Thursday, February 26, 2015

So

This is what we've come to.

Boys, we don't need to fight. I'm a changed man, these days--I am willing to let you live. I suppose that some would consider that a sign that the flesh-lairs I've taken over the years have eroded me--left tiny pieces of their original personae in my mind, even as I've mostly crowded them out. Even after all these centuries I don't know myself. But I have softened. Just as you have in the last few days, I think I've grown sick of fighting.

Initially I wasn't sure why exactly the Shiqquwts revoked the mystic charge of the fuschium pendant they gave me just before I returned to Earth-Alpha. But, in the body of my current host, I was able to determine that this Earth is a very special Earth. Maybe it's even the Earth that my former Master dreamed of, when he looked for a pure host. I think it's relatively safe for me to conclude that Earth-Gamma is in fact the Paradise Earth. A world as close to the "real life" that so many people through this Multiverse of ours imagine. Free from monsters, heroes, and villains. "Normal."

Which is why I'm confused as to how you four came into being.

As I've said, this body of mine has very particular senses and powers. (Including the ability to eventually recharge my fuschium crystal!) And I sense that you four had some rather strange and fascinating births.

As everyone knows, ghosts are the spirits left behind after we die--well, usually. (If someone were to, say, burrow into one's body, and keep it alive, but simply displace the soul within--to my knowledge, that would result in a person simply being completely destroyed. They would die an absolute death. Which is terribly funny.) But what if there were spirits that existed before we were born? Emissaries from the Spirit World, who entered the body before birth, rather than leaving it after death? Some say these inverse ghosts do exist, and they give fantastic powers to those that they enter. I've done some etymological work and found out that the earliest definition of "ghost" simply means "rage." Isn't that interesting? I suppose, then, that inverse ghosts would be...happy? And the Latin word for "joy" is Gaudium. Let's call these spirits--and by default, those who possess them--Gauds. Remarkably similar to the word gods, of course--and I truly believe, perhaps against my better judgment, that Gauds may someday become young gods. I've seen these entities in action through scrying before. Earth-Delta's Amos Berkley, the oft-referred "Manos," was a Gaud, and he was responsible for quite a bit of havoc.

I think you four must be Gauds, to have lived this long in such incredible circumstances.

Why am I telling you all this? Well. I figured I should give you a headstart. A fighting chance. Because let's face it--you may be the "New O'Grady Mob," but you don't exactly measure up to the Old one. And I do like myself a challenge. After 500+ years of existence (I think that's right), my lives have gotten a little boring. I should stay in practice when you and I go to Earth-Alpha and take over the Multiverse. I hope you don't mind if I take all the credit when that happens, though. I am the First Enemy, after all!

And the body I have now is not one of a Gaud. Trust me, I respect myself a lot more than that.

What I have is the body of a sort of God of Monsters. One intrinsically bound up in your childhoods--in a couple of ways. After all, why do you think I'm typing in Marcel's color? It's not just because I like the sight of blood.

Of course, Marcel Vecchio isn't my only new name. If you feel nostalgic, you can also call me Terry. We're one and the same.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

The War

We've gotten decently used to fighting in the last few days.

I think deep down all of us knew that we would have to fight like this someday. We grew up with the stories of heroes, and at least A.S. and Garry believed that we'd slowly start to fit the mold. So now, we're taking handguns stolen from the shop in town and using them to kill--who exactly? Townspeople we've known all our lives? Imports from other Earths? (Probably Earth-13151518, since that was where Tamaron was before. He could have kept a few people alive from the nuclear waste and whatnot. Unless they're mutants under those robes.)

We have a couple of cars collected. Don't worry--we've only taken them from the cultists. Guns are more understandable to steal, because we're not fans of them. If there were other ways to fight them we would take them.

Everyone in town seems to be gone. I know there was a curfew put down, but there are never any people caught in the crossfire. The police haven't tried to take anyone on either side. But given the encounter in the hospital--I think we may have cut down the town's police force. I don't know how I feel about that.

We're currently camped out at an abandoned gas station. I don't care if they know where we are now. At this point, honestly, we're getting sort of heated. I think we want Tamaron himself to engage us directly. Like we can just shoot him or something. Or we have a death wish. I don't know.

Monday, February 9, 2015

Explanation

I know what you're all thinking. What I did was unspeakably wrong. I should not have resorted to such open violence.

But these people have killed our families. They have maimed Amos, and they were perfectly okay with butchering him in his hospital bed. They murdered Marcel and Frank. They will stop at nothing to hunt down and kill us and all of our allies. We know that Edward Tamaron is still alive, and if it somehow enabled him to accomplish his goals he would disembowel and eat a baby.

I would not have done that if I had not completely confirmed that these guys were Abbey members. We have talked and agreed--I will never do that again. But I felt I needed to send a warning to Tamaron. Satan knows he's sent enough to us. Let's see how he reacts when he takes a loss.

Vengeance is never the answer. War is never the answer. But I will not sit idly by and watch my friends be executed. So I'm going to deliberately give the wrong answer, and I don't want anyone out there to admire me for it. Seriously. The four of us are about to become killers.

We discussed it, and--the four of us have a new banner to rally under. A.S. is the brains (the "crippled genius," he calls himself), and we're his three hands in a street war against the Abbey of Serpentis.

Call us the motherfucking New O'Grady Mob. Garry's name.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Listen to this.

"Police were called to the scene of an unusual crime in Alberta today when the seven owners of the Laundromat with No Name, a long-established business, were found brutally slain in front of the ruins of their store. The wreckage of a white automobile was found having been driven through the glass storefront, and at least two of the Laundromat owners were consequently pinned under the car.

"The remaining five were then shot to death at close range by a handgun, presumably wielded by the driver. The police have issued a comment saying that attempts to track the killer based on the bullets recovered from the victims' bodies have been unsuccessful. They advise Alberta citizens to stay in their homes for the duration of the emergency.

"Curiously, the seven owners were found clad in black robes of a religious kind. Currently it is believed that the killer placed the victims in these robes, though there are several contradictions to the possibility of such an act."

I saw the crime scene. They were right. The killers laid where they fell after being gunned down, and the guys under the car already had their robes on.

Goddamnit, Derek.