Been a while since I opened this up. A spare notebook, the kind I use to scribble notes on the job. Not often stuff’s so messed up I’m compelled to write. Chalk up the increasing entries to my growing madness.

When I first found that book… first switched… I wrote then, to help hold my mind together. But… there was a thrill. To be suddenly young again. To feel… overwhelmed by vitality and energy. I didn’t want to be consumed.

I’ve switched more since. Not much more. I didn’t want to be those people. Who do I want to be though? Myself? Each new body I take, I give up a part of myself. What’s left of me, besides a pathetic clinging to life? I need to find that. Something about me worth transcending mortality itself. A purpose. I… may have found it. But… let me back up. Odd that I, an immortal, are immortalizing memories. But, even memories fade… but as long as I don’t fade, I guess that’s okay.

I’m rambling now. Anyway:

Life was more or less back to normal. I was finally back out of that stripper’s body. I’d gotten comfortable with msyelf, and that kind of body is the last thing I’d subject myself to. Okay, there are worse fessels, but that one… not exactly inconspicuous. Mages already found out about me. I stuck my neck in vampire territory: no pun intended. And now, I’ve got the blood of italian mobsters on my hands. Dammit, rambling like an old man again. What a laugh. Aspects of ate you can’t avoid, I suppose.

So: about the mobsters. Turns out some water was thickening, and whatever was causing it isn’t normal. And abnormal investigations is my secret specialty. It certainly nabbed me immortality. I’d say it was time well spent on that career! ‘Cause now, time holds no meaning.

Anyway, we had no leads. Normally, we’d triangulate how far its spread and find the origin, but that probably had been checked. And I had an idea: what if this was some kind of twisted infection, coming from the outside in, only then becoming the disease? First stop, the neighboring port to look for suspicious behavior. And boy, did we find it.

The boat we boarded was full of the italian mob. Hate to gloss over the action, but it was a mess. But we got out. Along with freeing a bunch of slaves.

At the time, they were meathsields aiding in my escape. In retrospect though, I feel like a hero. I need that. That’s what I needed: a purpose to continue to exist. Maybe foiling evil, doing good outside mortal boundaries is it.

At any rate, its way too early, but I feel my new life’s already already been compromised. No matter. Things are in motion to get me a new identity soon…

Return to table of contents


Schism of the Gods Among Men shaybryder