Sunday, October 29, 2006

Summer's Journal: Sevententh Entry

My father scolded me when I first woke up this morning. There was no good morning such as yesterday, and he was upset. “That was very stupid Dawn.” I rubbed my eyes, and looked at him, “What did I do?” My mother looked at me from behind him, disappointment in their eyes, “You not only touched a mage-bane etched door, you activated traps meant to deter both vampires and werewolves. You almost died. I’m very disappointed in you, Dawn.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. His tone, his mannerisms, he was very disappointed in me. Was he ashamed of me too? He never, ever said he was disappointed with me before, and my mother didn’t even respond. “I’ll pack my things to go home.”

I began to pack my things. They got dressed, and went outside the room, probably to take care of the demon. I grabbed my pouch, and went outside, following the back hall way down. My parents could smell me, when I got to the woods, but I was going to get there faster than they would.

I ran through the woods, jumping over logs, and ducking under branches, weaving amongst the brush. I had grown up in the woods. This woods was no different than any other woods. When it became twisted by dark magic, that’s when it became a little more difficult. But it was still easy.

As I burst through the brush, I landed in the graveyard. I rushed to the door. I looked at it closely. I grabbed a piece of wood leaning against the church wall, and threw it through the stain glassed window. Shattering it. My dad was sure to have heard it.

I jumped in the window, and I saw her. She was beautiful. It was hard to take my eyes off of her. She was demonic, her body covered in demon flesh, red from head to toe. She had slender wings, and clawed feet and hands. In the middle of her forehead was a closed eye. Her eyes were bright blue, and swirling with undertones of green.

When she saw me, we stared at each other for several moments. She then hissed, and she started to run from me. I raised my arms, and roots grabbed her legs, she kept trying to claw, to get away from me. I ran towards her with the salt container, and tried to encircle her in it.

She broke free from the roots, and ran towards the stairwell, instead of heading up, she was heading downwards. I followed her, and she stood in front of a door, and she was ready to fight.

That’s when her third eye opened, where the other ones were blue and amazing, it was red, and yellow. I stared at it for a second, than its compelling ended. I was still wearing the Cats Eye Shell. She whimpered. She clawed out at me, and I threw a vial of holy water at her.

She hissed, and took a step towards me. I grabbed another vial and threw it at her. She began to sob and cry as she lunged at me. I threw salt and another vial of holy water at her. Finally she curled into a ball, and began to melt. I walked a circle of salt around her, and I started sprinkling holy water on her. She flapped her wings, and blew the salt around, and then stood in front of the door, and all the remained of her was a skeleton.

I looked at the door; there was nothing special about it. I looked again, I had to shove her skeleton out of the way, still nothing. But when I opened the door, that’s when I saw it, in the room, it was a nest. There were twenty of them. Which made sense. Especially since they all looked like eyeballs.

I walked up to one, and touched the outside of it. Whatever was inside, it moved towards my hand and tried to touch me. I looked at all of them. Giant eyeball eggs, it was the weirdest thing I had ever seen. It was also something I never had heard of before.

No demon could reproduce except succubae and incubi, and still, I’ve never heard of one using eyes to host a brood. I closed my eyes. I decided to just to be safe, in case my first attempt failed, that they would all be locked in, I made a circle of salt around each egg save one, and that one I made a semi-circle around. I kicked it in, and the embryo that was moving moments before, laid lifeless on the ground. I began to do the same thing with all the other eggs.

I began to splash holy water on it, and throw salt about the room. I triple checked the room made sure no eggs were left. My father and mother entered the church, very confused about the broken window, and the skeleton, but when they saw me, it was clear what went on. I walked by both of them.

“I’m a disappointment just let me go lie still until I finally die,” I went back to the hotel room, storming the whole time, and finally laying down on the bed, writing in this journal, tears rolling down my cheek the whole time. Both my father and mother finally arrived back here, and they tried to talk to me. I kept looking away from them, and I ignored them.

When they took me home, I made sure to leave them right away, and I came to my room, and I finished this entry. It was going to be a miserable week. At least Chris still loves me.


Saturday, October 28, 2006

Summer's Journal: Sixtenth Entry

I woke in the afternoon. It was early, and my mother and father were sitting there, holding on to one another, watching me sleep. I opened my eyes, and they both smiled. I was very confused.

I rubbed my eyes, and my makeup smeared all over them. I groaned, and I looked at them. Together they both pointed at the bathroom door, and I grabbed my bag, and I went and took care of everything that needed to be done.

Once I was clean and masked again, I walked out of the room, and looked at them. They both pointed at the window, I groaned. It was raining. I love the rain, more than any other weather, but not when I just applied my makeup.

I looked at both of them. They shrugged. I grabbed my small pouch, and a small umbrella, and I walked out into the rain, with intent to go to the church. They followed walking, holding hands in the rain.

As the forest passed by us, and the droplets from the trees hit the umbrella making loud beats. I walked slowly, the mud squishing underneath my feet. A fairy flew by. She seemed scared.

My eyes shifted. I felt pain in my stomach, I took a step back… My father and mother looked at each other. My father held me up, “Summer what’s wrong?” I groaned, “Something is demonic nearby…” There was silence for a moment. Even the rain seemed to stop.

I clutched my stomach with my free hand, and grit my teeth, and I walked forward. The further we walked down the path, the darker the wood became. It was twisted. I could tell, just by looking at, there was dark magic at work.

That’s when I heard the moans. Moans that were all too familiar to me; moans of pain and death unsettled. My tense body seemed to relax at the familiar sounds of undeath that I so cherished to hear.

I didn’t run forward, but I quickened my paces. I saw the church, it was close by, and I also saw figures stumbling about. Contained in death. I smiled. I walked forward, my eyes taking a wicked curve. My smile becoming even more wicked.

They were eyeless, but that didn’t matter to me. They would be mine. Whatever had control of them, would lose it to me. My heartbeat rose the closer I got to them. I could smell the rot.

There was a rush of blood. It filled my mouth. They would be mine. No matter what, The blood danced back and fourth on my tongue. It was my own, it was the sacrifice I had to pay. But it was worth it. They were mine.

I reached out with my necromantic hand and they shifted and stood stiff immediately. They would obey my commands. They would be my slaves. I walked closer still, blood in my mouth getting warmer with each step I took.

There was someone else playing against me. Someone else trying to control them. I pushed harder, and the blood in my mouth began to heat even further. I pushed back, they were mine! I earned them.

I pushed forward, the blood filled even further, and it began to run down my cheek, to fall onto my chest. There was another push, and I pushed back, the blood in my mouth was getting scalding. With another push, and my return push, the blood became unbearable, and I spat the boiling blood out of my mouth.

The zombies began to move. They were no longer mine. I took a step back, now I was upset. Tears filled my eyes… I wanted them. I concentrated again, and there seemed to be a bubble around them. Whoever it was, had to see them… But I wanted them first. They should be mine. I am the queen…

I concentrated again and my blood once again filled my mouth, but the bubble was too strong. My eyes narrowed, and I realized I couldn’t get them, but if I couldn’t have them, no-one could. I grabbed one after another with my necromantic hand. Their decay happened almost instantaneously, dropping into a pile of dust and goo. I looked for the source, whoever it was, was now going to die.

In the window I saw her. She was demonic, her skin red, and she had an eye in middle of her forhead, and horns, she ran from the window, her ebony hair flowing behind her. I ran for the door, and when I touched it, I blacked out.

When I woke, I wrote down what happened. Looking back now, I see that maybe it was a little greedy of me to want them like I did… But… I can’t explain it, they had to be mine…

My mom and dad are both sound asleep, maybe I should get some sleep too, and tell them what I saw.


Friday, October 27, 2006

Summer's Journal: Fiftenth Entry

The moment I walked in the door from school today, my father was standing there, “We are going to France; it may be a couple of days.” I inquired, “Something need to die?” He nodded. I went up to my room and I began to pack my bag. My father opened the door to my room and threw me a necklace. It was a cat eye shell.

