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Journal Entries
Journal entry 1: The journal has traces of blood with unhuman-like handprints across the cover; a few pages have been torn from the book.
I have taken this worn out notebook from a little blood bag who won't be missed. I might as well make use of this since she won't be able to. I'm always happy to spoil myself, you see. Considering the scarcity of late, we were fortunate to have another successful raid. However, we've been hearing whispers of a new faction in the area. We are already exhausting our food supply and it's bad enough we have werewolves to deal with, we don't need more problems. Luckily, we have found other means to feed. If we move swiftly or in my case, peevishly through the various abandoned buildings and caves, we can head down south to our California stronghold. There, we can invocate assistance for our new found adversaries.
Journal entry 2: This message looks as if it were written frantically.
I shake under the once bloomed cherry tree. Half of my sect was wiped by something unholy or rather, the manifestation of hatred conveyed in one ghoul, though it looked alive anatomically it's eyes protruded mutiny under the onslaught we had bestowed. Even as I hide within the confines of shadows, I can't help but feel a distinct faint beating of a drum viciously invading any attempts of concentration. Even now, it slowly but surely gets louder as leaves beneath feet crumble under a relentless force that I; Godalk, fail to explain. I refuse to let this…thing inflict an incumbent fear, though I must retreat for now, for fortnights to come we will come back with a vengeance and that, I promise you wi—.
The report ends in a squibble, you can tell he hadn't finished writing.
Journal entry 3: A blood print is smeared across its cover.
I write this to warn anyone of my kind, for this abnormal monstrosity causes my heart to beat so vigorously, for which hasn't for a thousand years. I'm unsure what facilitated its construction or its origin, for what state of mind evil could ever hope to embody such a lifeless specter that holds us by our throats single handedly. I can distinctly hear, feel, and distinguish parts of my body I had forgotten oh-so long ago. Conniving impetuously in fear as a scepter impeded what little hope to hold me in place. As it steps with every ince, it never twitches, it never flinches, it never blinks, nor squints. Behind the blooded vail ferments prefaces of an event that will define the final chapter of my extensive life. I can feel it, it is upon us. For those who read this, heed my warning, stay away.
There were no more journal entries beyond this point.
© All Rights Reserved
I have taken this worn out notebook from a little blood bag who won't be missed. I might as well make use of this since she won't be able to. I'm always happy to spoil myself, you see. Considering the scarcity of late, we were fortunate to have another successful raid. However, we've been hearing whispers of a new faction in the area. We are already exhausting our food supply and it's bad enough we have werewolves to deal with, we don't need more problems. Luckily, we have found other means to feed. If we move swiftly or in my case, peevishly through the various abandoned buildings and caves, we can head down south to our California stronghold. There, we can invocate assistance for our new found adversaries.
Journal entry 2: This message looks as if it were written frantically.
I shake under the once bloomed cherry tree. Half of my sect was wiped by something unholy or rather, the manifestation of hatred conveyed in one ghoul, though it looked alive anatomically it's eyes protruded mutiny under the onslaught we had bestowed. Even as I hide within the confines of shadows, I can't help but feel a distinct faint beating of a drum viciously invading any attempts of concentration. Even now, it slowly but surely gets louder as leaves beneath feet crumble under a relentless force that I; Godalk, fail to explain. I refuse to let this…thing inflict an incumbent fear, though I must retreat for now, for fortnights to come we will come back with a vengeance and that, I promise you wi—.
The report ends in a squibble, you can tell he hadn't finished writing.
Journal entry 3: A blood print is smeared across its cover.
I write this to warn anyone of my kind, for this abnormal monstrosity causes my heart to beat so vigorously, for which hasn't for a thousand years. I'm unsure what facilitated its construction or its origin, for what state of mind evil could ever hope to embody such a lifeless specter that holds us by our throats single handedly. I can distinctly hear, feel, and distinguish parts of my body I had forgotten oh-so long ago. Conniving impetuously in fear as a scepter impeded what little hope to hold me in place. As it steps with every ince, it never twitches, it never flinches, it never blinks, nor squints. Behind the blooded vail ferments prefaces of an event that will define the final chapter of my extensive life. I can feel it, it is upon us. For those who read this, heed my warning, stay away.
There were no more journal entries beyond this point.
© All Rights Reserved
