Zodiac's Grimoire and Diary

[Zodiac]

Volume 13, Page 51
2/4/2018 5:23 AM

A type of silence has fallen on this place now. As if the town itself is holding its breath while waiting for the next wave of dread to fall upon it. This place has endured much over time and so has those who dwell here, and it would be no surprise to see some of the more mortal among us seeking a more calm and sedate life leaving this place and seeking safety and sanity elsewhere. Even some of the not so mortal are considering such things now as well. Is that so surprising? Just because some of us were turned did it mean all of our values, hopes and dreams were suddenly corrupted, warped, or shattered in the process?

This place– Harper Rock– is itself a nexus of sorts. Not to be confused with the Nexus that allows the turned to return from physical destruction. As far as all my digging and research has determined, this town (or this area of land it was built upon,) has been a focal point for things beyond the norm over a space of time some might find surprising. Like a magnet. It calls both the living and not so living to it over the passing of time and it brings out the worse in all in the process. A wound on the surface of this world that refuses to heal, but grows more infected as time continues. Various germs and viruses plague the flesh in the forms of fadebeasts and other nightmares arisen from the depths of the earth or from the Nexus above us. How many forgotten vaults into the past has been discovered here? How much time was invested in their creations? How much more lays waiting– patient and potent– to be brought back into the light of day and unleashing even more that will make our latest discoveries pale in comparison in the depths of madness and perversions they carry within themselves? Ready to spread and further the infection to the unsuspecting around us? Festering wounds waiting for the unwary to lance them and release what lurks within.

Somewhere in the depths below our feet, a group of unknowns (at least to me) are facing goddess knows what right now (possibly.). Will common sense– that oh so rare concept– exert itself against all odds or will vampire arrogance rule the day yet again? Is inevitable I suppose. Why stop now when you are having fun and all that noise. Just stick it with a sword and see what happens. It’s worked for us before. Right?

Since I have no clue what is happening (that is– if anything is happening) I could not say how I would react to the situation. I failed to find a key so that is the end of that. All I can do is pray that some on my short list did NOT find one. Of course , with my luck….

With Harper Rock’s luck….

With the world’s…

As a person who was brought up to embrace and learn from the supernatural, even I am being forced to consider that enough is enough. Nothing is being ‘learned’ from this at all. Nothing to be embraced except faith in firepower. Nothing to be discovered except more of the same. It’s like living in a goddamned monster movie marathon waiting to see what the next creature of the day appears.

Somewhere, there has to be a line that separates this infection from the rest of the world.

Perhaps it is time to seek this place (real or imagined) out.

[Zodiac]

Volume 13, Page 64
2/9/2018 2:41 AM

Round and round…

One would hope for a distraction while waiting for the proper moment to act. To relax, ease the tension, in order to restore focus.

Sadly, the only thing jumping in my face currently is the annual whine fest of love.

I have ranted on this subject many times in the past. Both the living and not so living going full tilt crazy over the matters of amore. If it happens, it happens. Simple! There is NO MAGIC CURE FOR THIS ISSUE!

Yes, there are such things as love ‘spells’ and ‘potions’, but they are more narcotic rather than romantic. It is a form of mental bondage actually and once the spell or potion wears off, the view that was forced upon them evaporates. Thus, in order to ‘keep’ your new love, the process must be done repeatedly (which can get expensive). Another thought comes to mind. Something I have noticed among the night feeders even more than the humans.

Love is a fleeting season by nature, and for many– once the charm and newness wears off, disinterest begins to set in and some begin to seek out the next ‘love’ of their lives. People were never meant to be disposable (at least in my view) but people seem to be locked into such patterns. Once the thrill has passed, its time to drift on to the next one. In that respect, perhaps love spells are best. Use another till they no longer interest you, then let them go. It seems to be a thing with vampires. Love does not last. Friendships are different, but even they can suddenly shift into sworn enemies with a simple disagreement. I have seen it happen too many times and experienced it.

I imagine there are some out there who have managed to get it ‘right’ and so have some humans. But what I get in my shop are the ones grasping at straws. Wondering why no one will take a chance on the joy that is them (and sometimes the reasons why some will not take that chance is legion). If I ever felt like a con artist in my life’s work it is during this time of year. No one wants to hear the truth– especially on this subject. To be fair, some have taken my advice and suggestions to heart and found what they were seeking.

But so few. Too few.

