From the Journal of Dr. Eliot Sihn
October 30, 2000
An interesting day. Terwilliger showed up at the lab
with the odd news that I was expected to patrol the
city on "Devil's Night." Apparently, he thought I
might be able to provide some help by wandering the
blocks north of WSU, dispersing hoodlums. He also
figured it might be a good chance to meet some of the
local mutant underground. At any rate, it seemed like
a good excuse to spend some time with Aela.
It was fairly easy to convince her to come along. As we drove to our destination, she told me an interesting story about a derelict bringing her an very large egg of unknown origin. I had no idea that Belle Park was so overrun with indigents and mutants. I should have suggested that we could bring the egg to my lab; I suppose there's still time to do it.
After finding an apparently secure parking structure, we set out on patrol. I wonder if this is what it feels like to fly with Prof. X's team? We felt ill at ease and out of place, a fact that was immediately sensed by a rather large gang of street toughs. As they approached us, I was acutely aware of just how perfectly shielded we had been from this side of life; Aela and I had grown up practically as orphans, but the realities of street life were never part of our existence. The rude manner of the youths quickly drew Aela's anger, and she began to work one of her powers on him. When the others grew hostile, I picked up a sturdy looking lad and playfully tossed him at the others. This was enough for most of them. A few lingered. They drew weapons and started firing at me.
The idea that kids of this age, and of this level of immaturity should be armed was appalling. In any event, we sent them packing with no broken bones. They should consider themselves lucky.
About the time this fracas ended, we noticed a building down the street go up in flames. Aela scanned the building for signs of life, and found that the basement was packed with people. The flames seemed to be set by an arsonist with a strange sense of style; burning from the exterior of the building back towards the center. As we prepared to enter the building, "The Captain" a lesser known local crime fighter happened by. We asked him to join us as we cleared the building. Aela used her hydro-powers to clear our way in.
Shortly after entering the building, a flushed young man with a strangely scarred face appeared from a staircase that appeared to lead to the basement. He seemed agitated and unfocused, perhaps as the result of drug use. The Captain quickly leapt into action, taking this man out a window to safety. We could hear music coming from the basement. I had the distinct impression we'd be dealing with some sort of weirdness when we arrived at the bottom of the stairs.
Aela gave us some cover by calling forth a mist. When we stepped out at the bottom, we found a large party, full of red-skinned fire fetishists. I summoned a manager (who kept wanting to to call himself an "elder" of some sort of "family." I rolled my eyes.) In any event, it appeared that the fire was no accident, that it was part of their festivities, and that they had taken precautions not to endanger any other citizens. Any further action on my part seemed like it could be a violation of this group's civil liberties, so we withdrew to the outside.
There we found The Captain steadfastly attempting to quell the blaze. I had a few words with him, but he didn't seem to understand the gist of what I was getting at. He seemed to be a pleasant enough fellow, but he was either greatly distracted or not entirely interacting with his surroundings. A group of young, red-faced partygoers had begun to gather around him in a menacing way. I stepped in between, to try to work out a solution. I gave The Captain my phone, so he could call the police and his partner, and I spoke to the "elder" again. This time he told me they were a bunch of demons, and wondered whether The Captain would hold this against them. I decided that I would break Terwilliger's left arm next time I met him. This pretty clearly looked like a situation best handled by the police.
About this time, I noticed a passerby was leaning on his horn and gesturing in a drunken manner. Aela and I politely approached him to assure him that the police had been notified, and there was little more that could be done. He excitedly pointed down the street. We looked up and saw that another fire had sprung to life a block or so away. I began to have some real second thoughts about raising my kids in this city.
After a short jog, we arrived to see a large number of well dressed men, presumably mafia-types, had been brutally killed in the street. A few weird looking villainous types were skulking nearby. One was crouching over a body with a bloody knife in his hand, one appeared to be a flaming pumpkin (a relative of the Flaming Carrot, perhaps?), another was apparently a giant pterodactyl. There were a few others I couldn't see clearly at the beginning of the encounter.
The knife wielding villain didn't hesitate an instant before throwing a knife at The Captain (who had apparently tagged along. This proved to be most fortunate.) I dove at him; unfortunately, I was a bit clumsy in this, and he easily sidestepped me. The others fared no better against him. Before I could try again, a shot rang out from a nearby window, making a large splat as it struck Aela. If she hadn't been an elemental being of water, it could have easily killed her. I decided to teach this cowardly sniper a lesson, diving in through a window, and completely missing him. We fought for a while. Actually, he shot me repeatedly while I showed just how pathetic my hand-to-hand skills are. While this was going on, I noticed the pumpkin-headed villain appeared to be holding my mother hostage in order to compel me to surrender. I decided that even if it was my mother out there, she wouldn't be served to well by letting the sniper continue shooting me, so I moved out of sight and continued my fight with the sniper.
Eventually he decided that shooting me wasn't making him much headway, so he moved to some sort of poison gas. At the same time I noticed that the knife thrower was trying for Aela again. I leapt back out the window, finally managed to make contact and knocked the knife wielder into a nice long sleep. Taking stock, it appeared that Aela was lightly wounded, The Captain was unconscious, and the man who had notified us was still on the scene. My eye caught a statue standing in the street next to his car. I quickly put 3 and 3 together and realized that this was "Rodin," the statue maker, and that the girl (who I'd earlier assumed to be a bystander) was some level of villain. I was grateful for Rodin's assistance.
I next turned my attention to the pumpkin and another villain standing next to him. I jumped across the street, neatly missing him. Then his diminutive, foul-mouthed companion muttered some sort of unrepeatable filth about things he had no right to know about, which had the effect of greatly sapping my will power. I looked back and noticed that the pterodactyl was attempting to flee with one of the villains aboard. I jumped at her (Aela later assured my that the reptile was indeed female), managing to get a strong hold on her feet. I swung hard and slammed the abomination into the concrete. This spilled a bunch of electronics parts onto the street, and the pumpkin quickly started to gather them up. That had worked pretty well. So I slammed the monsterous bird-thing into the sniper, then into another villain who I hadn't noticed earlier, and then into the pumpkin. The foul mouthed villain (I suspect he is the one known as "the mocker") ran, and the pumpkin managed to dematerialize after receiving a mighty wallop. Rodin turned the unknown villain to stone. The Captain was again unconscious, though I didn't see what got him. (Later I learned that he had over-exerted himself - certainly a heroic enough way to end a fight.) I was completely spent, and had to take some time catching my breath before walking again.
We quickly moved to investigate the building. It was full of bodies, apparently victims of the knife wielding maniac (Slayer, I believe) we had subdued outside. We also found a small computer room; apparently the place the gang had seized the electronics gear from.
