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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal</id>
  <title>Ghost</title>
  <subtitle>The hunt has begun</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>ghostsjournal</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2009-01-24T12:01:35Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="8335359" username="ghostsjournal" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:13973</id>
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    <title>Alive</title>
    <published>2009-01-24T12:01:35Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-24T12:01:35Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The thin rod of metal, shaped into a point comes nearer and nearer. I try to move, I try to get away, but my restraints keeps me in place, forcing me to wait for the inevitable pain. I know it will come, as it has done so many times before. It&amp;rsquo;s simply a matter of time.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;ldquo;Just say the word, and it will all end&amp;rdquo; the dark, melodious voice utters the same words, I must&amp;rsquo;ve heard them a thousand times now, like warm liquid, pouring into my ears. I keep silent. Not one syllable will pass my lips. I close my eyes and wait for him to finish it.&lt;br /&gt;The pain is instant, like fire consuming my body in seconds, and white light burst in violent flares behind my eyelids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I screamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat up, staring out into the darkness of the room, the faint echo of my voice quickly fading, until silence reigned once more. I covered my eyes, looking into the scarred palms of my hands, while concentrating on steadying my breath and calming my racing heart. &lt;br /&gt;More than a year has passed since Markus had taken his life, and Grae had stepped through the doorway, into the torture chamber, walking through the monster&amp;rsquo;s ashes, taking me away from my prison. &lt;br /&gt;He had saved my life.&lt;br /&gt;More than a year has passed, and I&amp;rsquo;ve moved on, I even moved to another country, started a new life, more or less. &lt;br /&gt;My departure had been abrupt, and without warning, and I had gone without any of the people I hold so close to my heart. Maeve, the closest thing to a best friend I&amp;rsquo;ve ever had, has moved with Bee to the north of Denmark, helping her out at her farm. &lt;br /&gt;Shelly, a witch, and possibly the oddest person I&amp;rsquo;ve ever met is still in the capital, working her craft, checking up on Maeve and Bee from time to time, visiting them at the farm.&lt;br /&gt;Even though I left without telling them, I still do my best to keep the contact. Even though neither Maeve nor Bee uses email, I keep in touch with them both through Shelly who&amp;rsquo;ll bring my printed out letters to the others. They&amp;rsquo;re all doing ok, but Maeve&amp;rsquo;s struggling to cope with my absence. He&amp;rsquo;s followed my every move for so long that he has to fight to find his own identity. &lt;br /&gt;I can&amp;rsquo;t help him, or choose not to, I honestly don&amp;lsquo;t know. It is his fight, not mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have plenty of battles to win, myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mansion around me was quiet, except for the occasional distant footstep from the staff. I estimated the time to be around midday, but I couldn&amp;rsquo;t be certain until I checked my wristwatch. The massive metal plates, painted to look like pretty landscapes, covers the windows in the day and keeps out all light. &lt;br /&gt;The Count&amp;rsquo;s home is an impressive example of wealth and masterly done architecture. It&amp;rsquo;s turrets and towers gives the castle a threatening silhouette in the night, and a fairytale like quality in the day. Not that Simeon has ever seen it during the day. The vampires of the Northern Region Coven in Bulgaria, has,&amp;nbsp; like all vampires, &amp;ldquo;sun-allergies&amp;rdquo; as they so elegantly put it. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;ldquo;Like all vampires&amp;rdquo;, that&amp;rsquo;s not exactly the complete truth. I walk in the sunlight that is so deadly to them. But am I not a vampire myself, isn&amp;rsquo;t Grae? Maybe we are, maybe we aren&amp;rsquo;t. We feed, we move and we heal like them. We have all their strengths and none of their weaknesses. At least that&amp;rsquo;s how Simeon put it. &lt;br /&gt;I haven&amp;rsquo;t told him of my &amp;ldquo;siblings&amp;rdquo; Grae and Mist. It&amp;rsquo;s not that I mistrust Simeon, but even in the most loyal of courts, there is gossip. And gossip spreads. I do not wish to bring more light on my blood relatives than there already is. We&amp;rsquo;re all turning into being a precious commodity. Too many wants a taste of the power and possibilities a daywalking vampire can bring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;rsquo;m in Simeon&amp;rsquo;s court now, experiencing for the first time in my short existence, how it feels like to be one of many. True, I&amp;rsquo;m not the same as they, but it&amp;rsquo;s so close, that I can pretend to be as them, and there&amp;rsquo;s no need to hide my abilities, my strength, all the things that makes me who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;I&amp;rsquo;ve been