There are some who call me… Tim?

So your probably thinking to yourself: Is there going to be a part three? Is the story going to continue after this?

The answer is: Maybe. I didn’t write a third part today (well, physically), which means I may not have the momentum to write a third part. If you are all interested, I might be able to do something about it, but till then, we have an eternity of cliffhanger.

Enjoy!

Flight to Easter Island

I would have rather taken the train. The carriage was going to add nearly a month to my travel, but I couldn’t afford the attention train passengers are given. Our little Berlin problem had blossomed into the New Berlin Empire, and had seized control of the surrounding land. Prince Nigel had fled to Paris, marking the end of the magocracy’s control of Berlin, and there were rumors that General Yreklin had been killed.

Traveling at all was dangerous, but I had to make the move. I was headed toward Casablanca where I would catch a boat to Easter Island. If what Robert said was true in his letter, my suspicions of a link between the passage of Junzt’s Unaussprechlichen Kulten’s description of the Oho-tea architecture, and some unlabeled diagrams in Eibon’s Liber Ivonis were correct. Dangerous as it is, the Oho-tea witchdoctors may be the key to wand-less casting, something that I strived for. I was tired of the crutch the wand had become, I was nothing without it.

I was to transfer to a zeppelin in Lyons, which was still under the power of a magocracy. Within a few days, I would be in Casablanca boarding the St. Maria which would head south, past the horn, and to Easter Island. I will be much more comfortable on the airboat, and only if it was to continue as far as Easter Island, or even the New World. The carriage wasn’t too bad, however. In fact, the seats were quite comfortable, and, despite the rough roads, the ride was smooth and quiet.

The nights were less comfortable. I slept in the carriage, but the seat was much shorter then I was; the result was a dull pain in my back throughout the entirety of the journey. I suppose I couldn’t complain though. It was a far cry better then what would have happened on the train had New Berlin’s soldiers found me.

Before I left I sent several letters, warning my friends in Germanic-Europe to retreat west or south. Sergei Yegorif had gone south to Greece and, before I left, I received a letter of his safe arrival, as well as a drawing of a Greek temple. I was impressed, impressed enough to consider it my new home after my journey, as Berlin was now not safe.

Among the letters I sent was one to Kirin. I mention it only because of its length and importance. I detailed the consequences of not leaving in hopes of persuading her to leave Berlin and spoke of my travel to Casablanca. I wouldn’t dare mention the reason for my journey, save I was traveling to see Roger, an old friend of mine. If I was lucky, Kirin would take the hint and head, at the very least, to Paris.

When I finally reached Lyons, I was eager to escape the wooden carriage that had become my prison. I paid the carriage driver, and headed toward the air-docks. I paused in the city square to look up at the clock that adorned the side of the dock: 7:36. My zeppelin left at 8 o’clock sharp. I hurried into the dock and took the stairs two at a time at first, but I soon out-ran my breath and slowly took the rest one step at a time. I stepped, exhausted, onto the zeppelin. A kind faced man greeted me.

“Good Evening, Sir! Name?”

I smiled. “Fenris. Fenris Mourn.” The man nodded and noted something on his sheet.

“Ticket?”

“Right, Right…” I fumbled through my pockets and produced the small green slip. The man took it and inspected it closely, then nodded again.

“Thank you, Sir, do enjoy the flight.” He gestured me into the cabin, and with a smile, I proceeded inside. I found the first open room and stepped inside. There was room for another passenger, but I hoped no one would take it. I much preferred my privacy.

I set down my bags and hung my hat on the hook by the door. After a spending a moment with the mirror, making sure my hair looked alright, I stepped back out into the hallway and down to the dining room. The dining room was full of bright, young faces, mostly male, who hoped to take a boat across the Atlantic to the New World. Stories of riches and exotic, beautiful women attracted men and boys alike to the New World like moths to a flame. The only empty table was a booth next to the large open window. I approached it suspiciously, since I would have expected a table with such a view would have been taken, but finding nothing wrong, I sat down.

The dining room’s menu was limited, but I was hungry. When the waitress came but a moment later, I was already ready with my order.

“Evening, Hun,” she said with a practiced smile.

“Evening. Could I have the lemon chicken and a glass of water?” She nodded and jotted down my order on a pad.

“What brings you up here, Hun? We don’t see many of your type on here.” I paused at her words and looked up at her again. I had not been expected to be pegged as a mage so quickly, let alone by a waitress.

“Hmm? Oh, um, business.” She didn’t seem completely satisfied with the response, so I quickly changed the topic. “How could you tell?”

