Diary Pages.

[Simon Ward]

As corny as this is to write somewhere deep down I believe a storm is coming. What kind of storm, I cannot say. Perhaps this is why I've been training in the darkness. Honing body and mind, plus there's the little matter of six dorf carbines with varying features, several hand guns, just as many uzis, two new blades, and bids for other weapons. My eyes look toward the new weapon cases in my home and I feel like I'm getting some paramilitary army ready.

Also, I feel like my fight with someone in particular is far from over. I'm reminded of this every time I see worry in someone else's eyes. The sight doesn't bother me. If I'm dragged into a fight I just want to show him and the world, I'm done being nice.

All the training also makes me wonder if I'm inadvertently alienating myself. I've read that Cristi and Quoth had a party. I did not get an invite but then again if you don't know your son is in the shadows, why send one? Too many things on my mind journal, diary, whatever you are.

-SW

P.S. I met someone that looks like Karen Gillian, I totally fangirled over this Amelia Pond look alike. Yeah, I have no shame.

[Simon Ward]

Ever feel like something is stirring in the darkness? The notion is hard for me to accept, but I can't deny it. To me it feels like something vast is stirring in the dark and it's not me.

For me I was reborn in darkness, molded by it, what others can see in, can be blinding to me, what is blinding for others is perfect for me. Such is just how I am.

Yet here I stand waiting for the ball to drop. Waiting for the thing int he shadows to reveal itself to me. For a while I have been training, getting stronger, because whatever is stirring is after me. And no this is not paranoia.

When you've spent more of your life as a criminal, a thief to be exact, you develop a sixth sense about when you're being hunted. That sensation is coming back in spades lately.

The cross comes for them, while my own personal winter comes for me.

[Simon Ward]

Sitting at home I realized something. Phantom of the Opera was playing on the television. The ending was near and I had a realization strike me:


Simon Ward sat at home watching the Phantom of the opera. Chrstine was in the Phantom's chamber, the mask was long since gone, and Raul showed up looking handsome yet war torn. She had a choice then went with Raul. They took gondola out and by now Simon rose from his chair. His gaze went to a mirror that he couldn't see himself in. His hands ran over the surface while singing along with Gerard Butler, "Only you can make my song take flight."

Going loud enough his upstairs neighbor, aka his mother, could hear, even if she didn't want to, "IT'S OVERRR NOOWWW THE MUSIIICCC OFFF THE NIIIIIGGHHHHTTTTT!" His own mirror shattered thanks to several punches from the same arm. Reflective glass embedded in his hand, some of it was shaken free from flesh and bone. Black blood spilled on the floor as Simon staggered to a dresser. With his good hand he pulled open a drawer and plucked something out then slipped it on.

Placing something over his face Simon nearly collapsed in front of the reflecting shards. Whether or not Simon actually saw this remained a question of sanity, but for a brief moment he did see something. The phantom mask from a Halloween costume not worn, from the very same movie, stared back at him. The half skull shape that covered the top part of his face just pierced into his soul.

The realization came to me as I saw that mask...I knew then that I was really him. I was really just like the Phantom.

[Simon Ward]

Like my mother before me, I have to know when to fold them. And at this table I was folding my hand and cashing out. Best to leave with some chips still in your pocket than none. One can only play a card game for so long before they realized it's rigged. The crooked table may be the only one in town, but I don't need to keep playing. Besides I still had a few things left that I brought to the table with me. I did not want to loose those too.

The Foundation would be a good home for me. I was ready to teach people about the Mystic road and the place was ready to have me. Our partnership was mutual. At least I could dive into my work for my own personal solitude. Yep, still like Mother before me I would just be buried in lectures instead of frilly things.

Times were going to be hard and for a while I wasn't going to be myself. And that would be okay because I would eventually bounce back. I'm too stubborn to stay down forever. For now Simon 0.5 would be about before 2.5 would rise. At least one good thing came from a lot of the chaos, at my core I was the good person I always wanted to be. I didn't do said deeds to impress anyone, I did it because it was the right thing to do. Knowing this made any hardship I was about to go through a much easier pill to swallow. I wasn't the bad guy. Just the one that hurts. And that would eventually pass just not any time soon.

[Simon Ward]

Leaving the table I found something interesting. Apparently I've angered someone out to put out an independent hit on me. And apparently I haven't angered them enough...only five hundred dollars. At least if it was me that was angry enough to put a bounty on someone I'd just fight them. I wouldn't put up some lame *** dollar amount with the hopes of proxy assassins to do your dirty work. The work of a pretentious coward.

[Simon Ward]

Hearing a certain song made Simon research borderline obsessively. The song was attached to a movie from the seventies or eighties, subsequent sequels then what could be considered a remake that was released on Christmas. The latter was how Simon became familiar with it.

Loaded and set in his music player Simon was ready to sing. Screw the neighbors, even if the person upstairs was his mother. Old western stylized guitar kicked in before backup singers screamed, "DJANGO!"

"Djannggooo, have you always been aloooneee?" Simon sang into a microphone he had set up into his music player turning it into a kareokee machine."Djangooo!" the backups screamed again before he resumed, "Djangooo, haavveeeee you nevvver looooved agaainnn?! Love will live oooooonn, list must goo oooo-aooohnnn. For you cannot spend your life...regretttinnnggg," his words flowed in the style of lyrics that reminded him of Elvis and even longue singers of yesteryear. Being trained for as many years as he was, Simon could hold his own fairly well. Deep down he missed singing songs like this.