here for almost a year. So much time has passed. But even though time can heal so many wounds, the scars still shine bright in my memory, disturbing my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I caught movement out of the corner of my eye as a slender arm moved closer to me beneath the midnight blue silk sheets. I sat still as a hand gently stroked my back. Sherin leaned her head against my right shoulder blade, not stopping her caress &amp;ldquo;Nightmares again? You&amp;rsquo;ll wake the whole castle one day&amp;rdquo; &lt;br /&gt;I laughed turning my head to glance down at her face behind me &amp;ldquo;Not likely, I don&amp;rsquo;t think the vamps would even wake, should the world decide to go under during daytime. Besides, you exaggerate. I don&amp;rsquo;t see your brother waking &amp;rdquo; Sherin turned her attention from my back to my hair, running her fingers through the white curls of it &amp;ldquo;He sleeps deeper than the dead. Come now, you need to sleep&amp;rdquo; She pulled on my shoulder until I leaned back, settling myself between her and Skyler, so she could rest her cheek against my shoulder, her breath caressing my collarbone.&lt;br /&gt;The twins had been Simeon&amp;rsquo;s way of presenting me with a welcoming gift, assuring me that they were familiar with the vampire customs. I&amp;rsquo;m not that familiar with receiving or giving gifts, but I&amp;rsquo;m quite sure that giving away people is not on the top 10 gift list. If it should be on any list, I believe it more likely to be on the top 10 of human rights violations.&lt;br /&gt;I stayed awake, listening to her breath becoming deeper and slower as she drifted off into sleep. I gently moved her off me, got out of bed, dressed silently and left the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hallway was quiet except for the distant echo of the servants doing their daily chores. My bare feet made no sound on the black marble tiles that made up most of the floors of Simeon Lazar&amp;rsquo;s mansion.&lt;br /&gt;I made my way down the corridors, careful not to meet any of the household. My destination, the library, was placed in the western wing of the building. &lt;br /&gt;I don&amp;rsquo;t fear the Count&amp;rsquo;s human servants, but I unnerve them. Gossip travels faster than disease, and in this place it&amp;rsquo;s no different. Everyone with ears now knows about my&amp;hellip; talents, and fears them. Of course most like to believe, that even if I can read minds, I can&amp;rsquo;t read theirs. No, not their thoughts. The Count&amp;rsquo;s ghost can only read weak minds. I let them believe that. It makes things simpler. But bumping into them is still not the most pleasant experience, with their scared glances and racing thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;I reached my destination and entered. I chose a random book from the nearest shelf, and sank down into one of the enormous, comfortable, leather armchairs, a smile gracing my lips.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:13425</id>
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    <title>the end</title>
    <published>2007-04-30T13:40:51Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-30T13:40:51Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style=""&gt;I desperately wanted to sleep, but a hammering sound kept me awake. It insisted on beating consciousness into my aching head. I looked up and saw a towering figure. I couldn’t see clearly, my sight obscured by the bright fluorescent lights in the ceiling above him. The hammering stopped. It dawned on me that it had had to be the stranger walking back and forward on the hard floor. I lost interest for my unknown visitor and relaxed, almost enjoying the cold tiles against my skin.&lt;br /&gt; ”HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY MAD?!” the words shattered my precious sense of calm and made me look up at the source of the voice. For a second I thought that the accusations were directed at me, until I realized that Markus was in the room as well. I hadn’t seen him, my attention caught elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt; “You cannot keep doing this! Have you finally lost those last precious pieces of your humanity?” the stranger was angry, but there was something more than just anger in his voice. I tried to get a proper look at him, though it wasn’t easy. He had moved now and the light no longer radiated behind him like a halo. He was tall, perhaps taller than Markus. He had blond hair, and looked a bit too thin, compared to his broad shoulders. His clothes looked like a uniform. My head hurt from trying to concentrate long enough on him, I stopped caring and closed my eyes. There was no reason to why I should remember this man, even if it sounded like he wanted to help me. No one could help me now; Markus was too clever to let me slip from his hands again.&lt;br /&gt; They argued more, the stranger trying to reason with my capturer, and Markus being cold and defensive.&lt;br /&gt; There was a loud slap. Perhaps one hit the other, I don’t know. A few more words were exchanged and then the stranger left. I knew this because I recognized the sound of his shoes. Markus followed shortly after, turning off the light behind him. I greeted the darkness and silence with open arms. I could finally sleep.