The night is heavy. My lacerated knees scrapes against the concrete floor. I must not let them heal. My hands are locked as in a prayer and tears are streaming, streaming down my face. Fresh blood. Iron.
At first I could not hear his voice through the chaos. The spirit went mad. Their screams felt like knifes through my head.
Now I hear him too clearly. He speaks in a language I do not understand. Two wrinkles between his eyebrows.
It's a lecture and I know I must listen, that it is important, but I do not understand the words.
When did I get here? When will I be home? Sam, I love you. Sam, you are my everything. Sam, you are the world and lite and death and blood and the executioner and the Saviour.
The wounds on my back are fresh. I have been punished, but I do not know of my crime. Inshallah!
It scares me that I can no longer close my eyes, that I am not alone in my head, that the spirits are my world. It scares me that I do not know where I am going or where I will end up. Sam is everything. Sam is everything there is.
Suddenly I realize. Sam is saying farewell. This is our last dance of death and he shall never return.
When his heavy footsteps leaves the room I want to scream. My heart is bleeding, my voice is hoarse of sorrow when I reel off prayers, curses, I am begging, but he is gone. I haul my palms against the floor until they are leaving red marks. I am alone, alone, ALONE.
What does a human do without her saviour? What do you do when the lights has gone out and the world dwells in darkness? When the bridges has cracked and the lava wells out? What do I do without Sam?
The pain is so real, the first reality I've tasted in forever. I bite my arm and drink my own blood. I cannot stand the screams and mix my own with theirs. No one can hear me, no one can find me, no one can save me.
When Halloween got near she felt relieved. This was the one time at the year that she could show her true self to the world without getting any crap for it. She felt joy in putting on the cloak, the mask and the medallion, and she felt comfort in the fact that soon, very soon, the stars would be right.
(A little display of my Halloween outfit, complete with a cute paperback edition of the Nectronomicon!)
The drunk taken out from the back seat sleeps, snoring. His stench fills up the world when Katja takes him on her shoulder and carries him up the stairs to the apartment. She has to use up even more blood to manage and starts to feel a worry spreading through her body. It is as if everything has shifted a bit, like reality does not really have what it takes to visualise her world.
Tobbe walks in front of her. She can see that his shoulders are shaking as if he is crying, but she knows it is the cold. The longing for the kicks. The longing for yesterday. She wished he would go back, but he is very determined and she doesn't want to give order. No more orders. They were friends, right? She needs no slave or servant, just his friendship.
He unlocks the door. It is dark in the apartment and she drops the drunk at the couch. The single light in the ceiling is lit and its sudden light almost makes Katja flinch.
The voices have started again. They say a thousand things. Their voices chatter. The spirits are hungry. They demand blood. Blood that she must give them. They don't seem to understand what she intends to do, instead they talk about Tobbe.
"You must do it." they say. "You must give him to us. Give Tobbe to us. To us."
She shakes her head and walks over to her ghoul. He is standing with his face turned to the black painted windows, almost as if he could see something outside.
A hand on his shoulder, and by that light touch she can feel how tense he is and removes the hand again. Want to help. Can help. Determined she unroll the bandage around her wrist and uncover two deep, open wounds.
He doesn't hesitate for long, the calm that no chemical preparations may give him any more can be given temporarily from Katja's blood. Salvation. She cannot get the same thing back any more though. Their symbiosis is gone. Their common ground has moved. Without his drugs he is tense and she is completely exposed to the dark waters of insanity.
Memories starts to show before Katja's eyes. The memory of how much blood she has used and sacrificed the last couple of nights. The question about when she last ate and the answer that she could not remember.
When it is over the storm arrives. The red mist that sweeps away everything in its merciless flood.
