*Morning*
Didn’t go
to sleep until near dawn. Sleep is a waste of time anyways when you think about
it. You spend at least one third of your life sleeping and there’s nothing good
unless you have something nice to dream about.
The lists
are done. I couldn’t think of any new trap designs. I did decide during that
time I’d like a sling or slingshot. Both can come in handy in situations, both
in combat and in hunting, and of course, there will come a time where bullets
will no longer be available as they are so might as well start practicing with
weapons other than firearms (or look into making new bullets). I’ll start
making a slingshot eventually, maybe at night after I’m done with that metal
ruler thing.
Mike gave
the guys and me the job of accentually digging a ditch (I suppose I should hand
this one to my guidance counselor. Digging ditches for a living). Mike
announced he was going out for a while. I asked where and stuff, but he just
avoided the questions and left. Moron. I thought he’d learn by now.
*Afternoon*
Handed out
my notes on plants to the hunters and a few of the “tree dwellers”. The way
they accepted them, you’d think I was trying to get them to sign some
unimportant petition to save the whales or something. Hopefully, they’ll at
least read over them.
We dug for
hours straight. I constantly looked over my shoulder (a habit that’s hard to
break and too important to let go). During a break, I continued sharpening the
metal ruler.
*Night*
Funny, a
sick kind of funny actually, how quickly things can turn sour and how much evil
wishes to dwell among us. I was still digging when two men came up to the side
of the ditch, one asking me, “Excuse me, may we ask you some questions about
these plant notes you handed out?”
I saw no
reason to deny them so I climbed out and they led me to two other men, who were
examining a plant growing on the base of a tree. The one farthest to the left
turned and said to me, “Hello. We’ve read over the notes you handed out and I
must say that you did an excellent job at documenting and drawing the edible
plants. However, I believe there are a few that you missed, such as this plant
here. We’re split down the middle on this, can you help us settle the matter on
whether or not this plant is edible. I believe it is called bedrog.”
I’d never
heard of a plant by that name. When I leaned down to get a closer look, I swear
it looked like a bare fireweed with the flowers removed. There wasn’t much time
for me to examine it as I was grabbed by the throat, injected with something
and dragged off by my arms. The men made it known to the diggers and guards
that they had me and then gunfire broke out (I’m uncertain if anyone was hit). Once
I had been dragged a great distance, one of them then took my weapons (all, but
two of my knives that they missed. Still, they would be hard to reach
discreetly in my position). I don’t know what they injected me with, but I felt
like I was going to pass out. I could see a few people following from time to
time.
Then, I was
brought to my feet and one just held a knife to my throat while standing behind
me and they watched and waited. They never shouted demands, asked me questions,
or even acknowledged me for that matter. Every time I opened my mouth to talk,
the guy with the knife nudged me to stop and brought the knife closer to my
throat. I thought at the time they were waiting for someone to show up and aid
them, but after thirty minutes, no one showed. In that time, whatever they
injected me with wore off and I could’ve attempted escape. This wouldn’t be the
best plan, however: two of the men (not including the one holding the knife to
my throat) had their guns pointed at me, those who were trying to save me were just
a few trees away, waiting for an opening and the last two were waiting for the
opposition to make their move. It was a stand off and if I were to incapacitate
one of them, the others might take that as their cue and attack, only to get
hurt. Besides, while standing there so long, I noticed that all of them had
bloodshot eyes, and almost red irises (I read that this only occurs in albinos
when blood leaks into the irises. They weren’t albinos.) Their mannerisms were
like that of a dog waiting for its food; unyielding, loyal, and determined, a
quality you would find in trained soldiers or animals. I wasn’t afraid; I was
interested to see what their next move would be.
Unfortunately,
I never got the chance to see. Mike shot the guy holding me in the neck. He
dropped the knife and I quickly brought him in front of me to use as a shield
while the men hiding behind the trees shot the others. The four were no doubt
dead from all the bullets they took and the bullet that struck the guy’s neck
closest to me didn’t appear to have struck his spine so I ripped off a piece of
his shirt and applied pressure to the spot while I held him down to question
him. He still had those red eyes.
“Who are
you? Why’d you do this?” I questioned.
“It was… at
the master’s request… to test the followers.”
“Master?
Who’s your master?”
“The
master… wishes to meet you. She will bring… the end… to the fading show... with
a joyous finale.”
“Finale?”
“You no
longer please my master… she is coming.”