My eyes widened, “Dad, this doesn’t allow me much room to believe it is killable. You’ve never handed me something like this.” He blinked once, and left the room. That’s when I heard yelling. It was my mother.

“Why does she have to come, we don’t even know what this thing is!” I shrunk down onto my bed. My mother never yells. Just once, and it was a long time ago. “Where’s your mother?!” My father responded. “I don’t know! But she’s still a child, and this thing could be even out of your league.” That’s not very good. “That’s why she needs to come! What if this thing is a necro? Do you want to get ripped apart by an undead army?!” “She’s my daughter! She’ll stay here where it is safe!” “She’s a young woman; I think it’s her choice.” My mother stayed quiet, “She’s my little girl.” My father responded with, “She’s my little girl too, but she has to grow up!”

“You know Janus, if we ask her, do you know what that will put her though?! She could never choose! You’re being irresponsible.” My father was the one who was quiet this time, “I trust her abilities.” My mother screamed at him again, “Are you saying I don’t trust her!? Are you saying I can’t trust in my daughter’s abilities?” My father didn’t respond. My mother growled and screamed at him, “Nothing to say then Janus? Come on, you were always so quick witted when we weren’t wed, let’s hear your response!” My father didn’t say anything again.

I sat down on my bed, the tears flowed from my eyes, and I felt sick to my stomach, I don’t like when my parents fight. That’s when I heard my mother’s sob echoed throughout the house, “I’m so sorry… Janus… Please… I love you… I didn’t mean it.” My father didn’t respond. I peeked out of my door, and I saw my mother resting her head against his chest.

I didn’t understand. My father stroked her cheek, “I love you too.” She began to speak softer, and I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I withdrew my three day bag. Then I took my pouch off my side, and I emptied its contents onto my black sheets.

I had restocked on wolfs bane, but I don’t think I’d need it. I had four vials of holy water. I had a salt shaker, and a salt carton. A silver cross and a silver pentagram, I laid them gently upon my bed. I withdrew my special box, I grabbed a vial of sand from the holy land, blessed by a saint. I withdrew my salamander wand.

I shoved all of my objects back in the side pouch, and I grabbed my three day bag, and I took a step outside my door. My mother and father were gone. I walked down to the library; she was laying on him, sobbing softly still.

Once I took a step inside, she rose from him, and kissed his cheek softly. He spoke softly into her ear, and she nodded, “We are almost ready to go Summer. You do not have to go if you don’t want to. I would understand.”

I looked at my mother. She looked away from me as soon as she knew I was going to look at her. I looked to my father, who looked away, “I am your child,” I responded, “If it is both of your wishes, I will go with you.”

My mother nodded and my father nodded. Why had she given up so easily? She was so strong, and so sure, what had he done that made her give up? Had I not seen it? He wasn’t right, was he?

My father and mother went into their room and grabbed a bag each, and my father took both of our hands, and we appeared in a dark alleyway in France. My mother took both my father and my bags and went to fetch us a hotel room. He took me; we were going to do research.

In text, there was nothing. No clues. No hints. Not even a direction. Finally after an hour of searching through text and text of French newspaper, he said, “This is getting us nowhere.” I responded, “Mais oui, mon pere… I mean, Yeah, this is pretty pointless.”

We split up. Town was safe, and we began to ask around. If I wasn’t as fluent as French as I was, it would have been difficult. This was what I found out.

Ten people went missing. Only one returned, and the one that did had their eyes ripped out. He didn’t last through the night, and died from loss of blood. He was mumbling about a run down castle and a word I knew very well. Zombie. But my question was, why was he not ripped apart? Someone was controlling them. Also, his eyes had been pulled out, not ripped or clawed out.

At the local doctor’s office, I saw my father so I backed off, while he worked his magic. I went back to the library and looked at the maps of the area; there was a small run down castle about two miles into the forest. It was once a church, and a graveyard.

That means it can’t be a demon, demons can’t go on hallowed ground. It could be a necro, but only my salamander wand could tell that. I went to the hotel room. I knocked and my mom opened the door.

“I found some stuff out, but I’ll wait for dad. Mom, why did you give up?” She looked at me, “Because I was wrong, dear. I was wrong.” I looked at her, confused, “But you were right.” “No, don’t worry about it, yes mam.”

When my father returned, we exchanged information. We both found out the same things. We would go out tomorrow, and start searching our greatest lead, the abandoned church.


Thursday, October 26, 2006

Summer's Journal: Fourtenth Entry

I am not my father; I am not my father. Today I almost died. I almost killed myself. It wasn’t my fault though. Not my fault at all. It couldn’t be my fault.

It was my father’s fault. It was at school. Chris and I were sitting together at lunch. He was working on a paper and I was helping him. Then he became incredibly quiet. Almost like her was trying to keep a secret from me. His movements all hinted that he had something to hide.

I reached out to him, “Chris what’s wrong?” “Nothing Summer, I just want to keep working on the report. What is a good word for good?” “Superior. But you knew that, what are you hiding?”

He looked at me, and I looked at him, giving him the evil eye. He revealed his finger. It had blood running down it. It had been cut by a piece of paper. My eyes shifted. I looked up to him.

“Why wouldn’t you show me this?” I asked. He looked down and pleaded, “Summer.” I hushed my voice, but I screamed in whispers, “What is that supposed to mean!? Are you trying to say I can’t resist the urge to bite your finger just because I am part vampire?”

I grabbed his finger and held it near my nose. The blood scent filled my nostrils and I whimpered as I pulled it towards my mouth. I don’t know what his reaction must have been, but he had to be scared. When my lips touched his finger, and I felt his pulse…

My lips quivered a drop of blood touched my lips and my tongue left my mouth, seeking his finger. I wanted the crimson substance, I wanted it. I felt heat fill my body, I felt my eyes seek heat. My mouth wanted to bite the finger, my tongue to taste the blood.

I kissed his finger, the blood smeared my lips.

“-mer. Summer…” It shocked me awake. I realized what I was doing. I quickly retracted and wiped my lips clean of his blood. I quickly covered his finger with the napkin. I put water in my mouth and swished and spat, the light coppery color splashed on the ground.

A tear dropped from my eye. He wiped it away. He kissed my cheek softly. “Summer,” he said softly, his words spoke for him. He wanted me to know it was okay, that everything would be okay.


Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Summer's Journal: Thirtenth Entry

Un-rest. It’s a word that may not seem to make much sense, but it makes perfect sense to me. It’s sort of like Undead, except I had nothing to do with it. Un-rest is a word I just made up for the specific reason to describe what happened to me last night.

Let’s start with blaming my friend Jeremy. Yesterday he was talking about zombies (he’s a fellow goth and is very human). Now to me zombies are something to be controlled, something that whether it is virus or necromancy I will never, ever have to worry about. To him they are an army he must prepare for and deal with.

The second source of blame will have to be my cousin, and his would be girlfriend Michelle. I had seen them together yesterday. It was only brief, but they were speaking, Brendan seemed distracted, and usually Michelle was his center of attention. I also blame Melville’s Moby Dick.

The third source I blame myself, because sometimes my thoughts don’t work in unison as well as they could. So I the thoughts I blame specifically, are the little shop in middle of the mall, the picture I once saw of a geisha, and my body makeup for wanting candy.

Back to un-rest. Un-rest is when you go to sleep at night and your body sleeps but your mind does not. The best way I can describe it is, your eyes are closed, your bodily functions slow down as if you were sleeping, your brain goes into a deep sleep, but you are still conscious.

The first dream I had to live through was a dream where Jeremy and I somehow were held up in a mall of some sort and there were zombies trying to get in, and there were zombies in the mall we had to eliminate. Our resources; A crane, a bunch of heavy metal boxes, him, I, several other people, a bow, a shotgun, a rapier. What I lacked? Magic. So suddenly, I was a human, with a rapier, trying to battle fifty zombies at once. It was like a video game. The first time we were outside trying to get into the mall. I died.