Afterwards. Afterwards the walls are stained with blood. Tobbe lies unmoving in a corner of the room. The drunk is not asleep anymore. He begs silently with his bleeding lips. He has a hole where there should be flesh. What it is that made reality return to Katja she doesn't know, but she must act fast. The last of the drunks blood is consumed, gives her strength, and then she breaks the rules again. He gets his blood back mixed with hers. He changes, transformes, you already see the madness glowing in his eyes. Katja weeps when she snatches up the drumstick she pinched from Brujah last week. Breaks the tip. Makes sure that he who recently was just a drunk but now is her childe keeps still. His red-tainted eyes looks surprised and she almost laughs through the tears. It looks silly.
Her attention goes to Tobbe instead. She kneels besides him, tries to see what is wrong. The bad conscience stabs and stabs and the spirits continue to speak.
"Now is the time. Take him now. Give him to us. We need him. Now you have someone else. Give him to us!"
They have gotten it all wrong. She notices that he is breathing and gives him more life. He heals quickly. The world has a new interesting blurr due to the alcohol from the new family member.
“Sorry.” Katja says.
It is just an empty word. Nothing that can erase the regret she feels. On purpose she gives Tobbe too much, lets him be swept away by the intoxication and pain from the healing.
Now is the time. That is something the voices got right. Now is the time. She makes the preparations almost mechanical. The newspaper clips is ripped down from the wall. Symbols are drawn with a thick, black marker. A pentagram on the floor. The newly born malkavian in the middle of it.
Katja sits down by his side. She knows that he knows, that he is awake. That he wonders and thinks and feels, but cannot move. What she is about to do fills her with illness and despise for herself, but she must do it. The spirits will do something awful if she doesn't give them of her blood, and he is her blood now. His whole life ripped apart in a few hours, stolen by her. She is a life-stealer. She doesn't deserve to please the spirits.
Tears are still falling when she raises the knife. It is no sacrificial dagger, just an ordinary bread knife with occult symbols carved into the wooden handle. Slowly she begins to chant in a language she herself almost don't understand. The blade penetrates his jugular. More blood. Always blood. Blood everywhere. In desperation she continues to stab. She stabs and stabs and can feel how her childes' mind is poking her own, wondering, screaming in panic, not understanding. Go! He must be gone! She starts to sever the head from the neck with her pathetic knife. How long it takes and if it succeeds mostly because of her again strengthened powers is impossible to know. Somewhere in the room she can hear sobbing and echoes of sobbing. She knows that she herself is crying, but assume that Tobbe also is doing it. That he knows what is happening. That he knows how she is falling, feeling her darkness embrace everything.
It is over now. Katja has broken the rules again. Her heart is beating like crazy. The spirits is quiet. Only the sticky warmth on her hands and legs remain.
Edited and corrected by Max. Many thanks!
Well, for everyone that's been following me over at Facebook it's old news, but anyhow, here goes: I really, really love the show Supernatural. It is the X-files of the 2000. It has absolutely everything; ghosts, cryptids, demons, good acting, interesting characters, enchanting plots, a sense of humour and nice quality in filming aswell as the special effects. Another nice thing about it is all the references to horror movies, popular culture and music.
Oh, about the music. A real treat is that they've made this super modern show, with modern plots and thinking and then almost exclusivly plays rock classics as music. Isn't that just great?
And I would really like to live in Sam and Dean's world. I would like to know what goes bump in the night and how to fight it, that it can be fought. I am so sick and tired of being scared all the time.
I love pumpkins. I love everything about them. I love roasted pumpkin seeds, and pumpkin soup and pumpkin pie. I love raw pumpkin and pumpkin lanterns and the colors and shapes and names. I love the smooth surface and the weight and pumpkin patches. I just totally and completely love pumpkins.
Last night me and a friend was at Ölands art night and harvest feast. There were a lot of pumpkins everywhere and I almost thought I would explode in little pieces of happiness.
More pumpkins to the people!
Ah, what the hell. I'll write anyway. Better here than writing at my book at the moment. I cannot think. My hair is black again and I feel like myself again. I like my life right now... and I like rum. A lot.
Tonight I made 48 cinnamon buns. Now I am just sitting here, staring. I miss something, but I am not sure of what. I think I miss me. Hopefully I will find me now when autumn arrives. I usually do.