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style=""&gt;For some reason I got a break. Markus left me alone for at least a day, I think it was far more than that, but by then I had a lot of difficulties with the concept of time. Darkness was constant, nothing happened and Markus did not come to see me. All I could do was sleep, and think. &lt;br /&gt; Perhaps I was losing my mind? &lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Or was it just my brain getting bored as I saw people from my life so vividly in the dark? They were so real, so bright, too bright in fact. The only tell tale sign that told me they were not actually there. How was I able to see them when there was no light? I think I laughed, or perhaps that only happened inside my head as well.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style=""&gt;Markus came to me one more time. I cannot tell you all, as I do not know what happened after I lost consciousness, but I do remember this.&lt;br /&gt; The light was turned on. After days of being in perfect darkness, it almost made me scream as the brightness dug its way through my eyelids. The door closed behind him. Even as I felt the dulling fear wash over me, I registered the soft click as the electronic lock slid into place.&lt;br /&gt; I was used to the procedure by now. He readied his tools while I sat there waiting. He always took his time, making sure that everything was clean and in order before starting.&lt;br /&gt; As I had waited in the dark for him those days, my wounds had had time to heal. My eyes where no longer forced shut by swelling, and now that the light was back on, I could see Markus’s “work” had affected my surroundings. Clean, what a joke. Nothing was clean anymore, nothing, but those tools in their little tray.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style=""&gt;He finished his preparations and turned to look at me. Defiantly I stared back at him, trying to scream all my hatred at him without uttering a single word. He looked tired, spent, as if he had not had a single day of sleep since his last visit. I felt a small surge of pleasure. Stupid really, not sleeping was dust compared to what he had done, and would most likely do again to me.&lt;br /&gt; He sat down in front of me, studying me for a moment, then looked at my arm, still held in the same position by the chains. He produced a syringe, drugging me as usual. Not that it was really that necessary. My body was drained from energy and even as I sat there, staring at him, wanting to rip his heart out, I could barely lift my free arm.&lt;br /&gt; He unlocked the metal cuff around my wrist, freeing me from my chains. I had no feeling left in my hand as it fell to the ground like a lump of meat, I couldn’t help feeling very detached from it as my knuckles smashed to the floor. I was still staring at it when his voice sounded close to my ear. &lt;br /&gt; “Let us stop pretending, shall we. This game is over, my dear Benjamin” I had an urge to ask him when had it ever been a game. But spiteful words never escaped my lips, being replaced by a scream. I struggled to breathe in knowing that the air would just be used on yet another scream, but it was difficult with the pain burning in chest. With lazy movements I tried to feel the source of the pain, looking down, my pain mixing with horror as I saw sharp metal protruding from the right side of my chest. I think I looked up at him in wide eyed disbelief. He circled me slowly, talking about his pain compared to mine, saying that I could never fathom the torment I inflicted upon him by refusing his affection. I wasn’t really listening, and he noticed. The second stab was slow. He forced it in and I felt my body giving way for the metal as it inched itself through soft tissue.&lt;br /&gt; I passed out. It was easy enough to give in to the darkness that was like a sanctuary. However, I was not allowed to stay there for long. The smell of fresh blood brought me back into the light. He hadn’t wasted the time while I was out, making sure that the cuts were just right, achieving as much agony as he could. The thing which had brought me back from oblivion however, felt horribly familiar. Only the hilt was still visible as the rest of it was preventing my left lung from breathing in any air. &lt;br /&gt; "Why won't you understand?!" his voice seemed strangely fearful.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;He kneeled down in front of me as I struggled to get up. I don’t know why I looked at him… maybe it was to beg him to just end it, or to let me go. His stained hands gently caressed my face "I ... Why can't you just ..." he sounded tired… he was begging me.&lt;br /&gt; Markus sighed, grabbed the hilt of the metal inside me and pulled it out so fast I felt like my insides followed it. I could feel my lung filling up, but it wasn’t air that poured into it. I was drowning.&lt;br /&gt; "I ... c... brea...e" I grabbed at thin air. He moved away from me, standing up.&lt;br /&gt; "Why can't you just let go? &lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Benjamin ... please!" He was yelling at me.&lt;br /&gt; "I cannot keep doing this ... Why won't you ... WHY?! Why do you torment me like this?" Even as I laid there, struggling to breathe, I couldn’t help but wondering how twisted he had to be to blame what was happening on me. &lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He was shouting again, but not at me. There was someone else outside the door. But I didn’t care. Nothing really mattered anymore… I knew I was dying. The only thing I wished for was that it would happen sooner, that he would stop prolonging it like this.