Monday, December 10, 2012

20,000,000 BC - No fucking clue where I was

848

There’s something strange about these orbs. Apart from the obvious, “They’re magical glowing rocks that can tear apart spacetime.” Ever since I started collecting them, I’ve been hearing whispers. Not from the orbs, but from inside myself, as though the orbs have been drawing them out. It was barely noticeable with the first orb, but getting the second has made them clearer.

They’ve been directing me to a certain place. At first, I resisted the compulsion, wanting to focus on finding more orbs. But they were so incessant, that eventually I just gave in. Which is how I ended up in the prehistoric past.

It would be useless to give a geographical location. Any modern locations are meaningless that far back. There were a lot of weird looking plants around the place. And weirder looking insects. Didn’t see any dinosaurs, unfortunately. Were dinosaurs around in 20,000,000 BC? Can’t remember. Not important. I might have been able to give a better explanation, had I not been paying almost exclusive attention to the enormous black pyramid that dominated the landscape.

Thing was huge. Mountain-huge. Thing looked a helluva lot like a gigantic version of the tomb I’d seen in Egypt. As with that tomb, two immense doors barred the entrance. As I approached, they noiselessly opened.

The inside resembled a temple. The evil sort of temple you’d expect out of Indiana Jones rip-offs. A dull green light illuminated the place, and an altar the size of a cruise ship was at the far end. Madly drawn murals covered the walls, depicting monsters and gods. Those murals seemed to draw me to them. Underneath each figure were strange symbols, and even though they weren’t in any human language, I could perfectly read each one. They were labels, naming the being depicted on the walls. Some of the creatures, I recognized from my previous fights. Read their names as I looked over the images.

There was Shub-Niggurath, the Black Goat of the Wood with a Thousand Young, a mass of tentacles, slime, gnashing mouths and goat legs. Then there was Yog-Sothoth, The Lurker at the Threshold, The Key and the Gate, The Beyond One, Opener of the Way, The All-in-One and the One-in-All; he knows the gate, he is the gate, he is the key and guardian of the gate, all of time is within Yog-Sothoth.…

Continued on past the murals. So many other names and beings. Ghatanotha, Thoth, Tsathoggua, Yig, Hastur… as I read more, I felt the throbbing pain in my head, growing by the moment. In a prominent position over the altar was a mural that looked as if it had been painted out of pure madness. It was impossible to discern any meaningful detail from the beast it depicted; looked almost as if someone had tried drawing a 12 dimensional being on a 2D surface using only primitive paints. Its name was Azathoth, the Daemon Satan, the Nuclear Chaos, the Blind Idiot God beyond angled space who dreamed the universe into existence…. He rests on his throne at the center of Chaos, where the whistles of his pipes echo throughout his black halls, and when he wakes his dream shall end and all our worlds will come crashing down.

But there was one other mural, directly beneath Azathoth. Unlike the others, it wasn’t perfectly preserved. Looked like something had deliberately tried to destroy any trace of its existence, tearing into the black stone wall and leaving deep gashes where its image had been. Its name had been struck out, leaving only a few symbols. “Nyar-” was all I could read; the rest was gone.

My headache spiked, and I almost collapsed under the pain. Something was screaming inside me, screaming to be let out, and… and….

I wasn’t alone in the temple. Looked back, and saw these… things… approaching me. They were formless, black and green gelatinous beasts, slithering across the floor toward me, acidic smile dripping off their sides. The pain in my head was growing worse by the moment, until-

“Kneel.” The word came out of my mouth, but it wasn’t my voice that said it. The beasts hesitated, and then slouched into the best bow jello monsters can do. The stone floor beneath me rose, and shaped itself into a throne. I sat down in the throne, and opened my mouth to speak again….

The headache was gone. The moment it left, the throne crumbled from underneath me, back into rocks. The beasts seemed to hesitate, then started charging again. Tried shooting them, but they absorbed the bullets without harm. Warped out of their path, and threw a grenade. The explosion caused them to splatter all over the floors and walls, but they reformed in seconds. Time to flee.

Ran for the door, and warped back to more present times. That was really, really weird. And not entirely all that productive. But the whispers, at least, are quieter now.

I-330

Friday, November 30, 2012

August 1, 1944 - Warsaw, Occupied Poland

335

Finally getting the opportunity to post this.

EAT had warned me that whatever Grendel was planning, it was going to happen on August 1st, 1944. The date the Warsaw Uprising began. With the Soviet army entering Warsaw’s eastern suburbs, the Polish Home Army launched a massive rebellion of nearly 50,000 people inside the city. For 63 days the Germans and Poles fought, as the Soviets stood to the side and watched.

All attempts to stop Grendel prior to that date had failed. It looked like we were going to be trying some last minute heroics.

Reconvened with the Archangel a few miles outside the city. I wanted to take a car, but it kept walking without a word. Never got to make a “Jesus take the wheel!” joke….

We walked down the road in silence. I could see Warsaw ahead, smoke beginning to rise from it as the uprising kicked off. For a moment, I saw the Black Dog in the corner of my eye, but it vanished as I turned my head.

As we got nearer to the city, the road was blocked by German soldiers. They had set up sandbags with machine gun nests and a halftrack right across our path. Several soldiers aimed guns at us, and one shouted in accented Polish, likely assuming by my civilian clothes we were rebels, “Drop your weapons and surrender or we will shoot!”

The Archangel flicked a hand, and the halftrack was flung into the air. Before the soldiers could recover, they began to choke, dying as they struggled to fight against the invisible pressure crushing their throats.

The checkpoint was empty of Germans when we walked through it.

Now into the battlefield. A lot of the streets were empty, completely abandoned as people hid inside to avoid the fighting. I could still hear gunfire erupting from dozens of tiny battles and skirmishes throughout the city. Sometimes I’d see armed Poles with white and red armbands run by. On other streets, German soldiers would see my weaponry and open fire. Those that did never lasted long.

As we got further, nearing where loose borders were gradually forming between Polish and German controlled areas, the fighting became even worse. We turned one corner and walked right into the crossfire between the two armies. The Poles were fighting from behind hastily thrown together barricades, as the Germans fought through the buildings to advance. And walking at the vanguard of those Germans was the Burning Bride.

