Entry One:

If you're recieving this, you're one of the few people I've trusted to
know what really happened to me, Clarissa B. Most people think I was hit
with some wierd radiation, or had some strange mutation happen. Others
believe that I participated in a brain transplant. The truth is far less
complicated.

It was at a Halloween party. I was dressed in a simple black cape over
my regular clothes, with some plastic fangs. About as simple a vampire
costume as you can get. I noticed this guy, he looked about 18, leaning
against the wall, his eyes passing over everyone in the room over and
over. I walked over to him; I hadn't seen him before.

"Hi." I said. "I'm Clarissa the Vamp. Who're you?" He looked at me for a
long second before answering.

"I'm a warlock." He said, in a cold voice. I looked over his costume. He
was dressed in a long robe, covered in elaborate symbols and runes. The
symbols seemed to change color as he moved.

"Wow, nice costume," I said, trying to be nice. He narrowed his eyes.

"You dare mock me, vixen?" He seemed to really be getting into this.

"You've even got the attitude down," I said. Somehow, this made him even
angrier.

"You dare mock Alcrahz, b----?" Of course I slapped him. No one called
me that. He glared, and raised his hand over his head.

"I curse you with the dark word Chaltak. You shall lose your humanity!"
I started backing away, his hand seemed to be glowing.

Aside from that incident, the party was find. "Alcrahz", or whatever his
name was, vanished soon after. I went home, and I could have sworn I
felt different. But I managed to convince myself that it was just in my
head, that my nails weren't any blacker, and my pupils weren't becoming
slits. What I didn't know was that Alcrahz wasn't lying. He was a real
warlock.

That night I tossed and turned for hours, and my mind was filled with
some of the strangest dreams I'd ever had. I remembered running through
the forest on all fours, catching a rabbit nearly as big as I was,
killing it with my fangs, tearing it apart, and eating it raw. The
images didn't sicken me, rather, they were pleasing.
The next moring I yawned, and tried to get a hold on my senses. Sounds
and smells seemed so strong, and my bed seemed larger. I felt really
hot, and my hands and feet didn't seem to work right. I got out of bed,
and panicked as I realized I was on all fours. My hands were black paws,
and from what I could see, the rest of my body had become vulpine. I ran
to the bathroom, jumped on the toilet, and leaped onto the sink.

A fox looked back at me. I raised one black paw and placed it on the
mirror; the fox did the same thing. Tears started to pour down my face
as I realized that Alcrahz, whoever he was, really was a warlock, he had
really cast a spell, and I really was a fox. I heard footsteps, but
they barely registered.

My mother walked by the door, glimpsed me, and let out a yelp.
"How'd you get in here, little fox?" She said. My heart sank as I
realized she didn't recognize me. I had just one desperate hope. I tried
to talk.

"Mom, it's me. Clarissa." Somehow, I had at least a tiny amount of luck:
I could still talk. My mother was at first understandably distressed. It
was difficult for a while, but after a few weeks, things had settled
back down. I had to make numerous adjustments, but my life got to be
close to normal.

So this Halloween, you might see me (I'm the only fox in the world
wearing earrings). If you do, just remember that people aren't
necessarily what they appear. Even around Halloween, if someone tells
you that their a wizard, sorcerer, vampire, werewolf, or even a warlock,
just remember: They might not be lying.

Entry Two:

The name’s Rosaleen. Rosaleen Oaklen. But everyone calls me Ros. I’m a member of the Church of Heart. Our mission is to save as many people as we can before God takes us home. My little bro, Bryson, is also a member and we kinda have a race going, to see who can have the most friends in Heaven. I’ll win. I have no doubt.

Besides Bryson and me, there’s Nadine. She’s a little older than me but she acts liks she’s my mom. Argh, it’s annoying! She just assumes that she’s in charge. Yeah, right! But she does have some good ideas for the group. Sometimes.
We go from town to town, helping people. It’s our job and –

Wait. I forgot to mention Lorcan. He just joined us not that long ago. We had found him after someone had beaten him up and left him for dead. He’s much better now. Stronger too. He has very strong arms. And dark hair. And darker eyes…

My face is hot. I would blame it on the sun but it’s twilight now. The grass looks black since the fire’s dying. We’re in between towns so we’re camping out.
Why is my face red? I guess…. I don’t know. I know I just met Lorcan a month ago but I can’t stop thinking about him. Wondering about him. Daydreaming about him.

