Monday, September 24, 2018

Gravemarker


You know, I admit. I have been back to the place where it all went down. Where I got the crap kicked out of me and fell off a building. Into a fire. But I never really... Lingered before now. Really let the sensation of deja vu sink in. I hate that fucking building. I don't know what I was thinking running to it, like I did. Probably figured I could lose her inside, and slip out when while she gets lost... If I was thinking at all.

Give myself some credit. For the state I was in, I did pretty goddamn good. I spent a long ass time eating nothing but raw meat, running around and sleeping outside... Didn't notice or care about any damage to my body... Everything was just fear, you know? That kind of mind-breaking terror Runners go through every moment they spend within HIS glorious presence. Only there wasn't a reprieve from it for me. It was like... Like he was with me the entire time. And pissed. That whole fucking... Chapter of my life is just a blur of vague feelings. Hungry. Scared. Angry. Terrified. Guilty. Horror. Despair. Pain... And then I came to my senses, strapped to a bed, being tended to by someone who must have spent every waking moment of a period of months thinking about my horrible death. Now THAT is comedy. Couldn't have been planned and executed more perfectly. HA.

So I wrote my last posts as a normal, living human being. I was elated to be back. Angry of fucking course that I had done something so MONUMENTALLY STUPID as defecting. Running away from my promises, my mission, everything I had sacrificed, worked for and built... She was persuasive. Easy to trust. That was a mistake. Holy SHIT that was a mistake. Those idiot couriers knew it was mistake, even while I was in denial of it... Heh. Sagey still practically calling for my head at the time, for what I had done to Kay... Oh but waking up in that bed, knowing I was part of the family again... It felt good. But it didn't feel... Right. There was something missing, and both she and I knew what it was... So I figured that might be it for me. So I wrote that last post... Idiot that I was. Still partially in denial about a lot of fucking things... And then I stood up. And holy SHIT did my lifestyle for the past while catch up to me in that moment. I guess I kinda knew, then and there, that I was done for. She was healthy, eager for blood and would have been dangerous even if I WAS at 100%. But I couldn't exactly show that, otherwise she might not have been cautious... So the chase was on.

Her post does a pretty adequate job at describing the whole shitty ordeal. I needed to lose her, because I did not have faith that I could outfight her. But He wouldn't let me lose her. And we ended up there. In that ruin of a factory. Couldn't get the damn door to shut in time, and it was ALL downhill after that. But it really did end perfectly. Kudos to Samael for that. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. All THE BITCH wanted was to kill me to death with her own two useless hands for murdering her stupid family. Instead, she watched me fall off a building to my death, laughing at the irony of it all, into an exploding oil truck. Denying her sweet revenge. What seemed, at the time, to be a freak accident. But I knew what had happened. I saw the driver get out, when I hit the ground. Did you know, when the heart stops and the body dies, the brain remains active for a little while? Even while I COOKED in that fire, I could see them standing there, Father and Samael, watching his little experiment enter a new phase. Designer Baby Proxies. Surprised they didn't try it sooner. Heheheh.

So Mitch was unable to get her vengeance, and I had paid the price for my stupidity. Win-Win for them.

Not great memories of that place. Can still see some of the scorch marks from the fire, it seems. Took a long, long, look at that whole area, and to be honest, I am not entirely sure which spot marks where I died.

You know, I didn't even get a burial for the burnt meat that remained, which I guess was handy for when they brought me back. I wonder... Where would they have put it, if she were to have made one. Elaine... Mitch herself wouldn't have made one, ever. I wouldn't have, in her place, of if our positions were switched. I would have just let her ROT...

October 6th. That will mark seven whole years since I died, burning and in agony. Pretty close to my birthday too, which I suppose is also appropriate huh?

Such strange feelings about it all. Don't know what to make of them... Oh Well. Suppose it is for the best to forget about it for now. Keeping busy helps, or so they tell me, and there is plenty of work left to be done... And I do enjoy my job.

10 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Convinced of WHAT? Fairly convinced that I don't miss being DEAD, or the act of dying. How about you?

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    2. Heh... Very well. Convinced that your mistake was just that too? Convinced that you feel good as well?

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    3. YEAH. That's why I called it a mistake. Man, being DEAD did not do wonders for you, like it did me. Having to relearn English words and their definitions. I bet Hart could help with that, he seems the type.

      Look, I'm not back there anymore. I'm back here. So I feel GREAT. I have a couple of Half-Mummies downstairs that are pretty rapidly reaching that stage where they just BEG and PLEAD and babble like idiots. And that shit is HILARIOUS. So I feel pretty damn good right now, and if I DIDN'T, I would just go down there and play "Guess which bone in your cellmate's ribcage I just broke." The prize for guessing correctly is being able to pick the next one.

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    4. Insult me again, little Star. Perhaps you will believe it this time.

      Heh... I understand

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    5. Insults? I don't insult, I just observe. In fact, I don't think ANYONE has ever accused me of being insulting. A murdering, cannibalistic, jackass, certainly. But NEVER insulting.

      I am OFFENDED, my good Doggo. OFFENDED I SAY.

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    6. Hehehe Alright, dear.

      Should we meet, will cook someone for you.

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    7. HA. How lovely. Apology ACCEPTED.

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  2. Strolling down memory lane huh Star?

    I am curious, with all of this re-counting of your past, visiting the places where you had died, why the sudden retrospective attitude? Like what made you start this memoir oriented blog all of a sudden?

    You never really struck me as the type to feel the necessity of posting about your feelings, or however else you might call it, what with your constant antagonizing of people who used to do it in the past.

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    Replies
    1. Well, I feel it is a nice, final, insult to those that did this before me, you know? We are the last people standing, as far as these blogs are concerned.

      No one really left to hear my feelings and thoughts. Well. Aside from you lot. And it still isn't necessary, but I thought I would give it a try, now that things have moved on, you know?

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