It had changed since I last saw it. The SS uniform was gone, and instead its body was wreathed in flame. Its hair didn’t just look the color of fire; it was fire. It smiled, and its teeth were like bullets. Each step it took sounded like the thunder of artillery, and its laughter was the staccato of machine gun fire.

The soldiers under its command fought with a savage fire in their eyes. The Poles crumbled against the ferocity of their attack, retreating from their barricades. I saw one man running across the street, trying to lead a group of women and children to the safety of an intact storefront across them. Then I saw a German pull the pin on a grenade, toss it in the air, watched its arc as it went right toward the group….

Warped into the air, grabbed that grenade, and tossed it back. Warped to the group of civilians, and then opened fire on the Germans to cover their escape. As they ran into the building, I followed, keeping the fire off them. Got everyone inside, and sighed in relief. The soldier who had been leading the group took my hand.

“Thank you for saving us!” Then his voice changed into smooth English. “Shall I reward you with a kiss?”

Wait. Red tie. Red eyes. A feeling of constant heat when it touched me. How the hell had I let the Red Cap get so close without realizing it?

I pulled my hand away, just as all the civilians were suddenly ripped apart. Amongst the shower of blood stood the Smiling Man, showing none of the injuries that had been inflicted on it in our last encounter.

Backed up toward the door, but bumped into the Archangel backing up the other way. The Burning Bride was in front of him, slowly advancing. It seemed that with every gunshot or artillery salvo, the flames around the Bride grew even hotter, until you could barely see the shape of a woman in the towering inferno.

The three Fears quickly surrounded us. Tried to keep my eyes open for their first move, but I couldn’t watch all of them at once….

A huge black mass slammed into the Burning Bride, knocking it aside. Never thought I’d be happy to see such a monstrous dog before. The Black Dog growled at the Red Cap and Smiling Man, and then its forehead split open. Growing from the Dog’s head was the Eye.

“Oh, fuck me.” The Red Cap said, moments before the Dog tore the top of its body off with a clawed swing.

The Burning Bride recovered fast, and a wall of fire moved down the street toward us. The Archangel held out its hands, and the wall stalled. The Smiling Man started to move, but I filled its torso with bullets.

“Now what the hell do we do?” I shouted. The Eye look at me, and suddenly I could see the whole city. I could see the path I had to take. It led to a building in the German controlled area. Then I could see inside, where Ernst Damzog was standing in front of a mirror. On the other side of the mirror was the Mother of Snakes, offering its hand to him. And standing in the shadows of the room, watching both of them, was Grendel….

Hurry.” The word echoed in my head as the visions left.

Too much distortion to warp such a long distance directly there. Started running down the street as fast as I could. Some of the Bride’s soldiers moved in my way. Warped to avoid most of their bullets, and returned fire as I ran by. Took a bullet to the thigh, but with adrenaline surging through me I ignored it and kept going. Not sure if I hit any of them, just kept running. Kicked off some debris and turned the corner. German panzer was blocking the street. The machine gun opened fire on me, but I warped around the street to throw its aim off. Jumped on top of it and kept going.

Fire raced along the buildings besides me, until it passed me and formed into the Burning Bride. It raised its arms, and I heard the shrill of dozens of artillery shells falling toward me.

The explosions carpeted the area, the shells detonating too fast for me to avoid them all. Shrapnel hit my left arm, cutting deep into it. Another piece cut across my cheek, just missing my eye. An apartment building near us started to shake, and then collapse from the damage. I warped on top of a falling piece of rubble, jumped off and warped to another, until I had reached the top and could see the street on the other side. Warped back to the ground and continued my sprint.

The Smiling Man appeared in a burst of flower petals. It raised its head to reveal its eyes, but the Black Dog pounced from behind and tore its head off. Then the Red Cap rose out of the ground, and held out a hand. “Why in such a rush, milady….” I dropped a live grenade into the outstretched hand and kept running.

I could see the building ahead, heavily defended by Germans. The Burning Bride appeared amongst them, and they opened fire. Warped past most of the wall of bullets, but got grazed along the collarbone. Tried to shoot my way through their lines, but the soldiers charged at me as though they were berserk, eyes filled with the Bride’s light. Barely avoided being shot more, and got clubbed in the head with the butt of a rifle. The Bride started to move toward me, but the Archangel appeared in its path. Used the chance to slam through the doors into the building.

Started running down its hallways. I could still see the Eye’s map in my mind, guiding me where I needed to go. Ran into the room, and saw the Mother of Snake’s hand reaching out from the mirror. Damzog’s hand was inches away from grasping it…

“You are mine, Ernst Damzog.” The Mother of Snakes said as its hand wrapped around his.

“No.” Grendel’s voice roared through the room. “You are mine!”

Grendel leapt from the darkness and tossed Damzog aside. He grabbed the Mother of Snake’s hand, and pulled it from the mirror. Shards of glass exploded from it as sand flowed out. Grendel was holding the Mother of Snakes off the ground, a hungry grin on his face. He cupped its chin in his hand, and leaned his face toward it. “Scream for me, little god.”

The Mother of Snakes struggled to break free without success. Grendel opened his mouth, with its razor sharp teeth, and bit down on Snake’s flesh. Black shadows erupted from Grendel’s back, and enveloped the Fear. Grendel’s form dissolved into a mass of pulsating shadows surrounding the Mother of Snakes. Time… it felt as if time was unraveling. Wind screamed through the room, nearly throwing me down. But even louder than the wind was Grendel’s laughter.

The wind died down, and the shadows reformed into Grendel’s human shape. But the Mother of Snakes was gone. Couldn’t sense it anywhere.

“What… the fuck just happened?” I said.

Grendel kept laughing. Eventually I got pissed off and decided to shoot him. Aimed my gun, started to pull the trigger….

“Stop.” He said. And when he did… my body stopped. Entirely. I couldn’t move at all. Not even to breath. Grendel paused as if to see if I would do anything, and then resumed laughing.

The roof of the building was torn off. Floating in the sky above us was the Archangel, two black wings coming from its back. The Archangel threw the Burning Bride onto the ground. Most of the Bride’s fire had gone out, with only a tiny flame on its body.

