Six

I’ve been alone for so long that I forgot what it was like to miss someone. It’s been at least seven years since I stopped having friends and about four that I quit all human contact altogether. I don’t know why I haven’t gone Numb, by now, and part of me is wondering if it was because this is still in me. The ability to care.

And the ability to sound like an angsty teenage girl. I’m making myself sick, but the idea that Blair might be dead or worse just won’t leave me alone. When we finally admitted to ourselves that searching was no good if we were exhausted, and tried to sleep – it was there. Woke up, and it was there. All day, it was THERE. Blair’s horse is anxious and neither of us know how to really take care of a regular horse, much less one from a different time.

Curtis is observant, at least, he’s giving it a shot right now. Trying to feed Windmill despite the fact that the horse seems to hate both of us. At least, he isn’t fond of us.

The only clue we’ve got to go on was a bit of rope, left behind. Other than that…who knows.

We’ve decided the best course of action is to look into any and all Fear activity in the area. See if any of it is linked to Blair, the Vision, or this Willing Doll. If need be, we can get help – I’ve tortured proxies for more than just information, before, and they can be freaking sure I’ll do it again. Even if Blair was killed, it’s better to know about it.

Blair had better not have been killed. But, it’s selfish for me to think that. Death can be better than…some things.

Dispute Against Madness