Even my own ‘love life’ tends to be a bit of a disaster. I suppose I could whine and cry about it, but nothing would change. Anyone that grows close to my heart vanishes eventually. Poofs! (Sometimes I am tempted to get a red hour glass tatted on my belly. Just saying. Then I could hang out with the spider people for sure.) Anyway, the day of Love is over rated in my view. Love comes when it comes and it doesn’t follow a calendar. Accept it, enjoy it, get and give all you can while you are in it, and accept the fact nothing lasts forever. Not love or friendship or even vampires.

[Zodiac]

Volume 13, Page 77
2/24/2018 7:53 AM

The deed is finally done.

We met in the center of the pattern we had forged using five innocent lambs and offered up our sixth and final lamb to the Goddess in our cry for help. There was an excitement in the air, but also tones of sadness as well. Perhaps some of mine have developed a taste for this, so I will be keeping a close eye on some of them now. This will not be a habit or the norm. This was an act of desperation that was only done when there was no other way left open to us and when my time finally comes, this dark chapter of my continued existence will be dropped into the scales against me I think.

The only regret I have is if all this was for nothing. Six small altars have been set in my private garden for the lambs and will be tended daily. Asking for forgiveness and that their spirits can slip through and reach the places they were meant to go and not be sidetracked into some limbo of punishment none of them may not have deserved.

It was odd I suddenly felt moved to do this on a day of no significance, but the others felt it too. As if time was running out and if something was to be done– now was the time.

It played out to perfection, as if we had unseen help. No errors in words or missteps. The blade hit true and our lamb suffered not needlessly as we howled like the dammed – employing the dark wonder to aid us in this time of peril. We could only imagine what was happening elsewhere and had no clue what path would be chosen in the process. Would wisdom of foolishness decide our future was not a chance we could abide by. We chose wisdom, and acted in the only way to help it win.

When it was finished, we went insane. The entire affair leaving us all exhausted and depleted. Once the major rush had had its way with us all, we managed to clean and cover our tracks. No trace of what had happened remains and we flowed like ghosts to our own spaces. If there had been any witnesses, it would be on the news by now, so in that alone we was blessed.

I am laying in one of my ‘blind’ apartments now. Totally exhausted. Still wearing blood stained robes jotting this entry on a notepad to be placed in my journal proper later. On the table in the dim light I can see the blade I used. The light catching in the steel and crimson. Was this all for nothing or did it make a difference?

We must wait and see. Please, Mater Lacrimarum, let this work.
And forgive me if it does not.

Hail to the Goddess of the storm
Dancing on the abyss
In a blaze of light
A darkened star reborn
When the moon hangs in the sky
Sabbatical and fatter than the blood red sunset
Know the reason why
The heavens burned today

[Zodiac]

Volume 13, Page 172
10/17/2018 9:48 PM

(Dreamscape Log)

Once again I saw her. This will be the fifth time she has manifested in my dreams. Hence me putting this in the journal as well as my dream note book. What is catching my attention the most is how the conversations are evolving.

The dream began with a scene in what I had hoped my life would become one day. I was old. So damn old. I could barely keep my eyes open most of the time and required help in such things as standing, walking. One of my grandchildren had roused me from my dozing.

It was time.

He helped me up and walked me outside where the coven stood waiting and guided me to my seat. Like my own grandmother, I was the spiritual leader of this tribe. There was no conflicts between myself and the temporal head of the tribe. We worked well together.

Three couples stood waiting with bundles in their arms. I smiled, toothless, and bid them to approach me while the circle closed behind them. I never did get a real voice, but my hand gestures developed to the point all knew what I was ‘saying’. I looked down at the infant and smiled as my finger traced a blessing upon the babe’s brow– welcoming them as one of our tribe and recognized as part of this family. The scene repeated with the second baby and then I saw my great grand daughter approach with her husband. I looked down at the face of my first great great grandchild and had to keep my tears at bay. As I blessed him, a voice shattered the scene around me.

“Is this really what you wanted to become?”

I looked up as the illusion of old age faded from me and saw her standing there.

“I have warned you to stay out of my dreams, demon.” I ‘spoke’. It was funny. When I was in the dreamscape like this, I had an actual voice like everyone else does. Sometimes when I wake I forget and try to talk, but I am digressing here.

