So, it turns out
that just because we hadn’t seen a Martyr in a while, doesn’t mean they weren’t
still tracking us. We’ve just been ‘lucky’ in that pre-hostel, we were moving
around too much…and then once we were stuck in there, maybe they just didn’t
want to get caught up with all the rest of the Fear activity. Or maybe they
thought Daisy Chain would do their job for them. I don’t know, and it really
doesn’t matter.
Curtis has
trouble directing Windmill, now, but the horse is smart enough to know how to
evade an Archivist. There were three of them tailing us, and we only just
stopped running now. We’re hungry, exhausted, and hiding out – I’m not going to
describe where, I don’t even know who reads this anymore.
We were
discussing putting an end to this blogging business. It’s been stupid – we don’t
even know what’s compelled us to start writing about these things in the first
place. I know there’s a popular theory that the Rake is the one behind this
compulsion, and if that’s true that’s the LAST freaking thing we need.
So, we’re stuck
here, we’re starving, we have no way of keeping warm aside from huddling
together, and Windmill is restless. We could die.
Merry fucking
Christmas.
No comments:
Post a Comment