&lt;br /&gt; Markus turned his attention to me once again, at least I think so. I think I said something…&lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Markus just looked at me "You really never will let me in, will you?" he mumbled as he took something from the table.&lt;br /&gt; I had managed to get up on my knees, not because I wanted to fight him, or beg, but because I wanted to him to finish it. Perhaps he would see this as a final attempt at rebellion and just kill me. He looked at me "This is your last chance ... stop doing this. Just say the word, and this will be over ..."&lt;br /&gt; “..there is nothing to say” I whispered “I... h-hate you... with every fiber of... my being” &lt;br /&gt;He sighed, pointing something at me “Very well, I won't let you go alone” was all he said as I heard the soft click of the gun.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:13215</id>
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    <title>All the cards on the table</title>
    <published>2007-04-25T13:23:38Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-25T13:25:43Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;”It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” his face was bathed in the colorful light from the fireworks exploding above us.&lt;br /&gt; “Very!” I couldn’t find the words to describe my fascination with the magic that unfolded above us. All I could do was stand behind Maeve and stare into the sky, taking in this new experience. It was hard to understand that bombs and rockets could be used for something like this. The sound did however remind me that even with their entire splendor, they were still weapons.&lt;br style="" /&gt; &lt;br style="" /&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I had spent most of the day and evening outside, away from Maeve and Bee, going over what the fortune teller had said to me. &lt;br /&gt; At first I was surprised to see who she was. I had seen her before, at the harbor one night long ago where I had met with Grae. She had just passed us, but she had politely, if a bit odd, commented on what a beautiful night it was that night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;She had taken one look at me before asking me to follow her through her shop, through the backroom and into her home. It had been an odd visit; she knew things about me before I had a chance to tell her, and this convinced me to listen to what she had to say. She had warned me, told me that shadows of the recent past still hung over me, threatening to swallow me completely. I had questioned her words and she had answered that “he was still out there, that he would return and that he would come looking for me” she had asked me if I knew of whom she was speaking. I simply replied with a nod.&lt;br /&gt; I had left her shop with a greater worry than when I came, not feeling any sort of the calm that Bee had told me of.&lt;br /&gt; I joined Maeve close to midnight, keeping my promise of entering the new year together, even if I did not fully understand the importance of it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;As we stood there on the hill, I could see the outline of the statue of the small fish girl that visitors to the country seemed to love. She seemed lonely, sitting there on her stone, looking out over the black waters of the harbor. I felt grateful in the knowledge that Maeve was there with me, his joy and excitement coloring my own state of mind.&lt;br /&gt; As everyone started to count down the last seconds of the year, he took a few steps forward pointing as a giant rocket shot into the air, exploding in a shower of gold. I took in the beauty of the scene when I felt a minute stab in my neck. I was about to ask Maeve why the lights suddenly seemed to dim when the darkness embraced me. I did not exist for the next few hours.&lt;br /&gt; I woke slowly not entirely sure of my surroundings, no doubt I could blame that on the drug-induced sleep. Perhaps I had been awake before, but I couldn’t recall. It didn’t take me long to realize that I was chained to the bed I was in. Had I thought it important I’d taken the time to enjoy the room, but my sense of danger was screaming at me to get loose, to get away. I got up as far as the chains permitted me to and started pulling. Nothing happened. I think I fought with my shackles for hours, taking breaks to let my still drug-affected body gain some strength. During this fight for freedom I discovered that the chains were not fastened to the bed as I initially thought, but to the wall behind it. I should have known. Mere wood could not have been able to hold me.&lt;br /&gt; When it finally dawned on me that I would not be able to get free by myself I started to scream, both cries of help, obscenities and insults. I did not know who I was yelling for or at but I felt that it was better than doing nothing at all.&lt;br /&gt; Hours past, but I’m not sure as to how many. Eventually I grew tired, and I gave up on fighting the chains and screaming at nothing.&lt;br /&gt; This was when my “host” decided to reveal himself to me. I can’t say that I was completely shocked when Markus walked into the room, still I felt the rush of the initial surprise, followed by anger and, I must admit, fear.