Sunday 29 May 2016

In Which There Are Gifts of Plague and Roses

Dear Diary,

I know there are times when we have bad days. Everyone has them. The day when everything just seems to fall apart. Sometimes it starts with spilling your coffee or sour milk in said coffee or salt instead of sugar. Sometimes it's an alarm going off at the wrong time. Sometimes it's the pipes giving you cold water instead of hot. Everyone knows those mornings. 

My days don't usually start with bad mornings. Curtis and I have a routine, depending on who's up first. They make coffee. Curtis makes sure nothing in the house is sour or rotten. He has a thing about food and having enough of everything. I'm pretty sure it comes from the "wartime" and starving or not having enough. My bad day started when I got home from doing a tutorial on neurological pathologies. 

There were rose petals on my bed. And a note from Solomon saying he missed me. He literally broke into my house and left flowers and a note on my bed. There was a wave of rage, and a brief way of nostalgia. Maybe it's me or maybe it's the dirtbags I bring home, but all of them tend to do shit like this. Quiet reminders of a love they hold. Alistair would leave haikus in my pockets, about the battlefield of our love. I still have one.

Maybe that's why I felt the need to go end it. The number of lovers I've killed is kind of grossly high. I didn't bring my bow. Just my knives. When I found him he was discussing something with a demon. I... decided I didn't need to hedge my bets and just walked up yelling at him. It wasn't the best plan. He was, as usual, an ass about it, and somehow assured me stalker-like behaviour was in fact a turn on. So, well, I tried to hit him. Phoenix (the demon) got in the way by dancing method and pissed off, I walked away.

Merov was on my mind. He's on it a lot and that bothers me more and more. There's something terrifyingly fascinating and even impressive about him, but I can't help but feel he's a threat, and something I should be squishing like a bug while I can. I decided I needed an oracle. Someone who could tell me shit on him that wasn't having touchy feelings towards him, like my wayward roomie was. 

Turns out, wandering around going off of bad info on where to find an oracle while there's unrest in the werelion community is kind of like walking through a barnyard and trying not to get shit on your boots. I stepped into the middle of a fight with a bunch of the lions. Of course they were pissed this was all my fault for killing their Mufasa, so they came towards me, angry as riled bees. I took out the knife and said something. It was enough to make them back off.

I should've left it alone. Instead I told them that Merov was the one who had given me the sword to kill Simba or whatever his name was. They told me they didn't care. Because who cared about Merov's dog. Everything in me told me to kill them. Of course my reputation went from being a badass twisted killer to the dog of the King. Instead I walked away, even though it took everything I had in me.

Finally I called Merov. I'd had enough and I needed to talk to him figure out whatever was happening. I needed something to assuage the mounting feeling that he was bad, awful evening. In a way that I hadn't felt in awhile. When he answered he told me Curtis was in the hospital. Naturally I showed up as quickly as possible. Some wizard named Carla had shot him and I was about done with people hurting Curtis. Curtis started talking quickly about some ghoul plague and the fae party that was happening, which I hadn't really thought much of, and I told him he could be shot later, we had to go stop ... whatever... ghoul plague was.

A nurse came in and put something in the IV drip. Derek showed up minutes later to start telling the nurse what she was doing was wrong. Of course they took it to another room, but he had given me a look to say... well, that he may be in trouble. After he didn't return I got up and found the crazy bitch stabbing him. My attempt to get in the way just resulted in being knocked back and the nurse stabbing Derek again. Curtis and Merov came out, Curtis did some mind fuckery thing and I grabbed Derek. We got the fuck out of there, but Curtis was still hurt and Derek was bleeding in a serious way.

Curtis and Merov took Merov's car because the truck couldn't take everyone. On the ride I called Phoenix, that demon from earlier. I offered up a favour later for Curtis and Derek being healed. The demon agreed, like they always fucking do. Then Derek began to bleed rapidly. It didn't kill him and I managed to keep the truck on the road as a nurse emerged out of the blood and started to heal him. It was fucking insane. Derek started screaming and freaking the fuck out. I couldn't blame him.

I remember when I was just a human amongst monsters. Ten years ago was a long time ago but feels like yesterday sometimes. I haven't learned any lessons. I've just learned not to touch mortals. Derek listened to me as I told him to calm down and we had a talk about, well, how he was managing. I want to help him, but I don't want to encourage him. The deeper he gets the more the odds are he won't walk away one day. I can't be there every time to pull him out of the fire. Even if I wish I could. 

