My Thoughts #6

Well, that's it. I'm not sure what he was up to between that last entry and when he gave the notebook to me. He was looking normal enough when he gave me the notebook. But.

I don't think I'm going to do any more research into this. Matt went crazy, end of story. I don't need to know anything besides that. I'm out.

June 1, 2012

Moments of lucidity come less and less. I don't think I can write anymore. I'm going to find someplace to store this, someplace to hide it, where the shepherd will not find it. I need to find some way of putting it out there, some way of offering warning.

There's a rubik's cube in my backpack. I don't know everything the shepherd knows, but I know the cube must be delivered. I know I must offer others to the Cube. I must lead others to the Unanswerable Question. It's too late for me.

Entry #z

I have shown my loyalty, offered proof of my conviction, and removed all that stood before me and it.

I have been given duty, I have been made strong. No rest for the wicked, but I am not wicked. I am the shepherd.

Entry #y

It taught me how to beg, how to scream, how to offer myself as a worthless offering and be reborn as a shepherd. It showed me how the pieces fell together and how they fall apart.

The eyes are a weakness. Fingers alone can claw them open, pry them to eternal sight and then eternal darkness with a plunge of thumbs into squishy jelly

squish

squish

lop, both are gone, obliterated with a moment's attention.

A thin blade can sever the cords, break the weak spots, shatter the strength, leave him with no leg to stand on. No leg. It is a joke, you see?

And then the throat, so much blood pumping through the neck, and the skin so soft, so tender, so sweet beneath tongue and lip and teeth. Tear it out like a savage or cut it like a civilized man, the blood flows all the same. The blood is my offering!

Abel offered blood and God rebuked Cain! Cain offered blood and God rebuked Cain!

He was Cain, older brother, betrayer, denier of our God's true vision. I am Abel and I am shepherd and he is sheep.

Entry #x

Her blood is blood rich and steaming and bright in the sun. Her lips are crushed velvet as I pin her down and hear her scream. He took from me, I take from him, and balance is restored, but the sweetness of the taking is so bright and sharp and it sings from the night.

March 4, 2012

My head hurts all the time. Can't sleep, can barely eat. If I try to stomach more than a few bites, I vomit it up almost immediately. I see the cube everywhere. I know it's not real. It can't be real. It changes even as I see it. It spins along some axis, fourth-dimensional, and it changes what it shows me.

I keep up with my classes. Barely. Barely.

I don't want to do this anymore.

My Thoughts #5

I'm not sure what's up with that last entry. All of the rest of them have dates, for this one he just scrawled “THE UNANSWERABLE QUESTION” like that, in all caps, and covered up nearly half of a page. The rest of the page was just the word why repeated over and over again.

I drove down to campus today, managed to talk with some of the orientation counselors. I was only able to find one that knew Greg, but according to him, he just up and left last semester. I don't know what's up with that, but I don't think I should dig too much.