We returned to the street when the police arrived. Apparently the girl statue (I'm fairly sure this was "Bud Girl" Its is good to finally see these mutants in action.) had been put in the car trunk, from where she had escaped. The logic of these events eluded me. I overheard Rodin telling the police that he could only unfreeze the stoned villain in a lab. I had strong doubts about this, but quickly volunteered my lab so I could run some tests.
Before we left, a glistening speedo-clad man with a weird haircut appeared out of nowhere and made a clumsy pass at Aela. He appeared to be a mutant of great power, apparently with some grave psychological problems. Aela subtly withdrew into the sewer, and the man, dubbed "Speedo-man" left. He apparently had some delusion that she was a queen of some sort. In any event, Aela's incredible good looks often have this effect, and, sad to say, I am used to it.
We headed back to may lab. The Captain had thought ahead and provided us with several large rolls of duct tape to secure the man, in anticipation of his release from statue form. Apparently he had some sort of ability to become insubstantial, and my fellow crime-stoppers were under the impression that he might be able to control this through the manipulation of a pearl necklace he wore. (And a nice looking necklace it was, though not nearly as nice as the one I have on lay-away for Aela's Christmas present this year.) So, Rodin released the man from his power, which left him in the same state on unconsciousness he was in on the street. Rodin and The Captain quickly stripped him and wrapped him in tape. I suppose this measure was not entirely necessary, as we could just as easily have strapped him to my examining table, but the Captain is not easily argued with. The man identified himself as "Octal Fist." He said that the pearls were the source of his life, and without them he would die. My instruments seemed to confirm this. I called Prof Gere-Luce and asked him to take a look at the pearls. They seemed ordinary enough to him (except for their appeal to Aela. I do think I chose the right Christmas gift this year.) The professor substituted a different set of pearls for Octal Fist's pearls. OF could not tell the difference, and seemed happy enough with the placebos. Aela tried on the pearls, attempting in vain to desolidify.
We asked Octal Fist about the origin of his name. He replied with some mystic clap trap about no one ever being able to have 8 fingers. I demonstrated to him that even, I, Eliot Sihn can have eight fingers when I desire. After this, we hustled him off to the police. Gere-Luce and I volunteered to lend them assistance if they needed some way to secure the villains.
Rodin and The Captain appear to run a small detective agency out near old Tiger Stadium. The provided me with their cards should I need to get in touch with them at some later date.
November 6, 2000
Finally moved into the new building after an incredible amount of paperwork that resolved itself in a mysteriously efficient manner. There isn't much in my basement other than walls (very nice brick ones) and my basic equipment, but it has some possibilities.
My new upstairs neighbor is the Laughton Davis detective agency. They seem to be a resourceful enough duo. Laughton is a mutant with some odd powers allowing him to turn people to stone; he may also have other powers I haven't seen yet. Davis, aka "The Captain" is a more conventional superhuman type. Unfortunately, his mutation seems to have gone to his head - his mental capacity seems to be somewhat subpar. He does display an exceptional amount of mental resolve and good spirits however.
Aela dropped by to see the new place and brought along a nice office-warming gift: a possible mutant tissue sample gathered near the zoo. The results were most interesting. Apparently it originated with some sort of shape-changing mutant who has been terrorizing the zoo dumpsters. The sample indicates a probably shape-changer, with a number of interesting weaknesses, and a number of similarities with my own DNA.
November 7, 2000
During the final part of the move-in, I was called upstairs by one of the workmen. on my way, I happened to catch sight of someone standing in the Laughton Davis offices. Something didn't look quite right about him; I guess I've seen enough mutants so I can almost smell them. He had the look. He also appeared to be an Elvis impersonator.
On a whim, I approached him from behind and plucked out a few hairs. I then apologized as if it had been an accident and took the sample back to the lab for analysis. I can't say I was entirely surprised when I found it was a match with the sample Aela sent.
I headed back upstairs to see what his story was. And it was a doozy. He claimed that he was Elvis Presley, and that he'd heard some men plotting to kill Marty Davis. While he was elaborating on this fanciful story to a very attentive Marty Davis, I pulled Hamlet Laughton (what kind of parents name their child Hamlet?) aside and told him of my findings. He made a token attempt at rebuking me for assaulting one of his clients, but his heart wasn't in it. I decided to wait till "Elvis" was gone before telling Davis - I was afraid he might unwittingly let the cat out of the bag. But Elvis had no intentions of leaving; instead, he seemed unusually keen to lead us to the spot where he heard the men talking. He said it was in a wooded area near the zoo. This sounded like a trap to me, and Elvis seemed like just the type who might do it. I called Aela and asked her to meet us there.
The tension was tangible. Laughton, Davis, Aela and I kept a close watch on the shapeshifter, ready to spring into action as soon as he tried anything remotely suspicious. But nothing happened. Perhaps he was intimidated by our numbers (though he had no way of knowing just how powerful a foursome he was surrounded by). Perhaps he was telling the truth.
We returned to the car. Laughton said he had to speak to a friend of his along the way. The friend turned out to be a local mobster. Laughton said he gained some valuable information. I couldn't help wondering whether it concerned our case, or the 4th race at Muskegon.
Davis thought it would be a good idea to confront the man who ordered the hit, so we headed over to the man's house. Davis then managed to smooth talk Elvis into disguising himself as Davis and knocking on the door. Elvis thought he surprised us with his incredible facility with makeup, but we knew better. I do have to say that I was pretty impressed with Davis' ability to talk Elvis into such a dangerous ploy. On the other hand, Elvis could just be playing along with us, biding his time.
In any event, we set up in positions around the house, ready to enter at a moment's notice. The dogs got a piece of Laughton, the fence took a piece of Aela. I found a nice perch near a window to listen in.
The conversation between Elvis and Levi Goldman went a long way toward allaying my suspicions about Elvis. Elvis asked a number of odd questions, managing to greatly antagonize Goldman. A plant surely would have managed to make things go more smoothly.
November 12, 2000
I spent most of the next week wrapped up in my work, producing an experimental antidote for Bud Girl's pheremonal attack, and getting my equipment functioning properly in my new space. I rode along one day in during the midweek as Laughton, Davis, and Aela conducted some type of surveillance on a gas station. But my mind was on my work, and I never quite got the gist of what was going on.
Apparently, this investigation lead to two possible showdowns; one at a church, and one at the gas station. Aela volunteered to watch the gas station; her ability to quickly escape bad situations meant that she should be able to safely cover this angle. I have to admit that I worried about leaving her alone. I fear that I'm responsible for pulling her into this dangerous situation, and if anything should happen to her, I don't know what I would do.
