DECEMBER 7, 2012

Log from December 7^th:

I've had an epiphany.

After that triumphant little blurb about how I completely massacred Russ - which still feels good, by the way - I went for a little walk. Who should I find?

Jack, and Razzie. Waiting for me, hands extended (metaphorically, in Razzie's case. You know, what with the whole being-a-dog-thing) inviting me to join them in taking the world. That's when I realised it.

I'm redefining what it means, to make this 'my year'.

I don't do well alone. Everyone knows that it's never quite as good, when it's just you and your hand. 'I' had Jack and Razzie because 'I' needed the company. So do I.

So, you know what I'm going to do instead?

I'm going to Scarlet-mark the entire fucking world.

I've never cared if a proxy serves another Fear. I've gone ahead and Marked them, anyway. That's how it should be.

There is a free-for-all on my Scarlet-marked. My proxies are your proxies, my loves. That's why they're whores, to begin with - whores ought to be shared.

I'm on your side.

We'll Mark the entire world.

And those who don't fit in...well.

I guess we'll all put them in the ground together.

DECEMBER 5, 2012

Log from December 5^th:

It seems that the tech-savvy King of capitalisation forgot to take a peek at these logs before making those final few steps. He stepped out of hiding...and right into a group of Scarlet-marked, and my loving arms.

A Red Cap may not be capable of being killed...but they're very capable of being reabsorbed.

My Marked swarmed him, strung him up and slit his throat. His stomach. The veins along his arms and legs. Then, slowly but surely...the Red Cap seeped out, and into me. It left him an emptied shell...glassy-eyed and good and dead.

I win, jackass.

DECEMBER 4, 2012 (PM)

Log from December 4^th (PM):

THE RED CAP BEDTIME STORY

Nasty things are in the dark

It’s more fun if you follow.

Come and bear the Scarlet mark

We bite, we suck, we swallow.

Won’t know if you’re a Vessel,

But in bliss you still can wallow.

Our Mistress will be good to you –

That is, unless, you’re hollow.

Happy birthday to me.

DECEMBER 4, 2012 (AM)

Log from December 4^th (AM):

My Priestess and I...we have a lot in common. I think that's what drew me to her, initially. It's why I kept coming back to her when I can't even fuck her.

I knew I'd need to be around, for this part.

Crept into her room - those naughty, naughty nurses didn't even bat an eye, they were too busy with their nosebleeds. Robin was lying there, tubes up her nose and an IV bag full of blood. Chest all encompasses in casts and bandages and stitches and god knows what else. It looked as though it had been cleaned in there obsessively - I'm going to assume someone employed an Oathbreaker and they had an OCD freak out.

She'd have been mended in a second, if I'd slipped inside.

Like fuck I was going to do that.

I tore through that cast like it was tissue paper. Her chest was utterly wrecked; I have no idea how many surgeries went into putting that mess together, but it's not like it matters now.

I finished the job, tore out her mangled heart, and drank the muscle dry.

DECEMBER 2, 2012

Log from December 2^nd:

the scarlet-marked are heading back to robin, holding a vigil outside the hospital - like shes already dead.

ive followed them, and im going to save her. if i get inside her, i can save her. like ive been saying all along.