Message #101930

[Destroyer Behemoth]

Day One, August Seventh, Noon

This morning, as I pack, I noticed the empty journal on my desk. I write this on my last noon at home, as I will be leaving. I don’t know what the outcome of this journey will be, but one thing is for sure – it must all be documented. And I have chosen this journal to write down everything. Everything. If ever some fool fired an EMP that affected the whole planet, this journal’s words would remain, unlike the vocals of recordings or videos or captain’s logs.

I had this dream several nights ago, I don’t know why I want to log it, but I believe it has had some influence on what has been decided…

“I’m in a tunnel, surrounded by the stone walls. They trap me in a system of rock that only goes two ways. Left or right? That’s the human conflict. Do you choose the left path, or will you walk right? My hand touches the cold rock. Strangely, it’s soft, like tissue. My hand forms a tight fist, and I launch it at the barrier directly in front of me.

“I’ve done it. I’ve forgotten the left and the right, and dive forward, where all our lives go. My fist breaks through the rock as if it were air. It nearly passes right through it, but the hole has been made. Now, in front of me, is darkness. I don’t know what lies behind its curtain, but it’s the only real path I can find. I’m headed forward, whether I die or not.�

So, can I go forward with this upcoming journey? I want to defy the traditions and standards set by humanity, and create something… amazing. That’s why I’m locking up the truth from you, whoever you are, reading this. I won’t tell you where I’m going, directly what I am planning, and all such things. At the end you’ll figure it all out. They say a good author hooks their readers, leaves them with questions, sets them up for something – and that’s exactly what I’m doing. You figure it out, and if the end to this gets lost or never comes… Your loss, I suppose.

Now I’m going out to the train, I just need to pack one more thing…



Day One, August Seventh, 3:34 PM

I’m on a train that is crossing one of the many trans-Atlantic bridges, specifically to France. I like trains – they ride at a nice pace over a large distance, and let you relax. Planes these days are so fast that you’re pretty much barfing the entire way. And they smell horrible too, even without the vomit.

A man – Flerion Jaint was the name he claimed to have – is whom I’m off to meet. It was really a factor of the classic ‘wrong number’ situation. I put in the incorrect area code for a call I wished to make, and ended up getting this French man instead of the co-worker I was actually trying to call. This all happened yesterday, I believe, just after I bought my train ticket. I had tried to hang up, but Jaint wouldn’t let me. He was smarter than that.

I eventually spilled out my story to him, and what I planned to do, after he described to me who he was. I actually believed he might be able to assist me, and would make a valuable companion. He said he was an expert engineer, as well as a ‘thaumaturge’. Haha, I had laughed when he said the latter! But I liked the engineer part; I’ll just need proof that he’s the mighty sorcerer he says he is.

My research on the undergrounds of Europe and Asia has utterly failed me. The information is apparently private, and I had tried everything I could for days. I’ve been mapping out how I want the next few days to go, and I’ll have to head underground to get it started. If I have no information, I’ll have to break in.

While, yes, I do have Jaint to accompany me, he advised me that I find another companion. And so far, this mini-quest of mine was failing. I’m rejected before any information is even given to the person I decide to inquire about this to. What kinds of people use that logic?

Ah, but as I thought the above thought I felt that I had found my person. Her usual seat was opposite me, but she chose to hang out with her friends a few cars away. Today, she came by after being chastised by the conductor. She was beautiful: Full-length, wavy, light brown hair, dark eyes, a wonderfully shaped face, and a good physique.

I look up from my laptop, where I was doing some extra research. She was looking directly at me, her dark eyes wide with curiosity. Her arms were folded on the metal table that divides us. “Can I… help you?� I asked her.

“Oh, no,� she answered with a chuckle. “I was just wondering what you were doing.�

“Research,� I responded bluntly.

“Then I guess it wouldn’t hurt me to ask what you’re doing research on,� she said, leaning forward slightly.

“It’s rather to-� I had started to say something, but then rethought my words. I looked her over, and noticed something that could prove useful to me. And no, it wasn’t just because I liked her. “I mean, I’ll let you know – but I have a proposal for you first.�

“Name it.�

And so I offered her the position, giving her the information. And she was actually interesting. She listened to me, and asked good questions. She was… perfect.

The last thing she said before she left for a quick restroom break was her name – Less Hort.