Free-write story 9/2010-11/2010

The rough dirt path ran through the dense and humid jungle. A man walked along the path, with seemingly little care for his surroundings. The voices of the jungle were intermittent, yet neither howl nor growl had any effect on this man. He simply walked.
October 25 at 9:43pm via Mobile Web · Unlike · Comment
You and Valerie Migit Dison like this.
Ed Dison The man wore a backpack, a sombrero, and some ragged clothing, all green, except for the hat. The hat was frayed and tattered, and smudged brown from what may be dirt or mud. His scalp was visible through the patches in his covering, and his straw colored hair poked through like small stalks of wheat.

He had the most peculiar grin on his face; one of a man who had just easily bounded a mountain, aware of his power, yet stunned by the ease all the same. He walked with a confident stride, along the path. This man never looked left nor right. The path would wind, the path would climb, stoop, and even jag at times, but his eyes never strayed.
October 25 at 11:25pm · Like
Ed Dison Whenever he needed water, he would take a canteen out of his pack, which never seemed to run out. Of course, he passed streams, and brooks, and creeks, but he had never broke stride, but it must be that he filled it up then.

Even for food, he would take down whatever lay in his path; whatever unfortunate creature that may be. Sometimes squirrels, sometimes an ape, it mattered not to him.

He would only rest from the hours of exactly midnight, to somewhere between four and six. He would rest, sitting with his legs crossed, with his pack behind for support, and with knife in-hand. It seemed that no creature wanted anything to do with this man. Or at least so long as I have watched him.
October 25 at 11:33pm · Like
Ed Dison Twenty days, he has been walking through my jungle. Today is the twenty-first.

The sun is exceptionally bright today, but the air isn't particularly thick. If one stayed in the shade, they would be quite cool indeed.

The year is two-thousand and one. I have dwelt in these parts for a quarter century, well, my whole life. Men and women have entered my jungle before, but usually for a purpose. To search, to forget, to search, to destroy. But this man I have watched is a rare exception. I can't tell why he is here. I've wanted to speak to him, but I fear him as much as I admire him.

He is an attractive male, standing about six-feet, with strong arms and legs. He's most certainly dangerous.

Research, I must do more research. Watch, observe, and wait for an opportunity.

The man is walking along, as he always has. I am traveling along the trees along the southern side of the path. I was always sure to wear camouflaged attire, so that even if he were to look in my direction, not that he ever looked anywhere but ahead, he couldn't readily see me. I would freeze my movement instantly, even so, so that I am no different than a preying mantis on a leaf.
October 26 at 3:04pm · Like
Ed Dison The edge of my jungle is only perhaps a mile more in the eastern direction. From now until then, I must confront him. I very much would like to. I wonder what will happen when he sees a young woman hop down into the path in front of him. Will he stop and talk to me? Will he ignore my presence? I could feel myself getting very excited at all the possibilities.

Today is the day. Tomorrow will be too late. I must now stage my approach. Up ahead is a river, and he will need to find a way to get across. It is much too deep to wade across, and the current is strong enough to uproot even the stoutest of men.

I know, I know how to get across. There's a felled tree upstream perhaps one-hundred yards from where he will meet the torrent mass of water.

After perhaps a half-hour of steady walk, he is at the river. I can see him contemplating possibilities; his hand working on his chin. I wonder what he is thinking.

Just then, he shot a glance in my exact direction. My heart beat out of its enclosure for a moment. He....he can't see me. I'm behind several trees, at least thirty feet vertical.

The man lifted his arm, and began to wave, shouting something as well. "Hey, you, what's the best way across?"

I can't move. If I move, he'll definitely see me, but he's already seen me hasn't he? I can't move even if I want to.

He's beginning to walk toward me. Fight or flight. I choose flight.

I will run back to my home. He will not be able to follow. But what if he doesn't follow? Will I never see him again?

Half-heartedly I decide I should face him. He is now not ten yards from me. He has that same goofy grin on his face. I don't know what to do.

"Hey, whoever you are, I need to get past this river. You seem to know this place, so what's the best way across?"