I don't know what's wrong. This is not me. I am not this blob sitting in front of the computer day in and day out, too scared to actually have a social life. When people come to visit I say hello and then run and go hide. Smoke too many cigarettes. Eat too little. Me? Eat too little? What is happening?
I cannot even force myself to go to the place that's always been my safe haven in every town or city - the library. It feels like my inside has turned to coal.
Everything seems to be ignored by me right now. I cannot agree with anyone, not even the love of my life.
I just want to go for a cup of coffee, but I never have the money and seldom the company.
I should fix the bike and go down town every day. I should find a way out of this strange place, but I cannot see the way clearly.
Something must happen. I must make a change. I just don't know how to start.
By all Gods, I miss me so much.
"Sometimes I lie awake at night in my bed and I watch the Stars, and I wonder, where the fuck is my ceiling?"
Things are becoming stranger and stranger, or at least it feels like it. I feel totally lost in my social life, lost at school, lost outside my door and lost in my own livingroom.
I think I would need some grounding (can someone sell me Boots of Grounding, def. +2, please?). I need some directions, a steady rock where I can stand.
I am Jack's slipping mind.
I probably should try to sleep more, and dream less. Not the other way around which is the case theese days.
You know what? First Class. Distance tutoring. It all feels surreal. Is this really studying? What the hell am I doing?
Is that a door? Fine. I'll use it.... NO. Stop there. Stop trying to use doors. You cannot get out now. Put yourself together.
I woke up by the sound of heavy waterdrops on my window. A thunderstorm! A thunderrain! Just what I wanted!
I ran out into the rain, smiling like a maniac, jumping in puddles and dancing on soaked grass.
By all gods, how I've missed rain! I love it. I need it. Not another soul was outside and the whole great neighbourhood was entirely my own!
As far as I am concerned it could rain for a week, and I would just be insanely happy.
All heat and no cold makes Yvonne a dull girl. All heat and no cold makes Yvonne a dull girl. All heat and no... well, you get the routine.
I am also trying to learn the five poses of attacking people with a wand. That is about all exercise I can manage during this insanely hot weather.
Oh, and I got the answer from the University today. I am in! YAY me!
And by the way. I really hate living in the muggle world. I really cannot stand muggles.I hope the Dark Lord soon will rise again and finish them all... or if Cthulhu finally could wake up. Either way, I'm happy.
Back to complaining about heat.
All heat and no cold makes Yvonne a dull girl. All heat and no cold makes Yvonne a dull girl. All heat and no cold makes Yvonne a dull girl. All heat and no cold makes Yvonne COMPLETELY INSANE.
This is a portrait I made of my father 14 years ago. I did not know then that four years later he would be dead. One day he was alive and himself and the next he had a stroke and never woke up again. It was july 8th 2000 when I lost him. Ten years ago. Ten long years. A third of my life, and it still tears me up inside. I guess that's one thing that's never gonna change. Rest in peace, dad. I really miss you.
Just a year ago I could look at my photos and think "I look great!", but it doesn't seem possible anymore. I love my new hairdo. I love my style. I think I look like I want to when I see myself in the mirror, but somewhere along the road I seem to have lost my ability to look good in pictures.
It shouldn't bother me this much, but it really do. Most of you know I used to work as a porn model (erotic model, if you want to call it something more fancy), and I've always managed to get good photos of myself. But that was then and this is now. I guess I am getting old or something. Honestly, do I look my age theese days? Do I look like a chubby almost-30?
This weekend has been good to me. Even the lack of money couldn't put me down completely and I got saved with a little money a close friend sent my way.
I've also finished my first shipment of jewellery abroad. I just hope it will reach her, and that she will like it.
Yesterday I logged in at the university class (it's all on the net) and started on my first assignment. I am very pleased with the fact that the class seems much more interesting now than it did before. It's called "Information Technology and Ethics". Mostly it is a kind of reflection and discussion about how IT affects the society in an ethical way. I thought it would be like social studies, but it's more like philosophy. Right up my alley!
