rest near the window with both hands, once more facing away from the stranger. I thought I heard a small laugh, passed it off as a child or something in the plane. Great, we were getting ready to take off.

"I can flag down the flight attendant."

"I'll throw her out the window." I retorted without thinking, he looked mildly surprised. Can't say I blame him, probably not what you'd except to spew from my mouth. "I'll be better without her. Just need to distract myself."

 "A man is lying dead in a pool of blood and water. He has wounds but there is no weapon." I looked at him confused but his friendly smile broke out,  "How did he die?"

My fingers impatiently tapped the armrest, "Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked him in the face and he drowned in his own tears." Was the first thing that spewed, I winced at my retort which only served to amuse him.

"No, he was stabbed with an icicle." He leaned into his seat casually and beckoned me, "Your turn."

"There was a family of three moles. They lived outside a home. The family in the house was making breakfast. The father mole stuck his head outside of the hole and said, “I smell bacon and eggs”. The mother stuck her head out the hole and said, “I smell sausage and French toast”. The baby mole not able to poke his head through said, “All I smell is mole asses”." He laughed at that, I regarded him for a moment before glancing outside as the plane began moving. It was back to holding the armrest.

"Why don't you like planes?"

I shot the man a look as if he was the crazy one here. "Because planes can fall. Because I don't like being cooped up in a hot, smelly, loud piece of machinery. Because. I. Can't. Fly." I repeated and bit my lip to shut up.

I glanced out the window; he in turn leaned over and shut the blinds. "Not helping you." I shot him a glare despite knowing it was probably true. He tilted his head to glance down the isle before looking back my way with a smile curling upon his lips, "I once had an argument with a stewardess on a plane. I made the mistake of calling her stewardess. 'No, sir,' she said, 'I'm a flight attendant." I said, "Hm, actually, you're a waitress with a death wish." I covered my mouth with one hand and snickered, trying to hold back from grinning like a maniac.

 I thought through the potential riddles and remembered the exchange between y and Dodgy, my mind. Some good ones passed between them, one I decided to borrow for this instance. "Seven men were on their way to Church when it began to pour. The six that ran were soaked to the bone, but the one that did not stayed dry. How can this be?"

A grin relaxed upon his face, "Easy." He drawled with a chuckle, arrogance hinting itself.  "The six were pallbearers and the one who did not run was dead in the box they carried and therefore safe from the rain."

"Well then, your turn." I said somewhat surprised at the quick response. Went ahead and assumed it was one heard before.

His turn it was, "Kings and queens may cling to power, and the jester's got his call, but, as you may all discover, the common one outranks them all." My mind went to a monarchy, back to Medevial ranks, I wrinkled my nose at a lack of an answer. Just the clue he needed I wasn't answering. "The Ace in a deck of cards." I shook my head.

"I never was, am always to be. No one ever saw me, nor ever will. And yet I am the confidence of all, to live and breathe on this terrestrial ball. What am I?"


"Heh. Tomorrow or the future, actually."

"Gets rid of bad ones, short and tall, tightens when used, one size fits all."

"Hang em' high." I snickered already familiar with this exact one.

"A noose to be exact."

The plane rocked as it began leveling within the air. Floating upon the clouds I imagined, freaking praying we didn't fall through them. I glanced at the closed window with a shaky breath before forcing myself to focus on a new riddle. "If you touch me, I may be snared, if you lose me, nothing will matter." I paused looking over at him as he flashed an encouraging smile. 'Your heart."

His laugh was light, not something you'd find coming from someone that looked the way he did. I wasn't all that surprised, regarded him with a less aggressive nature. "I drive men mad, for love of me, easily beaten, never free." I had to take a double look at his smile, paranoia tried to feed me something else. Looking back at him the smile was friendly, a nice distraction to the tilt in the plane and the progression upwards. "Gold."

My nose wrinkled slightly at the remembrance of the blog, the reason I was even running out to North Carolina for. The threat of that creep called Dodgy and him mentioning of Zach within his blog. His sexual reference uncalled for and insulting, I dare admit my disgust surfaced if only for a moment. Fuck. Mystery knew I had to hurry out, she trusted me to get the job done and I trusted her to keep them safe. Trinity wasn't happy, Ronald--well, he's never happy. Mr. Sunshine was just... Off about it. He tried to follow I brought him back, twice. He tried to drag me back then; I had to fight him three times on that one. He tried to whine and mope and I comforted before telling him to "protect the pack", guard duty took over, heh. Feels weird being gone from them, amazing how these situations can make a short amount of time seem like an eternity. I don't like being away from everyone, I'm worried to the max but there isn't left to do. The plane was already in the air, there wasn't any going back. Looking at the man I knew it was my turn to go, "Only one color, but not one size, stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies; present in sun, but not in rain; doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What am I?" I questioned leaning into the one side of the seat to look at him more clearly. "A shadow."