"Uh, how did you see me?"

A smile creeps onto his face, "You were hiding?"

"Yes! You're walking through MY jungle, I'll have you know."

"Then shall I be on my way as soon as possible?"

"Yes."

"Then wouldn't be so kind as to tell me the best way across the river?"

"Figure it out yourself."

"The current is much too strong. Do you think perhaps a tree might have fallen across a path somewhere along the river?"

"It's possible."

"North or south, dear?"

"Don't act so familiar. You are my enemy. You have invaded my jungle, after all."

"And so I have, north or south?"

"North. Now, leave." I am very irritated now. He was far too unconcerned with all of this. I may as well just be a stump post along the way that has the answer he needs. What a jerk.

"Won't you come with?" now with a mischievous grin.

"And leave my jungle, never," what nerve!

He's now walking softy toward me. His gray eyes calm and serene, his
shoulders slumped, and one arm outstretched, as if he's offering to take me into the clouds.

"Won't you reconsider?" again, with the grin.

"Never," I can't leave my home. He has no right to barge in here and upset my world. No right.

Only three feet away the man stands. What to do. What should I do?

Looking at the leaves circling around him, a few sticking into his well-worn hat. He starts laughing. A sort of laugh of someone who might have just though of some distant humorous memory that hadn't been thought of in years.

Springing forward, the man raised his arm and now I see nothing. I hear the birds, I smell the grass, now not even that. Nothing now, but dreams.
October 26 at 3:50pm · Like
Ed Dison There's a mist. It ebbs slowly. Like fluorescent light beyond eyelids. I hear voices.

"......she.....you've been too rough...."

".....she wasn't going.........."

"....your place. You presume too....."

What do they mean? Who are they? I feel aware, yet I only see blobs and blurs. I hear only snippets. It's always black. There's this feeling in me like the world doesn't exist anymore. I'm lost, confused; I need to find my way back.

I think I shall start going forward. Into the abyss, the beyond, the unknown. Can't help to stay still.

A cobble stone path is now in front of me. There are now buildings to my left and right. I can't look left or right, but I can clearly see them in my peripherals.

Despite having the appearance of being well-paved, the path is quite uneven and often enough I end up falling. And in a moment I am always on my feet again.

The path goes on forever. Maybe I should yell.

"Hey!"

"Where am I?"

"Answer me!"

"........waking? No, not for........" again with the voices.

"ARGH!!!!" I yelled in frustration.

I'm just lost, is all. I'll keep following this path. Yep, I'll find my way out.

I look up, to see a sun and moon intermingling, moving back and forth, circling at times, and even fusing. My eyes burn now. Can't stare too long.

The houses around me are now fields. Now they are not. I am falling.

Down. Down. How do I know it's down? This sickly feeling in my stomach says I am. Lurching and twisting, my intestines are in a flurry.

"......resting finally. Has she given....."

".....no.....think.....when.....later....."

It's just black. There's nothing here. I can't find my way out now.

".....she......"

"...."
October 27 at 8:36pm · Like
Ed Dison She finally woke, after twelve hours.

They were now in his underground bunker, about a mile east of the place where the man and woman met.

When she came to, instantly she jumped up and raved wildly around. The walls were stone, with small slitted windows near the top, just barely above-ground. The sun was shining dully through, though it was impossible to tell the time of day.

The man entered promptly, and began to try to calm her, "Do not be afraid, I mean you no further harm."

"Where are we, why have you brought me here?!" she yelled frantically, "what did you do to me?!"

"Answer me!"

"I rendered you unconscious back in the jungle, and carried you here to our home. I have done nothing else to you."

She had been lying on a hard bed-type-surface on the eastern wall of the small room. They were now quarreling in the middle.

She made a run for the door, which was not barred, locked, or even closed. It was a rather heavy looking door, but she would have to move past the man first.

He saw her eying the door and said "No, you mustn't leave yet. It's not safe for a girl your age to go out alone at this time a night."

"It's daytime."

"Oh, you're right. Well, you may leave then," He stepped aside.