“You cannot get rid of yourself,” she replied. The face, the hair, the eyes, the body– we were twins, however I stood there dressed in my normal attire while this other me looked like something from a fetish magazine. Weapons hung from her hips and her body language spoke of a person bred for battle and violence. “You could get rid of me, but you are too chicken to do it.”

“If keeping you a prisoner within me helps keep the world sane, I endure it gladly.”

“But why? You torment me far more than I torment you.”

“How? I do not engage or challenge you. I simply leave you alone.”

“That is the point. I am nothing to you, but I could be so much more if you’d let me out.” She screamed. “We can both have what we want, but you won’t do it!”

She was speaking of the, supposed, ‘Cure’. I had begun to make contact with those who had it, but they have vanished in recent times. Also, from what I had managed to part together, there was a side effect of the process. Destroying the vampire in ones self created another entity in the process. All the worse parts suddenly unleashed and out of control.

“Why cast good money before fools and cheats when their wears fail to match their promises?” A statement of truth I have wrapped my sanity around as of late. There is no ‘fixing’ our kind. No way to erase the negative from ourselves and go back to how it was before. My doppelganger screamed and lashed out at me. I stood there calmly. Her attacks could not harm me anymore than mine could her. It was easier just to let her wear herself out.

“I am what you were meant to be!” the other insisted. “Why aren’t you?”

“Because I am still myself. At least most of me is.” Who could ever claim they were totally still their selves after such a change? From the first time one of us consumed blood to survive, we were changed.

“For now” she smirked.

“What do you mean– for now?”

My doppelganger laughed at me. “The so called ‘all seeing eyes’ are missing hints big enough for a fadebeast to hide behind. Oh, it will happen, princess, and when it does you won’t know what hit you or why you even hesitated.”

“Riddles aren’t you strong suit,” I replied.

“Oh, no riddles. What are you so fond of saying? Oh yes. Truth. The truth will set me free.”

Suddenly, she was right up in my face. Smiling.

“I am going to enjoy being you without ‘you’ around to screw it all up.”

(Dreamscape Log ends)

[Zodiac]

When the magick ends…


*Drip*

Mentally a part of her mind gritted her teeth while the rest of her continued to read. Following the curves and twists of the ritual took focus. This was no vampire thing, but something from an earlier time. A discovery in one of her ‘box lot’ purchases. It took time to sort those things out and sometimes it was worthless (She probably had enough copies of the so-called Necronomicon in paperback form such purchases to insulate a house) but every so often a gem could be found.

*Drip*

This was no penned in blood and bound in flesh tome like the movies told about. It was simply the notes of a witch now deceased. Her family apparently had no clue to its true value and had boxed it up with other items of her estate and fate had guided it into a set of hands that would appreciate and understand it all. Like most tomes (her own included) the mindset and musings of the author blended with the notes, so she could draw a mental summary of the one who originally penned this creation.

*Drip*

Her fangs emerged as she stood up. The book slipping from her lap and landing on the thick rug that warmed her feet. The girl glided down the hallway to the bathroom and floated in front of the sink.

*Drip*

She wanted to lash out. Smash the thing to bits for breaking her thoughts, but common sense prevailed. She knelt down and opened the door. Her hand finding the water valves and twisting them closed. She watched the faucet for a few seconds before hitting it with the side of her hand to encourage the last

*Drip*

To fall free.

She closed her eyes and listened to the world around her. The soft hum of the heating system blowing warm air into the rooms, an occasional hiss or pop from candles and incents burning, the soft breathing of sleeping cats, the noise of the building settling another micro millimeter against the foundations. Wood and timber adjusting while other wood crackled and burned in the fireplace. She nodded in satisfaction. So much better. The dripping was like chattering and she had her fill of chattering.

The ironic part of it all was, there was precious little chattering in her existence now.

Slowly she drifted back to her place by the fire, pausing to pick up her phone along the way. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she settled down into the fur draped chair and made herself comfortable. She opened the screen and typed.

Da Z: Whazzup?

Jenn: Everything is going great.

Da Z: Holiday stuff?

Jenn: He he he. We all sitting on ready. Close at 6 on Thursday and be ready for Friday morning. So, Thunderbirds are GO! And all that.

Da Z: anything requiring my specific attentions?

Jenn: Not really. The new apprentice is doing great.

Da Z: no readings?

Jenn: nothing scheduled till after the first.

Da Z: so nothing new

Jenn: Nope.