But I decided that the church was the place where the most mayhem was likely to take place, so that's where I headed. It turns out that I was right, but not by a lot.
I carefully positioned myself near the back so I could watch people coming and going. Laughton disguised himself as a statue in the front of the church (the man certainly has nerve), Elvis disguised himself as Levi (one of the thugs), and Davis accompanied him to a pew near the front. I could see Elvis/Levi acting very animated a few times as he spoke to various people. I should have dropped my ear in his pocket; next time I won't be so forgetful.
While I was watching this a bit more closely than I should have, a man and three women walked into the church and announced that we would all participate in some sort of game. At the time, it seemed to be a capital suggestion. I'd always wondered how exactly it felt to be one of "The Gameshow Host's" puppets. Now I know.
He asked one of the mobsters to come play the game. Immediately, a bunch of churchgoers turned previously hidden automatic weapons toward him and his family. Laughton sprang into action, turning the target into stone. I quickly leapt across the church, interposing myself between the gunmen and the target's family. I heard some commotion behind me, presumably it was Elvis attacking some other gunmen. Davis disappeared momentarily; he's certainly an unpredictable sort, but in a relaible sort of way.
While I was tending to some gunmen, Laughton managed to complete his stoning of the villains' chief target. The captain appeared suddenly, grabbing the stoned gangster and throwing a beautiful spiral down the center of the church right into the chest of the Gameshow host. If the Lions had a quarterback with that kind of accuracy, we'd be a lock on the superbowl this year. When the statue struck its target, a sickly crunch echoed through the cathedral, driving the villain back into a wall, and knocking one of his hench-models down.
One of the other models send me some type of mental message. At the time, I thought nothing of it, but subsequently, I've come to believe that it might have been some sort of subtle attack. A couple of the models fired some sort of restraining beam at me; I noticed some gunmen aiming at me, so I remained still, allowing their bullets to blast the bonds away, much to their chagrin. Elvis covered the length of the church moving at an incredible speed; he quickly neutralized one model, and began working on another. I leapt over to help him out with the third villainess, but misjudged my strength and almost killed her. The shock of the attack knocked both of us through the floor and into a Sunday School class below. I quickly bandaged her up and returned to the fight.
By this time there wasn't much left of it. Inspired by The Captain's example, I grabbed the statue and threw it at a bunch of gunmen. They mostly managed to leap out of the way; only one hesitated, and the statue only struck a glancing blow on him. Laughton easily finished him with his pistol.
I noticed that a small melee was going on around The Captain about this time, as he tried to pull someone away from a few gunmen. As he escaped, I headed over to clean up the hostiles. My attempt at a "two headed smack attack" (at Laughton's prompting) turned out looking more like a Moe Howard Stooge Slap. It seemed kind of funny at the time; the gunmen were so upset that they couldn't hit me from two feet away. While they were shooting, I noticed that The Gameshow host had seemingly come to life, and was floating out the door. I alerted Elvis, who used his incredible speed to quickly catch up.
I headed out the door, m aking it just in time to see Elvis pick up a car, swing it around, and apparently strike an invisible target who I had failed to notice. While I was marveling at this, the fight in the church grew suddenly quiet; apparently the villains were surrendering. The two who had shot so poorly at me were apparently disgraced so badly that they killed themselves.
I headed back to the basement to tend to model I had so badly injured, watching over her till an ambulance arrived, and worrying about Aela. Aela showed up a bit later with stories about a massacre at the gas station. I'm glad she was OK, but this really makes me worry about her participation in this dangerous business.
I hesitate to record the next series of events; they feel more like a nightmare than a series of recollections. I've spent a lifetime fighting against the ravenous beast that lives within me, but for the first time, I'm beginning to think I might lose, and I'm wondering whether I care. The memories of the last day are painful, but if I am to stand a chance at dealing with the evil that my other side brings, I must accurately record my recollections.
After the fight at the church, after the wounded had been attended to, after the bodies had been searched, and the surviving villains properly duct taped, it was time for questions. I asked Sammy to give me a hand - Sammy is the mutant formerly known as Elvis. Like The Captain, he seems to be quite good intentioned, but unlike The Captain, he appears to be very much influenced by his context. This undoubtedly contributed to some of the grisly events that followed.
Sammy and I set out to question two gunmen who had been taken prisoner. We devised a plan in which Sammy would take the appearance of one of the villains while I pretended torture. This worked reasonably well; Sammy seemed to get a kick out of pretending to be grievously injured. We followed up with a similar attempt on The Gameshow Host which; much to my discredit, almost resulted in his escape. Fortunately Aela got things straightened out. She deserves a nice night out for that. After this; we tried our routine on the announcer; making threats against his (now unconscious) friend, the Gameshow Host.
About this time I began to feel a change come over myself, almost as if I was in a dream, observing someone else through their own eyes. I felt horrible cravings; most prominent of which was a need to devour human flesh. The Announcer apparently sensed this, quickly divulging all of his knowledge of his group's plans to Sammy in return for Sammy's pledge to keep me at bay.
Only one more subject remained for questioning, Sol Bernstein himself.. Originally, it was my intention to leave this task to Hamlet; his professional techniques would seem to be the best route. But as I searched for Hamlet, the horrible feelings inside my tortured brain led me to want a crack at Bernstein also. I wanted to see him cringe in fear, looking straight into the eyes of a hideous death. At the same time, I feared what I might do if he resisted.
And resist, he did. For a moment, I toyed with blasphemous thoughts of ripping out his intestines and dining on them in his presence. Although Sammy could sense this, he made no attempt to restrain me. Hamlet happened upon the scene and made a token attempt at disgust, but his mind was really focussed more on our results than our methods. I tore myself away and went back to check on the critically injured model. Looking at the pieces of her fractured skull, I was horrified to realize that I felt a strong desire to reach into her skull and stuff a handful of her brain matter in my mouth. I regained control of myself and quickly changed back into my human form. The strange desires stopped, to my overwhelming relief, and I was able to tend to the patient until the EMTs arrived. That should have been the end of it, but the worst was yet to come.
The Captain had left earlier in the company of a very attractive reporter. Aela mentioned that she had an important conference to attend; to my discredit I didn't even know where it was. She disappeared into the sewers, quickly on her way. A police detective appeared, and confronted Sammy, asking about his mutant registration. Sammy didn't appear to understand what he was talking about. A quick call to Terwilliger headed off a potentially nasty situation. After this, Hamlet, with Sammy in tow got into his car and started back towards the office. If I had been in better control of my senses, I would thought more about the fact that the rear of Hamlet's car was heavily loaded.