He’s so mysterious! A mystery even onto himself! He has amnesia, you see, and only remembers his name.

I stand up and feed some sticks to the fire. Then I lay down. Two minutes later, I yell, “Stop snoring, Bryson!”

He continues to snore and I could swear I hear Lorcan laugh as I finally fall asleep.

“Rise and shine!” Nadine says brightly.

I groan and roll over. Her voice is brighter than the sun. “It’s not morning yet.” I mumble.

“Don’t be silly.” She says pleasantly.

Huh, normally I annoy her. Why is she in such a great mood?

Bryson was already packing everything. “Get up.” He whines, ready to pack my blanket.

I stick my tongue out at him. I’m sixteen but sometimes I don’t act like it. And I don’t care either. He’s only thirteen. Nadine’s seventeen. And Lorcan? We don’t know. Maybe nineteen, twenty. All I know is that he’s…. I’m blushing again.

“Are you feeling alright, Ros? Your face is red.” Lorcan asks.

Yikes! Is he reading my thoughts? “I… I’m fine. Let’s go.” I rush.

We reach Kientown before the sun climbed above the distant Crich Mountains.

“I’m going to talk to the mayor.” Nandine announces and walked off.

“I’ll come too!” Bryson shouts and he runs after her.

I begin to laugh as a thought suddenly crossed my mind. “Lorcan, do you think Bryson might actually like that stuck-up, prissy Nadine?”

Lorcan laughs too. “Ah, puppy love.”

He has a nice laugh. Then I frown. Puppy love. I’m not in puppy love with Lorcan, am I?

No, I quickly decide. Maybe as I get to know him better, maybe I could fall in love with him. But I’m not, not now at least.

“This town is close to where we found you. Does anything look familiar?”

Now it’s his turn to frown as deep lines form on his face. He slowly glances around. “No. No… wait. That forest… there’s something about that forest.” He points to the left.

“Well, come on!” I grab his arm and start tugging. He follows willingly and I continue to hold on. As we enter the forest, I begin to talk, “Lorcan, I’ve never told anyone this but I hate forests. I dread ‘em. When I was little, I used to have nightmares that I was trapped in one. With anaimals all around me. Ready to eat me up. Or there was a hunter and he was hunting me!” I let go of his arm and quicken my pace. “I never told this to anyone. You must think I’m nothing but a silly girl….” I stop, blushing yet again. The words just seemed to flow and I had never found talking to Lorcan to be so easy, so peaceful, so private. There are so many memories I have with him, of us helping people, journeying together. Suddenly, I knew that I wanted to continue on like this, spending the rest of my like with Lorcan, helping others. Just then, I notice that I was alone.

"Lorcan?” I call, turning around. There he is, twenty steps back. “Sheesh, you scared me.” I practically stomp over to him but I stop when I see his face.

It is twisted. Grotesque even. But his eyes… oh, his eyes! There are no pupils, just black holes, black holes that could swallow a person and send them spiraling down to hell. His breathing is heavier, as if he is panting, animal-like.

“Lorcan?” I say again, hoping this was some king of trance, that he was merely remembering his past. “Locran?”

Slowly, he turns his face to see me and he knocks me down with a single blow. I am so shocked that I struggle to get up but he stomps his foot on my chest and I couldn’t breathe.

Lorcan began to laugh but his laughter was different now, evil and sinister. “You’re so stupid. All of you. Bryson, Nadine, you. You all bought it.

“I don’t have amnesia.

“I know exactly who I am.

“I am a demon.”

I gasp. A… a demon? Lorcan? Lorcan? The guy I’m in love with? I’m in love with a demon?

He laughs again and I shudder. He draws his face close to mine and in his eyes, I see the fires of hell. I could see people being pushed into the crevice, the hole; could hear them scream and wail and grind their teeth. His breath reeks of decay and his tongue is forked.

“I was sent to destroy all of the Church of Heart’s followers. And I shall. And I’ll begin with you.”

