To break the pattern I’ve developed over the last couple of entries, I’m going to start off with another murder, instead of talking about the new member The 757 has acquired.
Jamie Garrison…a small framed girl from the more…decrepit…parts of the city.
She was basically white trash. And she had the attitude to match.
Didn’t care for her, at all. We hardly talked.
I do remember one thing about her: though she resided in a section with people who had hardly any money at all, she somehow always had snacks and stuff with her.
She stole these items; she compulsively stole shit from people.
Well, it would almost seem that that kind of life was her downfall; she had been walking back home from the new Walmart in Midtown back to her neighborhood with almost fifty dollars in stolen merchandise when she was, reportedly, pushed into the street, and into the path of a car. Ironically, she might have survived the collision, if she had not been pushed into the sharp knife she had stolen while at the store.
Why the hell would someone carry a bare knife on their person like that? -_____-
I swear, Portsmouth is made up of idiots.
And it’s the town I’m trying to save, too… .____.
Maybe this town deserves to perish, sorta like Sodom and Gomorrah in the Bible, or whatever.
Oh, yeah. So, my best friend Keil is now a part of The 757.
Was a bit hard, convincing him to join, but he eventually caved, like he always does.
I drove over to his house and picked him up to check out a car that he had been eyeing on Craiglist; some car out in Suffolk. So, we had a long drive ahead of us (from Norfolk to Suffolk; he moved to Norfolk from Ptown after his mother won custody over him during the Summer) so it was easy to properly initiate the conversation on the supernatural and the such.
After about a twenty minutes of driving, I asked him if he remembered the one story he told me a year or so ago; about the creepy experience he suffered through in Church one day.
He said he did remember; good, made everything easier.
See, about a year ago, Keil confided in me a…very strange story.
He had gone to church with his girlfriend (who would die a few weeks later in a car crash, but we’ll discuss that later). Keil is not the Church kind of guy, at all, but he was polite enough to sit still…until he saw the man a few pews away from him.
The man was a bearded gentleman, with long brown hair, and a scraggly brown beard to accompany the hair. A prominent facial structure hid beneath the hair…he almost looked like a caveman. And, though he can’t exactly recall what the clothes actually were, he remembers feeling that the clothes the man was wearing just didn’t fit into the modern Church image, of dress shirts and khakis, or dress pants.
The man was staring at Keil, with piercing eyes that saw through everything. And the man didn’t stop staring, the entire service, at Keil, no matter how uncomfortable Keil started to look and act. And soon, the service had ended, but the man still stared at him, from between the now clustering groups of people leaving the rows of pews.
There was a lunch…or dinner, or some kind of get together after the service, I think; I don’t exactly remember the story all too well. Anyways, after the service, and at this celebration, Keil sought after the Man, whom he had lost while walking in the crowds.
He saw this man in a corner; the man smiled at Keil, and started walking away.
Not knowing exactly what he was doing, Keil followed the man into the hallway, and continued to follow the man…
Until his girlfriend stopped him, and asked him what he was doing. He looked away only for a few seconds, and lost track of the man. He somehow got her to wait a while longer, and continued his pursuit down the hallway he was heading down.
But it was a dead end. Nothing was there. No man. No one.
He had disappeared.
I don’t think I need to explain who that man resembled (the popular version of what Jesus is portrayed now as looking like in popular media).
That may have been a big misunderstanding; maybe the man had changed his mind and had simply taken a different path before Keil had turned his head around.
But it was still the jumping board I needed to explain everything that had happened to me.
I told him about everything Steven and I went through.
I told him about Anna's death.
I told him about The Showdown on the Churchland Bridge.
And, like Andrew, he started to say that I was a crazy sonofabitch (but in a less violent way; he simply joked on me, calling me crazy and loony and stuff like that).
But then I called him out on that. I could call his Jesus story bullshit too. A few weeks after that, his girlfriend died in a car accident….the Jesus story really put things in perspective for him afterwards. He didn’t care….he said about me calling him out on that, but I knew that the story meant a lot to him.
I couldn’t take it. I had to have Keil on The 757. I had to let him know that I wasn’t crazy.
So, I pulled over, and quickly placed my hand on his forehead.
He then began to understand everything.
I don’t know how I did it,…or why I did it. It just popped into my head…I think it might have just been the left over traces of Grey’s residual energy let inside of my body.
Or maybe Grey and I truly ARE blood brothers; connected until the end.
Keil saw everything I saw, including Eldritch!Grey.
He…started to tear up and scream in pain too, but he had to go through what I had gone through. After about ten seconds, I let my hand slide off his head; I felt exhausted.
Keil immediately said he’d join after that.
He’s a smart dude…he knows what’s up.
He knows about The Cancer in this town now…
If we let The Dying Man completely control this city, we’re as good as dead.
We’d become food for Grey. Or maybe, I won’t be that lucky.
I’m scared to think what Grey will be doing to MY body,
And my soul.
We’re meeting at Keil’s house tomorrow…the entirety of The 757…
Wish us luck…