The Monstrous Mutt

It's a bit late to be posting, but sleep isn't going to happen for a while now, with what Jessica's got going on in the other room. Lots of screaming. Lots of pop music. Spending any amount of time with this woman makes trips to the mall an entirely different experience. Right now, she is utterly transforming that song, I don't know who it's by, the one about being 'happy'...? Ah, doesn't matter.

Truthfully I don't mind. I haven't been asked to spectate, so I've got some free time while she finishes up her gruesome work. And I'm choosing to utilize that free time to finally get around to something I've promised all of you(and myself) that I would do for ages. Yeah, that's right, Bradley's Journal Entries are finally back. Now that things are back to what passes for normal for our operation, I want to get to the bottom of this thing. 

(Normal isn't quite accurate, though, right now. Things are very rocky between Jessica and our boys. I don't know if anything will come of it, though, as she's always managed to knock them back into line before. Even without Andre, she's someone to be feared and listened to, trust me.)

Since there's a lot of material and I want to get primarily to the meat of what young Brad left behind in this notebook, I've sliced and diced the thing into one neat page or two that tells the story. There's some commentary from Jess that I've left in there where it's relevant, and I have a few notes of my own...but, ah, the bulk of my own questions, I'll just leave at the bottom of this post. Maybe this strange blogging community you all have built can help me piece together some answers.

May 29th, 2011

The kid is acting up. She's scared, she tells us, of some dog* that comes scratching at her window at night. Says it growls and shit. Fuck if I know what it means. This job is a pretty relaxed one, so I'm just grateful for that much. We might even get this kid, I'll call her Evelyn, back to her parents if we're real lucky. I've heard the stories, about what that monster, Carter, has guys like us do to the ones she doesn't feel like returning...sick shit that makes that "party" Marc and I went to look tame.

*[Part of the next paragraph is obscured by a drawing, which I think was done by Jess, of a massive, vicious looking hound. In her typical scrawling handwriting, 'NICE DOGGY' is written above it.]

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 June 15th, 2011

...

Gavin has gotten real, real quiet. Like fuckin scary quiet. He looks like ghosts talk to him at night or some shit, I dunno. When I bring it up, he won't say whats bothering him, just to leave it alone. That he's thinking about it, that hes working it out on his own, whatever 'it' is. My guess? It's got to do with his girl. The chick with the red eyes that comes and stands around outside. I swear to god, if I ever get my hands on that woman, I'mgonna bash her head in... but I've never gotten my hands on her. Every time I go out there, she vanishes. Just starts walking away, and moves so fast I can't get her. One time Thomas had a talk with her. He managed to get her on the corner, but he said all she said was that our place used to be her childhood home. Freaky bitch.

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[Not sure of the date on this one. Bradley didn't bother to write one in. I don't think it was more than a week after the one above, though.]

...

We finally get Gavin talking, and this is the shit he has to say? Some weird-ass crap about a giant, monster dog?* I don't know what to think right now. I feel like I'm losing my mind, or maybe I already have, but either way Gavin clearly lost his a long time ago. I'm still trying to make sense of it.

*What a pretty, pretty puppy.....it's fur would ruin my lovely coat, it's so sticky with blood and tar, hehehehehehe....

Basically, according to Gavin, there's a big, Black Dog that hunts and kills people who keep secrets. He says it smells 'em on you and goes looking, and when it finds you it waits for you to either tell someone yoursecrets or drives you insane and tears you to pieces. Or something like that, anyway. Says it's been stalking him for a whole year, and he only just started thinking about how he's totally screwed. That ex-girlfriend of his, the one with the red eyes, Gavin swears up and down that that's this dog in another form. He wants us to try to lure Carter into its path, and try to bump her off that way...which would be an alright plan, I guess, if this thing were actually fucking real.

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June 27th, 2011

i fucking saw the fucking dog. It's real.

That's as far as I've dared to venture. There's only one line to the entry from June 27th, and that's it. I haven't read any further because, quite frankly, that one was enough to put me off of the things almost for good. But it's finally getting to me, I suppose, now that I have time to think harder about what I've read... ah, I started reading some of your other blogs. You folks write about monsters quite frequently, and not just the kind that I thought were real, like Jessica. You all deal with them like appliances you have to use every day, like a toaster or a microwave oven. Horrifying, freakish microwave ovens. So I thought, maybe you could help me. What is this thing Gavin describes? Is it real, or am I falling for a very elaborate prank? More importantly, if it is real, how the hell do I avoid it?