“Your eyes. You’re educated, I can tell. Most of the folks we see here aren’t. Gives you right away.” She smiled. I smiled back.

“Well, thank you.” I smiled at her.

“I’ll get your order in.” Her voice was very matter-of-fact, and I nodded before turning toward the window. With a shudder, the zeppelin began to ascend, right on schedule. My window seat gave me a beautiful panoramic view of the French region of Germanic Europe, and I traced with my eyes the extensive rail system the Prince had spent so much installing.

As we began moving away from the city, I turned my eyes down toward the city below. My attention was snatched by a commotion in the street. Grey-clad soldiers were moving into the square in front of the air-dock and, experiencing armed resistant by the red-clad soldiers of the magocracy, were firing rifles. I opened the window slightly, pressing my ear to the opening. The gun shots sounded like insignificant pops. I frowned and looked around the room. The rest of the patrons had begun to notice and were moving to the windows to look down.

The firing continued for several moments before the grey-clad soldiers disappeared inside the air-dock. Although fading pops could still be heard, there was nothing that could be seen in the growing darkness. Suddenly a bright light began to flash atop the air-dock. I scrambled to grab a pencil and paper from my coat, writing down the letters.

-A-F-E-N-R-I-S-A-B-O-A-R-D-?-

I swore quietly under my breath. How did they know I was here? They didn’t know if I had boarded the zeppelin, which was reassuring, but my life now sat in the hands of the Captain. If he reported me on board, they could recall the zeppelin, or worse, blow it out of the sky. The pause seemed to go on for hours, my heart racing. Finally, the response came, reflecting off the dirigible’s envelope.

-N-O-

I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. The answer was unusually short for an official message, but I had the feeling the Captain knew what the soldiers might do if they knew I was aboard. The momentary lapse of anxiety was soon ended by another thought. Had my letter to Kirin been intercepted? Although there was no way New Berlin could send troops to Casablanca fast enough, but the rails would have allowed them to respond even if they intercepted it only a week ago. And what of Kirin? Her address was on the letter! Was she already dead?

I continued to stare out the window as my mind raced, and did not notice when the flames first began to lick the air-dock. Soon, the entire city of Lyons, slowly sinking into the dark horizon, was glowing orange. The frustration of my escape must have made their Lieutenant rash.

When my food came, I paid, but did not eat it. An entire city burnt to ashes, and Kirin… I did not sleep that night, nor for most of the trip. Sitting instead by the window, staring. Not all stories have happy endings, but no one ever expects those stories to be theirs.

Fin! Hope you Enjoyed!

As always, Leave comments below.

Jumble, End Post.

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So, this was actually originally written as a short story. Specifically, as a series of Diary entries. I eventually decided, however, that the diary style is very interesting for me since I can extrapolate in depth about research, texts, and political following of my characters, it can be very boring for the reader.

Instead, I am giving about a 3 page short story per diary entry, recording important aspects of the day/time in a more first person writing style. We’ll see how long it lasts before I get horrible bored.

As a side note, I hope to do a review of Arcanum in the coming week or so.

Story!

The Beginning

The morning air was cool and crisp. It would have been a nice day to sit on the porch with Summer’s Poison de Umbras and a cup of coffee, but I had more important things to do. I pulled on the reins and my horse stopped at the forest’s edge. I peered up the hill at the tower above, carefully searching for lights, smoke, or other signs of habitation. Finding nothing, I gave a little sigh and continued up the hill.

Ms. Terin had always been a sweet woman, and the news of her death had brought me great grief. She had always been good at what she did, and had always been compassionate about it. It was largely because of this that she was able to live here, with such a magnificent view of Berlin and the surrounding countryside, without other mages coming to pillage her knowledge and trinkets. On some level, I would have been happier if it was a mage that had killed her; mages are predictable and finding her killer wouldn’t have been hard. No, it was the people of Berlin who had killed her. Ever since Kingslan perfected the “wizard-killing” bullet, it didn’t take a wizard to kill a wizard. Berlin had never been the same.

I stopped at the door and looked about again, watching the surrounding woods and homes for activity. God Forbid any of the rising Anti-Mage groups spot me. Satisfied, I dismounted my horse and patted him on the side. The door was unlocked, but I paused before opening it. My thoughts turned to the last time I was here, when Ms. Terin had invited me to tea. She was such a kind old woman.