Then the Black Dog and the Eye tore through the door, with the mutilated body of the Smiling Man in the Dog’s teeth. The Red Cap’s blood seeped in through the floorboards, and tried to form into a human. It was having a hard time keeping that shape. It could only say, “We’ve run into… a few difficulties…” before collapsing back into a puddle.

The Black Dog roared and charged at Grendel. He didn’t try to move out of the way. He caught the Dog’s open jaws, stopping the charge. And with a swift motion, he tore off the Black Dogs lower jaw. Then he threw the Dog over his shoulder, into a wall.

The Archangel descended to the floor, and motioned at Grendel. Grendel was lifted into the air; but this time, he didn’t cry out in pain. Instead, he smirked, and broke free from the force holding him up. When he landed on the ground, he dashed over to the Archangel, then grabbed and crushed the gas mask.

The mask crumbled to dust between Grendel’s fingers. “Such a delicious meal. And yet….” He eyed the Archangel greedily. “I’m still so very hungry….”

The Archangel vanished. Grendel looked at the Black Dog and the Eye, and they vanished as well. Grendel chuckled at their flight.

Then he walked over to me. Wanted to run, or just scream, but I couldn’t. “Well, this certainly has been fun.” He forcefully kissed me, and then lightly pushed my immobile body so that it toppled onto the floor. And with a final round of laughter, he and his Fears vanished as well.

The instant Grendel was gone, I could move again. Took in several deep breaths. Tried to stand back up, but all the bullets and shrapnel I’d taken getting there were finally making themselves known, and the pain made it impossible to pull my weight up.

Soldiers started to run into the room. Wouldn’t be able to fight them. I closed my eyes, and reached for the first strand of time I could grab. Got hold of it, and fell into time just as I blacked out.

I-330

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

July 28, 1944 - Chelmno, Occupied Poland

331

The Archangel has to be one of the worst traveling companions I’ve ever had. No conversation. No rest breaks. Whenever I try to stop, it would keep walking, forcing me to warp to catch back up. I’d rather have been stuck with EAT. Evil water monster or not, at least you could talk to it. Or the Red Cap. Mmm, the Red Cap… I wonder if I could convince it to change sides… at least for a night…. Nah, got to keep my head straight. Got stuff to record here.

We walked until we reached Chelmno camp. The place’s appearance was as horrible as its purpose. Located in a forest clearing, with two barracks and two open air ovens. Didn’t see the large numbers of starving prisoners I’d expected. This wasn’t a concentration camp. This was an extermination camp, designed to kill as many people a possible as fast as possible.

The soldiers here wouldn’t get the mercy I’d shown to those on the road. They didn’t deserve the kindness.

Tried to get my mind on other things. Had to focus on stopping Grendel. “They’ve been protecting Damzog,” I said to the Archangel, not really expecting a response. “Think if we kill him, it’ll throw of Grendel’s plans?”

Just had to figure out how to do that. The guards wouldn’t be much of a problem, but the Fears would complicate things.

A ghostly howl descended upon the camp, and I saw the Black Dog slowly approaching the gate. Well, looks like Snakes was right about other Fears going after Damzog. The guards saw it shortly after me, and they opened fire. Which is a reasonable response to seeing a black dog the size of a bus.

Reasonable or not, it didn’t do anything. The dog charged, and tore the gate aside. The guards who were nearby were swatted aside by its huge claws. One tried to run, but the Dog’s mouth closed on him, teeth tearing him in half.

Well that made getting inside much easier. The Archangel and I walked through the gate, mostly ignored by the guards. One did see us, and started to say something, but the Archangel passed a hand over him and he collapsed. I grabbed the submachine gun from his corpse, and followed the Archangel as we walked down the Black Dog’s trail of destruction.

The place was quickly turning into chaos. The Black Dog tore through the barracks, ripping men apart, impervious to any resistance. Hell of a lot of gunfire and shouting as the soldiers there tried to fight against this monster that had appeared.

But Snakes had shown me more than just the Black Dog pursuing Damzog, hadn’t she? Just to make things crazier, in the sky the clouds parted, and a huge Eye appeared. Men screamed at the unnatural sight, and some threw down their guns to flee. Any who ran by me were gunned down.

The Eye’s pupil searched through the camp. For a moment, it paused on me. The stare froze me in place, and I could hear a voice in my head, a booming voice that sounded as if it came from on high.

Murderer. Killer. Monster. You destroy lives without any care beyond yourself. Everywhere you go you leave death and ruin behind you. You feel nothing for the consequences of your actions, only desiring to fulfill your hedonistic urges. You have been consumed by your lust, your gluttony, your bloodthirst, and hide behind your flimsy justifications of heroism. You have sinned, and your sins are deserving of judgement.

Then the Eye looked away, and the voice stopped. Someone else had caught its attention. I followed the gaze, and saw Grendel pulling Damzog toward a truck by an exit. Gotcha.

Ran at them, but the Burning Bride appeared in my path. Several of the guards formed ranks around it, and opened fire at me. These guards were different from the others: they had a strange light in their eyes, and they fought with perfect skill and coordination. I couldn’t move out of cover, even to shoot back. Any guards who ran by the Bride gained that light in their eyes, and joined the fight with that impossible precision.

The Archangel walked forward, and the guards shifted their fire onto it. The bullets passed through without harming it, and the guards closest began to fall over, dead. The Burning Bride unleashed fire at the Archangel, but I didn’t stay to see its effect. With them occupied, I ran by.

Only gained a little distance before the body of a guard flew by me, followed by the Black Dog leaping into my path. Soon as it saw me, it swung a clawed paw toward me. Rolled under it, and then jumped aside before its teeth could close on me. It leapt at me and tried to bite me again, but a red cloth suddenly appeared and wrapped around its mouth, pulling the Dog to the ground.

“My, what big teeth you have.” The Red Cap said as it stepped out from behind the Dog, its hood tightening on the Dog’s mouth.

I let them deal with each other. Grendel and Damzog had gotten into a truck and were driving away. I ran for the other vehicles nearby, but guards were using them to escape in as well. Pushed myself, and barely managed to get past all the Fear screwiness and warp onto one of the moving trucks. Threw the driver out and took the wheel, driving after Grendel.

They were heading into the town proper of Chelmno. Slammed on the accelerator, and gradually started passing the other vehicles.