Cautiously, she crept toward the door. Slipping quietly through it, she entered an enormous room. It must be a dozen times larger than the last room. A sea of people were wandering about.

Each of these people were dressed quite differently, and looked to be of many different eras even. Old, young, fat, skinny, and everything in between.

There seemed to be no visible door or exit of any kind from this room, however. She turned around, back toward the room she awoke to, and saw the man grinning.

"Who are all these people? Are they all prisoners? Am I the newest prisoner?"

"They are all free to go, should they want to. And, I should say, I am just as much a prisoner as you," Still with the grin.

"Then where is the exit?"

"Oh, I don't really know. It's definitely around here," he said with a coy aftertaste.

He then walked past her and into the sea of people. Talking to some, and then eventually blending in.

She stood back, away in a corner for quite some time. Until a man, of an elderly age, approached her.
October 28 at 1:12pm · Like
Ed Dison ‎"Hello, and welcome to The Sanctuary!"

Who is this old man? Why is he talking to me? Maybe he knows the way out!

"Don't be afraid. It will be over quite quick! You won't last the night." says the old man.

What does he mean? What happens at night in this 'Sanctuary'?

Now the old man is walking back to the crowd. I don't know what to make of this. The man from the jungle is now gone. The old man's distraction has caused me to lose sight of him. There are no exits, where could he have gone?

I'll just stay here, and watch the crowd, observe as I always do. I am afraid, not so much because of the old man's words, but because of the whole predicament. I am in some sort of strange bunker fortress with fifty-seven others. I had counted them in the hours previous.

The walls are not all too high, probably about twenty feet. The walls are a drab beige color, sort of like sand. But consistency of the walls is more of stone than sand. There is no give, but that is to be expected. The floors are covered by several rugs of all sorts. Many different colors, all gradients of blue, brown, green, gray. The only color that is missing is red, it seems.

The inhabitants, or I guess, the People, I will name them, seem to use these carpets to mark boundaries. Some of the People seem to use them as a status symbol. The older men tend to have more regal rugs, whereas the younger People have lighter, more weaker colors. Baby blue, turquoise, yellow, etc.

The youngest People are no more than twelve, and the oldest probably at least five-and-sixty. The weaker looking individuals tend to be either sitting right next to stronger ones, or shunned to the outlying areas, such as where I am. Though, I have to say, even the weakest of the lot seem quite capable. And conversely, the strong ones look incredibly fierce.

The Strong Ones, I shall name them. There are three notable Strong Ones. The first, being a tall man, probably near seven-feet, with rippling muscles, but most apparent are all of his scars. He is scarred from head-to-toe. What kinds of wars this man has experienced, I wonder.

The second is a devilish looking woman. Something of a witch, or a fiend. She seems to have some strange hold over many of the weaker, and even stronger men and women.

The last was the man from my jungle. Or at least before he disappeared. He had some sort of undying respect shown in the faces of those he spoke with. Not the respect out of fear of a leader, but more of the silent respect of a hero. This was the air I got from him in the jungle, which kept me so very interested in him. Courageous, bold, brave, and with undying resolve. Dangerous, he most definitely is.

And so, I suppose I shall have to wait until nightfall. Whatever may come, I cannot say, but I have a feeling it may bring some understanding to me of what this Sanctuary is.

The light from the impossibly small windows is beginning to wane. Only a matter of time.
October 28 at 1:46pm · Like
Ed Dison ‎29 July 2001

Last night was dreadful. It is morning now, and I shall now attempt to describe the events that have preceded.

When the last of the red orb upon the horizon had dipped below, it seemed as though a new red gleam had arrived. There was a red of mindless malice in the eyes of many of the People. This was no so with the Strong Ones. Their eyes were calm and sedate. There began a wild howling of many of the older and younger folk. They began to stamp their feet in unison and chant in some song I do not know. It sounded rather demonic.

Then it began. They all began to attack each other. I don't know that I was surprised, but I was not prepared. In the corner that I stayed, I hoped I may be forgotten by the masses.