Da Z: okay then. Laters

The phone joined the tome on the floor as she snugged deeper into the furs. The entire convo with Jennifer would have been easier telepathically, but that would involve sound. AKA noise.

(tbc)

[Zodiac]

The hermitism she had wrapped herself in was not a quick decision or a spur of the moment impulse. It had stated long ago, and as time had moved on the thickness of it has grown in almost imperceptible layers. Like a slow building wall or armor being forged in layers, circumstances had allowed this to happen. It was not that the girl wished for this. It was a far cry from her normal outgoing nature. People in the past had found her downright annoying at times for her antics.

But she was a survivor of the world around her, and her Romany nature now mixed with unwanted vampirism was forging a solution within her. Perhaps this was a result of her transformation? One of the side effects?

At the times she chose to think about the matter, she would conclude it had begun at the very beginning of this nocturnal adventure, but seldom did she think that deeply anymore on the subject. What was the point? Nothing that truly mattered would change.

It began, she supposed, with Temperance.

It had been far too long since she had someone close to her who simply “got her”. She had never forseen the pair of them would grow so close, but it was like having a sister. One that actually didn’t get on your nerves. Along side of this were her first ‘childers’. Sable and Nevelle, plus others and people in general. A nucleus was forming and a feeling of belonging blossomed. She felt complete.

She was loved.

But then a curious thing began to happen.

For being immortal, none of them were acting that way. She knew that change was a constant in reality, but she was judging her current situations against her past. In the tribe, it was like being born into an extended family. All mothers were your mother, all children were your siblings and as you grew your roles within the family changed. Death was part of life to be sure, and there were times people left the tribe to strike out on their own. Most often it was a time of sadness, but it was celebrated and wishes of love and luck followed those who left, and in death it was a time of gathered mourning then celebration.

The difference between then and now was glaring. In the past– you knew these things were happening or going to happen. But now? One moment they are there. So close to your heart, the next they were gone without a trace. No word or clue letting you know change was coming. It was so rare something like that happened in her original life, but now it was almost a daily occurrence. Pieces of her heart being ripped away with no warning. Only Nev told her he was going to strike out on his own. It broke her heart, but at least she knew what was happening and the night she could no longer sense him as part of herself she cried.

She began to grow more cautious on who she let be close to her, but that did not help either. It was a paradox she wrote pages about in her private journals on the subject of the vampire. The living wished they had the gift of the immortal, but when they finally had it they would fall apart quickly. So many spirits and memories, now gone like a passing breeze. Some of those older Gothic novels began to make sense to her now. A solitary vampire brooding on their throne as the years continue to flow by.

Immortality did nothing to aid the mind, heart and spirit to accept the changes. Only the body was changed for the long haul. Strange how time stopped for the physical, but the mental and emotional was running at warp speed. Much too fast for a person who simply wanted calm in their life.

Eventually, it seemed like it was a parade of people she was moving past. Pausing long enough to decide if they were worth her tie, then vanishing.

Never to return.

(tbc)

[Zodiac]

So the pattern continued to grow, and with each new event she regressed a bit more. It had come to the point that when something did not happen, it was a major surprise. For someone who adopted the concept of hiding in plain sight when it came to her vampirism, she dwelled deeper in shadows now. There were exceptions. Those who came to seek her out for clues to their lives and future still could find her sitting on a velvet throne in her purple parlor. A warming smile, a cup of tea and snacks, all with the large black cat seated in the girl’s lap as she unwrapped their past and present with help from the cards and tried to help aim them at the future.

Especially the living.

As she saw things, the living still had chances, options, and the elders among them were survivors. They had faced far more hell in the long run of their lives than most vampires ever would see. All sorts of people came to her parlor, especially those she called her ‘blue haired’ ladies. She always tried to treat them extra special. She never lied to them or told them things that did not present themselves in the cards. ‘A fortune teller tells you what you want to hear so you will spend more money, but a witch tells you the truth’ is how she had been taught and the elders appreciated her honesty.

Maybe it was a reflex on her part. Replacing her grandmother’s presence in life with others, and when the town became infested with zombies and other things and travel became too dangerous for them– she went to their homes to serve their needs. (Something she normally would only do on the rare occasion normally and for extra money). Such meetings helped both. She felt alive again inside as she brought a moment into their tiny lives. They did not notice (or perhaps they chose not to notice) the slight glow in her eyes, the hint of fangs, they way she seemed to float instead of walking. Their voices were not chatter to her ears, but a glimpse into the path denied to her when she was turned. And when one of them passed in the fullness of time, she mourned, but it was a more ‘natural’ (?) mourning. She went to their funerals hiding in broad daylight under a parasol and offered comfort to the survivors. Sometimes, she was the only one there.