Next month my first freelance article will be published in Swedens largest magazine about RPG's and July 31 I am getting married.
Still it feels a bit like I am waiting for something else to happen. Like this isn't my life, but just the way that leads to my life in the end. Strange, though, 'cause I cannot think of anything I really don't like in my life right now. Sure, more money would be great, and I miss my friends and family when living here, but other than that it's all good.
I hope the feeling will go away in due time.
I did it! I got in at a summer class at the university! Oh my godness, I am a university student. I never thought this day would come. Sure, it was the class I least wanted to attend, but anyhow.
And how come I am so happy? Well, I should have been at this point in my life ten years ago, but ten years ago I was a real fuck up. My mind was broken and i spelled "sane" with a "in" in front of it.
When I met August I finally got the strength to put myself together and go on with my life. Accept that this world never will make sense to me, and that it doesn't has to.
One of theese days the invitations to the wedding will be sent. I feel strange about that. Happy, but somewhat not attending. Not really there. It all has that fog you see at the corners of the TV screen when it's just a dream. I guess I will understand that this is real sooner or later.
Oh how I miss sitting for hours and hours, drinking coffee and talk about the very many rules and aspects of Old World of Darkness. Why is Rasputin both mage and malkavian? What clan did Vlad Tepes belong to (several of them take credit for him)? Is it true that there is three ways of getting rid of a blood bound?
I loved it all.
But most roleplayers theese days play New WoD. And most old roleplayers have grown up and rather discuss insuranse policy and redecoration of their kitchens than the feeling of being a ghoul or how insane a malkavian really could get without getting locked up. Am I that old?
When did baby photos get mor interesting than the covers of clanbooks?
When did reality finally win them over?
Damned be that reality! It sneaks into our souls.
There is nothing more meaningless than the last week of school. I have done all tasks. They are putting my grades together on a paper and I will get them the day after tomorrow. I haven't went to school all week and I am not going today either. Why should I? It is just embarrassing when they try to keep us busy with things we do not need to do.
Instead I am working on a module to the RPG Action! and just hanging around. Trying to write some stuff, trying to get a job that doesn't make me want to kill everything and blow up the world.
I actually feel pretty good.
The apartement looks like crap though. Both me and August has been working on so many projects that there just hasn't been any time left for cleaning, washing and doing dishes. We just sit in our little worlds and... well. Do nothing.
My birthday came and went. We finished it off with watching Drag me to Hell. Goddamn what an awful movie that was. I could never figure out if they tried to do serious horror or comedious splatter. It just kept changing between the two genres all the time. I like movies that make you think, but this one just made me confused and left a bad taste in my mouth. Not like Bad Taste where you know what you get. Not like a real horror movie which actually always has some style to it. Just classical horror elements matched with tasteless and really silly scenes. They should have named it "Confusing as Hell" instead.
Yesterday I watched The Princess and the Frog. It's been a while since last time I saw a Disney movie. I think they lost my interest with Pocahontas and all the computer animations, and after that I've just watched their works now and then when they've gotten in my way.
This one I wanted to see because Nostalgia Critic brings it up in one of his lists, and it seemd to be very cool. And actually - it was! It was the best Disney movie I have ever seen. It is beautifully made, the characters are great, the music is cozy and the evil dude is one really evil dude. It didn't hurt that it was set in New Orleans, and for the moment I have a little crush on everything about New Orleans, Voodoo, swamps and such.
Ah... time to go look up some recipe for gumbo. I always did wanted to make gumbo.
Just a short notice to give a little life to my new blog in English.
I am back from almost five days of LARPing in the woods. Last night I only slept for about two hours. Then I went to school, and then it was my first day at work.
Now I've had way to much coffee and diet coke and I feel like I'm going to go to pieces. But here you go, all my three readers. A blog. And there was much rejoycing. Weeee....!