He seemed to be dealing as we pulled up to the party. Curtis and Merov were dealing with some woman. Curtis had this briefcase and was somewhere between running the fuck away and lost in anxiety or a sudden vision. I've seen it before. It was possibly the worst time for him to tap out, but I wasn't going to let him get hurt again. I grabbed the bow from behind the seat and shot the bitch. Naturally she tossed a vial of whatever the fuck she had at me.

It didn't... feel... like anything. Whatever gaseous infection had entered me was undetected. I glanced at the time just to make sure I could time how long infection took. Tenzin stared at me, that fucking weasel of a wizard, and said he may know a way to help but dick all to do it. So I walked over and made sure to give him contact so he'd get sick too, potentially. Ghoul plague. I was about to be an enemy of Curtis'. I wanted to hug him, to apologize, to do something to stop whatever guilt he was about to suck down into the void of his mind, but instead, he looked at me and something fucking weird happened.

It's nothing I can explain. It felt like being unzipped, having my insides scooped out, and then having insides poured back inside. I didn't feel right inside, but I also wasn't becoming a feral ghoul. Curtis looked furious and afraid all at once. Then explained that he had... pushed... ghoul plague into the future with his mind. There was a hard moment when I was grateful and terrified of him all at once. This was the first time I had ever seen Curtis move time. Or consequences through time. I had no idea he could do that. And no idea what that meant in the long game. 

Merov convinced the wizard to lock up the plague suitcase in his sanctum that was... pretty, actually. In a catalogue sort of way. Derek, Tenzin, Merov, Curtis, and myself all locked it away. We all have to be present in order to unlock it again. So until I fall down dead from it sometime in the random future, the world is safe. Again. 

But it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like Curtis had become more monstrous. That Derek had gone deeper down the rabbit hole. That Tenzin was still busy scamming people instead of helping. That Maeve didn't give a flying fuck. That Merov had inserted himself in a way to gain power again. And that I had killed again without stopping, without asking questions, because someone had hurt Curtis. 

Every day I get a little more convinced there's no going back. The ghoul plague in the IV bag nurse evil had hooked up came from my research lab. All my work on homologous recombinations on unnatural genomes began to spiral in my mind. Someone had taken my research and reversed it. Someone had used everything I had been working at, trying to find a curse for myself, for my fucking genetics, and weaponized it. The only person who had access to the research and blood was my advisor. Who thinks Curtis beats me. 

The only thing I can do is destroy it all and burn it to the ground. It's too dangerous to research. 

I just need to accept that I'll always be a monster. 




Thursday 19 May 2016

In Which I've Learned to Waltz

Dear Diary,

A decade. That's how long it took me to come back here and read about what a fucking useless person I was. There's nothing like reading your old bullshit and realizing "Fuck, I was one hell of a teenage tragedy trope." Maybe this doesn't happen to everyone. And maybe I'm still bitter about it all. Ten years isn't long enough to get over any of it.

Boston is a shit hole of a supernatural city. I've carved out a small space, a place where assholes won't bother me. Not since the last time one of them broke into the apartment and a great big mess was made. That hasn't happened in awhile.

I don't know why I'm writing in here again. Maybe because my spidey-sense is tingling and I can feel that some fucked up shit is headed my way in a way I can't explain, or maybe because therapy told me that writing shit down can help. Never helped before, mostly. It did make me feel less alone.

It was 3 am when this latest adventure started. I mean, it started a decade ago, but let's not talk about what happened between Samael and now. Let's pretend I'm just an average hunter in Boston going to med school and there's nothing complicated going on at all with me. Thanks. I appreciate it.

3 AM. Curtis, my roommate and sometimes, well, fuck buddy, called me because he had an elaborate version of a bad dream. I grabbed the truck and we headed to the random location that his quest box appeared at. Maeve (local fae bitch) was there, bleeding out on the ground, along with another hunter I've heard of in passing. We're very rare. So we hear of each other pretty easily.

Half an hour later we were in the hospital and Maeve was making me promise I'd come back. Derek, a local human whose ass I saved a month or so ago, is one of the nurses there. He was tending to her and the hunter, keeping them out of the lime light of the ER. And well, he's pretty flirtatious. I mean, I assume he is. It takes someone with balls of steel to flirt with me now-a-days. And he did. Maybe it's just because he's human.

