AUGUST 17, 2012 (PM)

Log from August 17^th:

Is this what Mary felt like when she was visited by Gabriel? Is this what those crazy religious fanatics that claim to have seen God feel?

Just being in her presence makes my blood boil in the best of ways. I feel blessed. I would write poetry about this, if I weren't such a shitty writer.

My Mistress graced me with one of her logs. I have read them for so long. I am truly honored to be given the task to now record them.

August 15:

Being this liberated means I’ve discovered shit about myself that I never have before. I’ve never been able to connect this completely with a Vessel before.

I don’t need to eat. I don’t need to sleep. I don’t need to drink.

That’s right, fuck you, Campers. To think, I used to believe there was a risk of you fuckers getting Her to taint me. Although, you know what? I wouldn’t mind. I think It and I could really hit it off. The only thing I dislike is being part of that hive-mind thing. I already have to share my head with…well, myself. Wouldn’t want anyone else in there.

As long as the Scarlet-marked feed me, I’m just grand. And they always feed me. Every deviant that bleeds, or orgasms – that’s in my name. Unless the entire world takes a vow of celibacy, I’m eternal.

Man, what a pleasant revelation. It feels good to be me.

And it feels good to praise me, too. Go ahead, person-reading-this. Go feel good.

August 16:

Found this page in my bag, and it actually made me a little sad. I miss Jack – at least he was someone to talk to.

Think I’ll go have a night on the town. Got to get some of this hunger out of my system.

EAT BEDTIME STORY

IT and HER but never SHE

My obsession set me free

Ink has spread inside of me

Drowning is my remedy.

Life is better, you’ll agree

Everything else leaves you be

Fixation is heavenly

I’ve been swallowed by the sea.

AUGUST 17, 2012 (AM)

Log from August 17^th:

Thanks to Russ, my suspicions were confirmed that [REDACTED] was a Vessel. After that, I went back over the story Jack sent me. The one about ‘the magnet’.

I think [REDACTED] was the monster.

I’m looking for class records. I want to see who he was teaching, in 1999.

AUGUST 16, 2012

Log from August 16^th:

The teacher’s name was [REDACTED]. Taught at [REDACTED] for a number of years before developing strange habits. He had two daughters and one son – names not disclosed – and an unhappy marriage; they divorced almost a year before he first lost his job at the school. There’s a whole profile on him, online…apparently, he made himself pretty infamous.

He had a bunch of court cases that led to him being fired, all of them concerning inappropriate conduct, sexual violence, and then came the accusations of sexually abusing children. Nothing was proven, so he got off…and that lawyer must have been the same one OJ Simpson used, because two years later, he managed to get himself re-hired at the same school, in 1999.

And then in early December, he turned up dead and drained. It reportedly took a long while to identify the body.

I also thought it was worth noting that in every single picture, the tie he’s wearing is red.

AUGUST 14, 2012

Log from August 14^th:

I march along with my frozen brigade, but beneath the ice hides color of another shade.

On every finger lies a sign of my faith. Devotion like no other, none can replace.

As foreign the idea, I be none other. The first of the Scarlet, and Red is my mother.

For her I shall bleed a mile a day. For her Russ will die, there is no other way.

At last I had seen her, she left me her word. I pass it to you. Through me she is heard.

I leave you with these, with hopes She will see. Unlike no other, this Priestess we need.

On cold winds I fade, I shall find you soon. Thou life is short, you’ll hum to my tune.

Through Fear I may function, but Red is my eye. Hear me now, the Cold Boy’s cry.

August 8:

I tried stabbing myself, out of curiosity. Don’t worry, I’m not depressed, or anything. Literally, I was just…curious.

Apparently, I can’t die. I don’t have blood anymore. Just the Red Cap, oozing around inside of me. That’s when it occurred to me; I don’t have a heartbeat.

So, what am I? A shell? Like a fucking Dying Man shard?

August 9:

There comes a point where it’s just better to be me all the time. It was starting to feel like some kind of split-personality psycho-state. The kind that makes for great television.

It’s better for everyone if I stop being dormant and just come out and play all the time.

Jack noticed. Poor little guy seems a bit put off by me, now, but we still have fun. I don’t think he ultimately cares, so long as I let the Black Dog hang around and read him the occasional bedtime story. Oh, and give him some say in the murders.

We had a lot of fun with some Nameless. A lot of fun.

August 12:

Jack isn’t on my side anymore.

He threw a bit of a tantrum when we encountered a couple of Children of the Cold – ones I recognized, incidentally. Pretty sure I saw them in a library, once, or something. The brats might have been following me.

Once their heads were a good few feet away from their bodies, he got cranky. He isn’t going to be lending a helping hand anymore, apparently. He scampered off, and now…I’m stuck on my own.

Well, I use ‘on my own’ loosely. Currently lying next to a Scarlet-marked who’s still passed out after round three. I’m writing this particular log on a bedside table in permanent marker. You know, just as a token of my love.

Either way, things can only get more interesting from this point on. I don’t know if this means Jack is now my enemy…but I’m not stupid.

I’ve made an enemy of the Cold Boy.

Eh, fuck it, we were already enemies. I stole this body before he could numb it…just like I stole it before Slender Man could properly get his stalk on. And from Sir-grins-a-lot before he could start doling out the flowers. Before the Mother of All could ‘gift’ her with fangs and scales.

Poor, precious little magnet just never stood a chance, huh? Good thing my last main Vessel was a total pedo.

…Also, maybe I’m using the term ‘enemy’ a little too loosely. Given the situation.

Here comes the crazy laughter again, and man, does it feel good.

P.S. Next orgy is on the last of the 31st. Worry not, my siblings, for I shall gather.

AUGUST 13, 2012

Log from August 13^th:

Lately, I’ve needed to pile on layer upon layer and I’m still freezing. Given the wave of heat, this has earned me no shortage of odd looks, but…I can’t help it. I’m so cold, all the time.

It’s giving me this horrible sinking feeling, and that’s not helping me warm up at all.

Even worse than that, I woke up this morning to the most awful, gut-wrenching stench I’ve ever experienced. It was beyond any kind of description, so foul that the smell seemed to crawl down my throat and gag me.

Someone brought me the bag of flesh and left it right beside me while I slept.

AUGUST 12, 2012

Log from August 12^th:

I’ve crossed the border by bus, and the moment I did, I shredded my passport. I cannot return home, and the less identification I have, the better. I will not say where I am, exactly, but I’ve at least managed to find a motel that will take me in for free, tonight.

The owners of the motel are a middle-aged couple, both marked with red. Their only request for letting me stay was to help me praise the Mistress. It was awkward, and I’m exhausted, but a lot safer than I would be, camping out on the street again.

I feel like there’s a constant presence in the darkness, just watching me. I sometimes think I can feel something breathing down my neck, but it’s in my imagination. I’m sleeping with the lights on, tonight.

AUGUST 11, 2012

Log from August 11^th:

I keep stopping in at train and bus stations, now that I’m off the main road. They have cheap food and Internet – it’s all I really need.

I shoved that bag down to the very bottom of a garbage can. It reeked and I hope to hell I’m far enough away, and that no one asks questions about it. I didn’t know what more to do. If I could have burned it, maybe, I would have.

I remembered where I read that, though. About a victim being skinned – it was in an article I looked up a while back. A man who was ‘nearly destroyed’ on the surface and drained of blood, back in 1999.  I had it saved on my laptop, so I could find it again, so I looked the article over again.

It’s related to the Mistress; I know that. I’m certain of it.

I’m going to look up more information on this rumoured pedophile teacher.