The second time we were in the mall and trying to defend it. I died. The third time I was operating the crane. I failed with its controls, and I died. The fourth time, I was able to kill several before I died. The last time for that dream, I killed several, and Jeremy killed several, we locked the place down, and somehow, I died. I don’t know what it was, but I wasn’t very good. I need magic. I am a frail little china doll.

The second dream, took place on a boat, or more a floating island. There was a graveyard, and I was in a radio booth. So was Brendan and Michelle. There were three mics and it was 4 in the morning. We were taking turns telling scary stories. (I was human again.) Michelle went first, hers involved the graveyard on the island, and guess what? Zombies. The main character was a girl, and plop, instantly I was in the graveyard. Trying to escape her dead family; cue Mom, Dad, Aunt Page, and Uncle Rapier. Who were zombies, and began to walk at me. She spoke and actions happened, I was running from them I tripped, and got mauled by zombies. That’s right, I hope I’m not the only one keeping track, That’s six deaths. Then I was back in the radio booth, and my cousin began. I was back in the graveyard, but this time, I was being chased by a werewolf (usually I had an answer for werewolves, but Brendan couldn’t allow that) and it involved a chase through the woods, and then finally getting ripped apart. That’s seven.

My narration of my scariest story put me still in the story, I was fishing, and somehow was dragged into the water, made it onto a boat, and I was conversing with people, and then a giant white whale broke the boat, and I slowly drowned Self induced number 8.

I then shifted into the next dream, where it was in the mall, and a sweet older asian man was trying to sell candy, and a rich girl walked up, and bought two thousand dollars worth. He was ecstatic. His wife leapt up and down for joy. Then the woman, who was a geisha, began eating it. It made her really happy, strickening her with a euphoria. She fainted. And for some reason I picked her up and I set her on a chair. Her ear caught my attention because the makeup was so interestingly done. It was different shades of purple hightlighting and giving her ears some color and shape.

Then I went and bought candy. The old asian man began to beep like an alarm. I woke up, dead to the world. Full of un-rest. Sometimes I wonder why I bother sleeping. I can save money on makeup by using the black circles under my eyes as a skull design.

Whatever. I have to go to school.


Monday, October 23, 2006

Brendan 1

Ok, so I really think keeping a journal is gay, but my aunt said I should. Something about it helps keep the mind clean…or clear…or something like that anyway. So here I sit, with a blank screen and no idea what to write.

I guess I should start with the facts. I’m sixteen years old, and I’m on the school’s track team. Oh, I’m also a lupine, if anyone wanted to know. School is pretty boring, but I like going only cause I get to see my friends and I get to run for track. My cousin, Summer, hates going to school, it’s just cause she’s been reading since before the womb.

Nothing really happens in school. Classes are pretty easy so far. Last week, maybe it was the week before…or was it last month? Anyway, sometime back when school was just starting, I think we’d been in school for a few weeks, maybe not. I don’t know. Well some football jackass decided to get me mad and I got into a fight. That’s pretty regular. I can’t remember the first time I got into a fight. I think I won…maybe? It’s not really important. Actually, I think the first fight I got in was back in

So, back to what I was talking about. I was at school and I was waiting for my cousin, maybe it was Chris…what ever. Maybe I wasn’t waiting…So I was at lunch and I saw this girl walking around the quad. I’d never seen her before. She was blonde and beautiful. Curvy, but still thin. She wore glasses, almost like she was hiding behind them. She didn’t want people to see how beautiful she was. And behind the glasses…she had the most electric blue eyes. Every time I looked at her, her eyes felt like they were pulling on me. It was when I first laid eyes on her I decided I needed to know her. Me, being the nice guy I am, I decided to go up and introduce myself. Funny thing, I can remember the conversation almost perfectly…

She’d tripped, or dropped her binder or something, so I helped her pick up some of her papers. I asked her if she was alright and when she answered…Her voice was so perfect. I don’t know. It seems like such a pansy thought, but it sounded kinda lyrical.

"Yes, I'm not usually this clumsy… Honestly… Its my first day at a new school.” She had hesitated, or paused… "I'm Sarah… Who are you?"

So I told her my name and then, being so suave, I offered to show her around the campus. I grabbed my bag and started the Campus tour. I’ve practiced and mastered this action. It’s almost a sure thing to get a girl to like me. It actually startled me. I’d just met this girl and already I wanted her to be my girlfriend. Ten minutes ago the only girl I could think about was Michelle, but hey, must be some kind of magnetism or something. I started pointing at random buildings and told her which ones they were. Every time I looked at her, her eyes were screaming at me…or maybe it was just me…but it seemed like she wanted me to kiss her. Yeah, I think that was just me.

After I finished telling her where all the classes were, we ended up in an empty hallway. I tried so hard to be good, but I couldn’t any more. I leaned in to kiss her and…the bell rang. I’d never hated hearing that bell so much as I did right then. Kids, including some of my friends, started coming into the hallway so I offered a quick goodbye and decided to take off before I made a fool of myself in front of everyone. She said something as I was leaving and it took all my control to not turn around and do what I had told myself not to.

"Hopefully Sooner, than later,"

Something about her…she just seems so different. So much more special then the other girls at school. Is it so wrong of me to want to date her? No. It is not…I’m 16 years old, I’m allowed to want who ever I want. Right? Right…


Sunday, October 22, 2006

Summer's Journal: Twelth Entry

Last night I received a voice mail. It was from my cousin and it seemed panicked. My cousin scarcely ever calls me because we see each other so much, and more then anything he never, ever loses his cool. “Summer… I… I took the wrong dare and now I’m stuck with it. Please, please, please come here and help me out. 827 Main Street.’

827 Main Street. I don’t remember much of anything about the building. No stories of it being haunted, and I would know. I am the one who everyone walks up to and says, “Hey, creepy goth girl. You hear about that haunted house down on fifth?” or “Last night I saw this light in my closet, it swept through my door and laid over me like a mist, what was it?”

I made my way to my Aunt’s house. When I arrived, Aunt Page was there to greet me, “He called me… Told me not to come, what’s going on Summer?” I shrugged, and I reached into my side satchel. I was missing wolfsbane and salt. I calmly went to Aunt Page’s cupboard and grabbed out a carton of salt, “Wolfsbane?” I asked.

She tapped her foot impatiently, “I’m sorry. I was just asking. I’m a frail little girl remember?” She responded with, “Your mother lets you carry around poison?” I looked around the cupboard again. “Where is it?” I asked impatiently.

“He keeps it downstairs; you have to tell me if my son is okay.” I hugged her tightly, “He’s fine. Just scared. You have to remember, Brendan can’t be hurt physically. Which is why I am hurrying over. He’s not going to leave, and if you go over, you’ll break him.”

I went downstairs and grabbed two vials of holy water. Aunt Page looked at me in tears in her eyes. “Aunt Page, calm down,” I responded, “I think it’s just a spirit. So calm down. If it is, it’s an easy in out. I’m not going to keep him waiting any longer.”

October evenings were always cold, and this one seem colder. With my hurried pace and quickened puff of air escaping my lips, it was surreal as I went softly into that good night.

I arrived at Main Street and I began to descend in numbers, 859. A couple blocks passed by. At the end of the third one, I saw what would be 827. It was a building surrounded by black grate fence. Standing in front there were three boys laughing, pointing at the building. I ducked into the alley, and went behind the building. There was a break in the grate, and I entered the grounds.

The window that was broken was boarded up with a piece of particle board. I shoved forward. Pushing harder and harder and it gave out. I landed with a thud on the other side avoiding the nails with some degree of luck. I rose.

