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The horrors that I have seen today could not possibly be matched by the beast that I have been fighting with inside. These visions I may never get out of my head.
I decided to look around a little more and found a few new places, and got myself in the middle of a mess. It all started ratehr innocently at the Diner. I asked the old lady behind the counter about the people that I saw at the beach, the ones who call themselves Thin Bloods. She sort of remembered them, but it could have been any other surfer couple too. Hell, I could have described Hitler and she would ahve rememberred seeing smoeone like that sometime recently.
In the conversation she mentioned a nice young lady who was in the diner and looking very scared. She said that she allowed her to remain there for quite a qhile until she was okay to leave. She had left behind a couple items though.
Somehow in the conversation I was able to convince the old lady that I knew her and would erturn the items to her. Shit, I don't even think I was the one who said anything about knowing her, somehow she just started assuming. Among the items were a picture and a bail bond (odd item to have).
After leaving the diner, I looked around a little more and found a bail bond office. I went inside and talked to the owner. It sounds like his business is brisk.
In the conversation, he mentioned that he was worried about his bounty hunter. He has sent him looking for someone who was supposed to be at the tattoo parlor and hasn't seen him in days. He gave me Carson's (the bounty hunter) address and I headed to see if I could find him.
After getting into his appartment I searched and could only find a key to the tattoo parlor and little else accept a message on his computer about the tattoo parlor and that being the fugitive's last known location. I took the key and headed toward the tattoo parlor.
At the tattoo parlor it was very quiet, almost too quiet. I carefully looked around and noone was there. Then the phone rang and it was someone looking for McGee (the fugitive). I acted like I knew him and that McGee had been out. In the conversation he mentioned that McGee was going to have an appointment to pose for a couple advertisement photos and missed his chance to make some good money. I like the sound of good money so I said that I would be willing to try, oddly he accepted this offer quickly enough and gave me directions on how to get to his 'studio'. Answering that phone would lead me on a path of dementia that I find hard to describe, how I would like to go back to that conversation and just hang up.
When I arrived at his studio, things looked okay in the first room, until I began to speak to Mr. Timble. He has a freakish obsession with prosthetic body parts, and even has one himself. I soon began to feel uneasy as he so willingly described his obsession and how he felt that to really understand what it was like, he cut off his own orm to get a prosthetic. At that point he said that he needed to get his "tools" and would return.
Every sensible cell in my brain said run like hell, but something dark drew me deeper into his studio, like a moth to hell's flame. I entered the next room and saw what looked like a warehouse of fake parts and many tools, but I'm not sure why this guy needs as many cutting instruments to make fake body parts.
I found a dungeon-like hallway that contained what appeard to be make-shift cells. They were covered in blood andI could sense the horrors that may be occuring. Run dammit run, but I couldn't resist the urge to go farther into the dark hallway.
I cam to one last room and was startled to hear a voice call out frmo one of the cells. Crying for help and explaining the horror that he had been subjected to over the past days. Timble had been slowly dismantling his victim and he spoke of another that he knew was in here with him during the first day but has not heard a sound from her in over a day. He is afraid that she has...
Dammit, Timble heard the conversation and came throught he door lookign to slice me to bits. I swing at him and lad a shot that rocks him backwards. Though fearing exposing myself to a witness, I have no other choice but to use blood magic and purge Timble. He reels in pain but it does not stop him as he lunges for me again. I block his attempt and am able to hit him with another purge and that one sends him lifeless to the ground.
I am able to free his prisoner only to find that it is Carson, the bounty hunter. Several digits have been severed from him and he tells me a story of sheer horror that he has experienced. I look around only to be horrified by the piles of body parts that Timble had discarded like an old pizza box.
I had to leave the area as I could no longer take the sites within that chamer of horrors. Though I felt like heading straight back to my appartment, I ended up going to the bail bond office and telling Carson's boss of what had happened. He paid me 200 dollars for finding him and offered me a job to help find a fugitive. I told him that I would have to think about it and headed back to my appartment.
Before headnig upstairs, I found 150 dollars in the mail box from Lacroix for sending him the blood that I retrieved from the hospital. At least it is getting to be profitable to be a vampire.
I don't know how, but I have begun to accept my new "life". Though I still have visions of what my life once was, I am gettnig a better understanding of what my life could now be. The incredible highs of feeding, the powers that one cannot imagine, the possibility of immortality, it is all starting to make me change my view of my situation.
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