I tried to
get him to talk more, but he just kept repeating “She is coming” with a smile
on his face. None of my words or punches could get through to him so I left him
to bleed out. It turned out that those men were from the tree village. No one living
there had seen them for three days and they swore they had nothing to do with
the attack on my life (or whatever you called it). I believe it. We wouldn’t
have known if they didn’t tell us in the first place.
I only know
one “she”. From the way he talked, it has to be Ann though since when does she
have followers (followers almost as mindless as the soulless). If what he said
is true then she’s coming here to kill me and probably everyone else. I have to
tell Mike. I’ve been avoiding this conversation for too long and I can’t just
let this one go, especially if I’m right about the attack. Or I could just run
away? I don’t know.
*After Midnight*
I had to
tell him. I’ve been up for hours thinking about it. If I ran away, he’d
probably think I was captured and even if I left a message explaining the
situation, he might think it was just made up to throw him off and begin a
search for me. I had to tell him in person. I went to where he was sleeping and
woke him up.
“What is
it, Jack?”
“We need to
talk. Now.”
“Can it
wait until morning?”
“No”
We walked
out a ways a ways from everyone.
“Look, what
I’m going to say right now is going to sound crazy, but you have to stay with me
on this. You remember, Ann?” I asked.
“Yah. I
never thought I’d hear you mention her.”
“She left
our previous outpost. The night she left, I had a dream about her. She said
that she’d been following me for a long time, even before I met you and that my
life “entertained her”. When I woke up, my bed sheets were soaked in blood when
there were no cuts on me except for my finger, there were bloody footprints and
handprints on the walls, and there were pages documenting the dream I had,
written in blood.”
Mike was
taken back by all this, “Jack, what the hell are you saying?”
“I’m saying
that whatever she is, she’s not human. She’s a psychopath. Remember when I
found you hung on a flagpole? That was her. She did that!”
“Wait.
Wait. Slow down. You saw her hang me on the flagpole?”
“No, but I
know it was her. She carved that message into your back, “watch and be watched”.”
“You’re
saying you woke up from a dream, a dream, correct, not real life? And found all
that weird stuff. And even though you didn’t see her, you know she’s the one
who jumped me and carved a generic message on my back. How do you know it was
her doing? Do you have any proof, like these “pages written in blood” with
you?”
“No. They
went missing.” (should have known it would come back to bite me)
“Have you
actually seen her since that night?”
“I saw her
in another dream last night.”
“A dream? A
stupid dream!? And that’s it!?”
Mike walked
over to a tree and put his head against it.
“I just
thought that you and Ann got into a fight and she left. Worse, I thought you
killed her, but now you’re telling me… I don’t even know what you’re telling
me, man! Jack, why are you telling me this?!”
“Those men that
held me hostage. The one I questioned told me that whole event “was at the
master’s request to test the followers”” I told him, saying it like the man
said, “and that “the master wishes to meet you. She will bring the end to the
fading show with a joyous finale.””
“The guy
sounds nuts! And you believe what he’s saying?”
“You didn’t
see them up close. They all had bloodshot eyes and red irises.”
“Then they
had a sickness of some kind that made them go nuts.”
“Come on,
man! I know how this sounds. I wouldn’t even be telling you this if there
wasn’t the threat of her attacking.”
“Jack…” he
tried to say in a desperate and pleading way.
“Don’t even
say it…”
“I’m going
to!” he yelled, “Did you consider for a moment that you’re imagining all this?
You’re the only one who’s been experiencing these dreams and seeing all this
weird stuff. We’ve all been through a lot and we handle it different, I get
that. But tell me, are you 100 percent certain its her, that she’s responsible
for all these things, which could’ve been done by a bunch of people and
accidents instead of just one?”
“I didn’t
wake you up to debate this. I’m leaving in the morning. I only told you this so
you wouldn’t think I was captured or that I left because I didn’t like being
here. There’s no reason to put you all in danger. She’s after me, not you.”
I walked
away without giving Mike the chance to say another word to my face. I had hoped
that this conversation would’ve gone better. Then again, what can you expect
when talking of things that even I would be skeptical of had they not occurred?
Back when
she first revealed her true colors, I was afraid, paranoid of what was to come.
Right now when I look out into the darkness of the night from the tree I
climbed, I see eyes staring back at me. Perhaps they’re hers, her followers, or
just some animals, but I know they are real, even if they are only real to me. Right
now, I have to prepare myself. There’s no time for sleep and no time to write
anymore.
- Jack’s Diary
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