This place was dusty, dank, and there were black beetles. I hate when there are black beetles. I reached into my pouch, grabbed out my flashlight and began to search around. My batteries died. I quickly grabbed my cell, and I dialed Brendan’s number. Then my phone shut off.

“Help me…” A voice said in my ear, when I turned I saw the edge of a white dress. I live with ghosts. Over fifty, to be exact, only four are intelligent. The rest are full body repeaters. The one is simply called Stomper. He lives a floor above me, and once in awhile he’ll stomp down the halls at night. There are two others, the twins, I call them. They leave toys on the stairs. I’ve had a few bloody noses because I forgot to look and they tripped me up on a car or anything. The last is Ol’Drunky, and he’s in the basement. He throws bottles at people who drink.

So some white lady ghost isn’t going to freak me out, and I don’t know why Brendan was having such a hard time with it. I had no choice but to go up the stairs. The next floor was far more decrepit then the first. I began to walk down the hall, and behind me I heard echoes of my footsteps.

I turned and standing there was a shade. He was mostly skeletal, and he had shining red eyes, he growled at me. I reached into my bag, and went for the salt. Then he vanished and I felt a blade against my skin. It pushed in on my arm pain went through it. The black beetles began to crawl up my legs. I leapt backwards and went into a full run to the stairwell at the other end of hall. I felt the footsteps following me.

When I got to the end I grabbed the salt and made a line. I ran up the stairs. Not frantic, but because this shade but because this shade could cut me. He began to beat at the line, and when I arrived at the top of that staircase, I saw Bredan. He was sitting curled into a ball.

“Brendan?” When he looked up I saw rotten flesh, and decay. It wasn’t Brendan. The spirit went back to sulking. I called his name louder, “Brendan!” I felt a tap and there was a loud “Boo!”

I slapped his arm, five or six times.

“Brendan! What’s wrong?!”

“I’ve got to go up two other floors, and the next floor up there is a flag.”

“A flag?” I asked impatiently.

“Yes. Look, Summer, I know you can’t understand this, but they dared me to, I can’t not do it.”

“Why did you call me?”

“Because you thought that shade the next floor down was bad, wait until you see the next floor up.”

“What is it Brendan?”

“The Psych ward.”

“Brendan. This was a hospital?”


I walked down the hall slowly, and he was following me. I began to walk up the stairs. Step by step. Inch by Inch. That’s when I saw them. The whole floor was hopping with activity. The walls were covered in blood. Dripping from the ceiling.

“Nice place Brendan.”

He responded with, “You’re a necromancer, get the ghosts to listen to you.”

“Go in against a spirit who may be a lot older and smarter than me and suffer a possession. Good plan Brendan. You know how to run, right?”

“I’m on track.”

“Brendan, what is it really?

He sucked in a deep breath, “I’m just really freaked out Summer, I don’t deal with these things as well as you do, okay?”

I took his hand in mine and began to walk. The floor began to move up and down like a wave, and I kept walking. It passed through my legs, as things began to be thrown at me. I gritted my teeth as an object smashed into the side of my face. As I walked, I began to see what was causing it. There was a little girl at the end of the hallway. I grabbed out the vial of holy water… But now it was a grenade and the pin had been pulled.

I took a deep breath. Brendan began to try and get away from me. I began to shake the grenade at her, and acid splashed out of it, and struck not only her, but Brendan and I. I watched my skin melt and felt the pain, but kept splashing it towards her.

“The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;
Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.”

All this time the whole world seemed to rise up against me, the floor, the rugs, everything became some twisted form of reality and seemed to want to end my existence. The most violent was a blanket that became a pile of goo and covered my whole body. I found it hard to breath even though I knew it was just an illusion.

Once I had finished the prayer, and anointed the spirit with holy water, it vanished with a scream. I tugged on Brendan, but he didn’t move. I slapped him, and pulled him as hard as I could. I had to drag him. Once I arrived at the stairs it was clear the ghost had gotten to him more than me. I may be able to deal with psychotic attacks and mental stranglings, but my cousin could not.

“Brendan,” I asked, “Brendan are you there?”

His breaths became deep and he tried to get away from me, “Its Summer. Your cousin.”

His voice came out deep seated and hateful, “I’m fine!” He opened his eyes and they were red.

I reached into my bag and I grabbed my silver cross, “Here hold onto this for a moment.”

When I put it in his hand he began to yell, scream and roar. I ran up the stairs, and grabbed his damn flag. He had better appreciate that. I grabbed the cross from his hand. I laid him down on the floor, and I made a circle of salt around us.

“Take a nap,” I said as I pushed a piece of holy-wafer into his forehead.

I opened his mouth and I spoke, “What is your name?” I pushed on his chest, and what escaped was a roar of sorts, but it was clearly words, “Jacob Ericson.” This wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought it would. Thankfully it wasn’t a demon.

I straddled my cousin’s waist… I knew it was going to be disgusting before I even did it. I opened his mouth, and naturally his breath stunk, I put my open mouth near his and I slammed my hands on his chest screaming, “Enter me!” When it struck the back of my mouth I fell backwards on the ground, and physically that was all I remembered. Mentally however, this was far from over.

In the black realm of my mind, a man stood, he was much bigger than I was, and we were staring at each other. He swung his fist and connected with my jaw, and I went spinning and falling to the vivid fog that was my mind, and I felt tired.

I looked at him. I shoved on him and it scarcely moved him. Somehow I knew it was going to be terrible. When he shoved me to the ground and began to kick me, I figured it was over. The things I do for my cousin. I concentrated on the strongest person I could think of. My father. What would he do.

He’d hit the spirit. A sword appeared in my hand, and the spirit took a step back. This was my mind after all. I brought the sword around and removed his head. From the body exploded light.

“Be gone!” I yelled. I had vocalized it. I was lying on the couch at my aunt’s house. Brendan had a damp rag on my forehead.

“Summer is that you?”

“Who else would it be?”

“I thought he had gotten you.”

“He did Brendan, but apparently, my will was stronger.”


Thursday, October 19, 2006

Summer's Journal: Eleventh Entry

Chris put his arm around my waist, and pulled me up against him. My body was pressed tightly against his, and he forced his lips onto mine. I didn’t fight of course. I wanted to kiss him just as bad. From my lips he moved to my jawbone, from my jaw to my upper neck, and then my mid neck, and then right above my collar bone. My body squirmed, without my control; a soft sound escaped my lips, as he held the back of my head, and laid me on the ground. He lightly ran his fingers along my fishnetted side invoking a tingling pleasurable feeling that radiated through my entire body. He lay over top of me, and we met lips again. I wanted to be his…

Then I woke. My body was sore and aching as if I had just ran a marathon, and the adrenaline was still flowing, even though my body was doing nothing. There was a sweat on my forehead, beaded up from it seems hours of physical labor. But it was just a dream; but what a dream. My pillow was marked with black lipstick marks from not having removed my makeup last night.

I squirmed in bed, frustrated by what had transpired in my dream, and how my body was now acting because of the dream. I looked at my clock, it was 5:47. I rolled out of bed, and I collapsed to the floor. I remember that clearly because I landed on a heel and it hurt. I made my way to my bathroom, doused my face in water and washed the makeup off. I felt cooler, but the frustration was still there.

I rubbed my temples, and took a shower. After that I redid my makeup. I wore the outfit I wore in the dream. It was a tube top covered by a fishnet shirt, with black half gloves, I painted my nails black, and I threw on a black peasant dress with fishnet stocking and boots. My makeup was simple, white with darkened eyebrows and Egyptian eyes with crimson red lipstick.

Then I went to school. At school, all throughout history, I rubbed my nails on his back, barely touching, letting him know I was there, I drew designs on his back, some were hearts, others letters. Some were simple little circles. I closed my eyes, tried to stop, but when I did that I found my soft running my nails along him even more lightly, just the lightest sensation of touch.

