Clouded Thoughts

[Spade (DELETED 5913)]

OOC Note: This is a journal based on the thoughts of Curtis Spade. Nothing special about it, just a regular old notebook with the black and white blotches all over it. Says Notebook on it.



Date: 12/22/2014
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My name is Spade, and if this journal is ever found then it is clear that something has happened to me. Or you're just a nosey ****. Before I went to prison, I had a group of friends that organized certain things to fund the way we live. Seems like a lifetime ago, but it was only six years back that I started a war I wanted nothing to do with. Had I been smart, I'd have left them a message to stand back and let whatever happens, happen. I lost a lot being locked away. When I got out, all I wanted to do was see my father one last time before he passed, but I was a day too late. So I got myself smuggled into Canada, and all of a sudden everything became so confusing.

I used to think that vampires were fake. Some scary story to keep kids in line. But when I saw that woman shooting that gun in the warehouse, I knew she was going to change my life. I just didn't think she was going to end it. But I wanted so badly to disappear, that I'd have tried anything. If she told me she'd have to turn me into a tiny little mouse to find my freedom, I'd have taken it. Even now as I'm writing this, I'm full of such a rage that I can't help looking at someone and wondering what they'd look like as a corpse. As a human being, I've only killed two people. I've hurt a lot, sure. But killed, two. You know what they say. Never give a dog blood, because eventually he gets a thirst for it. Only, my thirst is never quenched. ...And I'm not a dog.

I remember being a child in the backyard of my mothers house. Playing with the kids of the neighborhood. Most of the time it was cops and robbers. We'd ride our bikes with the cards in the brakes so they sounded like motorcycles. Chase each other, beat the **** out of each other, and call it a night. No worries. All fun. But more importantly, we knew how strong each other were and where they could help us. The life dream was to get rich, get old, and die happy. Most of them never saw passed their teenage years. It used to make me sad but now I look at this world, especially as a vampire. And I think to myself, at least they can't be someone's food.

I just think it's funny how I used to worry about different things other than how long will it be until the whole world knows about vampires. And how dangerous will it be? I sometimes dream of myself being beaten and bloodied up. Or dead. It brings a certain peace but at the same time, what happens to a vampire when they die? These are questions I should ask Velveteen, but she's a busy woman. I try not to become a burden. But if I have to die, I hope it's as slow and painful as possible. I wouldn't kill anyone any differently.

I'm checkin out now. Whoever you are that's reading this... Welcome to my head.

-C.

[Spade (DELETED 5913)]

Date: 12/30/2014
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It feels like it's been four hundred years since I got to see anyone that might have known me for who I really am outside of this city. I found Kenlie, which is interesting to see her part of a motorcycle fan club thing. I personally hate motorcycle clubs. But that is neither here nor there. In the past week some interesting things have happened, I've gotten to know my sire a little bit more. Met a few people in my bloodline, but I won't lie. I didn't feel very welcome nor connected to any of them outside of Velveteen and Missy, A.K.A., Every. I'm sure they have the best intentions, but I am a special breed. I tend not to change myself for anyone, and some can consider me ignorant for that. Oh well.

I have this need to kill that can not be satisfied no matter how many lives I take. I started off just killing the animals in the hunting ground, then that became too easy. So I heard of this place they have blocked off, bunch of zombies and ****. Went in there, killed some of them and some freaky looking monsters. Even a few feral vampires. None of it worked. I went to the projects though. The smell just reminded me of home. I killed a lot in there. It was a feeling I'll never forget. But my actions caused me to take multiple wounds. In the past week I've been shot five times, and it is never fun getting hit with a bullet.

Every performed some sort of surgery on me to remove the slugs. No matter how badly I wanted to scream, I couldn't let her see the pain I was in. Maybe I couldn't show myself either. I don't know what it is, but there is something hidden about her that I can't explain. It's certainly not her sense of humor, dumping me in a freezing lake of ice. Or teasing me for giggles. She has good intentions though, behind that shield of **** off, she cares a lot. I can see it in her.