Upon arriving back at the lab, I quickly stowed the various tissue samples I had acquired in the fight. For a while the exultation over the incredible treasures I had obtained drove the morning's unpleasantness from my mind. But, as I carefully stowed them in the refrigerator, I heard some loud thumping sounds from the offices above and climbed the stairs to investigate.
When I got there, I noticed that Sammy
was talking to Velda, Laughton Davis' new receptionist, about getting his
registration straightened out. I called Terwilliger again, asking him to make
sure things were expedited. He responded by asking me whether Sammy knew
anything about the ABC Chemical Corporation. When I mentioned this name to
Sammy, he was shaken, mumbling something about coming from there. Apparently he
was a product of one of their lab experiments, and they are keen to see him
returned (A fact I can sympathize with to some degree.). Terwilliger confirmed
this, adding that ABC has no legal right to the return of a sentient being, but
their stance is that they are not seeking a sentient being. He recommended that
for the time being, Sammy should lay low. He revealed Sammy's real
name, x2783, but this seemed to confuse Sammy. I asked Sammy about the
possibility of a "tour" of ABC's unscrupulous laboratories
sometime. He seemed quite willing to provide a guide. I'm fairly
sure I'll wind up taking him up on this sooner or later. It would be
interesting to find how similar their efforts are to
my own.
I should have just headed back down to my lab, but instead I decided to check on what was going on in Hamlet's office. He had turned Bernstein to stone, and brought him along. Hamlet said he had a few more questions to ask. It seemed like a bad idea to me, but it would be hard convincingly to distance myself from this kidnapping, so in a leap of incredibly bad judgment, I decided to help in the interrogation. Initially, I hoped to minimize our potential liability by making sure that the interrogation took place in a featureless room that could be represented to be inside the church, since Bernstein had no idea of the passage of time when stoned. For all he would know on awaking, he had not been kidnapped. It would be close to impossible to prove. But then I got involved in the interrogation.
I turned to troll form and began asking aggressive questions. Bernstein failed to respond, and even attempted to poke fun at my tactics. I asked the others, Hamlet and The Captain, to leave the room. Then things got rough. Bernstein didn't properly respond to being left alone in the room with a maniac, which was his own mistake. As he continued to steadfastly refuse to provide information, I lost control. A few minutes later, he was missing part of his ear and I was chewing on his dismembered finger. I did have some new information though, which I dutifully recorded in my Palm Pilot. When I started wondering about the taste of his heart, I left the room, asking The Captain to take over. He was horrified to find Bernstein covered with blood, but he managed to make the best of the situation by prying more facts from Bernstein. Hamlet went last, and he too was successful.
I knocked Bernstein out and performed
some "deconstructive" surgery on his wounds, such that they might more
closely resemble battle injuries, and not the scars of torture. I couldn't
get the thought of his heart entirely out of my mind till I had changed back to
my human form. We resolved to drop Benstein by the police station; shortly
after completing this, a Tocci gunman finished Bernstein for good. I have
to admit that I was not at all upset to see his death derail the possibility of
his testimony against us. We managed to capture the gunman (with the help
of Bob
Rogers and his Black Buick) and turn him over to the police.
Hamlet mentioned that he's noticed traces of salt on the shoes of some of the gunmen. A consultation with Velda told us that there was a large complex of abandoned salt mines underneath Detroit, and she happened to know where an entrance was. The four of us, Sammy, Hamlet, The Captain, and myself decided to have a look, and see whether we could track down more of the gang.
After a bit of walking, and noticing some hidden cameras, we (actually I) managed to trigger a trap. The mine almost blew my leg off - it took nearly thirty seconds for me to fully recover. Following this was a series of other traps, consisting of mines and spiked pits. Hamlet displayed a new talent by turning himself into a large cylinder, and getting The Captain to push himself ahead of the group like some large cartoonish minesweeper. But it worked. After poking around a bit more, we happened into a poorly executed ambush, which we dispatched immediately. I helped Laughton with the interrogations after the fight, remaining largely in control this time.
The thug apparently told us everything he knew about the operation, which wasn't much, in the greater scheme of things. We found an administrative area, and a secret door into the sewer, where we tracked down another group of thugs. A few words, and a gruesome show of force convinced them to surrender without a fight. Unfortunately one of them apparently had a cyanide tooth, committing suicide under our very noses. Without thinking, I bit a piece of his arm off to check; he had indeed been poisoned, and the other thugs immediately understood that we meant business.
To help us in our interrogation, Sammy and I arranged a ruse in which I pretended to bring the fallen leader back to life with a glowing concoction of a couple of harmless chemicals. Sammy then took on the form of the recently killed man. This helped us to extract what little information these lackies had. In the course of the questioning, we found that they were inspected regularly by another higher-up thug, and that there was some sort of meeting spot at a "holy" location. We presumed that they meant the church. This was a long day, in which we accomplished many things. I pulled out the dead leader's heart and ate it. I have to admit that it was delicious.
After the preceding events, the end of the day came almost as an anticlimax.
In the salt mines, one of the thugs had said something about a church as being a gathering place for their gang. On a hunch, we figured that they might be talking about the church we'd had our fight in earlier in the day, so we headed back there. Sammy disguised himself as the thugs' leader and we arranged ourselves around the church to keep an eye on him (While leaving an eye with Sammy, I also left an ear). Apparently Aela hadn't left town; I called her and she joined us.
Fortunately, we didn't have to wait long. A man approached Sammy and muttered some sort of obvious code word. Unfortunately, none of us had any idea what the reply to the code might be. The man drew a gun to fire on Sammy. We weren't too worried about a handgun doing much damage to Sammy; he's pretty resilient. We were quite worried about the gunman biting into a cyanide tooth, though, so I shot en eye into his mouth to check, then threw my hand into his mouth to extract it.
After calming the crowd, we headed back to base for an interrogation. While the thug was unconscious, I did some cursory work on his jaw (unfortunately broken while extracting the tooth.) His fear of the Troll apparently made him somewhat more tractable, as Laughton did a superior job of pulling information from him.
During this time, I noticed a lot of friction between Laughton and Aela. At one point, Laughton instructed me to "control my woman." I considered breaking his arms for this affront, but decided that Aela would be angry with me for interceding, and that Laughton had had a tough day and was perhaps acting out. I'll have to keep an eye on him to make sure that his misogynistic tendencies don't jeopardize the group. Aela can take care of herself, though, as she's certainly seen this type of attitude before.