Just as I wear nearing Grendel’s truck, a cloud of flower petals drifted from the sky toward me. At first, I was confused. Then, I remembered what happened the last time I saw a suspicious random cloud of petals coming at me, and I turned the wheel as hard to the left as I could.

Wasn’t fast enough. The petals tore through the truck like it wasn’t even there. Jumped out the door before I could be ripped apart, and warped into the car behind me. The driver didn’t get the chance to be surprised before more petals sliced his throat open. Warped out of that car into the next truck back. Didn’t waste time then; soon as I appeared inside, I grabbed the wheel and swerved away from the colorful cloud. The driver was screaming in German, but he didn’t try to retake the wheel. Also did a good job of keeping his foot pressed against the accelerator.

Weaved down the road, trying to make up lost ground. Couldn’t avoid all the petals, but I just needed to avoid enough to keep the truck moving. Saw the Chelmno train station coming up ahead; Grendel’s truck was parked outside, and the train was starting to move. The petals hit the trucks right tires, and we started to skid. Held onto the wheel as tightly as I could, trying to keep us going straight. The left wheels were taken out, but we had enough momentum to make it the rest of the way, coming to a stop just in front of the train station. Both the guard and I let out a sigh of relief. And then I shot him. No mercy for this camp.

Got out after I threw aside the body, and ran onto the station’s platform. There was only one person standing there. Looked like a man, wearing an unbound straight jacket, with bright orange hair that covered his eyes, and a smile larger than his face. The colors on him were slightly off; his skin and hair was too bright, more like something drawn from marker than what a human should look like.

Heard about this thing from Lucy. One of the Fears. The Smiling Man.

It held a flower in its hand, which it offered to me. I didn’t pay attention to the flower. I was too busy shooting the Smiling Man through the torso with my submachine gun.

Bright syrupy red blood came out of the bullet holes in it. Didn’t kill it, though. God dammit why do guns never work on these things. The Smiling Man dropped the flower it had been holding, and the petals from it flew at me. They cut up my coat as I dodged, but nothing more. Then it moved its head so that I could see its eyes, and….

I… don’t remember what they looked like. Or really anything that happened. All I remember was feeling like I was falling. Falling into those eyes that I can’t remember….

What I next recall is lying on the ground, my coat was gone, and I was covered in cuts. Nothing very deep or life threatening; I get the impression that the Smiling Man wasn’t trying to kill me quickly. The Archangel was holding the Smiling Man in the air with one hand wrapped around its face. The Archangel squeezed, and the Smiling Man’s face was crushed, bursting into more of that bright blood that dripped down the Archangel’s arm.

The fight with the Burning Bride had left its mark on the Archangel. Its trench coat was singed, and part of its gas mask was gone, showing emptiness where a face should have been.

The Smiling Man was thrown aside, but it soon stood back up. Even with its head crushed, the smile still remained, completely unharmed.

The Archangel waved a hand, and several railway spikes rose from the tracks. Another wave, and the spikes flew at the Smiling Man. They tore it to pieces, tearing through its torso, ripping off an arm, then a leg, impaling its body over and over. Then the Archangel raised its hands, and the roof of the station began to groan. It lowered its hands, and the roof collapsed on the Smiling Man.

Time to focus back on the train. It was already speeding away, quickly moving to the horizon. Couldn’t let it get away. Took a few steps, winced at the pain, and then started running. Once I reached the end of the platform, I jumped, and warped on top of the train.

Landing on the roof of a moving train is a pretty god damn difficult thing to do, let me tell you. Had to catch myself before I fell off. Once I managed to stand up, I started to walk forward along the train cars. And guess who was waiting for me three cars up?

“I thought you’d catch up, Darling.” Grendel said while unholstering a luger pistol. “Let’s make sure to enjoy ourselves.”

He pointed the gun at me, but I warped forward and kicked it out of his hand. It fell off the train, but I warped to catch it, and then warped back on. Fired all its shots into Grendel, and then threw it away. Then Grendel was the one who warped to catch it and warp back to the train. He reloaded the gun and started shooting as I warped around the train cars to dodge the bullets.

Once the gun was out of ammo, I swung at Grendel, but he warped behind me. He tried to kick me, I dodged, punched his face. He punched at me, I warped away. Up and down the train, never staying in one place for more than a few seconds before warping, trying to break our opponent. For a time, it looked like I had the initiative. I warped behind Grendel and struck him in the head. Before he could recover I went on the offensive, punching, kicking, elbowing, until he was at the edge of the train car. Went for a final roundhouse kick to knock him off, but he caught my foot in his hand.

“An impressive display of your abilities, sweetheart. But you still think too much like a human.”

“The hell do you mean by that?”

Someone tapped my shoulder. I looked over, and there was another Grendel. Before I could react, he punched me in the face hard enough to almost throw me off the train. Paused to steady myself, and two Grendels came at me from either side. Warped away, only for a third to appear and hit me in the gut. Tried to counter, but he vanished, only to reappear behind me. Warped away to get distance, but he was already waiting where I warped to. Punched me again, and then backhanded me off the train. Barely managed to warp back on.

“We are masters of the very fabric of time, and yet you keep insisting on thinking in a purely linear fashion.” Grendel said as he walked toward me. “So very sad. You have such potential, but you refuse to grasp it-”

Another me appeared and decked him in the jaw.

I wasn’t thinking much. There wasn’t any planning, or careful coordination of timelines. There was just anger. I warped toward Grendel, any Grendel I could find anywhere along the nearby timeline, and attacked him. I would appear behind him and punch at him, only for another him to appear to block; then another me would kick the newer him aside. And so on and so on, without order or reason, just pure violence directed at one another.

I’ve never warped so much in such a short span of time. And it was becoming clear that I couldn’t keep it up. Each jump took more out of me than the last. Until finally, I reached for time… and couldn’t. I didn’t have the strength to grab it. I barely had the strength to move at all.

Grendel, however, was fine. And he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of my lowered defenses. I was knocked to the ground, and he started brutally kicking me over and over, laughing to himself. When he grew tired of that, he grabbed me by an arm and held me over the edge of the train.

“Well, this certainly has been fun. I’ll admit, I was worried when I first heard you’d arrived here, darling. But this would have been so boring were it not for your interference, and for that, I thank-”

Shut him up with a very well aimed kick.