After class he waited for me, “We have to go to the quad,” he spoke. I followed him, staying only inches behind him. Once we were outside he led me to a small garden I call it a garden because there were dieing potted flowers and a simple tree, and he put his arm around my waist and pulled me towards him, and our lips almost met.

“Hey Chris!” a boy ran up to us, “What are you doing with her?

Chris let go of me, and I took a step back. It was hard to transcend and ascend social standings in high school. How wrong is it that since I am a goth and he is a jock we can’t have an open relationship?

He rather impatiently said, “Come with me,” to his friend. He led him to the side of the nearest building, and I concentrated and blood filled my mouth. One of the dead insects rose from its bed and decay and flew on decrepit wings to where they were. It landed and I merged its consciousness with my own. Insects cannot understand human words, but a human listening from a insects point of view can.

“Dude, did she cast a spell on you? That girls a real witch or something.”

“No. I’ll have you know, that girl and I are dating. It was totally my choice. So back off.”

“Dude she’s a freak.”

He grabbed the kid by the shirt and shoved him against the wall, “You don’t know her! You know nothing about her! Don’t act like you know her!”

“Whatever man, she has to have some witch curse on you.”

Chris lost his cool, and began to scream profanity at him. I don’t remember exactly what was screamed because I was paying attention to his actions, he shoved the boy against the wall, and the boy began to get red in the face.

“Just freaking back off!” Chris screamed.

“Find dude, whatever…”

The boy walked away. I broke consciousness, and the blood in my mouth went away, but a line had fallen from the corner of my mouth. Chris walked back over, and he was so peeved with frustration and anger he was shaking.

I took his hand in mine, and I pulled him gently to the ground. I pulled his head to my shoulder, and I stroked his cheek, and hushed him. I don’t remember if he was crying, but if he was it didn’t matter to me.

I whispered softly, words with only meaning he could understand. Soft lucid tones meeting his emotion and seeking to bring him peace, after awhile he began to calm down, I kissed his forehead.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“For what?” He asked mellowed and with a voice that echoed the harmony of defeat.

“For defending me,” I said softly into his ear.

He sobbed one last time, and I kissed his forehead, “You are amazing,” my eyes had to be sparkling when I said that to him. I hope they were so he knew what I meant.

I held him until the end of the period and once the bell rang, we parted.

I love him so.


Monday, October 16, 2006

Summer's Journal: Tenth Entry

Ever have a day when every little thing that happened, was so annoying, and it wasn’t even that thing’s fault. Today was one of those days. I woke up in the morning, and somehow, my bathroom door was left open, and the sun was just at the right angle so it hit my mirror which therefore guided the sun to hit me in the face.

It was a grumpy wake up at 6:30 in the morning. I went to do my makeup. My ruby AND black lipstick were out. All I had was royal blue and royal purple. That annoyed me. So I had to go to my mom and dad’s room, wake him up because my heartbeat sounds like bass drums to him, and him jumping up, woke my mother up, who released a low growl in her throat.

They were even more annoyed when they realized I just needed mom’s crimson red lipstick. I stole it, and went up to the rest of my makeup. My fishnets were all dirty. I had to wear my silken covers. So I sported a short skirt that was wired, and I wore a halter top, covered by that silken layer. I naturally, instead of wearing my regular black shoes, opted for the hooker boots, as my cousin, so affectionately calls them.

I used my necklace to get to my cousins, and when I arrived there only Lara was up, and she was in one of her dark moods. Her blonde hair had been died black, and her blue eyes were bright red. She stared at me hungrily. I rolled my eyes.

“Lara. You can’t scare me.”

She smiled, revealing her fangs. She leapt forward. I rolled to the side, and I ran back to my Aunt’s room. Once I was there, I leap over them, and Lara did to. She hit the wall behind them, and my Uncle leapt up. I kicked off the wall nearest the bed, and landed on the bed on top of my aunt, and Lara leapt down towards me. I rolled off and landed on my uncle’s swords.

They didn’t cut me, but their hilts were so rounded and pronounced, it hurt terribly. She hissed, and leapt towards me again. I held my boot towards her, and when her face struck my boot, I heard an ungodly crack, and she fell to the ground.

“…bloodlust!” Was the end of what my uncle said.

“I know what she was in,” I said annoyed, “I was hoping you’d help… That’s why I ran back here.”

I knelt next to Lara, and cradled her in my arms as she cried. I went to retrieve the blood in the kitchen with her in my arms. My Aunt Page groggily came out, and she grabbed Lara from me, as I held the blood pack to her mouth. She bit down, and with several snaps, (which made my spine hurt hearing them) she moved her head, and laid it on my aunt’s shoulder.

I sighed as the adrenaline wore off, and I felt the pain in my ribs, from where the hilts bruised them. I sighed, and collected my book bag. As I walked to school, there were no happy birds or animals, or even people moving about. Something was off about today.

Little did I know I would find out exactly what it was as the school day progressed. The teachers chose today to hassle me about everything. Ask me questions that my pride wouldn’t let me not answer.

It was at lunch, I was going to sit with Chris, when I hit a wall, and it knocked me back a step. It wasn’t a normal wall, it was a wall of salt. I turned and when I went to go the opposite way, I met another wall, apparently, whoever set this up was nearby, and a genius. Because the only way they allowed me to was away from campus, and like an idiot I followed the path. When I got to the other end, there was a circle. It was about four foot in diameter, and as soon as I stepped into, the person made themselves known.

He was a man, and he had me trapped in my own common trick. It was a circle of salt, and I was stuck in it. So rather than try to beat out like I know he wanted, I sat down.

“Hello Sir, any particular reason why I am trapped in this circle of salt?” I sighed and leaned back, I might as well make the best of a bad situation, right?

“You’re a black witch.” I nodded, “Yeah, I guess I am. Its nice of you to waste time and money to get me trapped here, but do you mind letting me out?” “No witches will get to escape.” “You’re, illuminati?” “No, I’m Harad Conrad. I’m a witch hunter.” I nodded, “So, how am I going to die? You’ve clearly got me at the disadvantage.”

I don’t get upset over things like this. My dad made me immune to pretty much all forms of fear when it comes to madman trying to kill you. He’s seen it all. He passed on the stories to me.

“You deserve death.” “Can’t say I disagree with you sir. But I am a necromancer, it would probably end with me becoming a Lich, and that would only be terrible.” “Lich?” He asked. This one was a fast mad-man. Usually they are so learned in their subjects they never need to be told anything. “Yes. A Lich is an undead witch. We both don’t want that.”

He thought for a second, that’s when he withdrew his weapon. It was a scythe, and all the scythe blades were an extension on the trinity moon. Now that was bad. But rather than let him know I was terrified I played it cool.

“Nice. I would be honored to be killed by such a weapon, do it quickly, before I repent.” “No. You deserve a slow and painful death.” “Ouch, I scarcely think we’ve met, what did I do that was so terrible to you?” “Your people destroyed my family, killing my children and my wife.” “I assure you sir, I had nothing to do with such an act. I raise dead, I don’t make them.”

He muttered something, and the circle of salt began to glow brightly. Green light shot up in a line and the circle began to hum. He walked away after doing that. I walked toward the circle, but the four foot diameter had closed in to be 3’10. I watched it, after a moment it began to glow, and it shrunk again, 3’4’.

I quickly grabbed my cell phone I dialed Brendan’s number, but I got no answer. I dialed Chris’s number, and received no answer. The circle shrunk again, and my cell phone dropped just out of it. I huffed, as the circle closed, 3’0 it was getting a little cramped inside.

At 2’10, I was starting to panic, I couldn’t move. I didn’t scream, how odd would it be for someone to see me in the position I was on. It shrunk again, 2’5 this time, and my body was beginning to push up against the walls. When it felt my body resisting it shrunk again to 2’0. I felt even more compacted. It felt my resistance and upped the ante. 1’5. I was not feeling well in a very confined place. It shrunk again and at 1’2, My bones in my shoulder we beginning to want to give. Every inch of my body exposed touched the circle. Then it stopped. I fell to the ground, it had picked me up somehow. I looked for why it had stopped.