“Just go in and get the books, nothing else.” I reminded myself. I wasn’t a looter, I was here for the things she had promised me. With a final sigh, I pushed the door open. The warm air rushed out, bringing with it a nauseating smell of rotting food. I coughed and stepped away from the door, gasping for clean air. I pulled my shirt up over my nose and pushed in.

The building was dark, things were strewn about the floor, and there were signs of scorching on the floor. A smile crept across my face. Ms. Terin didn’t go without a fight. I chuckled to myself, thinking of the faces of the first men in. The stench broke me back to Earth, and I quickly stepped over to the window over the sink, throwing it open and gasping for the clean air outside.

Something on a shelf caught my eye, and I knelt down to look at it. The little porcelain figure, not more than three inches tall, depicted a thin, tall woman with wisp hair and a kind face. I smiled and picked up the figurine. I know I promised not to take anything else, but it would be nice to have the little statue of Ms. Terin. I looked up for a moment at the silver plates above the bottom shelf and saw something – someone – in the window.

There was a flash of light, and I threw myself away from the shelves. Splinter of wood, glass, and metal rained down as I whipped my wand out, pointing it at the window. My eyes locked with the wild blue eyes of the girl beyond the window, and I let out a cry. “Fuck! Kirin! What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

She glared at me. “Protecting my find.”

“Your find!? Fuck, Kirin, you nearly killed me!” My hand began to throb and I looked down at it. The porcelain figurine had broken in my hand, the shards digging into my skin. I shook loose the shards, blood pouring from my hand. “Fuck!”

“Get the hell out.”

I gripped my hand to my shirt, stemming the blood flow best I could. “Kirin, your gifted, we all know that, but you’re getting arrogant. This is not a ‘find’ it’s someone’s home. It’s hardly respectful to blow apart their shelves.”

“She’s dead, it doesn’t matter.” Her expression had not changed, her wand still outstretched.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “What do you even expect to find here? There’s nothing here worth killing anyone over.”

“Maybe not in your mind, old man.”

“Kirin!” I shook my head. “You could have at least warned me! After all those times I saved you your life.”

“I don’t need you anymore.” Her still raised wand was starting to bother me. I glanced around the room; the stairs were only about five feet away from me. Ms. Terin’s library was upstairs, if I could get up there…

“I’ll tell you what, how about a compromise? I’ll spend five minutes upstairs grabbing what I want, then I’m out of here. Everything here, in the basement, and what I don’t take upstairs is yours.”

“What’s upstairs that you want?”

“Books. I’m a bookworm.” I shrugged, hoping I would seem apologetic. She nodded slowly, and I did not wait for her to reconsider.

The library was dingy as downstairs, and I opened the window with my uninjured hand. I started skimming the titles, Kirin was not going to give me a second longer than five minutes, and I would much rather not have to hurt her. Arrogant as she is, she is promising, and could prove important when the Berlin problem became large enough to be dealt with.

Shadows and Darkness, by Fredrick Eisenhower. No, already read it, wasn’t promising. Bestiary of Fey, already have a copy. Liber Ivonis, Yes! I snatched the work off the shelf, spilling blood over the floor in my excitement. I swore again and clutched the hand to my shirt again. I opened the book best I could and skimmed it. Authentic, Perfect. I had no idea that Ms. Terin had a copy, or that anyone in Germanic Europe had a copy. This was all I needed. I placed the book in my bag and turned to take one last look out over the landscape.

A light caught my eye. Gathering torches in the brightening dawn. “Fuck!” Things just kept getting worse. I tore back down the stairs. “Kirin! Kirin! Wizard hunters!”

She looked up at me from her perusal of a drawer, and her eyes grew wide. “Shit!”

“Go! Go! Take my horse!” I motioned her toward the door, and she bolted. I heard my steed whiney in protest of the new rider, then take off at a gallop into the woods. I jumped through the window. Unable to catch myself, I rolled to land on my back. I gasped in pain as I landed; the carrots were ready to be harvested. Pulling myself to my feet, I stumbled slightly. I paused to regain my senses, then retrieved my wand. With a quick motion I knit together the shadows into a horse, its eyes glowing with the umbral motives of midnight. Pulling myself atop the freezing creature, I willed it to gallop. The horse’s motions were abrupt and artificial, but its quick noiseless stride was a boon. I looked over my shoulder, squinting at the sun. I couldn’t see the hunters yet. I didn’t dare stop till I was deep into the woods.

Fin! Hope you Enjoyed!

I already have part two written, so you’ll at least see that. I only got as far as Part Two of a story I was writing for Queen Elizabeth Faulke Wallace Lundblade the First before I got bored and stopped, so we’ll see how this one goes.