For an avatar of death, she brought them life and in return they did the same for her.

The fact that they died did not bother her. The living were supposed to pass. Immortals were supposed to last several lifetimes minimum. Why did the living more along as normal while the ‘un-dead’ dropped like flies?

A smirk crossed her face. Un-dead. What were they? Vampires or a bottle of soda pop? 7 Up!

She missed 7 Up and a ton of other things the living took for granted and most vampires pretended they never existed

(to be concluded)

[Zodiac]

The clock in the hallway chimed softly 2 AM. Her inner clock served her well, but she had been unable to resist buying the Grandfather styled clock when she found it. It took even more money to find one versed in the art of clockworks to get it going again and to set the chimes how she wanted them. Just upon the hour. She did not need 15 minute reminders of time moving on without her.

Her laptop sat in her lap as if waiting for something else to do. She shut it, and sat it next to her chair. The phone as well. Nothing left to do but relax in front of the fireplace. All thoughts of work and business now satisfactory organized, planned for and set properly in place to be finished or started when the time was right.

The silent call of the darkness whispered to her thoughts as it always did. Part of the nature of what she was she supposed. ’Come play, children in the darkness that is yours.’ she imagined it said. Whatever ‘it’ actually was. No matter how long she endured, that call would haunt her. Come out and raise chaos and hell. Be damnation incarnate. The rules no longer apply to you. Rule the night and make the living hide.

Sometimes, even she had to give in. The urge became too strong. She tried to be selective when she let the urges take her. A brighter, more pure form of evil showing the living who felt they were evil what evil was actually about. She made no childers of her victims. Such activity had proven fruitless in the past. No matter how much she helped them, advise them, teach and love them the end result was the same. Nothing but fleeting memories and ashes to show they had ever been. It hurt what was left of her heart when this happened. In life she dreamed of having children to love and raise.

Was this an echo of how being alive would have turned out?

For as many choices that had appeared when she had been turned to the night, there were trade offs. It was inevitable in any transition involving a life, but by her math the cons were still outnumbering the pros in the deal. She was not what most would consider a whiner, but she raged inwardly at the situation.

But there was nothing to do about it. She had considered self destruction several times, but she could not. She had no fear of Christian hell being her fate. She knew her fate just by talking to others like her if she did that trick within the city limits. No, it would have to be elsewhere to avoid the Nexus, and even she had no clue what awaited those who ended up in that situation.

Worse than the Nexus? Hell itself?

Anything was possible.

Despite the time, the girl yawned softly. Despite the ‘sleep all day, party all night’ condition of herself she found sleep more desirable. Besides, there was nothing left to do and no one to talk to for the night. The girl pulled another fur up to cover her as she snuggled down into the pocket of warm she had made for herself. A pull of a lever brought her feet up and reclined the chair back into a more comfortable pose. The bed would probably be more comfortable, but that would leave the fire behind and the effort to make a new one. Normally she not afraid of work, but now it seemed an annoyance.

As she relaxed, a familiar friend silently padded their way into the room and leapt skillfully into the mystic’s lap. A hand escaped from under the furs to pet the cat lovingly. Perhaps the one thing in her life that had never disappointed her. If only she too could be blessed (?) as the girl was.

” The magick has ended,” she whispered to the cat’s mind. 8 years it had taken for the awe of a dark wonderland to wear off and fade. Only leaving a sense of ‘More of the same-forever’ in it’s place. The cat looked up. Almost as if it understood her words, but all it saw was its person slipping into slumber.

In a few moments, the cat joined her.

(FIN)

[Zodiac]

Volume 14, Page 105
6/13/2019 3:29 PM


(Dreamscape Log)


It was dark, and growing darker.

Her eyes pierced the gloom easy enough but the view was less than exciting. Rocks, plants and fish.

Fish?

They swam in the air around her gracefully. Some darting closer as if curious about her, only to follow the others in a blink. She wanted to laugh, but a sense of dismissal and annoyance swept through her suddenly. In the distance to her left in the gloom, the outline of a ship sat. She wanted to get closer and explore, but her gaze turned forward and kept moving.