Chris was there. He was looking at me. I must have looked a mess. I quickly fixed myself and I smiled at him. He knelt next to me, and supported my aching back with his arm. He leaned down to kiss me, and I leaned up to kiss him.

“You called Summer?” Brendan asked as he walked up to me. Chris dropped me out of shock, and my head hit the soft earth. I sat up, and shot him the stare. He took a step back, then I stared at Brendan, and he took a step back.

“Do we answer our cell phones?” I asked impatiently.

“We came looking didn’t we?” Brendan pleaded.“Yes…”

Chris knelt down next to me, “Come on… Let’s get you away from here.”

I held his hand and we walked back to the school. Brendan tagged along behind, and he walked next to me.

The icing on the cake was when I went home, my mother had prepared dinner, and she didn’t often do that. It was bland, and the flavor was not vivid. My dad salted his heavily, and my mom did to. She looked at me, “Salt your meal Babydoll, I didn’t add enough.”

“No thanks mom… I’m just not in the mood for salt.”


Saturday, October 14, 2006

Summer's Journal: Ninth Entry

My mother and father had a tiff today. I say a tiff, because when they actually fight, it’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard or seen in my life. Singular; I had only ever seen them fight once, and it was a terrible event. I was younger, and when they fought I ran up stairs, and hid in a room, and I could still hear them. They were breaking things.

Whoever reads this, I want you to not think any less of my parents because of their fight when I was younger. But they never really fight, except that one time. Today was a tiff. It was a pointless argument. I think it was about a woman.

When it comes to my dad and women it is clearly a need to survive basis. But if I was my mother I would be upset with him too. When my father feeds from a woman he with the exchange of blood gains that person’s memories. Likewise he cannot distinguish the difference between the people of his own memory and the people of the woman’s.

I think he called my mother Emily and she hadn’t realized he fed. So naturally she thought it was one of the many women of his very long drawn out past. The fight went something like this. “What did you just call me?” “Jesse.” “No you called me Emily!” “No… I called you Jesse.” “Damnit Janus, you always do this to me? Who don’t I compare to this time? Who is it in your past that you wish I was?” “Jesse! I wish you were Jesse!” “Am I not Jesse enough for you?!”

The rest of the fight can’t be continued until my family is revealed. At the head of my family is my father, Janus. He is the masthead in which the ship that is the O’Ciardha’s sails. Whenever anything happens in my family, and a decision has to be made that affects the entire family, he is the one to make it. He’s a little under two thousand years old, a vampire who has earned the respect of so many people.

My mother is Jesse. She fell in love with my father when she was seventeen, and over the period of six years, she fell deeply in love with him. For him to fall in love with her, she had to nearly hit him over the head with a truck. When he did, he fell deeply; deeper than he ever had. She’s a werewolf.

My godmother is Aurora Dawnsfire, more commonly known as Thousand Faces. She is my Godmother because when my mother was a child she was tossed overboard off of a boat, and Aurora found her. She took care of her as a mother would a child, and did so without question. Forever, the only family my mother has was Aurora. And without Aurora, I wouldn’t even be here. As the world knows, vampires cannot have children, and much less could they have children with a werewolf if they could. But Aurora made my father human for an hour. Enough time for me to be conceived.

The only Grandparent I have is my great grandfather, “The Beast” O’Ciardha. He’s the leader of the O’Ciardha clan. It contradicts what was previously written about my father, but as far as werewolves in my family go, “The Beast” is the alpha. But I’ve never actually met the man.

My Aunt Page is my mother’s twin sister. She fell overboard the boat with my mother, but was saved, and she was raised by my grandmother. She’s the alpha. Period. She beat my mother in a fight for control of clan in what they call the dark years, and she’s been the alpha ever since.

My Uncle Rapier is my aunt’s ‘husband’. He’s a dhampir. A half vampire. He’s around four hundred years old, I think. He doesn’t know himself. He’s one of the most heavily trained people with a blade in the world. Like my father, to have Brendan, he was changed to be human by Thousand Faces.

Brendan is my cousin, he and I are like twins. We spend a lot of time together, we can finish each other’s sentences, and we love each other very much. He’s a wolfblood. That means he is going to become a werewolf, but is not one yet.

I’m Summer Dawn. I’m interesting. I’m a hybrid, but somehow, neither dhampir or wolfblood, but instead a necromancer.

My Aunt Page’s pack consists of the nicest largest strongest giant a man could ever meet, Blackback is his name. Jon is in the group, Jon is a computer geek, and he’s a sweet guy who keeps to himself. Eagleeye is the sniper of her pack, and he never speaks, he just watches. Thersea is my Aunt’s Foil. She is the member of the pack that seemed to join just to cause my Aunt grief. But as her daughter, Taryn grew up, so did she. Taryn and Brendan have a spark in their relationship, but they never pursued it. Taryn is five years older than us (that is, Brendan and I.)

My father in the situation was now staring my mother down, and my mother was staring my father down. There was silence. As was demonstrated about my father, he is the head of the family, so I watched this exchange with some sort of twisted glee. I wanted to see if the pecking order I had figured out was true.

He looked down and to the right, and she closed the gap as the wolf she was. She pushed her cheek against his and he looked down still. To him, revealing the neck said he was wrong. To her it was a weakness; now she was going to make him pay for it. He tried to move his head, and she growled.

She wasn’t in her lupine form. It confused me. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I should have told you I fed.” My mother kissed his neck softly, again and again. She then laxed her body until she rolled part of her body down until her head was against his chest. She didn’t say anything, but she kept waiting for him to do something, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

He wiped it away, and stroked her cheek with his thumb, and she sighed, placed her hand next to her cheek, and closed her eyes. The whole exchange confused me. Who was in charge, him or her?

Love, as a certain wife of bath would agree, Is a constant battle for dominance. Right?


Thursday, October 12, 2006

Summer's Journal: Eighth Entry

Today was a busy day for me, and I am very tired. At my school there have been some mysterious disappearances lately. Well under normal circumstances, we have one to three students go missing a semester. We are a town filled with supernatural creatures and entities.

But in the last week alone three students have disappeared. Not the normal gutter crawlers either. See the normal students who go missing are gutter crawlers, the type of kids who hang out in dark alleyways and shoot themselves with needles. The three who disappeared this week were not gutter crawlers at all.

The first was a straight A goody-two-shoes. She went to church every Sunday and she stopped me in the hall three or four times asking me with I wanted to go to church with her the next time she went. Several times she asked me to go to youth group with her.

If you couldn’t already guess, that’s not really my thing. Was I rude to her like I was to the snobs and preps that prided themselves on tripping me in the hall, and trying to mentally break me down? No, I was nice, and declined in like, “No thank you. It’s not really something I have an interest in doing.”

She frowned and shrugged, “Okay. Maybe next time?” I nodded, “Maybe next time.” Now that she is missing. I feel some sort of an obligation to find the thing that killed her and repay it in like. It kind of makes me wonder, if it was one of us, why would they choose her? Her blood would burn them and taste bland. It was one of the benefits to being pious.

Unless like us all she wore a mask.

So at school I began to search for her trail. Any little clues, but there was nothing. So naturally I skipped my classes. When I am on a mission I become blind to my surroundings. I walked into the school’s office.

“Yes Miss O’Ciardha, what do you need?” The secretary asked me.

“I just was coming to report that the seniors have created a prank that can’t be topped or stopped. There is a rather large animal in the quad, rampaging around.”

The secretary rushed to the principle’s office, and they ran out of the central office. I ran to the computer and quickly brought up Kara’s file. Kara was her name. She was in school when she went missing. She had made it to school. She went missing between her second and third period classes.

I quickly scribbled down the classes, and closed the window, and I ran from the office. I went to her second period class and I walked to her third. It was quite a walk. She would have found the fastest way.