“Lorcan.” I say weakly. His foot is stopping my air flow. “Lorcan. You don’t… you don’t have to do this. I know you don’t want to. We’ve helped so many people together! Can a demon do that?”

“It was just so I could lure you into a false sense of security.” He protests but his breath returns to normal.

“And Bryson looks up to you as a brother. I know he’s an annoying pipsqueak but he cares for you. And so does Nadine.”

“And you?” Lorcan says roughly, but I see his eyes, his human eyes before he turns his face away.

“I… I was beginning… at least, I think I was beginning… to love you. I do, I do love you, Lorcan.”

He stares at me and then rage takes over his body and I watch his face as he stabs my heart.

Lorcan stares at Ros. Her eyes. Her eyes are open. Still looking at him. He closes his eyes but hers are still there. Oh, Ros! He thinks. If only I weren’t a demon! If only I hadn’t killed you!

Yet he knows he hadn’t killed her. He couldn’t bring himself to. Lucifer had. Lucifer had controlled the knife.

Lorcan begins to sob. Blindly, he runs. And runs. And runs. He only stops when he heard a cry. He glances around. A small cat is stuck in a tree. Lorcan reaches up and brings it back to safe ground.

There. One good deed.

How many more until he could erase his guilt? The Church of Heart won’t take me in. Even their heart isn’t THAT big. I’ll just have to work on my own. One miracle at a time.

From deep within, perhaps in his heart, he hears her voice: ‘Lorcan, do you denounce Satan?’

Without hesitating, he answers, ‘yes.’

‘Then ask God for forgiveness.’

Lorcan could see her now but her face was hidden. Yet he could still see her lifeless eyes. ‘I can’t. Even He wouldn’t forgive me.’

She sighs and turns away, the vision fading. ‘You mean, you can’t forgive yourself. Ask for His forgiveness. Or else we can never be reunited in Heaven.’

‘Me? In Heaven? I’m a demon!’

‘Demons don’t denounce Satan. If you aren’t a demon, you’re a man.’

‘Ros. Rosaleen. Maybe if I help enough people, I’ll be able to ask for forgiveness.’

‘Please, Lorcan.’

‘Ros, don’t go!’

‘I have to.’

‘Will I see you again?’

‘That is up to you.’

‘I… lo—‘

But she vanishes.

Lorcan wants to scream, to run, to cry. But he notices two boys fighting. Time for another good deed. He isn’t sure how many more he would need but he knows one thing, he would not give up until he is reunited with Ros.

I love you, Rosaleen. I’m just so sorry that I didn’t know it until after I had killed you.

Entry Three:

Lucas Jennings’ bones had been moldering in the ground for countless years. They lay in an unmarked grave on the edge of a meadow, far from civilization. Time passed while he lay undisturbed, countless years spent in peace... until the day everything changed.

The air in the meadow grew heavy with the feeling that something was about to happen. Angry dark clouds filled the sky, blotting out the sun. A cold wind rushed across the meadow, whipping the surrounding trees into a frenzy.

Finally, as the ground around him began to vibrate, Jennings’ bones knit themselves back together. Flesh reappeared, stringy sinew at first, then larger, smoother muscle until a well-proportioned frame lay in the box. Desiccated, paper-thin skin the color of wet ash flowed over the newly formed corpse.

When the reformation was complete, the vibration grew and the ground began to heave violently. Dirt fountained into the air as a simple pine box was thrust to the surface. Lightening streaked across the darkened sky, followed instantly by the deep, angry retort of thunder. The silence that followed swallowed everything and a stillness descended over the meadow. The earth itself seemed to be holding its breath.

Minutes passed before the preternatural silence was broken by a deep boom that resonated through the meadow. The dirt-covered box trembled once again. The second boom created a spider-web of cracks along the lid of the box. The third boom shattered the lid and Lucas Jennings finally emerged.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, aware yet unaware. His face was a death’s mask, the cheeks sunken, the eyes opaque and sightless. His clothing hung in tatters and he was shoeless. He took a few shambling steps away from the shattered box and then stood motionless for several long minutes, listening. The voice came to him from far away; it called him, summoning him to a task. He began to move, shambling, uncoordinated steps at first. When they became steadier, he began to run. He had no idea where he was going or what he was suppose to do, but he would figure it out. He would certainly figure it out.

