There is another blank patch in my memory.
Unfortunately, this time there are no cryptic messages which
might shed any light on it, even if said light would likely be murky and dim. The entirety of the previous day is
simply gone from my mind, save for one image: Aqualung’s eyes, those
horrifically unnatural windows to nothingness, poised inches from my own.
It is getting rather more aggressive as of late. I think
that, before long, it will come to claim the rest of me. For now, though, it is
content with taking bits and pieces, leaving this old man to stew in the
knowledge of his own helplessness.
Half of the archives have vanished into nothingness. There
is nothing left where years of collected information once rested beyond
cabinets full of blank papers. At least three-quarters of all my work has been
destroyed. I think that I have managed to salvage the most valuable files, but
nothing is certain when Aqualung is around.
And, as if this were not enough, Thaddeus has found me. The
bastard is camping out in the main area of my house. For now, he has yet to
discover the door to my archives, hidden as it is, but it is only a matter of
time. It is likely not a matter of much
time, either. Thaddeus is a hunter, like his master, and soon he will find my
hiding place, and I shall become his next subject.
It has gotten so cold now that I can see my breath frosting
the air, and I have not stopped shivering for several hours despite the fact
that I am camped just next to my electric heater and bundled up in every
blanket which I brought in with me. I think that ice is beginning to form on
the floors; little sparkles of light, like fragments of diamond, are visible
throughout the archives.
I do not think that I will have time to translate any more
documents. If Aqualung does not take me, then I shall soon succumb to The Cold
Boy’s chill, or find myself with one of Thaddeus’ knives lodged between my
ribs. But I shall try nonetheless. It seems rather pointless now that I am
truly confronted with the end of my life, but I promised to try, and so I will.
He hears the silence
howling
Catches angels as they
fall
And the all-time
winner
Has got him by the
balls
Oh, he picks up Gideon’s
Bible
Open at page one
But God, he stole the
handle
And the train, it won’t
stop going
No way to slow down
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