It took him a while before he responded. “It’s… fortunate that we are no longer human. Otherwise that would have ruined many of the things I plan to do to you once this is over. Goodbye for now, my love.”

And then he threw me off the train.

Couldn’t warp to save myself from the impact. Closed my eyes, and waited for the ground to hit.

Never hit the ground. Instead, I felt myself surrounded by a brilliant light. The light was omnipresent, glowing behind even my closed eyes. And there was a sound. A dull roar, maintaining a constant tone and volume. I listened to the sound, trying to figure out what it was. Then it hit me: it was the sound of screaming. Billions of human voices all screaming in unison.

I opened my eyes, and found myself being held by the Archangel. Instantly threw myself out of its arms, even if it meant landing face first in the mud. We were by the railroad tracks, and I could see the train pulling away. Tried to get up and chase it, but I just couldn’t.

Since then, I’ve regained some of my strength. Enough to make a trip to the 21st century and post this, at least. Now I just need to focus on getting enough of it back to stop Grendel.

I-330

Friday, November 16, 2012

July 23, 1944 - Krakow, Occupied Poland

326

We’d been tracking Grendel as he and the Burning Bride drove Damzog to Krakow. Avoided any direct confrontation; didn’t want to get more of us killed without reason. When they reached Krakow, I took two of the partisans and followed them in, while the rest of the group waited on the edge of the city.

Grendel’s car was parked by a building with German flags prominently on display. Told the partisans to wait while I investigated, and climbed up the wall, positioning myself on a ledge by a window. Peeked inside, and saw Damzog speaking with another man. I cracked open the window a little to listen.

“…decrease in productivity?” I heard the other man say.

“No, Generalgouverneur Frank. The camp is still working at the same rate as before, but the methods that Sturmbannführer Grendel is using, they… lack subtlety. Such excessive violence is making the men uncomfortable. The suicide rate amongst the guards has risen to what it was before we started using gas.”

“That is unfortunate, but it sounds like a problem for the Totenkopfverbände to deal with on its own. I have enough to handle with the Russian invasion and Lwow rebelling. Why come to me with this?”

“I’ve tried speaking with Obergruppenführer Koppe, but was told to deal with the issue myself. I was hoping that I could rely on your support to….”

Their conversation continued on without me paying attention. I felt some kind liquid drip onto my face. Touched it with two fingers, and when I looked at those fingers they were covered in blood. Another drop hit my face, and when I looked up I saw more blood dripping off the roof, raining down onto me. The blood was somehow messing with time, throwing off my senses and nearly making me fall off the ledge.

The blood started to flow off me, not downwards into the ground, but into the air, floating in front of me. As more blood collected, the red mass started to form into a recognizable shape, growing arms, legs, a head, until I was looking at a mass of blood in the shape of a human. The colors of the blood started to change, until it no longer resembled blood, but instead a girl. A girl in a black dress with a red hooded cloak, with brown-red hair and red eyes, floating in front of me.

The first thought in my mind was, of course, “What the fuck,” but I didn’t have the chance to think anything beyond that. The girl grabbed me by the tie, said “Hey beautiful,” and kissed me on the mouth.

That kiss was… absolute bliss. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I stopped caring about anything around me except for that kiss. I wanted, needed more; even if it had lasted forever, it would have never filled the hunger I was feeling.

The girl changed back into blood, and flowed between my lips into me. I didn’t care. I still wanted more of it, eagerly accepting it, feeling the hot blood flow down my throat, spreading warmth and pleasure through my entire body.

The warmth was suddenly cut off, and I was surrounded by cold blackness. There was nothing around me, nothing but the noise of mad pipe players shrieking through the blackness….

Then the darkness was gone, and I was lying on the ground, puking up blood. The blood returned to the form of the girl, who looked rather surprised by what had happened.

“You can’t control her.” I heard Grendel’s voice say. “No more than you could control me.”

Grendel was walking toward us, followed by the Burning Bride. He flashed a smile at me. “I see you’ve met the Red Cap.” The girl… the Red Cap put its arm around Grendel’s and rested its head on his shoulder.

Gunshots rang out, striking Grendel and the Red Cap. The two partisans I’d brought along ran to my side, guns firing. Bullets passed through the Red Cap as though it was liquid, with the wounds quickly closing.

Grendel looked passively at the holes being punched in him and said, “You really should have taken my advice not to get involved.” He waved a hand at the Burning Bride. It pointed a finger at the partisans, and their eyes burst into flames. They screamed and flailed until both stopped moving entirely.

Grendel smirked at the bodies, then began to walk back inside. “Make sure she can’t run away.” He said to the Bride and the Red Cap before leaving.

I really didn’t like the sound of that last order. As soon as Grendel finished speaking, fire streamed from the Bride’s hand toward me. Barely jumped out of the way in time. Started to run down the street, but the Red Cap stepped in my way. It didn’t attack. No, it did far worse. It wrapped its arm around my waist and pressed it’s body against mine. “Won’t you stay here with us?” The sensation of its breath on my face sent wonderful tingles through my body.

Quickly pulled away from it before I could make any decisions I’d later regret. Only managed to run a few more feet before blood rose out of the ground, this time taking the form of a stunningly beautiful man in a black and red suit. It fell upon a knee and took hold of one of my hands, saying “Perhaps this form would please you more, Mistress?”

Well if it was going to ask so nicely NO NO not the time for that! Pulled my hand away, only for it to be grabbed by someone behind me. Looked back and saw the female Red Cap with a sly smile on its face. “Or perhaps you’d like both?”

Oh god I have far too vivid an imagination for my own good. I could feel that heavenly heat radiating from them as they pressed closer, that beautiful, sensual heat….

In a panic I warped out of the city entirely, barely escaping imminent Peril. Found the rest of the partisans and told them we had to get out of there. We moved quickly, and for a while I started to think I was going to get away. And then a wall of fire appeared in front of us.

The Burning Bride stepped through the curtain of flame, coldly regarding us with icy eyes. I aimed my assault rifle at it, pulled the trigger, and… well… my gun basically exploded. The ammunition was cooking off while still in the cartridge, ripping the gun apart and causing bullets to fly off randomly.