Entry Four:

Jia polished it until it glittered in the moonlight despite the wispy
clouds, and set it on the curb. She looked over her shoulder once and
withdrew to the tangle of a forsythia. The lure was set.

Dry bark cracked as she pulled the branches aside to peer at the
house. The faint glow around the curtains in the child's room was the
only light until the sun slipped over the horizon to sparkle on the
frosted roof and glint off the windows. A single ray traced down the
lawn to the forsythia. Jia closed her eyes, luxuriating in the sharp
heat. First dawn, first light. What would the new year bring?

When the humans came out, Jia held her breath, her eyes hungry on the
lure. Giant boots and sharp-toed shoes clattered on all sides. The
woman winced at sunlight reflected off a facet, but moved on without
even a glance. Jia scarcely noticed. It wasn't meant for her. The
child trailing behind her looked down, head turning as he passed. Jia
breathed again. The game had begun.

As the day wound on, Jia moved to a brilliant golden mum, needing to
be nearer the lure in the bright afternoon. She plucked a bloom and
idly shredded the petals, surprised at her anxiety. The child had seen
it. He would remember, when darkness fell. The shadows crept past, the
humans' gift from a sun loathe to yield to first night, but the
waiting too was part of the game. Jia felt her current host cough and
cry out, then fade back to his uneasy sleep. She turned her gaze
toward him as though she could see through the houses, a swell of
hunger nearly overcoming her need to stay with the lure. Two years of
failure. He wouldn't survive another. She remembered the long, hungry
times before that, surviving on stolen breath and half-formed dreams,
and her resolve firmed. The world wasn't what it once was, but she
wouldn't admit defeat so easily.

She scratched in the dirt, sketching dreams. Her host's had faded in
the past year, from vivid edges and harsh colors into vague blurs
devoid of sustenance. Three years. He was strong, once. She watched
the lure with renewed hunger.

Evening shadows drifted over the mum, and Jia crouched lower. The
humans returned. A boot caught the lure, spinning it across the
sidewalk. Jia's hands clenched, snapping the branch, and a bud
shriveled in her fist. But a smaller foot took a step to follow the
glittering movement.

"Don't touch that, Michael. You don't know where it's been."

The child didn't move until a hand grasped his and pulled him along.
Jia relaxed, brushing the powdered remnants of the bud from her palms.

Soon, streetlights flickered on and the child returned, his face
hidden by a sharp-edged mask. Others joined him and they hurried off,
not even glancing at the lure when its facets reflected their light
back at them.

The night drew on, Jia's hunger growing with each breath. A foot
half-crushed the lure and sent it skittering away to rest against the
step. In desperation she dared the open, brushing against cape hems
and boots, lapping up what dreams she could. On first night, it was
almost enough.

The child returned with his pack of humans but he lagged behind,
peering into his bag. Jia gave a tiny sigh. He wouldn't see it. She
summoned her courage and darted out, risking a flash of herself. His
gaze seared through her, stealing away what little she had gleaned
from the others. He gasped and stumbled. The bag fell, its contents
scattering across the walk, and Jia was so near him she felt the heat
from his hands and the stir of his breath. She longed to touch him,
but could only draw in the whispers of his dreams.

"Michael? You ok?"

He scooped up the dropped candy. She closed her eyes, hardly daring to
hope, and shivered as his warm hand closed around the lure.

"Yeah. Hey, I saw a fairy!"

Jia silently echoed their laughter as she twined up his legs and
caressed his arms, and rode his sharp breath inside. A fairy. She
laughed again as she triggered the dreams. This one would make a good
host.

So, we have a three way tie.

Do we leave it at that or leave the voting open and hope someone else votes?

What say y'all?

cjh

I don't know... I kinda would've thought that if someone wanted to vote that they should have by now. I can't really say what to do.

Declare it a tie.

lol, we all know why Thunderlord says it should be a tie.

I'm fine with it being a tie.

So, Paloma, howz about you? Are you okay with that?

cjh

Fine with me. People have had plenty of time to vote.