Sunday, February 12, 2012.
Well here I am again. The illustrious 8-ball. I asked Houdini if I could write about the night’s entries and it told me to ask again later. I stared it down for 30 minutes and then asked it if I could write on my journal. After the test of wills Houdini relented. “Yes.” it said. It’s nearly sun up and Joan is telling me to hurry up and get to bed so I will have to keep this one short.
So I woke up and Joan was gone. I could feel the emptiness in my gut from the prior night’s activities. We never got a chance to eat.
I got a shower, and then noticed that Joan had put a sticky note on the mirror. The message was written in a bold pink sharpie marker: Warehouse 7, Paradise lane dr.
I asked Houdini if I should go, and it said “It is certain.”
The sounds of brakes screaming against tortured rotors greeted me as I walked out of the house. Somehow I knew that Joan had already called the cabbie to get me.
“Howdy Mighty Mouse.” I said.
“Hey kid, where to?” Mighty Mouse asked.
“You don’t already know?” I said as he started to drive away.
“Sorry, act of habit. Warehouse 7 right?” Mighty Mouse said.
“Yeah you got it.” I replied.
The drive took me into the warehouse district to a two story sheet metal building. On some parts of the building the beige paint had begun to peel and curl, and rust had eaten holes in a few places. Two great garage doors faced the street where trucks could be loaded, a single windowless white door was on the other side. Mighty Mouse gave me a key, telling me it should get me in.
I walked across the barren street to the warehouse. Not a soul was in site. As I was fumbling with the key to open the lock Joan startled me.
“Hey there Eight.” She said. She was leaning on the wall right next to the door as if she had been there forever.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. “What the… where the heck did you come from?” I asked.
She told me she used one of the powers that we had to make me ignore her, and that she was going to teach me that and a few more things that night. She called them disciplines.
So we walked into the building and into an empty truck trailer there. Well, it was empty except for a 380 pound balding fat guy with a horrified expression on his face. He was bound to a steel chair and couldn’t do much to move. As we got closer he started struggling hard against his handcuffs. The look of terror was apparant on his face.
“Eight, you are going to need to calm him down.” said Joan. “I have told him I am going to kill him tonight once my friend shows up.” The look on the mans face went from horror to terror. He started pulling harder on his bonds. I could tell if he was going to do this much further he’d start bleeding.
“How do you expect me to do that?” I said.
“Harness the power in your head, find the soothing thoughts and extend them to him. Say something calming.” Joan said.
I searched deep inside, my nerves were jangled. This guy was turning beet red and his eyes were bulging. If it weren’t for the ball gag in his mouth I think he might have screamed for help or threatened my life. “Calm down.” I said waveringly.
The guy just kept struggling. The cuffs were digging into his flesh and a thin trickle of blood was coming off them.
“Focus.” Joan said. “Use the forces within yourself.”
I could hear the voices now. They were shreiking, screaming and howling. Then it seemed they were almost visual. spiraling into one black hole in the back of my head, but each one had a distinct feel. I reached for the pale blue one, and on it’s touch I could feel the nearly depressive calmness that was with it. I imagined that tendril of blue siphoning into him, attacking his fears and calming his spirit.
“I’m not going to do anything to you man,” I said.
The man calmed down instantly. His eyes took on a calm demeanor, and the fear was gone. He sat in his chair.
“Very good,” Joan said. “Although you shouldn’t lie to him like that.”
I thought that would set him off again, but he just sat there calmly. His blood was slowly dripping on the floor in a small puddle below him. Joan saw this too and seemed impressed.
She then pointed to his blood. “I want you to smell it.” She said.
I started to stoop down to smell the blood, but she put a hand on my chest. “From here,” She corrected.
I focused on the blood, imagining my nose to be more efficient than it was and sniffed. I could practically taste the metallic flavor of the blood as it entered my nostrils. Then I could smell the rust on the metal sheeting outside, the rain that had just started to sprinkle, the soft scent of Joan. My nose was on fire. I changed the focus to my eyes and everything in the room became even more clear and focused. The corners sharper and I could even make out every pus infested pore on the fat man’s face.
Joan could see that I was getting it. She took me outside of the container and put me behind a narrow support beam.
“Believe that no one can see you,” Joan instructed.
I imagined that no one could see me. Then I heard Joan say something to the fat man. Using my ability to enhance senses I heard her say “If you can kill him I will give you the location of a million dollars. If you don’t participate, you will die.”
My ear was then deafened by the sound of a chainsaw revving up, followed by the image of the big ball gagged man coming out of the trailer wielding a chainsaw. At this point I clung to the beam and put all my thoughts into believing I couldn’t be seen.
The big man wandered about the place for about fifteen minutes with the chainsaw, looking at every nook and cranny trying to find me. He was trailing blood from his wounds behind him. I waited until he walked past me before I made my move.
I leapt from my hiding spot and caught him by the back. Once I had a grip he started to thrash. I sunk my fangs into him and all thrashing ceased. The chainsaw was dropped and he entered into a point of ecstacy.
I could feel the beast within me raging, begging to be let out, but I remembered the look in the Mole’s eyes as he had his hands at my throat. I fought with every fiber of my being to prevent myself from falling into the same situation.
I drank of the man’s blood, and I drank deeply, only stopping when it would leave him too weak to retaliate. Licking the wounds close I noticed Joan hanging nearby surveying.
“Very good,” she said. “Now you are a real kindred. I think you’ll actually make it.”
Afterwards she took me out to celebrate. I got to play pool all night long. Somewhat vindictive over the whole situation. I didn’t let Joan win a single game. You don’t tell someone to kill me and expect mercy at my game.
Anyways she’s complaining now and I think I see the rays of sun peeping through. I am going to go to bed.
Eight out.