"DJANGO!" Putting the microphone to his lips Simon's tune continued, "Djangooo, you must face another dayyyyiieeeeee." "DJANGO!" Closing his eyes, the man was excepting his servitude to the song, "Djannngggo, now your love hassss gone awwayyyy. Once you've lovedd herrrr. Now you've lost her whoooaawhooaaa. But you've lost her forrreeevvveeer, Djannnnggggoooo."

He was moving about putting his heart into the words, "Wheeennnn there are cloudss in the skiiiesss and they are graaa-eeaayyyyy. You may be saaddd but rememberrrr love will passs awwaayyyyy. Ooooohhh DJANGGGOOO, After the showers is the sun, will bbbeeee shinnningggg," his fingers plucked at imaginary guitar strings as he even memorized the guitar solo already. The performer did his homework.

"Once you've lovedd herrrr. Oooohhh-whoooooaa..Now you've lost her whoooaawhooaaa. But you've lost her forrreeevvveeer, Djannnnggggoooo. Wheeennnn there are cloudss in the skiiiesss and they are graaa-eeaayyyyy. You may be saaddd but rememberrrr love will passs awwaayyyyy. Ooooohhh DJANGGGOOO, After the showers is the sun, will bbbeeee shinnningggg, DJANGGGOOOO-OOOOOHHHH-YOU MUST GOOOO ONN-OOWHOONNN," he was moving to the beat and uncaring of how loud his vocals were getting. When the song was over he breathed out hard before laying down. The microphone made a thud that echoed through the speakers but the man didn't care. Deep down the song exhausted him more than expected.

[Simon Ward]

As the world washes away I get the feeling something still stirs in the darkness. Consuming me the feeling hasn't ceased and I find myself turning on a song. "What will we do with a drunken a whaler? What will we do with a drunken whaler? What will we do with a drunken whaler, earrrrllyyyy in the morniiiing?"

Forward the song presses onward talking about horrible despicable things to people. "Stuff him in a sack and throwwww him over. Stuff him in a sack and throw him ovverrr, earrrllyyyy in the morning," the little girl suggested. "Feed him to the rats for dinner, feed him to the rats for dinner. Feed him to the rats for dinner, early in the mornnning." Along with, "Shoot him through the heart with a loaded pistol, shoot him through the heart with a loaded pistol, shoot him through the heart," before it morphed into "slice his throat with a rusty cleaver."

All of these suggestions I once wanted to do to one single, solitary figure. Now, as the man who started to stir my peace I felt was moving in the darkness...I wanted to kill all four of them. Because if he does something it will domino into because then someone else will do something stupid and in the long run it'll hurt or get back to me somehow. Two souls in one body, the same conditions for two people, it felt like a married couple bickering really.

Would that presence in the darkness just fight who he needs to fight, and f*** who he needs to f*** already? I don't care if you call yourself Jacob, Wolfhead, Knight, Rago, Deathshead, Sentinel, Duran as tribute to that bad with that wolf song. Just, fight, f***, do whatever because I'm sick of whatever the hell happens after you stir in the darkness. Because either you get pissy or the person across from your table gets pissy then crap follows. And as I write these pages I'm sure I'm not the only one just sick of the drama.

*When Simon is done writing the latest entry he takes his cellphone out then promptly stabs it with a knife leaving the now destroyed phone pinned in place.*

[Simon Ward]

I see there's a twenty-thousand bounty on my head. Great, wonderful, what I like to wake up to in the morning...or evening...whatever time it is. Emily and I are broken up. Did it make me happy? No. We've been trying to work it out, she loved me, I loved her, but what will be an unsaid part of this story is all the times she went to the wolf.

At first I was fine with it because I thought she was going to a wolf. Then the visits became more frequent. He started to control her and her actions. I couldn't even dance with her at my own mother's wedding due to this. All I wanted that night. Hell, I was crying and didn't get a tissue from her. Once again due to the request.

Then she was gone for a while. During this time I found out the wolf's split personality, this was the part she was drawn to and the other part was married..., had the ability to shift freely. What I thought was just instincts like trying to stop a salmon from spawning...was probably done willingly. The two were bonded.

Eventually she broke free of the bond. We tried to work on us but I always felt like the other shoe was going to drop. I've died due to him. Gang mugging, a bit ago. I wanted it to work but dealing with his possessiveness I always wondered, "When would he come back?"

If you were dating someone that was sorta seeing someone else while you were seeing them the entire time, and this someone else made the person you were seeing do things so you couldn't be with them, would you have stayed around? Would you believe no matter how many times you're told this person wouldn't be back, that they still could?

In the back of my mind it felt like it was just time. There's more to the story, some of it has been said in rumors and whatever private houses where I'm now the topic of conversation. Some of it fabricated, some of it not, I'm not sure what's being said...just aware of a very high bounty on my head. Shame no one else will hear this part of the story.

[Simon Ward]

I've wronged a lot of people. Time to start setting things right. Even if it kills me ten times over.