Log from July 29th:
In her anger, the Mistress left at about nine o’clock this morning to resume her hunting. She took with her the boy; the dog has been missing since yesterday. Apparently, he runs off quite often, and neither of them seemed particularly concerned.
What the Mistress neglected to say in her last few logs was that, during her stay, we were all very certain that we were being watched by something. We could feel it, lurking in every corner of each dark room. The boy hasn’t slept and seemed terrified, but whenever he thought no one was watching him, the expression would freeze and fall away. As though he were faking it.
Now that they’ve gone, I would have thought that ‘being watched’ sensation would have faded. It hasn’t.
Maybe it’s the emails from Russ that are bothering me…
Or…maybe it’s because I’m a Vessel.
I’m still processing that. I didn’t have the slightest idea. It explains so much; why the Mistress won’t touch me…
July 29: (Edit)
I was so caught up in thinking, I almost forgot: All she left behind was another rhyme.
THE MOTHER OF SNAKES BEDTIME STORY
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Go shatter into shards.
I resent what lies behind me,
And I dread what’s in the cards.
She’s there, in my reflection;
She watches while I groom;
She knows how much I hate myself,
She’ll take me to her womb.
I will get a second birth
With scales, a tail, and fangs.
Her daughters must serve faithfully
To soothe the birthing pangs.
If the darkness makes me ugly,
Just look at me once more.
I’ll go back through the mirror
And leave your entrails on the floor.