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Talk [Dec. 20th, 2004|06:07 pm]
[Feeling anything at all? |Tortured]
[Sounds? |Talk...]

An evening talk between two old 'friends'...Collapse )

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(no subject) [Dec. 12th, 2004|09:53 am]
It's been three days. Three days, and still they are here.

I've tried sleeping, to no avail. I tried simply waiting. I even dared let the change go through, in hopes they would disappear when I came back. When I could find no other options, I asked him if he would remove them. He laughed uproariously then, and has been doing so intermittently since, at this torture.

One further penance, I suppose. I know what this means. As I lose myself the more to him, I can only wonder what will be the next to go, the next strand to be cut of that fragile thread that barely clings to my former humanity.

Odd to wonder...after going through such loss, then torture, then thirty years of sleep. Then to 'save the world'...merely to find myself at this worst of ends. Well, I cannot say I didn't expect it. Every power comes with it's price. Though I was convinced I had paid mine, that seems false, now.

On a more practical note, the wings are unwieldy, but if necessary, I can fold them entirely behind my body, hiding them from view. Maybe, with my cloak, I could go back out into the world and try...

No. It is foolishness to even think of leaving now.

I will not leave here until I am no longer even a shred myself, I think.
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Whispers [Dec. 5th, 2004|06:04 pm]
[Feeling anything at all? |contemplative]
[Sounds? |Whispered laughter...]

I had forgotten, before I returned, how the wind whistles through the caverns. It gives and unnerving feeling that someone is whispering. In a house so full of ghosts, I'd be surprised if I didn't occaisonally hear whispering echoing off the walls.

I have been spending alot of time in the library, reading over the old books. I don't know what I hope I'll find. Hojo probably wouldn't keep a log on his illegal experiments-namely myself. But I suppose it is worth looking. You never know. I've read through close to half the library by now, I think.

I wouldn't be spending time reading if I could be sleeping, but even that peace is denied me. Twice now I've gone to sleep to wake up somewhere entirely different and aching. Even the coffin doesn't seem safe any longer. I'd rather not risk breaking it anyway. I'm not fond of it-on the contrary, I loathe it. It's a memory of that long dark time I spent with merely my nightmares, much like the one I am in now. But now, though I am so very awake, the nightmares still find me in the whispering through the house. In these books that litter the floor.

And of course...there is always the nightmare within me, who follows me everywhere.
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Perfect Silence [Dec. 3rd, 2004|11:09 pm]
[Feeling anything at all? |awake]
[Sounds? |Silence...]

Odd that I should find an empty book in a library so full of ones written through. Kept in reserve for a day when the others ran out perhaps. Left under the stained, written notebook, this one is fairly clean, saving a rose colored mark in the center of the page. I can't make out what it is. Blood perhaps? Would be appropriate. Blood stained every page of my life, why not a journal as well?

It's very quiet here. No noise filters down from the village above. Dead silence. I wonder if it is soundproofed. That would make sense. Wouldn't want the villagers to here the scream of science as it was furthered, now would they?

I'm left alone for now. I have that small peace. These days I have come to suspect the quiet. It's always an indicator that something is amiss. I know...oh god...I know...-

(The pen trails down the page from the last W, then stops abruptly)

It's much later. Earlier truly. Daylight has broken.

He's gotten so much better at this now that I've been left to myself. I have come to fear the perfect silence, for I know what it will bring.

No purpose left for me left now...and every day I lose myself the more. I have no doubt in my mind he'll soon have total control, no matter how I fight.

No matter how I fight that day, I know it fast approaches.
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