The stewardess leaned down interrupting us from our riddles, the man beside me looked towards her slowly. He looked momentarily irked but the calmness that stretched across his face took away all forms of doubt. He looked at me briefly to answer if I wanted any snacks, I shook my head and he shooed off the stewardess. I caught him watching her walk away, assuming it was due to the obvious reasons. I snickered silently to myself and he got up, excusing himself to the restroom. We were flying, up high in the sky. I was stuck to the seat with a displeased scowl, silence falling over me now that I was alone. My mind pretty much overloaded with stress and I was able to just pass off as a result of it.

The building burned within the center of town, flashes of a sunny day breaking through, a grassy park before night set back in and the burning building continued crackling. Heavy breathing, slow blinking as it transitioned back and forth. The view of the building slowly turned away to look down a dark street, yellow bridge on the far end. Stumbling in first person, blinking of the eyes, transitioned back to the daylight. Children were screaming, running away and the view lowered to look at one’s self, a red stained dress, splattered arms, soaked hands, and a knife.

A hooded boy, grabbing the arm of the person. Struggling to pull away, knife jamming into his side--laying back on a table, staring into a bright light. Disoriented and dizzy, a scrubbed man raised a needle and lined it up with the vein. Vision blurred, head tilting to the left as the black hospital cross on the wall was the final thing ever seen.

Woke up to him peering out the window over me, I bit back any comments due to the fact he assisted previously. Patiently I waited as he pulled back and shut the screen so I could sit up. Turbulence hit briefly waking me up fully, I sat up in the seat like an alert animal, no doubt. From his laughing that description probably fits best. I downed some Advil to shrug off the pain in my back before relaxing the rest of the way, occasional small talk coming between the two of us until the plane landed. It was more bantering to try and distract me from our descent; afterwards he gave a short good-bye before splitting ways. I grabbed a cab to town, North Carolina, fricking green as hell but pretty. Zach sent me coordinates for a meeting, I planned to originally write a post prior to meeting him but after that message I took to memorizing my surroundings that was passed, the route back to the airport.

Ended up on a street corner, I walked the rest of the way into the woods with my backpack slung over one shoulder, knife in hand. I met Zach not all too pleased by the time I arrived; he was a bit put off by the weapon at my side. We discussed things for a bit, he wasn't at all different from the way he commented. Least I had something familiar to work with. He took enjoyment in using my nicknames for people on me, stretching the words. From an outsider's perspective it would probably appear to be awkward gibberish and light teasing insults.

That was when we were blindsided. Zach was gone from before me in a blur with another figure, they rolled a few feet away and separated, I tossed off the pack and flipped the blade around to the offense. I recognized the man who was pulling himself up, the biker jacket pulled me back to the plane and I fumed. Bullet rang past us and at Dodgy, figures stationed from within the woods the entire time. The enemy moved like a leaf in the wind, but even leaves can be vulnerable to a high speed bullet. Collapsed to his knee, knife being launched at Zach and I took off. My hand grabbed his shirt in case he tried to slip the jacket, knife meeting his throat as my shoe skidded off the floor and met him in the crotch. Force of impact and use of body weight knocked him to his back and I sat pinning him with the blade.

We secured and brought him back to Zach's home, I spent the remainder of the night speaking with my host before things became... Messy in the basement. No stranger to these things, Mystery will not be pleased but I can't afford to let someone who has been obviously watching her just walk free without any information. We have him and I intend to do what I can to protect her and the rest of them back home.


Further details are under debate on whether or not to post. We've been rather busy over here, while learning of a new place is enjoyable during the day and at night dealing with a crazy murderer is not, I still can't wait to get home. I miss my own territory and it's been just over a week. The things you people do to me.

Stay safe,


  1. What I do? Girl, you did this to yourself. You CHOSE to stick around for my...festivities.

    You also chose to accept that lap dance. Thank you for giving me something to remember from this little get-together.

