So Fucking Tired

I drove Doomsy out to a different community and ditched his ass like I said I would. I thought that might buy me some time in case he had any “friends”. He’d have to figure out where the fuck he was and find a place to make a call before contacting anyone to let them know I was on the road and to come pick him up. Of course, the Tailor could take him wherever he wanted, but I thought it couldn’t hurt to take that fucking precaution.

Too bad it was all for fucking nothing!

I drove for a couple of weeks trying to figure out where the fuck I was going to go next. When I had to sleep, I pulled off the road into one of the fuckton of gravel pits this province has. People use them as camping spots, even though they’re not supposed to, so some nights I was parked next to a couple of RVs. Sometimes their owners were still awake and willing to make some friendly small talk. Two nights ago, I found myself alone in one of those spots. I went to sleep, but something woke me up only an hour later.

You cuntcopters ever wake up and know something is wrong before you see it?   

Well, I sure as fuck did. Maybe it’s some kind of monkey brain, self preservation shit, I don’t fucking know. What I do know is that I felt really fucking uneasy, so I started the car and turned on the headlights.

There was the Tailor with a body impaled on one of his tendrils. It was Doomsy. I guess refusing to kill him pissed the Tailor off enough to do it himself. He then proceeded to fucking fling the poor kid at my car, cracking my windshield but thankfully not breaking it. I reversed, causing his corpse to fall off, before peeling the fuck out of there, screaming in shock and rage all the way.

I’ve been driving nearly non-stop since then, only pulling over to clean the blood off the car and take a piss. Energy drinks and coffee can only get you so far though, and if I kept going like that I would have ended up in a fucking ditch, so I found this shitty rundown motel and got a room. I know that this place isn’t any safer than my car, but I need a break from it after what the Tailor did. I still wanted to try to type this up before passing the fuck out, hoping it would help me get my head back together.

 

All that shit I went through didn’t make a single fucking difference. The kids still died.

 

God fucking damn it.

Another Voice

We started hearing it a couple of days ago. The voice of the thing we’re looking for. Wolf says it’s nothing to worry about. She says to think of it like frog legs twitching when you put salt on them. They aren’t alive but the chemical reaction makes them “dance”. By getting closer to it, we’re acting as the salt, and what we’re hearing is the reaction.    

I really hope she’s right. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me thanks to the sensory deprivation, or maybe it’s just the fucked up way that sound works here, but it seems like it’s moving. Sometimes it’s further away, sometimes closer. A lot closer.

The voice is hard to describe. It’s kind of like a choking cry that I can feel in my chest. I’ve been looking for something to compare it to, and this is the closest thing I’ve found.

It’s mixed with this disgusting wet noise, and it sounds hostile and intelligent in a way I can’t explain…. I should probably stop thinking about it.

Come on Hart don’t freak yourself out. You’ve dealt with plenty of fucked up shit before. The thing is dead. Wolf killed it herself.      

We’re going to get there and she’s going to fix this place. I just need to trust her and hold on a bit longer.