Leave Comments and Suggestions below.

Jumble, End Post.

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Been awhile since I posted, and I’m quite proud of this story. Inspired by a variety of things, but I don’t know if you can pick them out in here unless you’re me, or one of my close friends.

Alas, here we are:

The Cold

My head was throbbing. I tried to move my hands and found them bound, my legs the same. I slowly opened my eyes, taking in the dim room. A few scattered belongings, a medical bag with familiar medical supplies, and a chair. I shook my head. Last thing I could remember I was fighting those damn pirates. Shit. I’m captive. Are they going to torture me? Drown me? As the reality of my situation set in, I began to panic, and my head began to spin.

Quite abruptly, the door opened, interrupting my thoughts. A young man stepped through, dressed in black, with a clipboard.

“Oh good, your finally awake! I was worried we had lost you.” He seemed cheery, almost friendly, but I replied with a cold glare. “Come now. I’m a doctor. I’m here to help.” I replied with a scoff.

With a sigh, he gripped his clipboard to his chest. “I know, I know. Doctor amongst privateers. Hm. Don’t thin k it’s a plum job, but a man’s got to eat!” He smiled again and lowered the clipboard, picking a fountain pen off the table. “Now then, your name?”

I pondered an insult, but settled for silence and a glare. The man frowned. “Alright then, I hope to change it later, but in the mean time, you’re Patient 46. My name is Doctor Hammond. Pleasure.” He scratched at the attached paper with the pen before setting them both down on the table. Picking up the stethoscope he turned toward me again and folded his arms.

“So, cooperate or not, I do have a job to do, so here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to check your head for any serious injury, treat any other injuries you have, and then check you for diseases. Can’t let you get the crew sick.” He smirked, as if I would care. “Any pain to complain of?”

Normally, I wouldn’t have responded, but maybe this Doctor could help me. “ ‘Ead hurts.” My voice was weaker then I intended. “I’m sorry?” “My ‘Ead Hurts.” I said a bit louder. With a nod, he walked behind me.

I’m uncomfortable with people behind me, even when not bound to a chair, and try all I could, I couldn’t turn my head far enough to keep an eye on him. “Look forward for me, let me have a look at you.” I made a noise of protest, but complied. If this damn headache was gone I might be able to figure a way out of here.

His hands were warm and comforting, until he found my wound. I gasped and pulled away, wincing among his apologies. He didn’t pause long, parting my hair and taking a look at the wound. “Ooh, this is pretty bad. Nothing a big of rest and bandages won’t heal.” His voice faded as he stepped away from me, and I heard water sloshing behind me.

I steeled myself best I could manage, but I couldn’t stifle the wincing as he dabbed at and cleaned the wound. He worked quickly though, and was soon wrapping my head with bandages. When he stepped in front of me to admire his handiwork, I gave him a gruff look of thanks. With a smile, he nodded.

“My pleasure. Anything else bothering you?”

“Just the ropes.”

He laughed. “If only I could help. I do prefer my patiences less fettered, but the captain’s orders.” He shrugged, and turned toward the medical bag again, rummaging around. “Next thing to check is your gums. Scurvy, gingivitis, decay, excreta, will let me adjust your diet properly.” He turned toward me with a pair of nasty looking metal hooks atop short bars. He laughed again. “Don’t be so apprehensive. Won’t hurt you a bit! Come now, if you don’t cooperate with this one, you’ll be eating tasteless gruel.” Reluctantly, I opened my mouth.

He pulled the chair up in front of me and sat down, poking his tools into my mouth and frowning. “Looks like you have a bit of scurvy… no matter, I think I have some lemons down in the car-…” he paused suddenly, looking around the room. I followed his gaze, but found nothing. Then I felt it: the room was getting colder. The Doctors eyes widened with fear. “Shit.”

With a clatter, he stood up and tripped over the chair. The cold began to wrap around me like a heavy blanket. The doctor scrambled to the bag and poured the contents out onto the table, grepping through the contents even as tools and vials clattered to the floor. I shivered and the room began to grow dimmer. He quickly returned with a vial, and spoke quickly and loudly, but he sounded muffled and distant. “Take this! Drink! Drink! Don’t let them in!” I felt the liquid going down my throat. It was warm and reassuring; the room grew brighter for a moment, and I watched him rush to the door.

