The Deserted Asylum Diaries.

[Pyper]

A S C E N D I N G

CLICK.

"Date: Saturday. October Twenty-fifth, Two Thousand and Fourteen."

Rippling.

"People keep, moving my stuff. My tools. They reposition, my chair. The decorations, are askew. Alarms, security cameras. I had one alarm, already. Ethy gave, me another. I put one up at, the front door. To the whole apartment. Then, to my work. It shouldn't be touched, be moved. Some of them could break. I would need, to find more. More materials. It wastes, time. Energy. I have more, than before. Less, than I need. The chair was wrong. Diamonded. Not square. "

CRACK CRACK CRACK.

"Simone met, me in the library. Honeymead's. We talked, she wanted to, teach me. Things, I don't know. Anatomical fixtures. Preparation methods. I told, her. About pairs. She argued, I disagreed. I threw books, but not with my hands. I nudged, the shelves. Things around me. I was upset. She left, after. I stayed, only for a while. The librarians noticed. They wanted to, call. Someone, to get me. Police.

I went home, I told Roderic. I went upstairs. I paced. Work, had to be done. I had, to finish her project. I couldn't. Other projects, needed their materials. I started on, that instead. I, have the skull. I, have to clean it off. Tonight. After, I collect more. Means, going other places. Not my usual, ones."

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[Pyper]

D E C L I N I N G

CLICK.

"Date: Sunday. October Twenty-sixth, Two Thousand and Fourteen."

Blood.

"I needed, to find, materials. New ones. I went in the woods. Roderic said, that they were, unsafe. I thought I was faster. I am, good at picking things. Out of people's pockets. I am quick. People, don't notice, when I take things. Sometimes. I went, into the woods. I wanted to find, things, like Roderic has. Like Bastian. I didn't find, anything like that. Only, a root. I don't, know what, I can use it for. I can ask Phoenix. She might be mad, at me. Because of the wounds. The things, in the woods. They, attacked. Tore at my dress. Pinned me. Put their hands through my chest. Cracked bone. Wanted my heart.

I wonder if, the hunters smell blood. If they, are provoked. By it. Two, shot. Many times. I had to, dig out the bullets. I couldn't, stitch. It bothers me. That I can't.

I am, recording this. Not in my usual, spot. In Roderic's apartment. I don't know, where to hide, this. People are listening. In the walls. I can hear, them moving, around. Restless. I need, to rest. I should, rest. Have to. I'll wrap the machine, in my jacket. Sleep on it. No one, will take it. Listen to it. Then, I can, hide it. At home. Tomorrow."

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[Pyper]

P R O G R E S S I O N

CLICK.

"Date: Monday. October Twenty-seventh, Two Thousand and Fourteen."

Practice, and perfect.

"Calix, helped me. Fed me. I couldn't eat. Not by, myself. There was, someone else. A woman. She said, to, call her. Never left, her name. I meant to ask, Calix, last night. He wanted to, redo, my stitches. Their work, my techniques, weren't satisfactory. I needed, to adjust them. The ones, on my stomach, I did. There was no, significant improvements. I wore, the long-neck sweater, over my dress. It, hid the stitches. On my chest. The fae, are fast. It was, worse, there. Patterns, messy. Uneven. Angle, was wrong.

I went, to meet. People, last night. I saw, Paige. I never said, that I was sorry. Not like, I should have. She didn't say, anything, about my. Talking. Speech. No one else, has. Since. But, I notice. It's frustrating. I, frustrate myself. Often. I don't, have a television. Not in the, apartment. Mine. I need things, to occupy myself. Keep busy. I have an experiment, something I need, to do.

Roderic is, still thinking. He hasn't said, that he was done. I haven't, seen him. Spoken much. That's considerate, not selfish. To give him, that space. Time. To think, without, me. Distracting. I could, practice. Articulations. Speech, sentence structure. Phrasing. Synonymous alternatives. If, I practice. I could say, the things, that I want to. So he knows. There's no, confusion. No guessing. I could say, what I need to. My end.

I need to make more copies."

CLICK. - END OF RECORDING.

[Pyper]

S E S S I O N S

CLICK.

"Date: Tuesday. October Twenty-eighth, Two Thousand and Fourteen."

If it doesn't work the first time.
Try, try. Again.

"He was, persistent. I let Calix, look at the heart. The wound, the hole. From the fae. He didn't, say anything, about the stitches. How bad, they were. They were, I knew it. Why didn't he, say anything. About it. He only said that, they needed to, stay dry. He said, something else. I don't, know what it means. He said, that, I am the first. The first, person that, he feels the need. To see a lot. He visits, a lot. Always, finds me. I don't want him, to come here. See me here. Listen to me. Know my, things. Phoenix, told him to, treat me. Like a childe. His childe. He doesn't, actually have any. Never found, the right fit. That one. That, was how he, explained it. Why would, Phoenix tell, him that? She, still loves me. Wants me, to be hers. Her childe. But she said, that. I want to, ask. She might, be angry, about the wounds. I will wait.