‘Moving’ did not quite describe her forward motion. Every step felt like gravity was fighting her efforts. It was more of a slow plodding motion ever forward. She realized she was descending slowly, as if walking down the side of a gradual mountain. Every few yards the air/water around her growing a bit darker. Determination forced her legs to keep moving despite the burden upon them.

Suddenly, her senses told her she was not alone. Her head turned as she pinpointed the source and began to thrash her arms about as if signaling to whatever else was in the dark with her. Talons, far longer and more vicious than anything she had before erupted from her hands as she waited.

Shark! It sensed the movements and was approaching what it perceived as injured prey. It was a small one (by shark standards. 5-7 feet long) but the sight of it was unnerving. She felt her jaws opening wide as her fangs emerged. When the beast was within reach, she lashed out and impaled it on her claws. Fangs bitting deep till the familiar (yet not) feeling of blood filling her mouth hit. She pulled deeply several times before the shark managed to shake itself free of her grasp and vanish into the surrounding gloom. A mixed feeling of disappointment and satisfaction filled her. She was still hungry, but felt renewed.

Again, the slow, lumbering descent continued. How deep was she now? She could feel the pressure building against her body slowly. Normally she imagined this would be an issue, but her slow pace allowed her frame to adjust as she made progress. Where was she going?

After several minutes of lumbering, her senses kicked in again. Something else drawing close from the left. She turned and again did the helpless prey dance as she watched for signs of what was coming.

A jolt of abject awe and amazement rushed through her as it appeared. Her jaws dropped and eyes grew wide as a sound echoed in her ears as the massive mammal drew near. It was probably 8 to 12 yards to the left but still it dominated her view. She sensed a second voice within almost in a panic shouting “What is this? WHAT IS THIS?”

”A whale. Sperm Whale to be exact.” she answered back absently as the behemoth flowed by. It was making a deep dive to find food and was following along the same mountain she was working her way down. She rejoiced despite the fear she was feeling within. It was so real to her senses. Never had she had a dream as vivid as this and never had she expected to see a sight such as this. It had to be a dream!

But….

A snap of its tail send a shock wave against her. Almost making her loose her balance. Sand and small rocks impacted her as the whale continued its dive. She was an ant in comparison and she doubted it even realized she was there. In a few moments the water calmed down and the sand began to settle back to the bottom as the darkness ahead swallowed the beast.

“A whale?” the inner voice she heard before spoke again. A sudden rush of cold filled her spirit as she heard it. “Yes, now I see.”

Now she felt as if she was looking at herself. Eyes were looking into hers. Looking into her thoughts. Looking through her entire being. She began to panic.

“Thank you for this, my child.” The voice spoke louder as the eyes drew closer.

She screamed as she fell out of her bed onto the floor. She took a moment to assure herself where she was before jumping back into bed. She snapped the light on and grabbed her dream journal and began to write frantically in short hand while the memory lingered in her thoughts. It was already beginning to fade, but she caught the high points of it.

Once she had finished, she sat and considered the overall picture. It had to be a case of dream walking, but there was only one person she knew of who could had dreams like that. Zodiac focused and tried to follow the ‘line’ that had linked them together, but only got a vague sense of somewhere North of where she was. The impression faded quickly now that contact was broken.

‘So, Theodosia dreams, just like the rest of us,’ she concluded. The legend/rumor apparently was true. Tying rocks to her feet and literally walking from Europe to North America via the floor of the Atlantic Ocean. ”Too bad it wasn’t the Pacific. Maybe she would have passed through Cthulhu’s neighborhood.” she jested to try and calm down.

She patted her arms and checked her hands in reflex. It had been quite vivid, which made sense. The more honed the mind, the more intense a dream could be. It had been the girl’s experience that she more or less stumbled into others dreams. If there was a way to aim herself, she had not quite gotten it right in the past. Only with people she had a strong attachment to was she able to pull them into her own dreams. So she was random. Landing in random dreams and pulling others at random.

At least she hoped this was true. It was not impossible to think she could aim herself, but that would suggest Theodosia knew about her which should have been impossible.

”No, it was random.’ she told herself as she got up. She was still tired but sleep was not so appealing at the moment. Better to get things ready for the coming night first and then consider sleeping again. ”Totally random.”

She made gestures of protection and dismissing evil as she left the bedroom. She had seen a magnificent creature from a perspective she would never have managed in this life.