Thanks for the help. Maybe. Ah, well.

-Mr. Flint.

Chasing Monsters

Ah, home, sweet home. 

No, really, I mean it. This blog doesn't mean much to me. But the circumstances that allow me to use it mean that things are peaceful, and peaceful is a luxury I don't know I'll have for a while.

Oh, yes, so the whole kidnapping debacle. I was getting to that. You can't fault an old man for taking his time when he has some of it, can you? No you cannot. Fuckers.

You're all pretty aware of the details at this point. I'll be honest, there's not much more to tell. David's post about it gave away most of the details. Jessica, Andre and I had been... well, ah, you can't exactly call what Andre and Jess had been doing 'taking care' of little Emily. There were quite a great deal of scars on that girl before she left this place, though I did my best to treat them and keep them from becoming infected or anything else. But I couldn't shield her, not really. 

So it was a miserable affair for the most part, although I have to be honest; Jessica throwing a loud, raucous, almost-normal party except for the over-abundance of 'Kesha' "music" was refreshing. No dismemberment at all, you guys! What an achievement. 

I told Andre he was too burned up about that kid shooting him in the foot. You can always tell when a guy is too stuck on something. When it's going to burn him, before long. Not really any mystical mumbo-jumbo to it, they just act reckless or, at best, different. Andre was acting different. And I told him he'd get fucked, but he didn't listen to me, said it wasn't bothering him so bad. 

Emily's bruises say otherwise.

Emily's wheelchair, I reckon, says otherwise.

When the whole thing went down, I was standing around, just sort of watching. That's really my job, when you get right down to it. Well, it was. With Andre dead, it's going to be a lot harder on poor ol' me. But that's beside the point.

I watched as Andre chased after the girl. As Jessica took off like a bat out of hell after David to see what he was up to. And then Emily went down. Andre had shot her, and that was that. One of David's people retaliated by taking him down, shooting his legs out from under him and shooting his hands to make sure he couldn't effectively use a gun. For a tiny thing, that one has good aim.

They tried to move poor Emily, and that's when she screamed, and that's when David and Jessica came running back. I have never seen Jessica Carter look as...small...as she did when she came back inside. David really did a number on her, there. But then he saw what Andre had done to his little girl. And whatever beast has been looming inside of that man, chained to a wall...well, it broke free. He tore into Andre with a knife in ways I've never seen before except from Jessica. Only more graceful. And when he was done, as Jess alluded to in her last post, he drowned the poor bastard in blood running out of his own wrist by pressing it to his mouth. 

So much for the toughest damn hitman I've ever known.

David and Jessica exchanged a few words, and then he left, and then she and I left. Weirdly, we ended up going for ice cream. I've never seen her eat ice cream before.

Things are a bit dicey with us now. Jessica's crusade has cost us a lot of money and manpower, and even her loyal followers are questioning her judgement. And with Andre gone, well, ah, she really only has me to help keep them in line. Dunno how long that'll last. Not to mention that detective on our trail. Determined, he is. Oh well.

That's all for me right now, I think. Condolences to ya, Emily, for what happened to your legs. That's a real damn shame. David, heads up, I doubt if Jessica will be bothering you much from now on. To the rest of you...ah, I don't know. Good to be back, I suppose. 

-Mr. Flint

Oh, and P.S. to David: Jessica made me promise to post this song for you the next time I write anything. So, here you go.

Wreck

David came to see me.

He did, like I knew he would, but not like I knew he would at all. Bastard. Fucker. Bitch. Loser. Moron. Fuck him. No don't do that it's no fun. Sex isn't fun. 

hehehehehehehe

I thought he was weak. But I knew better. my David, he's never weak, not in the slightesttttttttt

He killed Andre. Beautiful, beautiful blood, drowning in it, that's what it was. He drowned Andre in his own blood. There was so much and we all watched and I was SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AT LAST. I hadn't seen him before. He was hiding. No, not hiding.....there's a word for it maybe but I don't know.

I lost him. He's gone. He took his little cut of meat and he left. I won't get him back now. I know that.

Emily. I'm sorry.

David... my love.

Andre...you were delicious.

~Jessica

COM E AND GET ME HONEY, I'M ALL YOUR'S! LOVE YOU LOTS!