I heard more cracks of bullets and suddenly felt pain pierce through my chest. The bullet clips I had inside my coat were cooking off as well, essentially shooting me at point blank. I started throwing the clips out of my coat as fast as I could, trying to get them away from me before more damage could be done. I could hear more cracks as the others’ ammunition also went off, and an explosion when someone’s grenade exploded. Another bullet went through my leg, and a third through my arm. Fell to the ground, unable to stand due to the pain. I think the chest wound had missed my lungs, since I could still breathe, but that didn’t make it any less horrible.

The wall of fire advanced toward us. It split around me, instead consuming the partisans who had been with me. I had to listen to them as they burned to death, unable to move to help them…. The Burning Bride approached me, flames covering its hands. Things were not looking good there. But then, all the fires went out. And standing where the wall of flame had been was the Archangel.

The Bride seemed to quickly determine this has become a lost cause, and vanished. Which left me lying on the ground bleeding, surrounded by a bunch of burnt corpses, with the malevolent physical embodiment of the afterlife watching. Really didn’t feel like much of an improvement there.

The Archangel walked next to me, and stared at me with that gas mask for a long time. That got old pretty soon, so I flipped it off. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you actually going to do something, ya’ bastard?”

It placed a freezing hand on my face, and for a split moment my whole body was wracked with pain. Then it pulled away, and I felt… fine. My leg, arm, chest… I couldn’t feel the bullet wounds. Checked, and saw that the holes were gone. Scars had replaced them.

Once I stood up, the Archangel began to walk away. “Hey!” I shouted at it. “What was that? Have you decided whether or not you’re actually going to help me?”

It paused, glanced back at me, and then resumed walking. Grumbling, I followed it. Why’d I have to get stuck teaming up with the asshole Fear?

I-330

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

July 19, 1944 - Generalgouvernement, Occupied Poland

322

So. Dreams. They can get weird.

German troop movements were making it hard to cover much distance, so the partisans decided to camp out for the night in a barn. I was worried about putting the owners at risk, but they seemed perfectly happy to shelter us from the Germans, even if they could be killed for it. Can’t thank them enough for that.

When I went to sleep, I was back in the desert. Except this time, I wasn’t alone. There was another woman in the desert, with a shaved head, gold eyes, and wearing a form fitting green dress. I would have called her gorgeous, if my instincts weren’t screaming “A FEAR! NO! BAD! AVOID!” at me. The woman smiled, showing two sharp fangs.

“Hello, I-330.” It said. “Welcome to my realm.”

“Who are you?”

“The humans call me the Mother of Snakes.”

“That’s a long name. Could I just call ya Snakes?”

It chuckled, ivory white fangs flashing in the desert’s light. “No.”

“Alright. So whadya want with me?”

“I only wanted to meet you. You are a curious individual; in spite of your nature, your mentality remains remarkably human. Still clinging to your Puritan moral codes, still denying your inner nature with the trappings of civilization. I have been watching you with great amusement. What you have done, what you will do… the hypocrisy of you touting your morality even as you degrade into degeneracy worthy of your progenitor. The cruelties you inflict are delicious. If only you were a human, then I would have offered you the chance to become one of my children.”

Ya know, I’m starting to develop a pet peeve with Fears talking down to me. “Shut up. Not in the mood for this.”

It waved a hand, causing a man sized mirror to appear next to it. In the mirror, I could see the New Jersey docks, with Grendel and his cultists standing guard. “Do you remember this day? How quick you were to label a massacre as a ‘victory for the forces of justice.’” The mirror showed me appearing, Grendel making his exit, then… I can’t call it a fight. Not after seeing it from this perspective. Snakes was right; it was a massacre. The cultists never stood a chance of offering any resistance against me. I gunned down everyone in my way without hesitation. Hesitation? Hell, I was fucking laughing as I did it.

The mirror focused on one of the cultists. He had thrown aside his gun and was trying to run away. I teleported in front of him and blew his brains out. “Poor, poor Derek.” The Mother of Snakes said. “Before you arrived, he had been thinking about his girlfriend. Their relationship had been through some difficulties recently. He wanted to make amends, and was trying to decide what type of flowers he should get her. Because of the CIA’s cover up of the incident, she never found out what happened to him.”

The mirror switched to another cultists. Then another. Then another. Then another. Each time, showing me kill them, each time narrated by the Mother of Snakes. I closed my eyes, but could still see the mirror in my head.

“Stop it stop it stop it stop it!” No matter how loud I shouted, I could still hear its voice telling me about every person I had murdered.

Finally, I opened my eyes and punched through the mirror. The shards of glass tore gashes into my hand, but I couldn’t care. The images had stopped.

“Why did you show me that?” I said.

“To show you the monster you really are. And because I know it won’t stop you. You may promise that you will become better, you may try to become the hero, but you will never veer from the path of destruction. It’s who you are.”

“Let me out.” I whispered. “Make me wake up, or send me away, or whatever. Just let me leave.”

“But I’m not done with you yet. I still want to talk.”

Another mirror appeared, this time showing a familiar scene from history classes. Adolf Hitler stood before masses of people with their right arms extended and roars of “HEIL!” coming from them.

“This is such a wonderful period of time.” Snakes said. “Some archduke gets killed, and the humans spend the next three decades thinking of inventive ways to slaughter each other. It takes scarcely any effort to lift the veil of ideology from them and make them see the monsters they have turned themselves into.”

The image in the mirror changed to that of the SS officer who had been with Grendel. “This is one human who I have been interested in. He will be the next to join my children. It’s a shame about his security.” The image zoomed out, showing Grendel and the Burning Bride walking alongside him. “And of course, I’m not the only one in pursuit of this human.”

Now the mirror showed an eye, somehow seeming both tangible and intangible at the same time, watching the man from the sky. Then it showed a massive black dog with bright red eyes stalking the trio from the shadows, snarling quietly. “Of course, they won’t succeed. He is my prey.”

“So what do you want me to do?” I said. “Help you get to him or something?”

“No. I don’t care what you do here; your sibling rivalry with Grendel isn’t any of my concern.”

Took offense to that sibling part, but tried not to show it. “Why tell me any of this, then?”

“Entertainment. The more you know, the harder it is to hide in your ignorance and put everything into black and white. And without the starkness of your black and white views to protect you, it becomes so much harder for you to deny what you have become.”

The only response I gave to that was a glower. Snakes didn’t seem to care. “And now it time for you to wake up. I will see you again in Warsaw.”