At least there was one good thing to come out of this.

usage of Theodosia was cleared with Azraeth. Nothing in this post challenges or changes established cannon or guides the char to future actions.

[Zodiac]

Volume 14, Page 217
11/1/2019 3:28 AM


”…When your grandmother and I came to America, it was with our older cousins. Our parents could not join us because they were the ‘guests’ of the Nazis in places like Auschwitz-Birkenau and Dachau. We never heard from them again…’

She had sat for hours studying the newest bit of legislation that had been belched out by the Canadian government. Saying it was dense was a bit of an understatement. A legal pad lay on the table covered in her handwriting as she went back and forth in an effort to find what it did, and did not say. What was not said was just as, if not more, important than the stated facts at times. She silently thanked Jennifer who had insisted she take a college night course with her that explored the subject of ‘critical thinking’. It had opened her eyes to many things that were hidden in everyday and fancy language.

Bill C-819 was quite full of double-speak and meanings that just hung with points that could be applied and interpreted in multiple ways buried under a ton of fancy talk and big words. Most of her notes concerned what such terms meant, and when she began to add things together, it painted a very bleak picture. Too many holes to be exploited and improvised upon as time went along. She was no expert on matters of legislation and the law. Far from it. A layman’s knowledge at best, but she was smart enough to research the parts she was clueless on.

The Distinction Between Living and Animated Persons Act. There was a time that could have read ‘between Whites and others’ or ‘Straights and Gays’ and other combinations in history. Time changes everything, but not nearly enough time had passed in the case of the night feeders.

Who was she kidding. Too many in this world was still in favor of such things, but who they actually were would surprise a lot of people (Living or otherwise)

The end result of all this talk basically had turned Harper Rock into something one would see in a World War 2 movie with Nazis occupying a ‘liberated’ country. Checkpoints everywhere, show your papers, being detained for reasons they did not feel they had to tell you about, accused of crimes they also did not have to inform you of, stripped of everything and then sent off, perhaps, to a charming place like the ones her great-grandparents had been escorted to.

Experimented upon, dissected, killed. In that order. It would be a cold day in the abyss before she’d allow anyone to put a locator chip into her flesh. She’d slice her hand off and grow a new one.

She lost her telepathic link with the bill on line. It was how she was studying it. She had wanted to download it to her phone to study at will, but she shied away from that idea. Could such a download from a government server be traced? She may have been suspected, but there was no hard evidence she was vampire. She had worked to hard for too long to allow that. But now?

The Romany girl leaned forward and began to weep. In the past she had cried out in warning that such things could happen, but -as usual – they laughed at and mocked her for such thinking. She had sighted her own heritage in the past and the history of her kind as an example, but apparently such things only applied to people like her. Well, the rest of them was in for a serious wake up call now.

She never wanted anyone to go through the horrors of such things. It didn’t happen over night. Just a series of bad decisions one right after the other, and when they came to light it was all ‘Let’s forget who started this and work to fix it’.

If vampires had any true super powers, it was the ability to fight taking the blame for their own actions.

And where was the (so-called) Administrator (may the powers continue to **** on his head) in all of this? Back in the safety of his hole while the rest of them were forced to deal with this new issue. She had tried to put a wrench into his plans, but with no help and everyone else screaming we need to trust the Admin and help him, she figured why bother? Let them have their way. Do what you feel was right. What she hadn’t counted on was the utter apathy that blossomed when they realized no one was working against their new savior.

She supposed someone would find a way to say this was somehow her fault. She didn’t fight hard enough to inspire others to keep fighting for the opposite cause? The notion was insane at best, but that was another specialty of her kind.

She wiped the blood smears from her eyes and looked at her notes again. There had been rumors as well as to how much worse this bill could be, but now that she had finally gotten a grasp of it she could see in the language of it how easily ‘worse’ could be plugged into it. Her inner suspicions already told her ‘worse’ was lined up and ready to go in a file somewhere in the government. The iron grip the Nazi’s had on the world began gently as well. Growing tighter each time the previous set of rules exhausted those who would comply willingly.

She pondered for a few moments before picking up her cell phone. She opened her messenger and typed in 3 words to her best friend and assistant manager of all her businesses– Jennifer.

Rome is falling.

She could imagine the look on her face right now. A few moments later a reply came, saying she would meet with her once her shift was done. Bring wine. Lots of wine. she replied.

It was going to be a long conversation.

(to be continued)