“CAPTAIN!” The room began to grow dimmer again. “CAPTAIN!” His voice was only an echo. CAPTAIN, QUICKLy! I felt something crawling on my hand, and I looked down. Little black things poured up over my leg and began burrowing into my skin. I could feel them crawling, spreading. The doctor’s voice was gone now, and I shivered hard in the deepening cold. Finally, all went dark, but I could feel the things wriggling beneath the skin of my neck.

I heard a scream closeby. The scream of utter terror as sanity flees the mind of a man clawing at the Earth, pleading with the demons that haunt the far corners and dark shadows of his nightmares. The screaming grew louder; Does that screaming come from me?

Fin! Hope you enjoyed.

Jumble, End Post

Comments(6)

Wordpress is a very strange thing.

While it sends most of the comments through moderation, in fact I had 33 to moderate today (31 of which were spam, the other two were Samm), it lets others through. As a result, Egor, Blart, and even Samm were posting away whenever they felt a comment was necessary, and Wordpress never even let me know!
I’ve revamped the security system, and added in some sonar systems, as well as some low-altitude radar stations to make it much harder for even Blart, with his impressive aviation skills, to fly below our radar.

In any case, didn’t write anything new today, but I will include a story I wrote a few days ago just for kicks and giggles.

The Darkness of Space

 

When it first arrived, we did not know what to think. What was this strange thing? It was no common meteor or comet, shaped so carefully and without err. It was honeycombed with chambers that were full of gases. How odd.

This is the USS Zeus, Contacting Any Ships in RG87, Please Respond.

We looked closer, and again, we did not understand. Little things running about entropically, yet with some fundamental order. Our curiosity piqued, we moved closer, carefully shifting forward towards it.

This is the USS Zeus, Contacting Any Ships in RG87. Super-Light Drives Destroyed, Supra-Light Drives Damaged. Any Ships, Please Respond.

Was it alive? Surely it must be hurting; else the little things would not move so. We reached out and touched the thing. It was… different. We had never felt this before. Unlike our home and being, the substance of this thing was excited. It was vibrating energetically. How strange.

This is the USS Zeus, We Have a Possible Situation Developing, Requesting Immediate Assistance. Please Respond.

Was it the brightly glowing thing beneath its metal exterior? We must help. We are compassionate.

-ituation, I repeat, This is the USS Zue-…-ave a Situation! Requestin-…-ssistance!

Ah! Already it has begun to relax. Even as we cast the glowing thing away, the vibrations begin to slow. But wait… the little things move faster now… How bizarre.

-sing Power, Cann-…-ignal, We Ne-…-mediate Assistance! Plea-…-pond!

We moved closer, reaching out again. Little walls had begun to seal off chamber s within, seal it off, trapping the gas inside. Was it the gas that provided this strange vibration? We wondered.

-fe Supp-…-asulties, Reques-…-tanc-…-spond!

Much better. It had begun to relax again. We spirited the gas away from the thing and the thing slowly turned to is natural state. We like it though, and we have wrapped ourselves around it. It is ours, and it is nice to have.

 

Hope you enjoyed.

Jumble, End Post.

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Short Story I wrote on the road. A little peculiar, but I hope you will enjoy it.

A Collection of Notes

April 16^th, 1938

Soleb, Egypt

What a discovery! The night’s sandstorm has brought a great blessing! Sometime during the night, the shifting sands exposed another pyramid, far south of the Great Pyramids. The tomb of some forgotten Pharaoh? The temple of some pre-Egyptian God or Goddess? It is too soon to tell. As I write, our men are trying to discover an opening. Can’t write any more, I must go help. Oh great blessings!

April 17^th. 1938

Soleb, Egypt

This morning’s earthquake has returned that accursed tomb to the depths of sands from which is came. Thank the Heavens that it no longer corrupts the horizon. I still do not know exactly what it was, as the construction is much finer and more precise then the great pyramids but the hieroglyphs date it far before the Egyptian culture. And the things I saw… it was hollow, filled with black stone statues of scarabs, and thousands of skeletons, piled like wood. The inscriptions… I won’t repeat what the stories they told. Something was alive in there… nobody could say what or how they could tell, but all the men agreed that there was… sleeping, waiting. One of the men took the pharaohs ring. I begged him to replace it, but he refused. Tomorrow we are making a hasty move toward Thebes, to rid ourselves of this entire area.