Then I woke up. And the first thing I noticed was fuck my hand is in horrible pain and covered in blood.

I gave the partisans a cheap excuse about cutting my hand on farming equipment, which I’m pretty sure they didn’t buy. Oh well. I asked about the guy who had been with Grendel.

“He’s Ernst Damzog. He runs the Chełmno camp.”

By their tone of voice, I already knew the answer, but I still had to ask. Just to hope that my intuition was wrong. “What type of camp is that?”

“The type where the train rides are only one way.”

Fuck. Grendel, you sure know how to pick friends, don’t you.

“We were planning to kill him when that Grendel and his followers appeared. They’ve been protecting him since.”

“Wait.” I said. “You said followers. Plural. Who did he bring with him?”

“There was that fire woman you saw earlier. There’s another woman, and a man. They’re… Damzog was bad enough, but these people… they’re just monsters.”

Well doesn’t that sound just lovely. Four supernatural beings I have to deal with. Plus three who are stalking the guy my enemies are protecting. And I still haven’t heard anything from the Archangel since the ambush. This is all just starting to sound like a mess.

And usually I’d make some witty comeback here to express confidence in the situation, but no, fuck it all. Not in the mood. Especially since I’ve had to type this whole thing with just my left hand. I’ll report back whenever something happens.

I-330

Sunday, November 11, 2012

July 18, 1944 - Generalgouvernement, Occupied Poland

321

Had a weird dream last night. Not a bad dream, I'm used to stuff like that. This was just... odd. Which is why I bring it up. I was standing in the middle of a huge desert, with rolling sand dunes stretching onto the horizon. I walked around, shouted, fired a gun into the air... nothing happened. And then I woke up.

I've been wandering around the countryside for a while, asking about Grendel. Found a crashed German motorcycle next to a pair of rotting bodies off the road. Didn't take much to get it running, and I've since been using it to get around. It's a lot slower than warping, but it's less of a headache than trying to untangle the era's mess of time. And I like the image: riding down the empty road, suit and trench coat on, assault rifle on my back, hair streaming in the wind. It's not the best way to blend in, but why the hell not.

I've seen a lot of nasty things here. More in the past few days than I usually do in several weeks. I've driven by the leftover battles from the German invasion, with rusty burnt out tanks partially torn apart for salvage. There have been entire towns empty of people, the only signs of its inhabitants being blood stains and bullet holes. Whenever I went too far east, I could hear the sound of Russian artillery. I've spoken with a lot of refugees. Terrified people, caught between the German occupiers and Soviet invaders. I tried helping them out, giving any food or water I was carrying (inadvertently introducing energy bars several decades early,) but it quickly became clear that I couldn't help everyone. What the hell am I supposed to do? Singlehandedly fight off the Wehrmacht and the Red Army, rebuild every destroyed home, magically resurrect everyone who died? If I could, I would. I would fucking do it in an instant. But... I can't. God dammit, I can't.

When I stopped in one town and saw several corpses hanging from the gallows in the square, something inside me snapped. What's the point? People are being slaughtered here, for what? Because they want to change a few fucking lines on the map? The Nazis have less than a year left, and the Soviets only last until '91, and then the only thing all their fucking borders will have accomplished is creating a mountain of bodies.

Someone approached me as I stood there. He wore a black SS uniform, and looked far more well-fed than any German soldiers I'd seen so far. I took an instant dislike to him.

Like most other soldiers who had approached me, he wanted to who I was and why I thought I could get away with openly carrying around a gun. I threw on the mask of a smile, and answered with, "Oh, well, you see, I was on my way to a gay gypsy Bar-Mitzvah for the disabled when I suddenly thought, gosh! The Third Reich's a bit rubbish. I think I'll kill the Führer. Who's with me?"
Then I used his slack jawed speechlessness as an opportunity to punch him in the face.

Yeah, yeah, I know, that was stupid and rash. But that was the closest thing to justice I could give these people. And I'd really, really been looking for the chance to use that quote ever since I came here.

Of course, such actions have consequences, and soon I was running back to my motorcycle as what I swear was every German for 20 miles chased after me. Fun stuff.

Raced down some pretty rough roads while being chased by trucks carrying German soldiers. I suppose I could have just warped away, but I dunno, I'd grown attached to my motorcycle, and I'd never attempted to warp while carrying something as big as that with me before....

Turned a corner, and nearly flipped over the motorcycle when I tried stopping it. A black open roofed car was blocking the road ahead, with three people dressed in SS uniforms inside. The first, standing up in the car with his peaked hat at an angle and far more buttons undone that regulation should have allowed, was Grendel.

"Hello honey." He said. "I was very surprised to hear news of you stopping by. Have the water bags been passing you gossip? You really shouldn't listen to them. They'll only lead you astray."

The second person in the car was a woman, which automatically struck me as odd. I'm fairly sure the SS wasn't known for its gender equal hiring practices. She had orange-red hair that seemed to flow with a life of its own, and a look of complete disinterest on her face as she looked off into the trees flanking the road. Felt almost like a Fear: it was the same feeling as I'd get from a Fear, but not as strong. Guessing this was the Burning Bride. The third was an older man, who felt like a human and who I didn’t recognize at all. Boring.

I shot Grendel through the head just as my pursuers came around the turn and unloaded from their trucks. I think the only thing that stopped them from shooting me was surprise at the laughter coming from the man with a hole in his head. Their surprise turned to horror as his face reformed, leaving no trace of the injury. “You would do well not to interfere here.” He said. “I’m sure you’ll find more happiness in massacring cultists then in failing to stop me.”

I was preparing to shoot another round through his face when the Burning Bride suddenly stood up and focused on part of the forest. Grendel stopped speaking to follow its gaze, just as a streak of light came from the forest and hit one of the trucks behind me. Loud bang, followed by hot shrapnel flying through the air and soldiers screaming in pain as they were cut apart. Rifle shots rang out from the trees, cutting down more soldiers. They returned fire, but there was no way to tell if they were hitting anyone beyond the tree cover.