But no, this was not to be. That older gentleman who had essentially warned me of the night, bounded toward me on all fours. His mouth was frothing and his eyes were a distinct red. His movements were awkward and terrifying. As he came near, I dealt him a swift kick to the neck and it sent him flying.

He rebounded and came at me with equally ferocity as before. I pulled out my dagger and readied my attack. When he was closer now, I noticed he had now longer fingernails, sort of like claws, one could say. He raised his arm to slash me across the neck, but I parried his blow with my knife. His other fist came crashing into my left kidney, though.

I was sent to the ground, and my vision darkened for a moment, but in a moment my consciousness was at its peak and I swept out the beast's legs. Yes, he was now no more than a beast. Even in all my wild confusion, I happened to get a glance of the rest that was happening in the Sanctuary.

Battles were taking place, and many were dead already. The floor was soaked in red. All I could see were glowing eyes and white teeth in the stark darkness that surrounded. Indistinct shadows fighting for an unknown cause. What is this madness that I am now a part of?

My foe was on his back, and I was dragging my dagger along its chest and reaching my hand in to claim its heart. It moaned and wailed and flailed indeed, but in moments it no longer drew breath.

I was in a different state of mind, I can say that much now, but was it just survival instinct?

I had leaped up onto the wall and I steading my legs against the corner walls, and began to watch.

The war, as it were, was coming to an end. Only perhaps five of the fifty-seven remained. The three Strong Ones and two others. One being myself, of course. I could not identify the last of the five, as he was blending into the shadows.

Hours passed and not a soul moved, nor were words exchanged. And with that, the sun rose.

I dropped from the wall, and eyed the remaining People.

I had taken this journal, or diary perhaps, from a man who was lost in my jungle. He had fallen asleep in an open area, so I rifled through his belongings, and this caught my eye. I've kept it every since, but until now, never written anything.

Oh, it seems the man from the jungle approaches.
November 3 at 1:32pm · Like
Ed Dison ‎"Hello, I feel as though I should introduce myself. My name is Robert. What is yours?" I am not sure as to what to do now.

"Celest. What is this place?"

"Truthfully, I did not expect you to last, and so that is why I did not introduce myself. You and one other have made the ascension into the ranks. He is, well, of a whole different class than yourself, though."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean it in that he felled twenty foes this last night; I trust you see the relation I am trying to make."

"TWENTY!?" Glancing over at the man, I see a sort of carnivorous appetite in his now-visible eyes. He is staring at me.

"Never mind him, though. You are to come with me today. We have much to do before this night. Come" He beckons me forth. I suppose I have no choice.
November 3 at 5:06pm · Like
Ed Dison Later. 29 July 2001

It is about nightfall now, but I feel I should write down what has happened since this morn.

When he told me to come with, I did not expect it to be so sudden. He and I went to up to the southernmost wall, and he told me to turn around, as he was to do some secret technique to open the walls.

I heard a loud grinding noise, and turned around to see a narrow hallway of similar stone stretching on in front of us. There were no outlets left or right, and the path was only perhaps a meter wide, and we had to crouch, he more than I, lest we should hit our heads.

This led to a quaint little room, with some clothing laid in the middle on a raised table. He told me I was to wear that. It was green gear in the fashion of his, and a straw hat, somewhat like his, but much more recent in its make.

I asked him where I might relieve myself, and he told me to wait until we were outside. If I were not a dweller of the jungle, I might have told him off right there. How discourteous. He doesn't seem to care.

After we were outside, and I had done away with my problem, I asked him if we were out to hunt or for what purpose. He replied, "We are here to hunt, in a way, and we may eat as well, my dear." I scolded him for his use of 'dear'.

We were out on a beach. I recognized the area as being not too far outside the perimeter of the home. This gave me a ray of hope, that I might eventually escape. He saw this look in my eye and said, "Oh, you can't escape now, you mustn't. We would be quite saddened by our loss!" How a madman can seem so sincere.

I asked again what was our purpose, and he waved his hand to hush me. After we left the beach, we came upon a grouping of humans who were vacationing. He walked up to them nonchalantly and apparently proposed to them something, and they came walking with us.