The first subject, has not. Taken to the things, that I stored in it. It couldn't, process. Couldn't formulate, what I needed. It sits, there. It doesn't, speak. It watches me, and it can, understand, my motions. Copy them, the way that, I do. First. I plan, to, continue to work. With it, tonight. I'm hungry. Calix, isn't around. I haven't, seen him. I have to hunt. To eat. To feed."

CLICK. - END OF RECORDING.

[Pyper]

E R R O R

CLICK.

"Date: Thursday. October Thirtieth, Two Thousand and Fourteen."

Shocking, isn't it?

"Tuesday, I went back... to the apartment and went to, sleep. I needed it and I noticed, last night, that everything was like before. The stitches always disappears. My skin must eat it, or push it away. When it's healing.

Ethan went into the work room. The camera never told me, that he was there. I moved it, to a different spot. So I could see. It can see, people coming in.

He was sitting, next to the copy. I had to move him, so I could work. I don't know why he was in there. What he was doing. What he was touching. I will, ask. I have to ask. I have to know.

I tried, again. I stored my things in the other me. The me that's not, really me. But I made it me. I gave it things it needed, to be me. Only certain things. What I need, to practice.

I broke it. It was a white flair, all that I saw. It was spectacular. I saw the atoms that made up, everything. I slowed down. Things, all slowed down. My thoughts were bottled up. It was better that first night. I didn't have, as much trouble. I practiced but I still, had to use something else. The computer, for voices. To speak. Now, it's fading. I feel it. I know it. It'll go away. I will have to try again. When it's completely gone. I will have to adjust, things. What I do, and how I react. To perfect this."

CLICK. - END OF RECORDING.

[Pyper]

I N C I D E N T A L L Y

CLICK.

"Date: Sunday. November Second, Two Thousand and Fourteen."

Be open.

"I have, decided to wait, on. Continuing, the project. I couldn't, the next night. I used, my energy in, other places. I have to record just the results, by themselves. I can't have them, in here. In a recording, about other things. Mix them. The next one, I will make. Of the first trial. In detail. The things, that, went right. What went, wrong. Then, begin the next trial. New copy. The other, split. Broke open, and, everything came out.

I saw, Charles. Before the party. His head, was shaved. I don't, think he likes it. He's waiting, for the hair. To come in. Hide the shape, of his skull. I liked, his costume. He told me, how to improve. Mine. I did, before, I got to the party. I was glad, I saw him. He gave me, a crystal. A rock. It feels nice, on my fingers. He said, to use it. To, manage stress. Help, with it. Counting helps. Some times. The crystal, could help, too. It helped Charles.

The party, was interesting. I met Abigail. She, dressed up. She used paints, and colored on her, costume. Harley Quinn. I don't know, who that is. I'm, curious, about the paints. About where, she got them. I could, use them. Mark straight lines. For the stitching. Practice, more precision. She turned, into an animal. Something, small. Because, she's an Allurist. I think. I can't, do that. I'll see her, soon. Ask her, about those things.

Phoenix brought someone else, with her. To the party. They came, later. Than everyone else. She, was a banana. He, was a monkey. His name, is Blake. I, never got to, speak to him. Calix, talked to him, a lot. Made him, go. Into another, room. To talk. I don't know, what they talked about. Maybe, Phoenix.

I asked, for his number. For Blake's number. Tonight. From Phoenix. I talked to him. He makes sense. More sense, than other people. Most, other people. His advice, I've taken, under more considersation. Things, can't change. Phoenix said that, from the beginning. Blake said, to, leave it alone. Be the way, I am. I, am not an act."

CLICK. - END OF RECORDING.

[Pyper]

A P O L O G E T I C A L L Y

CLICK.

"Date: Monday. November Third, Two Thousand and Fourteen."

Inspired.

"I woke up, today. I felt better. Monique. I saw, her face. Like the end of a, dream. She was there, just intangible. A ghost, some part of her. Zombies, posed no threat. Cut down, no problems. The wild ones, too. Dirty, snarling. And Mooncalves. I need their, bones. To make my piece. My instrument. My hobby. Nevaeh asked, once. What I do, would do, instead of work. I would play. Like I did, with my uncle. Do I, still know how to play? It was like, breathing, once. I need to try, at least. If not, I can sell, the piece. Someone, may want it.

I had to collect. To harvest. I require massive quantities of larger scale, bones. In order to complete this, project. Monique helped, with the idea. I knew where, I had to go. I went to the underground. I sat on the transit in Wickbridge. Went to Cherrydale. You drop, in a hole. The walls have coffins. Have death, skulls. Not ones that are, big enough. I have to take them, from the calves. To make, a proper, base.

I saw Simone there. Another person. White hair. And I've, seen it before. I've seen him before. I left her, a bag. It has the things, she works with. In it. We spoke. Talked about our argument. She misunderstood. I did, too. I thought she needed space, to think. That everyone does. She thought, when I didn't, come back and, see her. That I didn't want to know, her anymore. She gifted me, with more bones. Enough to start tonight, if I wanted to. I don't. Not tonight.