Another rocket went toward Grendel’s car. The Bride stepped in its path, and it exploded while still in flight. The flames of the explosion flowed around the Bride, keeping the car unharmed. Grendel jumped out of the car and walked toward the trees, ignoring the bullets going through him. Then he warped into the forest, and the gunshots were replaced by drawn out screams of pain. I warped after him, catching up just as he was tearing the rib cage out of a man. Several other men in civilian clothing were nearby, ineffectually firing on Grendel. I threw a grenade at Grendel, which tore away part of his body. He healed quickly, but I used that brief time to get between him and the other fighters. I thought I might have been able to stop him, but realistically, my bullets weren’t any more effective than any other. Grendel rapidly walked toward me, his usual grin on his face. I stepped backward to keep distance, and tripped over a root. Before I fell, Grendel warped ahead and grabbed my arm. That left my gun pointed right at his chest, so I held down the trigger until I’d emptied the clip. Didn’t even phase his smile. Not until shrapnel from a grenade tore half of his face off, leaving only shadow and a bright red eye, at least.

Grendel raised his other hand as if to strike me, but hesitated as his eyes looked at something behind me. I craned my neck around to look, and saw a soldier standing amongst the trees, watching us. Wasn’t a German; I didn’t recognize the uniform. Looked more like something out of 1916 than the 40s. The soldier wore a tattered brown trench coat over its uniform, and a gas mask over its face.

Didn’t feel like a human. Felt like the Archangel. Grendel let go and started to walk away very quickly, but the Archangel appeared in front of him. Grendel snarled and swung a fist at the gas mask, but froze just before he hit. He yelped, actually yelped, in surprise, and was lifted into the air by an invisible force. The Archangel silently watched as Grendel’s arms were raised into a cross, and his legs locked together. His skin began to tear itself open, revealing the darkness underneath. That darkness seemed to be boiling, twisting and ripping, until Grendel began to growl in pain.

Suddenly, fire engulfed the Archangel, and Grendel fell back onto the ground. The Burning Bride had entered the forest, fire lapping at its feet. Grendel ran to the Bride, and the two ran back to their car. The Archangel only watched, making no attempt to pursue.

As they left, I gave a grudging “Thanks,” to the Archangel. Which it responded to by ignoring me, stepping away, and vanishing. So much for that teamwork EAT had been talking about.

With everything finally calming down, it was time to find out who had started that ambush. They were already pulling out of the area as I began following them, but it wasn’t so hard to catch up. Teleportation rocks.

Running up to a group of armed men is a quick way to get a lot of guns aimed at you, but they remembered me from the ambush. And shooting people in SS uniforms is a great way to make friends with Poles. Talked with them as best I could; they’re a group of partisans who have been operating in the area. They jumped to the assumption that I’m some kind of American special agent, which is a fiction I’m not going to try to dispel. Grendel doesn’t seem very popular amongst them, so they’re willing to tell me anything I need to know once we get someplace safe.

Awesome. Progress at last.

I-330

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

July 11, 1944 - Generalgouvernement, Occupied Poland

314

Since it looks like I’m going to be here for a while, guess I’ll stop by the 21st century periodically and provide updates.

After the language difficulties I had in Japan, I decided to pick up a bit of German and Polish prior to heading out. Just some basic phrases, such as “Where’s the bathroom,” and “Have you seen a murderous time traveler with glowing red eyes anywhere around?”

The problem was, despite the rather straightforward instructions EAT gave me (Kick Grendel’s ass is about as straightforward you can get), it’s surprisingly hard to figure out what exactly I’m supposed to do. I’d assumed it would be a simple case of following his presence, kicking down the door, and shooting him in the face, but that’s ending up not to be the case. Why? Because apparently every single type of temporal distortion that there ever was decided to hang out around 1936-45.

Seriously, I have no idea what the hell is going on with WWII, but time is screwed up here. The timelines are such a mess that even the distortions caused by Grendel look tame. Rather than jumping in and kicking ass, I'm finding myself having to investigate. Again.

Those investigations haven't been the most successful. Might be my fault; having a hard figuring out ways to phrase my questions so I don't sound insane. During my last attempt, I was stopping at a small town by Warsaw. Place looked like a mess. Something about refugees, and artillery, and the Red Army being just across the river to the east. A lot of empty houses, a lot of tension amongst the remaining inhabitants. The few people still living there weren't unfriendly, but they were suspicious. Don' think they knew what to do with me; I can't say I was exactly period appropriate. Plus there's the heavy American accent, which is never a good thing to have when stopping by Nazi territory. Still, the people did answer my questions, even if those answers were usually "I don't know."

As I was doing my interviews, rumors started to be passed around that German troops were coming to the village.All-fuckin'-right! Nazi killin' time.

Positioned myself on the main road through the town and armed myself. Mid-20th century tech, time to meet half a century of destructive inventiveness.

Soon I saw people approaching down the road. Got ready to fight as they came closer, and then...I hesitated. There was something wrong with the image. I'd seen the movies. I knew what the Wehrmacht was supposed to be. Legions of stone faced killing machines with blond hair and blue eyes, goose stepping in unison as they march toward world domination....

These... they were kids. Most were younger than I am. They weren't marching like an unstoppable horde. Some were riding half-tracks or trucks, most were sludging down the road on foot. No trimmed and clean Hollywood uniforms here: their clothes were stitched, dirty, and ragged. Nor were they the perfect specimens of Aryan physique; I had to wonder when the last time some of them had eaten a decent meal was. And even as they joked with each other like the kids they were, there was an air of hopelessness pervading them.

I stood to the side as they passed me. Got several odd looks from them. In any other situation, I suspect the plethora of firearms I had may have invited violent response, but the audacity of me standing right next to them must have been too surprising for them to react. I wish they had started shooting me; I’d have been able to shoot back without having to think about it. I know these are the bad guys. I know what their regime did. I just hadn't expected them to be... you know, people.

Snapped out of my mini-daze when an officer stepped away from the column to confront me about who I was and why I was so heavily armed. He was wearing a pair of glasses, and the way the light hit them, I could see my reflection. Except it wasn't my reflection, I realized. It was the silhouette of some other woman, offering a hand to me, as if she could reach out of the reflection....

The officer repeated his questions, and several soldiers came over. One reached for my gun, and in a panic, I warped several miles away.

I'm going to keep looking for Grendel. That's why I'm here. It's just...

Whatever. I still have a job to do. I won't let this impede me.

I-330