In any event, we managed to complete the interrogation. We found that the Purple Hats had an entrance to their base hidden in the restroom of the church. We decided to sneak into the base disguised as the thug, two lieutenants, and a couple of kegs of "fortified" beer (courtesy of Bud Girl). Aela transformed herself into water and flowed into a keg. Then Hamlet showed a new side of himself by transforming into an ice sculpture that could be melted and poured into the same keg.
We easily penetrated the base, located in the salt mines. One of the main rooms was decorated to appear as if it was a park. Plastic trees towered over astro turf, punctuated by plastic flowers. For some reason, this image sticks in my mind giving me eerie insight into the fanatical leanings of the Purple Hats. Here, we ran into Levi, who was completely fooled by Sammy's impersonation. After a minor altercation in a restroom in which we disabled some guards, we proceeded to Levi's room to immobilize him and to see whether anything interesting turned up. Levi was quickly Duct Taped into a gleaming gray mummy.
A search of the premises turned up some documents mentioning mutants that were presumably being kept nearby. Sammy summoned a thug lieutenant and asked him to show me (disguised as one of the thugs) where the mutants were kept. Before we left, someone showed up at the door and inquired about whether it was a good time for Levi's daughter to visit. Apparently this was some sort of code phrase, and we dealt with the consequences soon after.
On my way to "see the mutants," I was taken aside and held at gunpoint. This was unfortunate, as I did not have my full troll-powers activated at the time. I'd left an ear with Sammy, and was quickly apprised of the fact that a large group of enemies was gathering outside the door to Levi's office. I began my transformation.
In the past, I'd always thought of the mutation as a quick, very painful 12 seconds, almost seeming to be over immediately. In this case, it seemed to move in extreme slow motion, with two thugs shooting at me, and a very ugly, and obviously imbalanced mutant menacing, while I heard the sounds of my comrades being mowed down just down the hall. Whatever was fighting them was quick and dangerous. My heart sank as I heard Aela yell and then go quiet. A few seconds later, I could just make out the sound of an enemy threatening to blow Aela's head off while she lay unconscious.
In a murderous rage, I completed the transformation, dashed out of the room, and tore down the hall, noticing along the way that the Captain was down, Sammy had a lot of bullet marks on him, and that two more enemy mutants had appeared. I paid no attention to them, diving into the room where I'd left Aela, and quickly clearing it of enemies. A few more rushed in, but I put Levi's furniture to good use, rendering them unconscious in the broken ruins of a very expensive desk.
The battle outside still raged, but the tables had turned, as The Captain recovered, and, wielding the mighty stone of Laughton, helped Sammy team up on the remaining mutant. I added a crushing leap onto the tough-looking one before returning to Aela's side to administer first aid. While doing this, I noticed that one of the thugs had opened some sort of secret area and was busily typing something into a console. I jumped across the room and tore him away. To my horror, I noticed that it seemed to be counting down. I yelled for help, then demanded that the thug turn it off. The suicidal scum of course disagreed so I smashed him, somewhat half-heartedly. He finished the job with his pistol.
Laughton showed up, and after looking at the device for a while, we just unplugged it, then mopped up the few remaining thugs. By the time we got to them, they were shooting their own survivors, but we quickly put a stop to that, and I managed to patch a few of them up who had been left for dead. We wound up with a lot of prisoners, including three new mutants, who I dutifully sampled.
The rest of the evening was a blur, as I fought my conflicting emotion of fear that something bad could have happened to Aela, and rage at those responsible. Apparently the mutant known as Sheila Shield was primarily responsible, tricking the rest of the group, and inflicting grievous damage on most of them. She's stoned now, courtesy of Laughton, and due for a settling up soon. The Captain spits when he talks of her perfidy in pretending to be on our side, and that's saying something. I hesitate to think about what the Troll might do to her if given a chance.
Another long day. I should be near the breaking point by now, having been active for nearly 30 straight hours, but I feel fine. Maybe something has changed, maybe I've always been able to go without sleep. In any event this is a useful advantage.
Today was almost as bad as yesterday. It started on a pleasant note, as Gere-Luce dropped by to direct a team from SI in building a storage chamber for the various villains we collected yesterday. With Gere-Luce in charge of design and implementation, I was able to attend to running tests on the large number of tissue samples I've collected over the past few days.
I found some interesting things. First, and foremost, the most recent set of mutants were created by ABC Chemical, and they were full of flaws. Apparently Sammy was a fluke. Apparently the most advanced mutant-creation labs I know of still have a long way to go before they can properly produce mutants. In light of my own background, I find it extraordinary that Chinese scientists were able to create _me_ more than two decades ago. I guess this squares with the fact that we haven't seen legions of Chinese super-soldiers. But I can't help wondering at the circumstances of my creation. I may have more in common with Sammy than with any other mutant I've run across.
Still, in the DNA of the one known as Scuz had some tantalizing little tidbits about how I could improve my own abilities. When I get the time and resources, I think I can perfect his mutation, apply it to my own cells, and become even more resistant to damage.
In any event, before I finished my initial samplings, I was interrupted by a call from SI asking me toexamine some sort of fish that had accidentally been sent over. I politely reminded them that I was somewhat busy at the moment. They persisted, and, ever the obliging servant, I agreed to have a look. I had a bit of lunch first that culminated in gunplay - Jonas Hell is certainly an interesting character. In any event as soon as I unboxed the container with the fish in it, I saw a fish-looking creature that promptly shot into the air and disappeared. Judging by a trail of water droplets, it was apparently able to travel through solid objects.
I reported this to SI and was instructed to retrieve the fish. Fortunately Sammy and The Captain volunteered to go along and help out. I called Aela to ask for her assistance, but she was involved in some sort of surgery on a companion fish. Apparently these are the last of their kind and must be bred within a short time. So, I called Rogers and had him drive us to Belle Isle (the Bable fish' natural habitat, or so I understand.) Once we arrived, we quickly ran into a lone teenage girl who informed us that she was hunting vampires. I figured it was some sort of goth pretension, but, just in case she was serious I asked her a few questions about her quarries and loaded up on stakes. I'd rather feel foolish then unprepared. I transformed into "The Troll."
We walked into the woods for a bit before running across a talking bird who directed us into an ambush. At least I got one of his feathers (cost me $20). Sure enough, about a dozen vampires jumped us. Between their numbers and their quickness, I had quite a mess on my hands. But The Captain and Sammy managed to turn the tide with the proper use of stakes. After the battle was over, I gathered up one vampire to take back for testing. I was suddenly overcome with curiosity about the taste of a vampire. I pulled off a finger, but a sudden move by The Captain knocked it away and caused me to reconsider. I must have been insane. Its probably a good thing The Captain was there and paying attention.