I found my old copies. Down there. Below the Earth. There were others there, too. Other faces. Nevaeh only, has one. Another woman, a man. Who are, they? I should ask Phoenix, if she knows. Who they belong, to. I could search, break them apart. Absorb the memories inside. Could, they work for me, like that? I can find, out, tomorrow.

I had, been texting Charles. We talked about, Phoenix. How she gets, mad. He helped me, communicate. Get her attention. I asked her, why she said. Those things to Calix. She assured me. I still don't know, why she said them. If she didn't, mean them, the way I understood. Were, they figures? Of speech. I'm afraid, to ask. We ended up, talking about our trip. So I put, in a inquiry. About vacation. I'd like, to leave. With just Phoenix.

I want, to know, what makes her. Mad."

CLICK. - END OF RECORDING.

[Pyper]

CLICK.

"Date: Sunday. November Nineth, Two Thousand and Fourteen."

Incommunicado.

"Black, and I were suppose to see each other. Last Tuesday. He said, that, that was my. Night, with him. I forgot. I have, done, the same. To Charles. Missed, our night. A planned one. Charles was, disappointed. I think, he used, that word. To describe, how he felt. That I didn't, show. Blake might be, too. Disappointed. In me. Then, Phoenix will be. Blake makes her, act not herself. Not how, she is. Other times. Most other times. Angry. I still should, text him. Call. ... I'll call.

With help. Simone, and Monique's. I finished, my project. New one. Almost. The hobby, one. I forgot, about this hobby. Maybe, because, of my hands. Afraid, that I wouldn't, be able to. Pluck the strings. The same. Like I use to with. Uncle Deacon. I still, need to find them. The strings. They need to be, tuned. And played with. For the sound. The right sound. I should, complete Simone's gift. I haven't, touched it. It's right, to finish it. I can give it, to her, next time I see her. Ask, to meet her pair. No. Her couple. A man, white hair. He snores. I see, him, a lot. In her head. More than, anyone else.

Ethan has been, resting in. The work room. With the copy. I don't know, if he knows, she can't be me. Only part, of me. A storage, of me. I should, tell him. I don't, want him to damage. The copy. Or for it, to hurt him. No sign, of Eli. Not in a week. Maybe more. He could be, in his spot. In the sewers. I try not, to look, in their heads. So much. People don't, like that. The peeking. I've been trying. Sometimes, I do. Something could be, wrong.

Phoenix, and I talked. About leaving, going away. A vacation. I've never, been to Italy. Not before. Not ever. They have gon-dol-as. They, are boats. I have never been, on a boat. I haven't seen, what else, they have. I should, research tonight. I was, given time. To go on vacation. I'm happy, that Phoenix, wants to spend time. With me. She has to, check, with Blake. See, what he is doing. He could, come with us. I don't mind. I should tell, her that. If he wants, to come.

I got, a text. When I am available. We will talk. About everything. I don't like, not knowing. I will, know soon. But things, can't change. No matter, the answer. If it is, yes. Or no.

I should prep, myself. Prepare. I need, to adjust. The experiment. Two copies, instead of one. They will, slow everything down. Make, me. Coherent. Articulate. Receptive.

I'll do that."

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[Pyper]

"Wednesday. December Third, Two Thousand Fourteen."

Migraine.

"I spent a, long time. Asleep. I rested, my hands. Legs. I hurt. I took others. Other copies. I wanted, to see what. They stored. What they had in them. They filled my head. It split. I don't remember what, I did. Those days. I couldn't, work. Not a lot. I polished the bone. Mooncalf bones. That I made, a guitar. I need to, take pictures of it. To put in the folder. My project folder.

Simone came, to see me. She wondered why, I didn't go to the, family gathering. I didn't know. The date. Or time. Calix will, have noticed. I should see him. Next. Others, too. I told Simone, that I want a hobby. Different than work. More to do. I said, hacking. Need to see, Saige. For Ethy, too. He asked. Don't know. How long, ago.

The man came. Into the apartment. He huddled, in the corner. Watched me. Never talked. He stayed two, nights. His shadow, lies in the corners of the, buildings. It stretches. I find it more. Now. Than before. I wish, I knew his name."


CLICK. - END OF RECORDING.

[Pyper]

C L I C K

"Saturday. December Sixth, Two Thousand Fourteen."

No Name.

"There's, a worm. It comes into, my apartment. You see the trail. On the floorboards. Its grime, in the carpets. On my sheets, my bed. It climbs up, slithering and inching. I never, feel it. Crawling in. Burrowing. It tells me things. About him, that man. The one that follows, me. That he knows, me. He knows where, I am. I can't, move. And him, not locate. Me. I don't know, to believe, this crawler. About what, it says.

I haven't, seen Charles. In a long time. I think, I should. See him. Tell him, about this person. Man. And the worm. I wonder where, it goes. When I wake, up. There's no, trail. Not after. Not leading out. Does, it stay in? Can, I hear it, breathing? It might, hide in the cracks, of my brain. Take things, away. Is it taking, the right ones?

I should, see Charles."


CLICK. - END OF RECORDING.