As I was walking back to her second period class there was a door, it led to a stairwell heading up and down. I walked up, and it was right next to her class. I walked down the stairs, all the way down.

Often had I been so lost I walked down too many stairs and had to go back up. So I followed the stairwell down. It was a maintenance basement. I tried the door handle softly. It was locked.

I ran my fingers along the cold door. I rested my hand over the lock. I concentrated magic into my hand. The door began to rust around the lock, and I pushed on it, as the rust fell to the floor. In the next room there were pipes and nothing else. I investigated the dust.

There were marks in the dust. Foot prints, barefoot. But they weren’t human. There were lines in the dust, and they led to the next door. I opened it gently, and I listened closely.

“Says it!” A screech echoed in the room as I heard sobs, “Says it now!” There was a girl crying. I smelled sewage, urine, and blood, “She says it, she says it now!” I reached into my side pouch. That’s right, I carry a small pouch that is black on my belt. Purses are so worthless.

I withdrew a container of salt, “It says it now precious!” Trying to be a little to Gollum? It was a squeaky voice, and I heard a voice like it before.

“Please,” Kara pleaded, “What did I do to you?”

“Says the words precious! Says you the bad word. Tells me a lie…”

I peered around the corner. The rat demon was facing Kara who was tied to chains and hanging off the ground, I could see the clear purple bruises at her wrists, and how her body was giving up the fight slowly. But she didn’t have any open cuts.

Even though the girl hanging from the wall was an overwhelming presence in the room, and the rat demon, the little creature who stood as tall as a human hip, who was more rat than human. It was the pile of bones in the corner that were picked clean that brought my eyes to it. I quietly came behind the demon and I put a circle of salt around it.

It turned to me, and its brown eyes turned bright red, and it screeched, as it tried to pounce at me. It hit the wall, and it began to cry.

“Lets us out!” I walked by it, and went to Kara, I reached up and held onto her, as I untied the ropes. She clung to me tightly. I wasn’t strong enough to hold her, and I fell backwards onto the ground and I cut open my leg. It was pure filth that went into it, the remnants of the after effect of those bones, but that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was that the circle of salt was now spread out, and the rat demon leapt towards me. I frantically pushed Kara after me. It had been a long time since I’ve been to confession, and Kara probably confesses everyday.

I began to run around the room. It seemed pointless, I know, but I couldn’t fight it. I had to get the salt. My words of power wouldn’t work because of how weak of a demon it was. I leapt towards the salt, and once I grabbed it I ripped off the top and covered the rat demon in it. He began to screech and cry and his flesh began to burn.

Kara was in the corner crying, and I was going to get feverish real soon. I shuffled through my pack quickly, I tossed the wolfsbane extract away and it shattered, and I grabbed the vial of holy water, and doused the rat again. He melted into a puddle and I limped over to Kara. The adrenaline had worn off, and now I was going to be hurting.

The pain was so intense, that creature’s filth had infected my room, and it already felt inflamed. I helped her off the ground, and she began to get hysterical. It was just her mind telling her to forget.

Once I got her out of the room, I began to hush her hugging her tightly. “Kara, calm down, its over now…” My leg flared in pain as I could feel my heartbeat deep in it. I soothed her, and told her it would all be okay. I grabbed my cell phone, I called 911, told them where I was, and I ripped my skirt, wrapped my wound, and I pulled her up to the outside. I limped away. All they would need is to get ahold of my blood.

That’s when I felt hot. My leg gave out, and I hit the ground with a dull thud. I grabbed my cell phone and called my father. He appeared, and looked at me. He grabbed me gently, “You look like you need to get home…”

He grabbed me, and went through the painful process of cleaning my wound. He stiched it and needless to say, once I was done, my makeup had run from my tears, and I stunk like the sewage I fell in, plus some sweat. I took a shower, and sat down to write in this journal.

Could have been worse; could be dead.


Monday, October 09, 2006

Aurora's Journal: Fifth Entry

I was so scared. I was so scared. I had nothing. My hands were shaking. I was tossed back into the room with the man.

“Are you usually a mute?” He asked withdrawing a quill from his inkwell.

“Yes,” I responded slowly and coldly.

“Why can you speak in this form?”

“Because the physical imperfection changes each time.”

“What is it this time? Just so I know…”

I lifted my hair, and underneath it, an elven ear stuck out.

“Intriguing. Simply intriguing. Now, we know about your tattoo, it’s the only thing that lets us find you, but what is the origin of that.”

“Coyote. He branded me with that, it was to remind me no matter what I was his.”

“Coyote? As in the American Indian Devil.”

I spit at him, “Don’t slander Coyote in such a way. He’s not as simple as your Satan.”

“But he’s the same person, I promise you Thousand Faces.”

I crossed my arms, covering my body as best I could. I felt helpless. Totally helpless.

“You can change forms if you’d like. I’d like to see it. Make it one that can speak.” he lit a fireball in his hand, and waited.

I closed my eyes. If I became Janus it would endanger My dear Jesse, and my Goddaughter, and if I became Rapier I would endanger Page and my Godson Brendan. If I became the Geisha I would get nowhere, and the blind boy was even worse. I would become Rapier’s Dead Wife.

I pushed my fingers into my skull, he seemed to watch with fascination, as I pulled off the skin of this young girl, and revealed the woman that Rapier’s wife was.

I reached into the goo, and pulled up, and clothes appeared on my body.

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I sat down, and folded my arms on my chest protecting myself.

“That was most intriguing.”

My voice called out, siren and clear, “Did you learn anything?”

“Plenty. Its not a spell, its not what I thought it was.”

“What else?” I asked him.

“You’re amazing. Please join us.”

“You bring me in this prison, and threaten to make me old and steal my beauty, and you want me to join the illuminati?”


“Wrong Choice,” I growled from the back of my throat.

“Damnit! I should’ve known!” He screamed.

By then it was too late, fur shot out of my back, and covered my body, as a blood lusted pain shot through me. My body began to contort, and when his fireball hit me, it felt like a warm candle. By the end of the transformation I stood seven foot tall, and my werewolf muscles bulged beneath the fur.

He launched another spell at me, and when it hit, I felt like it burnt a whole through me. He was nothing but a frail chew toy. I leapt onto him, I bit into his neck, and fed from his flesh. I clawed his body open. Eating the meat and bones together as if there was no density to them.

I smelled someone else in the room… It was him. I leapt at him, and when I landed on him, and ripped him open, I smelled again, there was another him. I leapt to it, and began to shred his flesh. I smelled again, it was another him!

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Frustration… Anger… I leapt onto him, and he blasted me into the wall, and I yelped. It hurt… But He was mine, as I leapt to him again he blasted me against the wall. I leapt at him again, and this time when I hit the wall it hurt. I began to whimper. I felt bones crack.

My body shrunk, and I was laying there naked, human and vulnerable. I was back against the wall. I growled in my throat, but it was all growl, there was no bite behind it, I didn’t have it left in me.

“You’re amazing Thousand Faces. I would have never thought you could transcend race. And a Lupine. Amazing. Thankfully, I have copies of myself. You killed all of them.”

I laid down, I didn’t have it in me. The change took too much out of me. He walked over to me, grabbed me by my hair, and pulled me to the chair. I grabbed into his wrists. I began to feed. I began to drain his essence. His life. I felt it enter me, just a little at first, but the more I got, the freer it flowed into me.

He began to age rapidly, as I drained his life from him. He began to scream, but his voice was quelled by my magic. He began to shake violently, as I set him on the ground. His body becoming nothing more than dust.

I looked at my hands. They were so young. I went from being a twenty-one year old woman to being a thirteen year old girl. He had so much life in him. I grabbed his necklace. The golden eye. I put it around my neck, and I put on his robe. I left the accursed building. They would only want to hunt me now that I killed their leader.

But That was one thorn out of my side.