The girl reappeared and seemed unhappy about the fact that we'd failed to run down a few of the vampires. She also got a bit bossy about my plans to take one back for testing. Kids today think they know everything. I gave her my number and said she could drop by and see the lab if she liked. An extra friend is always appreciated.
Anyway, we trekked a bit farther and ran into an odd mutant known as the Ugly Thespian who also told us he knew where the fish was. Initially we weren't too trusting, but once we got a real feel for his distrust of us, we felt a bit better. He seemed genuinely concerned about the fish, and this helped me to better understand that the work we were doing probably was for the best. Soon we ran into a huge mutant guarding the fish; The Captain lured him away, and we recaptured the fish with the help of the strange mutant. The Captain flew us out to avoid further adventures. I completed the work on the fish and reported back.
The girl, Buffy, showed up at the lab and seemed to show signs of a crush on me, symptoms I've seen all too often. I sent her away, and had her meet Hell. Hell immediately latched on to her, which didn't seem right somehow.
Eduardo Tocci had called earlier to make arrangements for a meeting at a nice Italian restaurant. This had me wondering that if a group of American gangsters was terrorizing Rome, would they hand out in Hamburger joints? What about English gangsters? Maybe to be properly effective gangsters you need a proper ethnic food. Aela arrived and we headed off to the restaurant.
Tocci himself seemed gracious enough. I'm almost sorry that we'll eventually probably wind up killing him. After a nice dinner thankfully devoid of conversational maneuvering, he had the simple request that we keep the police out of our dealings with the Purple Hats, sending them tom his organization. Now THAT would make things easier, but it wouldn't actually be right, and if you want to be a vigilante, you really need to be careful about what's right and what's close to right. The rest of the group (Sammy excepted) felt the same way, and we delivered our response in as diplomatic a way as possible.
As we left, Laughton pointed out someone at a nearby table who was acting suspiciously, and who he believed to be associated with the DA's office. We had a brief chat, asking her to come to the office for a longer discussion. We quickly reassembled and gave her a light grilling without learning too much. She didn't really strike me as a threat, though.
After this, I helped Laughton finish up some questioning of a few more detainees. This was interrupted by a phone call from the woman from the DA's office, Suzanne Palmer. Apparently she was in some danger. We quickly headed to the address indicated, where we found her under attack by about a half a dozen heavily armed thugs. I managed to get my foot hung on Sammy's wing as I lept off, doing more damage to myself than the thugs managed to inflict collectively on us. Apparently this was part of some larger plot to commit wide-scale murder (these Purple Hats are straight out of a Spider novel). We headed off the rest of the group, but the leader managed to poison himself before I could stop him. I need to pay better attention to this odd habit of theirs.
Anyway, during the fight we learned that Palmer was also a mutant, a mentalist it turns out. She obligingly headed back to the office and helped us finish up the last of the interrogations with no blood. It was almost civil, and we learned an astounding amount of information; enough to probably finish off the purple hats. Everyone else headed home, but I stayed on since I still have a mountain of work to finish. But as everyone was leaving, I got a sudden strange feeling that someone I know is in grave danger.
The first person I thought of was Professor Xavier. I called the School, but didn't manage to reach him. I'll spend the next few hours double checking to make sure everyone else is OK, then resume my efforts to locate Prof. X in the morning.
I've had a chance to reflect on the craziness of the last three days, and I've decided that I need to find a better way to control the Troll's rage. I think I'll call my mother and ask about good reputable local Buddhist priests. I'd better remember to send flowers first.
A day of unusual triumph.
The Purple Hats are smashed, and Xavier has been recovered.
We started out by following a lead to an abandoned base in the salt mines. Sammy showed a new talent by using his nose to lead us into a nice little ambush. I managed to get shot around a dozen times by those new high-powered weapons the purple hats have been using - I now know what it feels like to be knocked unconscious. It wasn't pleasant. Fortunately, I had a whole collection of the drugs I've been working on, and managed to recover myself quite nicely, then I was able to give nice boosts to Aela and The Captain. I'm starting to wonder whether my future lies in more of a support role. I do have to admit that while it was satisfying to see my intellectual efforts used to such good advantage, I was a bit sorry to almost completely miss out on the fight itself.
There was one particularly hairy moment when a stray shot struck a youngster. I felt almost powerless using my regular paramedical skills on him, unable to try my new regenerating drug because of its need to be specially attuned to each individual. Fortunately, the boy was saved.
After the fight, we did the usual interrogations, except that for some reason I seemed to have even less control over my anger than I've been having lately. I really need to bring myself under better control. Fingers and ears sure are tasty, though.
During the battle, Slayer was stoned by Laughton, making him our prisoner at the conclusion of the contest. Very soon after this, we received a call from the remnants of The Gang of Five demanding that we turn over Slayer in exchange for Professor Xavier. We agreed, and immediately set about making plans for this next challenge. Aela, unfortunately was called out of town due to an emergency concerning a possible outbreak of Hoof and Moth disease up North. Suzanne disappeared from out ranks as mysteriously as she originally joined them. Laughton and Sammy went ahead to check out the place. Davis and myself stayed behind - I was rapidly mixing new doses for my depleted drug supplies. Davis seemed to be bent on harming himself in some fashion, mixing various chemicals and drinking them.
Shortly before the time arrived, we rendezvoused with Sammy and Laughton to compare notes. I left an ear with Sammy so he could keep me posted. I do wish that this wasn't so painful. Sammy and Laughton resumed their watch of the place of the swap, a local mall. The Captain and I waited outside with the unconscious Slayer, ready to swoop in at the proper moment. Soon Sammy reported sighting Bud Girl and Mocker. I clung to The Captain as he rocketed into the open-topped mall. His flight powers appear to be much enhanced since we originally met. I wonder what he's been up to.
In any event, before entering, I had the presence of mind to dispense doses of my "Bud Girl Antidote." While this did not make us totally immune to her powers, it did greatly enhance our resistance. We blew right by her in time to see Sammy had fallen under her thrall. As quickly as I could, I leapt into battle against The Mocker (who was guarding Prof. X). I got a pretty good shot in. The Captain quickly joined in, and I tossed a dose of Bud Girl Antidote to Sammy. He managed to inject himself before Bud Girl was able to react. He joined us against Mocker, who went down quickly. I had no idea where Laughton was, but I did notice Bogeyman and Bud Girl seeming to fly out of the mall through the roof at an amazing speed. I suspect that this had something to do with the new villain in this group, the Mosquito. Apparently Laughton was unharmed. Also, the villains managed to escape with a large diamond that had been ensconced in the central chandelier. Although some villains escaped I felt relieved at the fact that we had managed to recapture the professor, we got Mocker, and we took no casualties.