Earthquake Causes Panic

By Mohammed Hasim * Soleb and the surrounding area were gripped with panic last night shortly after the earthquake. The earthquake itself only registered as a 3.4 on the ricter scale, and no major damage to buildings or deaths were reported. What caused the panic was the aftermath. Clearly overexcited by the earthquake, there were reports of another pyramid rising out of the sands to the west, across the Nile, and the police were overwhelmed with calls complaining of strange sounds, “unholy” things in the water, and the dead rising again. Archeologists have made clear that there are no major pyramids near Soleb, and further investigation revealed no pyramid in the area in which it was supposedly spotted. This has not quieted their imaginations, however, and reports of lights, noises, and movement in cemeteries have continue to flood the police offices at night. (5/8/1987)

The Contents of the Safe Deposit Box of Late Fredrick Peabody on February 3^rd, 2003:

Contents Logged by Written Request of Samson Peabody, the Deceased only Heir:

Last Will and Testament

3 Gold Coins from the Early Roman Period. Appraised to $20,000.

Passport of the Late Fredrick Peabody

Title to the Home and Land owned by the Late Fredrick Peabody

Diaries of the Late Fredrick Peabody, one dating from 1938, the other from 1957.

One Gold Ring of Egyptian Design. Appraised at $80,000.

A Set of Keys to an Unknown Location.

Signed by the Clerk,

Gregory Smith

Classified

The Fate of Mrs. Sally Kollings

Mrs. Sally Kollings was asked by Mrs. Michelle Peabody to watch her home for a two week period from of August 19^th to September 2^nd, 2006. She was reported missing on August 27^th after she failed to appear for work and her husband was unable to contact her at the Peabody residence. When requested on the 29^th of August, Mr. Samson Peabody granted Police permission to force entry to his residence. On August 30^th at 10:31 AM, Officer and Officer arrived at the Peabody residence. At approximately 10:35 AM, they successfully gained entry through the front door of the residence using a key left under the front matt. They found the residence completely locked up, with no signs of forced entry, and no window or door left unlocked, including the doors between rooms of the residence. At 10:46 AM, Officer discovered that someone had overturned much of the bedroom, looking mainly through Mrs. Michelle Peabody’s jewelry. [Nothing was reported missing when Mr. and Mrs. Peabody returned and went through the jewelry.] Both Officer and Officer report a very distinct and strange odor in the bedroom, describing it as “the smell of the freshly turned dirt in a graveyard.” At approximately 10:51 AM, as Officer was walking through the kitchen, he heard a noise in the basement. Both Officer and Officer entered the basement at 10:53 AM. They report that the basement was largely empty, except for 16 cardboard boxes [contents searched and nothing out of ordinary was found], a wine rack with 52 bottles of wine [wine tested, negative on all accounts] and a large wooden crate [Mr. and Mrs. Peabody both stated, under oath, that the wooden crate was not there upon their departure]. The Officers determined at 10:58 AM that the noise was coming from the crate. The Officers describe the noise at this point as “a scratching noise, like someone trying to claw their way out.” At 11:00 AM, the Officers started to try to gain entry into the crate using a crowbar found in the basement. The Officers successfully opened the crate at approximately 11:04, almost immediately after which, Officer discharged 4 shots from his service pistol and Officer discharged 6 shots from his service pistol. An excerpt from the official interview of Officer follows:

: I… We both saw it at the same time I think… It was a skeleton… in rags, what could have been a charred and burned dress… There was no flesh left on it, nothing… just bone… It lunged at us as soon as it saw us that that is when me and… and Officer shot several times at it. The rounds did not stop it though and we retreat-… ran up the stairs. Officer then shut and locked the door behind us. That is when we contacted our Commissioner…

Officers , and arrived at 11:17 and set up a police perimeter. NSA agents and arrived at 11:23, and CIA agents and arrived at 11:26. After debriefing Officers and , the NSA agents and CIA agents proceeded to the kitchen, where they used infrared and ultrasonic equipment to obtain photos and of the creature. It was noted at this point by Agent that the bones of the skeleton were at a stable temperature of 178 degrees Fahrenheit. Agent contacted his superiors and a vehicle was sent from the Houston Depot, driven by NSA Agents and . The vehicle arrived at 12:46 PM. At 1:13 PM NSA Agents , and , as well as CIA Agents and subdued the creature under a carbon-fiber reinforced Kevlar blanket and successfully transported the creature to the vehicle at 1:32 PM. At 2:56, a National Guard Decontamination Team arrived. At 3:43, the Decontamination team reported an unusual amount of background radiation, recorded at 100 mSv, caused in part by a surprisingly high concentration of Xenon-133. Police Officers , and were debriefed at 5:46 PM and instructed to tell no one of what they saw. At 6:16 PM, the official Police records were changed to show that nothing out of the ordinary was found in the Peabody Residence. On September 1^st, 2006, the NSA Lab in Houston reported that the bones were those of Mrs. Sally Kollings. The creature was moved from the lab to Houston International Airport and transported by plane to Area 51, New Mexico on September 4^th, 2006. It is presently under containment in specimen containment cell 76, and is undergoing study lead by , PhD. The motive for the attack, and the cause of Mrs. Sally Kolling’s condition are both unknown.