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Thursday, October 05, 2006

Aurora's Journal: Fourth Entry

I was getting close to Pennsylvania. So close. I had taken the guise of a young girl, a traveler, someone who would go under the radar. Wheeling, West Virginia. So close to my goal. So close to Janus’ safe haven.

My Tiger was running through the forest to get to Janus, while I had to travel in public. It was working perfectly. My tattoo was someplace safe on my inner thigh. No-one would be able to see it.

But my greatest enemy was not my tattoo; it was their Sallys.

I tried to avoid the check points, but it seemed as if it was impossible. They were everywhere. Each group had a sally. I didn’t like the odds of me getting away. So I walked up to them nonchalantly without fear.

They held a sally close to me, and it began to glow red, and the air around it twisted. Blasted little bugger. I love life, but I hate Sallys.

I had nothing to do except cast vines. I had to be able to run, and as soon as I started my spell, a VERT nearby spoke some words in Illumunate. My stomach twisted in pain, and my spell stopped. I felt my magic begin to drain. I screamed, hoping it would break his concentration. I looked up. He had a golden eye hanging around his neck. No pyramid. No anything but the eye.

His troopers came up from behind and locked my hands. Dragging me to their car. It was funny how often the VERT could disguise themselves as any government funded group in any country.

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It was a short ride, and I felt my magic coming back. I would let them think it was gone for now. I would use it when I could get away. They grabbed me by my hair, and dragged me to a large building.

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West Virginia Penitentiary. I had heard of this place. Why would they take me here? When I entered I knew why. I began to scream; again.

There were shades everywhere. Walking around. I had to keep avoiding them. I was taken into a room, and sat down with the VERT from before, the one who stopped my spell.

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“Hello Thousand Faces,” he said kindly as he offered me a cup of coffee.

I spat into his face.

“What an interesting form you’ve chosen this time. A thirteen year old girl, that can scarcely be strong. Can it?”

“Screw you!”

“You can speak? Its untrue then, they say you were mute.”

I looked at him. He was not going to get anything out of me.

“I just wanted to speak to you. You’ve caused us a lot of problems, Thousand Faces. Since the Illuminati was established, three thousand years ago.”

I looked away from him.

“Back then it was only a few warrior priests seeking to rid the world of evil. Why were you helping evil so long ago?”

“If I am in God’s grace, I pray he keep me there. If I am not, I pray he put me there.”

“Are you trying to say, we are wrong about you?”

I didn’t answer.

“We’ve been spending a lot of time and money on collecting you. Among the world’s Illuminati you are a legend. A being of such power, but you are clearly as compared to me, I’ve done research on you. But you’re very special. I want to know how you work.”

I didn’t answer.

“Damnit Thousand Faces, just speak to me. I want to know what makes you tick. How you became so powerful. I know you kill people to remain young and beautiful. I’ve seen the bone piles left behind.”

A tear rolled down my cheek.

“I also know what upsets you more than anything. Not being beautiful. Not being young. It will be very painful for you to know, that as a thirteen year old, the cell we are going to put you in will make the aging process happen over a short period of time, and with your youth too goes your beauty, and no-one will be here for you to drain essence from.”

He summoned a couple of VERT and they took me to the cell.

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I began to scream…

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Stop! Don’t put me in there! Please… I can’t… I can’t become old…”

They took me away from the cell, the spirit reached out towards me, I leapt back.

I began to cry, and scream at once.

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Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Summer's Journal: Seventh Entry

The following Journal entry is a little bit of rage I’ve building up. Chris hasn’t answered the phone. He has been openly avoiding me.

As the intelligent young woman I am, I know that he is trying to dump me. He doesn’t love me anymore. I think he is angry at me. I know he is angry at me. I tried calling his house three times. No answer. So now the ball is in his court.

I think he is more of the typical guy then I thought. He must be in it for only one thing. I’ve wanted to kiss him, honestly I have. I still do. But there is no opportunity when you live with my family. Between my mother and her twin trying to stop me at all angles and Brendan’s inopportune but comedic timing of appearing around us, I’ve got nothing.

I could have my cousin beat some sense into Chris, but what good would that do? It would be a waste of Brendan’s energy, because I can beat Chris up. But I don’t want to hurt him.

I think… I think I love him

That’s what I am doing, I am thinking too much. There is my problem. My mind is trained to think all things through. Do I have to think more rashly when I am love for it to work?

I’m going to call him again.

- - - -

Nothing. No answer. Why did I even call him? Do I need him? I have to go talk to my mom. I don’t feel well.

- - - -

Now I feel even worse. My mother not only told me, that I had fallen hard like all the women in this family seem to do, but I had fallen deep too. We hadn’t even kissed, what would happen after we kissed? Will I be his willing slave girl?

She also told me, given the circumstances, that I was in the wrong. I hate being wrong; almost as much as I hate not knowing about something. She wouldn’t tell me how I was wrong either (Which made me even angrier). She said if our relationship was strong at all, then I would realize or he would tell me.

I picked up the phone again, and called, that was my last call for sure. I shut off my phone when it was finished. I got his voicemail and I left him a simple message, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know why.”

I am going to lie down and have a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow I am doing something very special with my makeup, so he knows how angry and upset I am.


Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Chris's Second

So, I hate to say it, but I’ve got to vent a little. I can’t to anyone so I’ll do it here. Dawn really upset me the other day. I called her and she wasn’t acting like herself. She was being too…submissive? I guess that’s the word to use. I don’t even remember what we were talking about, but I couldn’t stay on the phone too long. It didn’t feel like I was talking to my girlfriend. It seemed like it was someone else on the phone. I hate it when she does that. If I wanted someone else, I would be with someone else…but I wanted her and I want to stay with her. I don’t want her to change and act or speak differently. I like her the way she is.

Oh, wait. That’s right she said something about not wanting to tell her father about me. Why not? Does she think I wont measure up? Does she not really want to say she’s with me? I don’t understand! Why do girls have to give such trips? She seems happy enough when we’re together.

Anyway, needless to say I wasn’t so happy today when we were in school. I kept getting this feeling, like a little voice that was in my head going, she’s not serious. She doesn’t want you… It clawed away at me and it was all I could think about for the entire period. I had to think so I didn’t go sit with her at lunch. I actually spent the entire lunch running. I run when I get upset and need to think…call me crazy. I know. Maybe she just doesn’t think her dad would understand? Maybe her father is just strict or doesn’t like a lot of people. Maybe her father is like Joseph… That had never occurred to me. Everyone who is my friend knows I don’t have the happiest of home life. Maybe she had the same thing and didn’t want to ruin anything by bringing in someone so new so soon! Suddenly I felt bad I ditched her. I was going to go sit with her, but as I rounded the locker rooms the bell rang and everyone was moving to go to class. I’d see her in History…right?

Not before my mind started going again. I had a horrible home life, but I had managed to tell both Joseph and Robert about her! I’d made it a point to tell them I was with her and I was happy. Lord only knows what they would have done if they had found out a different way…Why couldn’t she try adding me into her equation? (Sorry…I was looking at math notes) If anything she could try to introduce me into her group of family just for the specific reason of a troubled family life! We could talk…right? Maybe I’m just thinking too much. Anyway, my mood hadn’t improved much when I hit history and it didn’t help that she kept touching me. Letting me know she was there and that she thought everything was alright. Come on, how could everything be alright? I hate to admit it, but it hurt me to think she didn’t want to talk about me to everyone else.

In the middle of class she was called down to the office. She’d gotten into a fight and I hadn’t known. Some girl had tried to pick a fight with her…or at least that’s what Brendan told me later on. I tried to shrug it off as if I wasn’t worried. Truth be told, I was still a little upset about the whole phone call thing. She tried to call me afterwards, but I didn’t really feel up to talking. It was still eating away at me. In fact, she’s calling right now… I’m going to go stare at my phone and debate with myself whether or not to pick up.