I headed back to the lab, where I got a nasty call from some jackass at SI upset at the methods I've been using to save lives. On some level, I suspect he has a point, in that people consider it unheroic to use torture to extract information. This is of course nonsense. It's unheroic to fail to save lives. But, I suppose that public opinion counts for something, and the jackasses seem to be in control, so I'll try harder to play by their rules. I noncommittally told him that his message was understood. I guess that part of my "job" is now to serve as a role model. I'll try to keep that in mind.
Terwilliger also showed up to bug me, but after my session with the SI geek, he gave me no real trouble. I assured him that I'd try harder to be more like the heroes from the Western serials people seem so fond of.
I managed to wake the Professor up without too much trouble, and called Summers to come fetch him. The professor said he'd gone to the gang to try and reform them, but got ambushed. I really wish he had informed me of his plans beforehand. He tries entirely too hard to see the good in people. He was able to let us know that BogeyMan is a dangerous lunatic, which at least confirms the impression we've picked up.
We then had a look at Mocker, who turned out to be some sort of robotic contraption with some biological functions. I called Gere-Luce to come over and have a look. He wasn't able to make much of Mocker, but he did point out a self-destruct mechanism. His attempts to decipher Mocker's programming code appear to have irreparably damaged it.
We also discussed what should be done with Slayer. I fully believe that he should be disposed of like the trash he is, but, in line with the sudden importance of being "role models," I suggested that he be turned in. Laughton didn't seem convinced, but I was not up to arguing with him. Much.
I had Prof. X come back to the house and spend the evening. It can get lonely when Aela is away.
All in all, a successful day.
Nov ember 16, 2000
Today Summers picked up the Professor. Aela is still away. Seeing some of the old New School gang has a bitter-sweet taste to it. A lot of water has passed beneath the bridge in the last few years. And in the last few weeks.
Nov ember 17, 2000
My sewer experiments seem to be bearing fruit. We are closing in on the location of Bud Girl.
Today I also started my sessions with Loo "Lou" Kwan, a master of Kung Fu recommended by my mother. Laughton tagged along, presumably hoping to brush up on his hand to hand skills (which are considerable). I was hoping that I could follow the master's approach to mastering my inner turmoil. Kwan seemed mostly interested in asking why I didn't spend more time with my mother, and why I didn't spend more time observing traditional Chinese customs. I don't understand the point of these kinds of questions, but I do understand why my mother recommended him. After an hour of this pointlessness, I agreed to return in a few days. I'm not sure Laughton will, though. I suspect he learned a lot more about my family than he desired. On the way home, he tried to convince me that he had gone along to build up his mental toughness, and that the lesson was helpful. Laughton couldn't tell the truth if his life depended on it.
Nov ember 21, 2000
The End.
Perhaps I should explain a bit.
Prince Namor, aka "Speedo Man" showed up at the Blue Moon today announcing that he would soon be taking Aela with him - after killing her current husband, that is. Fortunately he was confused about my relationship with Aela, thinking that The Troll was her husband. Laughton tried to talk him around this. I managed to get a tissue sample before provoking him into hitting me. He hits very hard. I experienced unconsciousness for the second time in a week. Namor left a slip of paper with a PO Box on it that we could use to reach him. In the lab, I found that he had a vulnerability to fire, and I began to think of a plan.
I immediately dismissed the idea of
fighting him directly with the group. My revised analysis of his
sample showed that he is far too agile for any of us, Sammy included, to
hit. He's also got reasonable defenses against Laughton's stoning
power. If we fought him, he'd quickly take us apart, probably killing
several of us. I also briefly considered finding a way to transfer Namor's
desire onto Bud Girl, but this method was too unreliable. I finally
decided that I would have to settle this with Namor man-to-man. Just me
and him.
I found an abandoned building downtown. I headed to a few local stores, and picked up the ingredients I'd need to make napalm. I revisited the building downtown, and trapped it thoroughly. I sent a note to Namor asking him to meet me in the building sometime tomorrow afternoon. When he shows up, I'll fight him. If I lose, the act of killing me will be has last. When my heart stops beating, a device I've implanted in my chest will trigger the traps. The building will collapse into a raging inferno of sticky, fiery death. I will not survive. I sincerely hope that he will not either.
I've been very careful not to share this plan with my fellow crime-fighters. I know that nothing could keep them from interfering with this plan if they knew of it. I'm grateful for their sentiments, but this is something I have to face on my own.
POSTSCRIPT
Nov ember 22, 2000
I just finished Thanksgiving with Aela. The rest of the gang stopped by briefly, giving me a chance to see them one last time. I appreciate all they've done for me. I wish I knew of some other way out of this. I just hope that bastard burns to ashes.
Nov ember 22, 2000
Well, I'm not dead after all.
I showed up as agreed at the building to find Namor waiting for me. I told him how I felt about Aela, how she was not his Princess, and how I was going to do my best to stop him. I didn't mention the explosives. I crossed the room, put up my fists and told him I was ready to go.
But, he didn't want to fight after all. Apparently the bravado of my sacrifice induced him to seriously consider my claims that Aela was not his Princess Lakura. He asked me to present proof. I cited several eyewitnesses who could testify that Aela could not possibly have been where he thought she was. He asked to meet with me and Aela to see if her story would corroborate mine, agreeing to suspend hostilities at this point.
I agreed, calling Aela, and making sure she was available. After Namor left, I quickly deactivated the traps. Namor met us at a swank downtown French restaurant wearing a $2000 suit. I brought along a pile photographs documenting my history with Aela. Of course, I had to let him on on the fact that I am indeed the Troll. He was taken aback at first by the rudeness of my earlier behavior towards him, but he soon seemed able to reconcile it. We quickly managed to convince him that Aela was not Lakura, to my extreme relief.
Then, an odd thing happened. Aela asked him whether he knew who her parents were, or whether it was possible that he could be her father! Suddenly my mind flashed back to yesterday's tissue analysis and some odd things I'd noticed. I was immediately convinced that Namor was indeed her natural father. And that Lakura was probably her mother. I kept this to myself. Namor told Aela that she could not be his daughter, as he had no living offspring. Somehow I imagine his opinion will get straigtened out in time.
We agreed to try to find Lakura and to attempt to convince her to return to him willingly. Namor seemed a bit moved at the prospect. I have to admit that I'm pretty excited at the idea of getting a sample of Aela's mother's DNA, whether she returns to him or not.