We did this several times, at several places, until we had a sort of cult following. Some were from a small town, some were from a tribe of people who dwell here.

He never would let me in on what he said to lure the people, but I assume it was probably greed that he used as his hook, and a promise of compensation as his bait. Each person that followed seemed to be nervous but determined to go wherever was needed.

I did not understand why, but now I can seem to.

Somewhere along the way, we all stopped and split up the provisions that the people all had brought with them. He explained in a sort of Communist way, promising that they were to be compensated twice what they had given up in the first place. Very clever.

About three hours before sundown, we all returned back at the base. He led them all down that same pathway, and into the main hall. The rugs were all on the floor again, and the blood was washed away. No trace of last nights events remain.

The people looked quite content with their position, and sat quietly, talking amongst themselves. I returned to my corner, and here I stay, writing this. Robert then has brought out refreshments for all of his 'guests' as he calls them, and has stayed true to his promise that those who offered their food earlier, were given a sizable amount in return.

I was not offered any food, and frankly, any food offered by he is not likely to be consumed by myself; for I distrust his unknown motives.

I sit, and I write this, and I ponder what it all could mean. Robert now wants to see me in that room where I had first came here yesterday. Perhaps I will get some answers yet.
November 3 at 5:29pm · Like
Ed Dison Into the room we go. He is sitting on the bed that I gained consciousness upon only a short while ago. He looks rather contemplative. Like he is wondering which words are best to say. His forehead is wrinkled in a funny sort of way; and his hand is under his chin.

He's looking up at me now.

"What did you need me for? Haven't I done my part today in whatever diabolical plan you have in store?"

"You have done well, that is true, but I would like to assist you now. Any three questions you would like to have answered, I will do my best to provide you the answer."

What should I ask? There are far too many questions I have, but I suppose these will do.

"Will there be another battle tonight? How can I earn my freedom? What is it that this Sanctuary requires me for?"

"There will be another 'battle' as you say, tonight. You can earn your freedom by serving His purposes without question and with the greatest aspiration. And, this Sanctuary requires you for all that you can do, and all that you will do for us in the future."

Vague, yet telling. And to this, he began "And so, we are done for now, and I feel I have answered to the best of my ability. For I do not know all the answers, and yet there are some answers He forbids me to tell, as well. Whatever conclusion as to which is more likely, is up to you." He walks out of the room.

I sit alone now. The darkness is coming.
November 3 at 6:16pm · Like
Ed Dison Just before sundown. 29 July 2001

I write this as perhaps maybe in the future it will help me.

There are again fifty-seven People. There are more middle-aged folks this time around, and no one under the age of 18 as far as I can tell. Sometimes looks are deceiving. Again, the Strong Ones have each recruited an army of their own.

Rarely, a certain man's eyes will wander over toward me, and become fixated on me for quite some time. This is the surviver from last night. We will call it, the First Night. This will be the Second Night. After the First Night, he was giving me strange wanting looks, and now he just has a look of curiosity. I don't like it at all.

I guess it is a mite bit egotistical of me to be writing this, assuming that I'll even be alive in the morning! But, I feel as though there is some sort of protective field around me. There is no one within five meters of myself. They don't look at me, except for him, of course.

Robert is nowhere to be seen, again. He wasn't here when I came out of the room where we talked, and hasn't returned. I wonder where he had gone last night, and is gone to now. I suppose that is one thing I shall want to ask him before long.

And now night is upon us; if there be a God, may he be watching over me.
November 3 at 6:24pm · Like
Ed Dison Shortly after sunrise. 30 July 2001

Another terrifying experience, but for different reasons. Yes, I had to slay a few of them, but I didn't mind. It felt good actually. But, there was a disturbing scene not all too long ago.

The survivor from the First Night had killed yet another twenty or so, yet he did not ally himself with any of the Strong Ones, and thus, they found him to be an enemy, and likewise. The Survivor attacked the fiendish woman, and an epic battle raged on.