She let me move into this apartment, and let me tell you. The amount of ******* beauty products in this bathroom is disgusting. ...Reminder, go out and buy some soap and shampoo. Because this honey stuff should only be scented on a woman. My skin is nice and smooth, sure. But I feel like the kids I used to kick the **** out of now.

Anyway, **** it man. I'm checking out.

-C.

[Every]

12-30-2014

Dear Spade,

I am a nosey ****, but you're the idiot that left your journal on my coffee table despite knowing I come in here occasionally. Considering it looks like my one for college, it was your damn fault.

Call me Missy in writing or person and I'll shoot your dick off. It'll grow back.

Stop killing gangsters and humans, if you need a challenge, make yourself useful for ritualists and go kill mountain lions or bears. We use their hides and fangs from time to time. Don't feel like an animal killer? You shouldn't be too weak to take on an ancient in the catacombs. Micah and I use unholy relics. You'll get your aggression out and I can continue to do what I do. Win-win.

Also, stop bitching about my beauty products of you're going to use them, Priss. That honey **** is good for the skin and if you use all of it, I will teleport you into the lake and hold you under until the water refreezes over so you'll go missing until it dethaws. Or until Vel summons you.

Whichever comes first.

Enjoy smelling like a girl.

Every.

[Spade (DELETED 5913)]

12/31/2014:
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Today is New Years Eve. I used to dream about this day when I was locked up, thinking maybe I'd get to see my dad when I got out. Maybe smoke or drink with him. Talk about the good memories we had before everything went down the toilet. I guess that's the kind of **** life throws at you. We were happy without my mom, I can't really remember what it was like being around her. After he found out I'd taken lives though, he just couldn't deal with it. Blamed himself, but he didn't understand that it was my decision. The game I played had a string of rules attached to it, I knew what I was getting myself in to.

The last time he came to visit me in prison was two weeks before I was released. He seemed really, really happy. The smile on his face was one I'll never forget, it was the last one I ever saw. He asked me if I regret the lives lost surrounding everything that's happened. Hoping me getting shanked would have changed my outlook on life. It only made me worse, really. I felt more anger. More untouchable. No one could kill me, I thought. I looked at him and said that if it was me on the other end, they'd have showed no mercy. I'm not a better man than that, pop. Man, if you could see the bodies I've laid out now. It's no wonder you took your life before I came home. But I wish you didn't, only so I could tell you I'm sorry.

Oh well. Another year gone, I won't mind celebrating by myself again. I turned my phone off and left it in the apartment so no one could reach me, and I have my guns and ammo. I think I'll be alright. I think I'll go to the graveyard and smoke. Maybe dig myself a bed to rest in, so I can be left alone for the evening.

-C.

[Spade (DELETED 5913)]

01/07/2015
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The world is a dark place. As time passes in this new life I lead, I wonder to myself: What is the point? Where did all of this make sense to whoever placed us here? With every passing hour, the anger inside of me boils and boils to a point where I can't feel the heat. As I move with every distraction given to me, the only feeling I have is that none of these people give a **** about me. They only care what I have to offer. The scary part is, I'm unsure what I feel most nights. This anger, is it a distraction from a level of sadness? Do I miss my father, or do I hate him for doing this to me? Did he love me, or did he hate me for doing that to him?

In all of these questions I get the same answer, violence. I see it, I kill it. I cover my tracks, put a smile on for those surrounding me, but inside I want to rip everything apart and burn everything down. I'm sure that in her own way my sire truly cares about me. The way she checks on me is more than anything anyone's given me in my life. But is she checking because she cares, or because I have the possibility of becoming a rabid animal that needs to be put down? Maybe both. I'm not easy to care about. But I recognize the look in her eyes, and her loyalty is nothing to question. I smoke massive amounts of weed to try and feel any sort of feeling outside of homicidal rage. I think all that does for me, is make me sink deeper. Because I feel nothing I'm supposed to feel.

