Edward's+Journal

Dear Journal,

I was day-dreaming at Mass this morning about my dream again. The same one I've been having for weeks. Every time it goes down the same, futile path. Each of us play our same parts, like actors in a drama. I wonder if dreams are God's own little theatre. Such a strange dream it is, and my childhood friends and I have all grown up. I wonder if the look like that in person? That would be immensely strange. Part of me thinks I should ask the priest about it, since the ancient people in the Bible had strange dreams, but he already thinks I'm too liberal and a bit strange.

Entry 1: (before last session)

Arianne has been training us forever, it seems. I'm starting to wonder if things are really as bad as she fears. I guess my cat confirms her story as well, but this really seems like much ado about nothing. Perhaps not, I guess only time will tell.

It's been a while since the death of our driver. I guess I should probably talk to Neila about that. It's easy to forget sometimes how sensitive her sex really is. I guess he's pretty good at putting on a tough front most of the time. I kinda like that about her. I hope I can get her to understand why this had to happen this way. And God, I'm actually right and it wasn't all in vain.

Entry 2:

Well, I guess I've lost my friends. It's amazing how fast it all happened. I mean, at one moment I'm prepping Cormac's rifle in the room, and the next moment everyone else had started fighting outside. I'm not really quite sure what Cormac's ruse was, but I guess whatever it was, it didn't work. Anyways, I hope they're still alive. I mean, if I could escape on my own, they probably had no problem, right? Anyways I'm safe here at Claine for now and they're going to send some soldiers to look for my friends.

The soldiers here soldiers here might be a little gruff, but the seem to have a genuine sense of duty for their countrymen. It's admirable. I wish I could stay here longer, but I still haven't found a way to make the "Please take care of me, I'm being chased by demonic monsters" plea make much sense.

Entry 3:

Stephen's dead. How weird is that? Of all the people I know I would have thought him the strongest. I guess I now even less than I thought I did about the threat we're facing. It seems to me that mere strength isn't going to help us much. At least I have Clovis. One thing I'd really like to know is how they found us at the farmstead. If it takes them 3 weeks to find us in the middle of nowhere, then if we stay away from civilization, moving every fortnight, we might be able to escape their grasp. I've never lived out in the wild before. I wonder if it's like the people you hear in stories, fighting wolves and eating raw meat. Hopefully we can raid plenty of goods from the stores in Claine tonight. Raw meat sounds rather strange and I don't really trust Cormac's ability to hunt anything more crafty than a dead log.

Entry 4:

Clovis is becomming more and more helpful. Whether this is because he has decided that being helpful will achieve his aims more, or because I was too dull to notice how useful he was earlier, I'm not sure. What I am sure is that it is not because of any manner of grace, but that's quite fine. After all, he may be a maladjusted ghost of some form, but he's my maladjusted ghost. Is curious how so many failings in character seem much better when we possess them ourselves.

Cormac's reaction to this all greatly amuses me. It seems to trouble him that he is not the only contemptible humbug in the room, and now he greatly desires to have his own maladjusted cat-ghost. It seems rather important that we make sure this doesn't happen, it just wouldn't be safe.

Entry 5:

We'll, we're out on our own again. In Maynooth nonetheless. I can't help but feel that this is a bad idea. If Neila and Cormac keep pushing us to keep walking around while we're still injured like this, we're going to get in trouble sooner or later. I don't know what their end game is, but it seems to me that at this current circumstance we are entirely outmatched by anything we might be up against. Cormac seems to have it in his mind that he's some sort of self-styled martyr and I, as if his story was already cursed by fortune herself; and Neila, well I imagine she'll just go along with whatever Cormac wants. She might know how to stick up for herself among bullies, but not among friends.

I don't know what plans these two ultimately have. I doubt they really know what they're doing, but as soon if things go south, I'm out of here. It's not like I can do much anyways, I never was a fighter. I'm not going to be part of Cormac's tragedy if that's what he's set on. Clovis and I can take care of each other if needed.

Anyways, these guys keep arguing about what they're going to do next, but there's a perfectly fine bed here, perhaps they'll still be arguing when I wake up. Ahhh, my bones hurt.