She had no servants to guard her, but did she really need guarding? She was in many ways a seductress, but the Survivor was not enthralled by her. She was clearly angry about this, and promised him a slow and painful death. He came at her with sickle, and was prepared to take her head. The Scarred Man instead took the blow instead, sparing her life. The gash had entered his neck rather deeply, and he was not going to last long.

The Survivor smiled and retreated to a corner. The dawn came shortly thereafter, and now I sit in my corner, writing this. Oh, what have I gotten myself into. Now only three, no wait, four, but Robert is not here again. Where does he go?

Now, a few hours later, he returned, and always when I'm not paying attention.

He is walking up to me now.
November 4 at 12:43pm · Like
Ed Dison ‎"Ah, so you have survived yet again. I knew I chose correctly, and He knows too. Here, come."

We are going to the room again.

"You have been summoned by Him, and you do not have a choice in this matter. He never summons any of the Children, but He has, so you must come now to His chamber."

"Alright, I should like to meet this devil."

"You would do well not to disgrace yourself in his presence, for it is your life in his hands."

And so we walk now, through another secret wall, I suppose, but this time I am blindfolded.

After much walking and turning and walking, my blindfold is taken off.
November 4 at 12:47pm · Like
Ed Dison Morning. July 31.

Oh, how good it feels to be away from that place. I am free, yes, free! But I am not without enemies; those who would pursue me and take my life. But, I am still free!

While I sit and eat my recent kill, I shall begin to describe the recent events.

When he took me into that throne room, I could see a man, of ghastly appearance. He wore very regal clothing and was well up in the years. He motioned for me to come near, and I did. I suppose it was instinct, but I knelt before his throne.

He stood up from his stone chair of a King, and rested his hand upon my head.

He said, "Oh, how I have watched you and waited for you, my child. You will serve me, and do all that I ask of you, will you not?"

I looked left to Robert, as he was kneeling as well, and he motioned with a fierce look in his eyes to acquiesce. I did.

"Good, good. Then, I want you to take a door out, behind me, to the world beyond, and gather new recruits. This time, you will do the talking, and Robert will only serve as a momentary crutch. After today, you will not have him with you, and will need to use your own resources to bring more and more into my kingdom.

"Already! already we have two vibrant souls at my disposal. You, who are much more tame, and he, who is as wild as a tiger, and as wily indeed. He will be tame after time passes, though, I trust. So, go now, Robert and Celest, go and bring many more souls to me!"

It was obvious that he was a madman, and he has most likely brainwashed Robert, and the other few.

I stood, and walked cautiously toward the wall that He was pointing to, and Robert followed shortly behind.

It was only a fleeting thing that I saw. The devil of a man's eye left me for only but a second. He was in thought, and seemed to have something he wanted to say. This was my time.

I rushed as quick as my body would allow, with my dagger now visible, and I punctured its edge cleanly into the earlobe of the king. He did not have even time to wail, as the blade had hit his brain nearly instantly. He dropped to the ground, and I turned to face Robert.

He had the most stunned look on his face. As if I had slain a god, or something.

"Are not you free now? Are not WE free now?"

After a time, with much effort, he began "Yes...and no. It was foolish for you to think he was the only leader in this Sanctuary. He is but a pawn in the grand scheme, and we, we are mere ants under the pawns' feet. Do you not see what you have done? No, how cold you. You are the ant who has just felled a pawn, you are still in shock of your victory. Hurry, we must leave. "

"So, you do not wish to stay and clear your name in their favor?"

"I am but a mercenary, and I do whichever job pays the best. I am ready now, to leave this place, and seek out another, less restricting job, if I may."

And so we left, using the door behind the throne, and we have been running east ever since. He has tried to explain to me the gravity of my actions, but I still say it was the best thing I could have done. I'd rather die on the run, than in a cage.

We have set up camp in a cave upon a mountainside. It's too bad that I did not pay much attention to the geography of much of anything but my jungle. I would say that we should return there, but as it is is a finite place, it would end up as a burial ground for us eventually. No matter how well I know the place, we will undoubtedly be caught eventually, by forces I do not comprehend.