Strange Material Found in Ancient Jewelry

By Eric Thompson * Yesterday, Susan Grownin, a professor of metallurgy at Texas State University, made an odd discovery at a pawn shop. While stepping in to see if her daughter’s recently stolen violin had been pawned off at the shop, Professor Grownin noticed an odd ring of Egyptian design. The store owner, who in an interview was quoted saying “[The Ring] gave me a bad feeling. The thing is evil. I don’t know how I know, but I do. Unholy,” sold the ring to Professor Grownin for $35. Back in the lab, Professor Grownin discovered the ring was actually pure gold, putting its worth at $4,562. She also discovered, after an accidently closing a door on her hand which the ring was on, that the ring had phenomenal power to resist force. “Gold is a weak metal,” Professor Grownin said in an interview, “The ring’s ability to absorb massive amounts of force without bending, or even denting, is phenomenal!”

The ring was sold to the pawn shop by an anonymous person who was selling it because it had brought bad luck on his family. The pawn shop owner clearly had come to agree. (11/8/2006)

New Pyramid Found near Soleb, Egypt

By Jita Areh * Archeologists west of Soleb, Egypt have announced that they have found a new pyramid. Grander, and older, then the great pyramids in northern Egypt, the massive structure dates from around 10000 BCE. The date has been strongly contested since it is widely accepted that the Egyptian people had neither the technology nor the math to build the massive structure at the time. The pyramid also has a widely different structure: its hollow. The center of the pyramid sports a huge antechamber, which is completely empty; even the pharaoh’s casket is empty. The Pyramid of Ra, as it has been named by its discoverers, will shed light on a period in ancient Egyptian history which very little information exists. (12/3/2006)

January 16^th, 2007

I don’t think it knows I got rid of it. It’s still following me, stalking me. I nearly got a look at it today, and I think it may be bandaged. Why does it want the ring? I’ve started to grow concerned for my family, as my daughter told me at dinner that she thinks something is following her to school. It’s definitely not human, I know that, it doesn’t move quite right, but it’s certainly no animal. Unless it goes away, my family and I may have to move. Michelle, bless her, thinks I’m crazy, claims I don’t know its after the ring. And she’s right, I don’t. I just… I feel like that’s what its after. Was this the thing that disheveled our bedroom? Is this thing responsible for poor Sally’s disappearance? I think tomorrow I will buy a pistol, better to be protected.

Samson Peabody died on Saturday the 20^th of January of unknown causes at the age of 37. Samson was a loving father of two who had always been there when his family had needed him. He grew up in Houston with his single father, Freddy Peabody, and excelled in math in school. It was no surprise to anyone when he graduated from University of Texas with a degree in accounting and business. He married Michelle when he was 24 in a fabulous ceremony at his grandfather’s ranch. His children, Susan and Charley Peabody, 8 and 11 respectively, outlive him. He will be deeply missed. A memorial ceremony will be held at the Austin County Cemetery on the 3^rd of February at 3:00 PM.

Feburary 16^th, 2007

Professor Grownin,

It has come to the attention of the US Military that you are in possession of a unique ring with very unique properties. In the interest of further research to developing powerful new armor to protect the brave men and women serving our country, we are very interesting in purchasing this ring from you. We are presently offering a sum of $50,000 for the ring, and are very curious to hear your reply. Of course, in the interests of National Security, we request that you do not share the fact this request has been made. Please contact me at my return address.

We Hope to Hear from You Soon,

Jack Johnson

Jack Johnson

United States Department of Defense

March 23^rd, 2007

Magazaki Sakura

Q567 has started talking. It wants the “the ring.” I do not know exactly what this ring is, but I have heard that a peculiar ring has come on site for study by another group. I don’t know if there is a connection yet, but it is worth documenting. As for Q567 itself, it seems extremely urgent about this request, crying out to myself as well as my fellow researchers in a thin, raspy voice. It has become a point of study to discover where, exactly, this voice is coming from, as there is no voicebox, let alone a method of forcing air through it. Q567 now regularly beats its hands against the walls of its cell, trying, as far as we can tell, to break the walls and make an escape. I am writing a report regarding this to my superiors immediately.