Anyways, that outstanding weirdness aside, I got a text from Merov, a playboy millionaire. Normally I'd say fuck it and let Batman sort his own shit out. But he keeps giving me the weapons I need to kill bad shit in the city, and really, you can't ignore when your sugar daddy (ew, no, not like that) sends out an SOS on his phone. Before Curtis could stop me, I promised Maeve I'd be back and off I went.

The penthouse was in flames. Tenzin was coming out of the building. He's a scam-artist kinda-wizard with a penchant for demon troubles. Troubles I regularly help him with. The little fucker was running the fuck away from the scene. Not surprising, but really? C'mon.

Merov was on top of the opposite building, threatening somebody or something. I couldn't really see. He seemed to have everything in hand. Really I just took out the fuckers that were running away. Rule 25: Never leave survivors. I mean, in theory you want people to know you're a badass. You don't need survivors to share that story. You just need gore. And remains. There wasn't time to make a scene, so the vamps bit it with the bow. Fish in a barrel.

Batman wandered down with a rocket launcher and told me the Amber Vamps needed us to pay a visit. We argued briefly about this, mostly because I don't take sidekicks and Merov wanted to be a side kick. He pretty much pushed until it was either I kick his pretty ass or I let him go with me. I didn't want the Amber Vamps to have time to prepare. And Merov had the rocket launcher. So he got in the truck and off we went.

The Amber Vamps are (well... were) lead by Sultan Kazzam, an incompetent asshat of a vampire who annoys the fuck out of me. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's a showcased magician based on how he dresses, but I guess immortality rots the brain. I've yet to meet a clever vampire who lived.

On our way Curtis called. God love him. He's always trying to save everyone. Everyone. Good, bad, the dudes with the guns. Doesn't matter. He wants peace. Badly enough he's willing to throw himself into the middle of danger to do it. I guess there were kidnap victims or hostages or something with the Amber Vamps and he was gonna get them out. I told him to hurry up. I had no idea what was going to happen and I couldn't lower my guard to worry about a bunch of humans. Worst hunter ever right? I'm no Buffy.

The warehouse was a great target for the rocket launcher. I got out of the truck and grabbed it to start loading. Merov started talking about going in there and saying hi. It's like he actually doesn't understand battle strategy. Rule Number 8: Shoot first. Shoot everything. No questions. There's no need to announce yourself when you have a rocket launcher. Even the vamps knew how to use it on Merov.

Another argument later I'm walking towards the warehouse with my holy knives and a pretty pissed off look on my face. Why the fuck Merov wants to say hi before we slaughter these assholes, I don't even know. Probably some sick rich boy fantasy. Whatever. Let him get his ya-yas off if that's what it takes. Stupid asshat. I called Curtis and put the phone in my pocket. It was time to dance.

A head rolls as we walk in. Guard vamp. Remember, Rule Number 13: No one gets out alive. Merov called out Kazzam. Except he called out everyone. He said some shit and the vamps threw themselves on the ground in fucking terror. I kinda looked at him, wondering what the fuck he was playing at, when Kazzam ran the fuck away.

I went after him. Arrowed his head to a board and then brought him back. The weirdo vamp Merov had brought with us, the one had interrogated on the roof top, who, turned out, Merov had promised a cure to in exchange for help, began to stab the body. I cut his head off. Cure delivered.

Curtis arrived with Maeve and the hostages. I guess blowing the building up would've killed them. I wanted to kill the rest of the Amber Vamps, wipe out the nest, but Curtis and Merov wanted to go. It's important to have the appropriate amount of alcohol after a kill. Curtis knew this well. And Merov invited us to his place.

Turns out his cottage is a mansion a short flight away by helicopter. Rich people. I suddenly remembered Curtis mentioning a dude who took him on a helicopter and the wicked weekend they had. Must've been Merov. Gross. But whatever gets my roomie off, I guess.

Merov. He played me. The entire ride to his 'cottage' I could feel the anger brewing inside me. He had used me as effectively as I would've threatened someone with a rocket launcher. I was there to be his meat. The weapon. To make his reputation. All those times he'd ask me questions after a hunt on his balcony, it was just to get him where he needed to get. He had started a dangerous game and I had opened the door to him.

That was ending. Now.