And so, we sit here, resting in sunrise, glad to have had no battle in the previous night hours. Who is to say what today will hold for us.
November 4 at 1:09pm · Like
Ed Dison Why am I helping him, and likewise? He was my enemy, he brought me into all of this. Though, I suppose I have gotten him into another mess, but he started it!

His plan is to outrun our pursuers, but I think we should fight. He maintains that I do not know what we are up against. Maybe he is right, but he could at least explain better!

"Robert, what was in that food that they gave the prisoners?"

"Well, it really isn't all too important WHAT it was, but you know what it DID, that's what's important. Whatever it was, it caused some sort of insanity where they only knew two instincts, kill, and protect. Kill the enemy, protect thy master.

"The masters knew better than to eat of the food, and also knew to recruit the fledglings as they came, so as to exploit the system. Though, there was no beating, only surviving. Some of the survivors would end their own lives because they knew there was no end to it."

Interesting. But irrelevant to me.

"And Celest, that is why I brought you there, I suppose. You were not formidable enough to try to overthrow the current survivors, nor weak enough to be killed off, but also intelligent enough to see that your only 'way out' was to bite the hand that fed. You could have gone about it better, but I applaud you all the same."

"So I was merely a tool in your scheme, and am I even now?"

"Yes and no. I wish for you to aid me yet, but I do not have any plan, as it were. So, I should hope you are not bent on leaving my side so soon!"

"I just might! I've had enough of your crazy theories and hellish sanctuaries for one lifetime. I saw enough insanity in my jungle, I could have easily lived quite happily without knowing of such evils as these!"

"Yes, but think, you have now the opportunity to fight against such evils. You and I will, in time, drive back the tide of this darkness."

"I fight them because we have no choice, not because I am intent on solving any worldly issue here," He's just some religious fanatic himself. I don't want to get wrapped up in his impossible view of justice.

"I can see, Celest, that we do not fully agree on this, but I will show you in time that this is your destiny. You and I, we, will defeat this thing. Don't attempt to escape your fate, it is foolish to do so!"

"A fate you bestowed upon me, yes? If this evil you speak of is so powerful, why are you not more afraid? You wish to run, yet you tell me that we should fight. You are just as delusional as they."

"Perhaps, but this is an ill-fated game of chess, my dear, we being a rook and a bishop, each with our own talents and weaknesses. And in this game, we are retreating currently. And to where, I cannot disclose to you yet, but it will be safety in the short-term. Please have some trust, and I know the gravity of what I ask, I really do, but I would not ask if I did not think it was the only option."

I guess I have no choice, I must follow him to whatever this place is, and perhaps then I can decide if I should abandon him and make my escape.

"So be it, let us go."
November 10 at 7:45pm · Like
Ed Dison Morning. August 1.

We have reached his "safe-shelter. I wouldn't say that it is very safe. It is his mercenary encampment up in the mountains east of where we escaped the facility. It is well-protected from outward attack, but I fear of some problem within.

Mercenaries are not going to protect us, I know that, but they may also attack us if the pay is right. All the enemy has to do right now is pay off our co-inhabitants with some coin, and we go from being in a safety net, to a trapping net.

But, Robert says it's safe, since he's well-known among his peers here, and they wouldn't dare mess with him. Oh, what has he gotten me into?

I want to know more of the evil that we face, but Robert -- despite being in their company for many months -- knows startlingly little. I should start searching elsewhere.

Had I more knowledge of electronics or phones, or any of that, I might find some knowledge there, but sadly I do not. Curse my crude-living. I did not ask for this lifestyle. I was born into it, and I came to love it, but there are times when it comes back to bite me. And so, I must just followed him blindly until our enemy shows itself and I can size it up properly.

What would my parents say of all of this, I wonder? Would they fear for my safety, would they try to hide me, to shelter me from the evil like they always did? What about Peter, my brother. Wherever he is, I wonder if he's alright. It has been fifteen years since my parents were killed by unknown assailants. My brother and I escaped, him being five years my elder, he took care of me, and provided me with the means for survival. But, it has been months since he has left for the civilized world. Too long. I wonder how he fares?

Robert calls, it is high morning, and I should probably see what he has in store for me.