March 25^th, 2007

Magazaki Sakura

Everything just went wrong. Under the supervision of 26 heavily armed soldiers, myself and a group of researchers proceeded with experiment UnU-844, which was simply to give the ring to Q567. In practice, the experiment was simple, to give Q567 the ring using a simple device to deliver the ring from a distance. The result, however, was far beyond anything we expect. Q567 quickly put the ring on, and disappeared. The entire facility has been searched, as well as the cell in which Q567 was held in. I have scoured the HSHR video again and again, but it’s always the same thing. In frame 20010456, Q567 has just put the ring on, and in frame 20010457, Q567 is gone. Barely 20 millionths of a second elapsed between those two frames, how could that be? This could cost me everything.

Classified

Possible Fate of Q567

On November 2^nd, 2007, Agent , in Egypt, sent several HR photographs of a skeletal figure walking of its own accord without any flesh or skin on any of the bones. The photographs have undergone great scrutiny, and have shown that the effects of age on the bones of this skeleton [Now Assigned Q577] are far beyond that observed in Q567. , head of forensics at the Houston lab, has dated the bones, based on amount, as well as type of damage, to 12000 BCE, noting the buildup of mineral deposits, as well as the general petrified nature of the bones. was contacted on November 15^th, 2007, and asked to fly to Soleb, along with Agents and , who observed Q567, to help in the event that Q577 is captured. Special Operations has been notified and Lieutenant and a team of specialists in operating in friendly territory will be flying to Soleb to attempt to track down and capture Q577. From there, they will be brought to a location at , Soleb, where will determine whether or not Q577 is Q567 or an entirely different specimen. In either case, a plane will be waiting at the Soleb airport to fly Agent , Agents and , , Lieutenant , and his team back to Area 51.

President Orders Evacuation of Soleb

By Jita Areh * The President of Egypt has ordered the evacuation of Soleb after the increased number of disappearances and reported sightings of the “dead walking the Earth.” A large religious group left two weeks ago to go to the Temple of Ra, the place where many believe the source of the horrors. There have also been an increased number of reports of desertion among the Egyptian military forces stationed there to try to keep peace. The interviews of these deserters hold a common thread: a deep fear of the both Soleb and the Temple of Ra. Scientists and theologians alike have not yet been able to give a sure name to the either the skeletal shapes themselves, or what drives them to this end. Rumors have been going around that desperate Egyptian military officials are suggesting a nuclear attack on the pyramid structure in an attempt to destroy the threat, whatever it may be. The United States responded with a cryptic message suggesting that a nuclear strike would only make things far worse. (12/23/07)

The following is as exact a translation as possible of tablets found by nomads in the Saharan Wastes sometime during 43 NE. Written originally in a form of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. They were turned over to the Collective Resistance in 44 NE.

The Master has returned, and we Rejoice! He does not give us time for celebration. Back from his Pilgramige, he brings a New Breed, and his sacred Ring with him! He pushes us, pushes us on. He wants the nearby settlement, and he wants it soon. It has been left to us to take it, and we are struggling, and he is angry and wrathful. We Rejoice at his coming, and he works to awake the 8. The others, he says, will be glad to know we have risen. Celebration! He says there will be. But first, we have much ado before. Rejoice! For the Dead King walks again! We will Undo what has been Redone, and we will Redo what has been Undone! Rejoice! They will join us in eternity, and become one with us,the dead!

Hope you Enjoyed!

Jumble, End Post.

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This is a short story I wrote while on the road.. if it can be called a short story. I may include tomorrow another short story I wrote.

Manifesto

Horrible things. Horrible things. Lazarus would pale. Horrible things. Inconceivable reaches. Dark Space. Atlantic Trench. Horrible things. God help us! Horrible things. Sleeping. Waiting. Willing. Underwater first. Killing own kind. Piecing together. Panic. Terror. Went to Ser’k. Last piece. Horrible things. Devil tried to stop. Can’t overcome. Horrible things. Awaken them. Awaken them. God save us! God save us! Horrible things. Try to stop them. Try to stop them. Call their brethren. Dark space. Torture. Pain. Death. Horrible things. Lazarus would pale. Lazarus would pale. Try to stop them. God can’t stop them. God can’t stop them. Awake. Black sun. Inconceivable. Horror. Lucky are those who die first. Stop them. Stop them.

Hope you enjoyed!

Jumble, End Post.

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