For some reason, I don't seem to have any idea who Lakura might be. But I'll be working hard at find out out. You can bank on that.
(Unfortunately most of the entries previous to this one have been lost as the result of an "accident.")
Today, a man known as Jochen Kietersling showed up at the Laughton Agency. Kietersling is an odd type even among the odd. He's a shadowy German of indeterminate age who seems to have a strong grasp of the supernatural. Years ago, I would not have had much interest in this, but, as I've been working on my unifying theory, I've come to the conclusion that sometimes the science that we can understand might have no bearing on the explanation of certain phenomena. Certain genetic mutations seem to have effects that defy not only science, but even defy the imagination. These mutants are deemed to be "supernatural" in nature. For the last year, I've been banging my head against rocks (and replacing those rocks regularly) trying to get a handle on how these forces can exist and manifest.
Also, in the last year, I've seen enough things to inspire me to open my mind to the possibility of alternate explanations. How indeed does a being like Herr Kietersling, or Doctor Strange, or the Necromancer wield their power? How can a cellular mutation give someone the power to do what they do? I had read of various forbidden tomes that discuss this kind of power, and began to wonder whether such a tome might suggest clues to a solution.
Then, out of the blue, Kietersling showed up with a copy of the fabled Necronomicon. He meant it as some sort of enticement to Hamlet, but Hamlet made a facetious remark and turned down the gift. I quickly spoke up, asking if I could borrow and study the book. Perhaps, somewhere in the tediously scribbled pages of this ancient tome lay a clue to my riddle.
The book itself was in fairly good condition, considering its age. It appeared to be a Latin translation by Wormius, probably printed in Spain sometime in the seventeenth century. Fortunately, I know a bit of Latin, and I was able to begin my studies immediately.
Much of the book was comprised of a rambling descriptions of extra-planar gods, and of other places beyond the imagination of mortal minds. These descriptions seemed to be repeated several times, but they were not entirely repetitive. It seemed that in the repetition that new suggestions and ideas would creep into my mind unbidden. I put the book down, had a strong shot of my "fortified" scotch and sat down to think. My mind was swimming.
I headed to the lab and fixed up a dose of psychic dampener. If Suzanne was playing with my mind, that should have pushed push her out. Instead, the sensation just got stronger and my head began to throb, just as if a concrete pole had been pushed slowly through it. Shakily, I produced a counter dose, and the pain lessened. This made little sense. I realized that in my haste to examine the book, I'd forgotten to turn on my Mental Augmentation Device. I flipped the switch and began to relax as the smooth euphoria of magnified intelligence flowed into my brain. A few minutes later, not only was I in top shape, but the odd sensation in my head was gone, replaced by a new hungering curiosity. These old stories, fables, if you will, might actually be suggesting something significant, but even with my boosted powers, I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
I returned to the book. Besides the descriptions of beings and places, there was also some sort of strange poetry that didn't immediately make any sense at all. And, there were some odd recipes. Spells. At first I dismissed them with a snicker. I concentrated on the poetry. It seemed senseless, but something in the back of my mind seemed to be just on the verge of figuring something out. It was like calculus back in the second grade - just ever so slightly beyond my grasp. This was thrilling and a bit frightening. Perhaps Kietersling has done something to the book. It could be laced with some sort of strange psychotropic bacteria.
With great willpower, I pulled myself away and placed the book in my safe. All I wanted was to return home to Aela. To gaze on her face, and to know that my child is safe.
April 18, 2001
The last night was strange indeed. After looking through the Necronomicon, my dreams were haunted by indescribable visions of things my mind was unfit to assimilate. After these passed, I found myself in some odd hamlet that seemed in some way familiar. I floated, disembodied, around the village, and marveled at all the cats present. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I head "In the Land of Ulthar, no man may kill a cat." Though I seemed to be disembodied and invisible, one cat seemed to sense my presence, following me around and watching carefully.
I awoke in a raging fever. My body was literally coming apart. I was blind and deaf. I could not move. I could feel nothing beyond my torso. After a few searching movements, I arrived at the conclusion that my limbs, my ears, and my eyes had been removed. I tried to regrow them, but I could not. I tried to summon them to my presence, but all I could feel was a faint sense of fear. Would Aela be sympathetic or angry? I hoped I didn't have to find out.
I used all my will power to detach my head from my torso, then managed to grow a few sets of legs from the gaping wound where my neck had been. At least I was mobile I had a fairly good sense of where the furniture was, and of where I'd left my Mental Augmentation Device (Gere-Luce insisted on giving it that name during the prototype process). I slowly crept across the room, scaled (perhaps slithered) up a table leg and grasped it with a thin, spidery leg. I drew it to my head, and flipped the switch.
Clarity of mind returned. The events of the previous evening had a strange resonance, and I figured that something in my dream was so terrifyingly horrific that every piece of me that could leave, did. As far as I knew, only Lefty had anything beyond insect-level intelligence so their reasoning was easy enough to duplicate. I quickly decided where they would have fled to, made my way there, and began restoring my senses. I must admit, replacing my eyes in their sockets was an immense relief. Within a few minutes, I had everything except Lefty, who had almost surely spent the night in the basement with Sammy. I quietly headed to the basement and managed to collect Lefty without making enough sound for Sammy to stop pretending that he was asleep.
Fortunately, Aela is a very proficient sleeper, and I managed to clean the blood stains from the bed using a remarkable chemical concoction I heard about on late night television. So clean, even a water-elemental wife can't tell the difference!
I spent the day reflecting on my experiences. I resolved that I would wear the MAD to sleep. Perhaps it could help make sense of what I'd experienced. I longed to get back to the Necronomicon, but instead I wound up spending all working out a distribution deal for a new SihnTek product with some sub-humans named Chad and Logan. Piteous Fools! They would dare to trifle with me using their business-school stratagems and their transparent attitudes. I spared them no mercy, consigning them to a deal that they will regret soon enough. But they will profit, non-the-less. Yes, they will profit And, they will be back for more, like the greedy maggots they are.
Finally, the night arrived. Aela was a bit suspicious about me spending two nights in a row at home, but I told here I was unable to tear myself away from her beauty. She knew I was lying, but she was happy enough to hear such lies that she left it at that. I apologized to Lefty about last night, then nestled him in his "room" for the evening. I told him I might need him in the morning. The bedroom door is locked - to contain my limbs should they feel the need to flee again. I will strap a blindfold around my head to make sure my eyes and ears stay put.
October 20, 2001 - November 10, 2001