    But, all said...I do have to admit that this is a bit disconcerting. I guess tonight we'll have to get a little creative.

  2. That wasn't directed towards you, tsk. I am aware I chose, I wouldn't walk away with this... Thing stalking my friend, not when we have him pinned to a table. It's not about you on that one. Nice job focusing on something that wasn't meant to be negative at all. Sigh... Let me go mope now about how nobody understands me.

    Hey now, you so kindly shooed that chick away. And people tell me I'm boring? You rejected a fucking lap dance, god. You have issues.

    In either case, it is nice exploring the area and learning about it. Getting some fresh air before locking the door at night. Should probably hop off here and get started, no?

  3. Elaine will be glad to know you're safe. Be careful.

  4. Thank you, Cam. Will do my best, you stay safe too.

  5. Those who fight monsters should be careful not to become them. I see now why you texts and phone calls have been so... sparse. I can't even imagine what information you hope to get out of this man when from his blog posts, he's clearly insane.

    Tell Zach, if he doesn't read this himself, that I can (academically) accept that torture is sometimes necessary, but at this point it's just gratuitous. He's enjoying himself... and that makes him very much like the man he's torturing. Kill him and be done with it. There's no merit in making another person suffer this long, even a monster.

  6. Home is a safe haven. I am far from home.


    I plan to, Mystery. It's been enough for a while now. He's starting to repeat himself. Nothing left to continue with.

  7. Enjoying it?

    No. No, I don't enjoy being the bad guy. I don't enjoy how this makes me feel. I'll even admit it's getting a bit gratuitous.

    But you said it yourself; he's insane. So are a lot of the other things out there. And I want this message to be loud and clear. Let no one mistake me for a coward.

    If they want to turn this into a war, I'll be happy to oblige. And if they want to play dirty, then I've got no choice but to do the same. I know I'm little better than him, at this point, believe me.

    But come tomorrow, I'll be all the better for knowing I don't have to be the one to do what needs to be done. I'll be all the better after everyone knows that if they come for me, or anyone I've chosen to watch over...

    Then they'll see something a lot uglier than they think they are.

  8. Dodgy has become repetitive now, he's been repeating himself opposed to giving anything of use. Why are we continuing? This man was cracked before, we can't crack him further for the answers. It's not working. We are just furthering this for the same reasons they do. So if you feel bad why continue?

    Look, we're ending it. When we start getting mixed up on all the variables it's clear things need to end. Zach, I think they know. If they have any form of imagination left they already know. But we are the ones still with humanity, and the humane thing now is to end this. It never should of lasted this long, dear.

  9. Feel bad? Shady, you overestimate me.

    No, no. I feel GOOD. I LOVE cutting through his flesh. Pulling out his teeth. I may not LIKE doing it, but I don't feel nearly as bad as I should. I mostly just feel like I'm sharing a little bit of the pain he's given others.

    I guess you can consider it instant karma. I don't enjoy what I'm doing. I don't WANT to do it. But while I'm doing it...I may as well indulge. I guess you can say I am a bit like them. I know myself that I've always had a lot of potential to be something really bad.

    Thing is, I don't LIKE that feeling; I feel bad because I DON'T feel bad. I feel like I SHOULD regret what I'm doing, but I just...don't. And that scares me as much as Dodgy does. Maybe even more. But that's what I'm clinging to; it's how I've made it this long without just snapping.

    He made his choices. He chose to hurt people that had done nothing to deserve it. He chose to destroy households and share pain with others. For no reason. I've done nothing but show him a little of what he's been showing others. We both stare into the abyss...but when it stares back, I don't blink. THAT'S why I'm not as bad as him. I know I could be, and I work as hard as I can not to be.

    But bottling's not healthy. I can't tell you how many times I've wished I could do this to someone else. To my own FAMILY, for God's sake. And if I don't take this chance to really cut loose...

    I'm not sure I can still say I'm better than him when this is all over.

    I guess if Hell did exist, I'd be going there. But at least I'll have the solace of knowing I did the wrong thing to the right people. Not to anyone I care for.

  10. We aren't talking any further about this here, Zach. We're putting aside the laptops, I'm pulling up a chair, and you're fucking talking. I don't care if we end up staring at one another for hours before you utter one goddamn thing. We're not doing this here, not when I can see you over the top of my laptop.

    We end this tonight, that's all I have to say. For now we discuss other matters via person.