Post by Andre D'dary on Jan 31, 2007 5:41:52 GMT -5
Andre awoke suddenly. Instead of the fuggy muddle that his head usually was upon awakening, he was oddly...vivacious. Thoughts buzzed their way through his bemused motor-neurons, finding themselves a home and an outlet. How could this be? He had slept for a day as per usual, and yet he felt as though he had been awake all of that time...bizarre to say the least.
Swinging his lithe form to one side, he sat up on the edge of his bed. Checking out the window, he noticed that the moon was nearing it's zenith, half shrouded by ragged clouds. Odd. He usually awoke with the moon's rising. Curiouser and curiouser.
Kicking himself, he noticed for the first time that he was fully dressed. His boots lay in their usual place across from the door, but they were not in the pristine condition that he remembered leaving them in. Quite the opposite. The patent leather was encrusted with mud, grime and...something else. He moved closer, and took up a boot in his hands. He inspected the dirt on the toe-cap. Blood. The other substance was blood.
He cast the boot into a far corner, and sat back on his bed cradling his head in his hands. What was happening? He did the only thing he knew to do in a case like this. He called his blood-sister. Her telephone was engaged. Curses. It was time for Plan B.
Moving with preternatural grace, he crossed the floor separating himself from his closed journal, and took the seat by his desk. Opening his journal, he took up his pen and began to write.
“Journal of Andre D'dary, Tuesday the 29th of January MMVII
Tonight I had my first blackout. I awoke to find blood caked on my boots and not knowing where it came from. I remember cleaning them last night. I remember doing it. I know that I did it. The only explanation is that...something...happened while I was asleep. But what that is, I have no idea.
I sit here in my rooms mortally afraid. What if I killed a loved one? What if that is why my sister is not answering her phone? What did I do for those hours that I have lost...what is happening to me? I am beyond any fear I have ever faced before. I am losing my mind.
I am scared to go into the City tonight in case I find a mob at my door, or I find a corpse of a loved one swaying idly in the breeze. I am scared of my loss of memory. I need to know what I did...and yet I am terrified of finding out.
There is something happening in my head tonight. A war is being waged in my senses, and I am but an innocent caught in the cross-fire. I seem to have no say in my own thoughts. It is like there is a...presence reading this as I write it. I feel what I can only call a Shadow in my mind. I am terrified.
A terrible thought has just this minute struck home...what if I killed my wife? I could not live with myself if I had brought harm to her...I would rather endure the pain of Hell itself than see her harmed. I cannot bear to countenance pain to my wife. I must see if she is alright.”
With that, he threw down his pen and ran from the room leaving his journal open, the ink still drying on the page.
Swinging his lithe form to one side, he sat up on the edge of his bed. Checking out the window, he noticed that the moon was nearing it's zenith, half shrouded by ragged clouds. Odd. He usually awoke with the moon's rising. Curiouser and curiouser.
Kicking himself, he noticed for the first time that he was fully dressed. His boots lay in their usual place across from the door, but they were not in the pristine condition that he remembered leaving them in. Quite the opposite. The patent leather was encrusted with mud, grime and...something else. He moved closer, and took up a boot in his hands. He inspected the dirt on the toe-cap. Blood. The other substance was blood.
He cast the boot into a far corner, and sat back on his bed cradling his head in his hands. What was happening? He did the only thing he knew to do in a case like this. He called his blood-sister. Her telephone was engaged. Curses. It was time for Plan B.
Moving with preternatural grace, he crossed the floor separating himself from his closed journal, and took the seat by his desk. Opening his journal, he took up his pen and began to write.
“Journal of Andre D'dary, Tuesday the 29th of January MMVII
Tonight I had my first blackout. I awoke to find blood caked on my boots and not knowing where it came from. I remember cleaning them last night. I remember doing it. I know that I did it. The only explanation is that...something...happened while I was asleep. But what that is, I have no idea.
I sit here in my rooms mortally afraid. What if I killed a loved one? What if that is why my sister is not answering her phone? What did I do for those hours that I have lost...what is happening to me? I am beyond any fear I have ever faced before. I am losing my mind.
I am scared to go into the City tonight in case I find a mob at my door, or I find a corpse of a loved one swaying idly in the breeze. I am scared of my loss of memory. I need to know what I did...and yet I am terrified of finding out.
There is something happening in my head tonight. A war is being waged in my senses, and I am but an innocent caught in the cross-fire. I seem to have no say in my own thoughts. It is like there is a...presence reading this as I write it. I feel what I can only call a Shadow in my mind. I am terrified.
A terrible thought has just this minute struck home...what if I killed my wife? I could not live with myself if I had brought harm to her...I would rather endure the pain of Hell itself than see her harmed. I cannot bear to countenance pain to my wife. I must see if she is alright.”
With that, he threw down his pen and ran from the room leaving his journal open, the ink still drying on the page.