I've been going to your cabin on a regular basis to stock her fridge with blood and pack clothes inside of your bedroom. I like being around you, for reasons unknown to me. I feel a peace through the drama we have in every meeting, because it's at the very least, real. I don't question your motives nor your emotions around me, because you made them clear to me. Maybe that's why I stick so close to you. I wish that there was a way to make everything go away for just, ten minutes. Give me some time with my pop, or some time with old friends who passed on to a life with no war. In all these years, I should have been the one to die first. Now I'll never die. If we are given the destiny we have based on how we treat others, then I should be burning in deepest, hottest pit of hell.

I want to make something of this curse. I want to make something of myself, more than anything. Show my father and everyone who told me my skill set wouldn't get me anywhere, that I made it. If it takes a couple bullet wounds, or stab wounds, oh well. I think it's time I let this anger, this hate, be my advantage. Not my downfall. Yes, I went to prison. Yes, I've taken lives. Yes, I've lost a lot. If I can't get passed this now, will I ever? I guess I'll find out the next time you read my journal.

I miss you, you know.

-C

[Every]

Any entry written by Every from this point on has been added in as an extra sheet of notebook paper folded up and slid into Spade's journal.

1-10-2014

Spade,

One thing I've learned about this life is that while some have a lot of answers, only you can answer what you think is the point. You were strong enough to survive the turning, so clearly something inside you has a will strong enough to survive. People suck, flat out. That doesn't change regardless if you're a human or a vampire. You have to find those that don't and hold onto them. When it comes to your anger, it's really possible that you're sad and deflecting. I know this because I generally do the same - for some, its an easier coping mechanism to let out rage. But, I don't doubt that your father loved you.

If he didn't, he wouldn't have gone to see you while you were locked up. He would have just let you stay there without seeing him. Also, don't blame yourself for his death. It's difficult, but if your father took his own life there was nothing that you could do about it and as shitty as it may seem, that's the truth. He may have been upset with you and what happened, but we all have demons we run from and some are inescapable.

It probably is a mixture of you being rabid and caring, though, with her checking on you. You did confirm the level of violence that I told her about that night at the bonfire. I don't think she wants you to end up at the barrel of her gun, and I know I'd rather you not end up at the edge of my blade. Even if you are a massive thorn in my side, you're a decent guy. And if you ever repeat that I'm going to smack you.

That's not true, you know. We die, but only when you decide for it to be eternal or when you die outside of Harper Rock that it happens. Something about this place allows us to preserve and return from the Shadow Realm, our hell. Colorless, windless. Still. There's screams and every now and then, others attack to steal some of our spirit there. It's not pleasant. And yes, I know you have been. I'm usually around, just in shadows or Desdemona tells me she's seen you come and go. I don't get why you bother while others don't. But, I'm glad I give you some level of peace, Curtis. After everything that's gone on this last year, at least that's one positive thing I guess.

Why don't you try writing to your father or your old friends, while they'll never see it, maybe it'll give you the closure you need. Fate had other plans for you and rather than be miserable with it, accept it. Embrace what Vel gave you. You aren't the only one that has done questionable things in the past, so shut up and move on.

You can get pass it, but we can't make you. Only you can decide when and how.

It's always weird to hear when you've been missed.

Every.

[Every]

This entry has been written directly into the notebook.

12/4/2016

I found this today. I don't know if you ever read my last entry, or if you will ever see this, but I felt the need to write in here. Looking back through the past entries, I'll understand if you never return to Harper Rock. If you never return to me. As hard as it is to write and accept it, I don't mind whatever happens because what happened between us.

I didn’t think I would ever find a love that felt electric, that drew me to you at a regular note. I didn’t trust that I would be able to find someone who cared for me even when they felt the rest of the world could **** off. You reminded me what it was like to be whole, even when I felt broken. And for that, I doubt I can ever hate you for leaving.

I don't hate myself for caring about you, either.

It'll be two years in less than a month that I started to fall in love with you, Curtis, and I don't regret anything that happened between us. I feel like a sap writing these things. I hope you are safe, wherever you are.

Eve.