&lt;br /&gt; He was carrying a tray with a glass and a bottle, my guess is that it was blood. He was acting the polite host, coming to offer his guest breakfast. I felt and urge to laugh. He looked just like the last time I saw him, except now he was without jacket and tie, his shirt not buttoned up all the way. He seemed relaxed and composed.&lt;br /&gt; “&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Why are you keeping me here?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;” I yelled at him. It seemed the only thing to do at the time. He did not answer but just walked calmly around the bed and placed the tray on the small table beside me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Benjamin. How are you doing? I hope you did get a few hours of sleep between the wailing?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I simply answered him with a sneer. He looked at me with an almost amused expression “Benjamin! Was that a growl?” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I gave him the same reply, watching him closely.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Are you hungry?” he was as calm as ever, the perfect image of self control.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No” I replied reluctantly. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, I’ll leave it here just the same. Don’t worry, I did not drug the food” he laughed “I promise you, you’ll know if I want to drug you” He looked around the room, apparently checking that everything was as it should be.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m having a guest over tonight, so I won’t be keeping you company. Hopefully you’ll be able to manage”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chose not to answer him, and watched as he left the room, closing the door behind him. I could hear the key turn in the lock, and then he was gone.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;He returned the next night.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;"You still haven't eaten anything?" he looked disappointed. Even though it was completely pointless, I felt a small sense of victory.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt; I had spent the day fighting the chains, but had not succeeded in breaking them. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and I involuntarily moved back.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, it is undrinkable now, I will have to throw it out and find you a fresh supply" he said looking at the glass of cold blood.&lt;br /&gt; I looked away &lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;"I refuse to drink, or eat anything you offer me" &lt;br /&gt; "Benjamin. I wish you no harm..." he began in that wonderful voice.&lt;br /&gt; "Then why are you keeping me here?! Like this?!!" I looked at him. Had I been loose I think I’d ripped his head off. He leaned closer, speaking in a softer tone "Benjamin... please"&lt;br /&gt; "DON'T CALL ME THAT!! You have NO right to call me by that name! You're not my friend!!" my voice was breaking but I didn’t care "How could you betray me like that?! Do something like that!! I... I thought you were my friend!" I leaned forward, tearing at the chains, trying to rip him apart "I was dying, Markus! Don't you understand that?!! I was DYING!!" I was breathing heavily. Then I realized that right then and there, my strength was not enough. I felt like giving up "I didn't survive because of you. If it hadn't been for Maeve and Grae, I'd been dead... you'd succeeded in killing me... Do you really expect me to forgive you? You have no right to ask anything of me" I leaned back against the headboard of the bed. He just looked at me, studying me. I’m not even sure that he heard what I said.&lt;br /&gt; He rose to pick up the blankets when I saw a minute chance of getting away. He was close to me, too close, and I launched at him, trying to finally use my claws for something good.&lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;But my chains gave me away. I only managed to scratch his arm.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt; He turned and grabbed me by the throat, pressing me down. An insane expression lit up his eyes as he held a syringe above me with his free hand.&lt;br /&gt; "Remember how I told you; you would know if I would drug you? This is it!" he growled at me through clenched teeth and stabbed me. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fought him with all my might, but it was a futile fight. The sedative was already spreading through my body and the darkness that almost felt like an old friend by now returned to me like a blanket of led.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                    &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The next time I woke up I was in a room quite different from the previous one. There were no windows and only a single metal door. The room made me think of Inside. But it seemed more like a nightmare vision than my old home. The walls were white tiles, dirty with a rusty red substance spattered across their glossy surface. The ceiling was not high above making me think that I was in a basement of some kind.&lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;There was no real furniture in there. A metal cabinet stood close to the door, a small tray-like table on wheels stood close to it. In the center of the cell, for that was what it was, stood a long thin table. All these items were reminiscent of hospital appliances. The place smelled of death and decay. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was alone, naked, and once again chained to the wall, only this time there was no soft bed or clean sheets. The chain was so short that I couldn’t take down my arm, making it fell numb and heavy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know how long I was alone down there. One time I woke up to a tray with a bowl of blood, but he had not woken me. I think I was there for several days. How many however is hard to say as it’s difficult to count the days when there’s no window to tell you when day becomes night.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was slowly starting to feel like he had abandoned me when the electronic lock in the door made a soft click and he stepped inside, letting the thick door close behind him.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His face was an expressionless mask as he went to the cabinet.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let me go…” I tried. A useless plea to someone like him, but what else could I do? He said nothing, ignoring me as he began to take out various metal objects. I can’t name any of them, as I didn’t recognize them, but they all looked sharp and painful. They made ringing sounds as he placed them on the tray.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could feel the panic rising as I sat there, helpless, left to watch him, to wait for him.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minutes felt like hours as I sat there until it seemed he was finally done, turning his attention to me. He was holding a long thin item wrapped in black velvet. The fabric seemed out of place in this room, too passionate for an environment devoid of any warmth.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Markus crouched down in front of me, not close enough for me to reach him. He cocked his head, looking at me “Benjamin…” he said slowly, as if tasting the sound of my name “You know, just as well as I do, that I won’t let you run away from me. No, it’s time you learn” He smiled a gentle smile, an expression that scared me far more than the weapon he revealed as he removed the velvet.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I could go on describing every single thing he did hereafter. But it would be repeating myself. I can tell you that there was much blood, pain and screams. I can tell you that he left me broken on the floor, only sitting because my chains did not permit me to fall. I can tell you that the darkness in the room when he was not there was complete and that the silence was only broken by my strained breathing and failed attempts at mastering my pain. I can tell you that it went on for days, and that the only I knew was that enough time passed between his “visits” that I think he only came when the night was young and stayed until he was forced to sleep.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I remember a change in one of his “lessons” as he called them, someone else came into the room all of the sudden and it was clear that Markus had not planned this. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:12800</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ghostsjournal.livejournal.com/12800.html"/>
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    <title>decisions</title>
    <published>2007-04-25T10:00:03Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-25T10:00:03Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;Shelly has advised me to write down what happened. She says that sometimes there's too many thoughts and memories that it'll smother you and that it helps seeing your thoughts in writing. She assured me that I would have a better sense of control over myself when this is done.&lt;br /&gt; I'm not sure how easy this will be and how long it will take me to tell it all. I am sure it will not be easy, I don't look forward to revealing the less than fortunate events that presented themselves to me in the wake of New Years Eve.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I will try, but bear with me if I find it too difficult.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:12716</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ghostsjournal.livejournal.com/12716.html"/>
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    <title>Just talking</title>
    <published>2007-03-28T08:24:50Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-28T08:31:44Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;”So, what is it you want to talk to me about?” Shelly stood by the window, looking out at the sunlit garden. She seemed curious, but not towards me, her mind betrayed her as thoughts of the possible secrets still lurking in Markus’s mansion. Perhaps I should rather say “my mansion” as I had decided to take over the deserted house together with Maeve. How I should pay for it was a problem I’d deal with later. For now, my guest had my attention.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“I think I need your help... I feel like my mind is falling apart. It’s like Markus is haunting me. I know he is dead, Grae saw the monster die right in front of him. But even so, I still feel like he’s right around the next corner, lurking in the shadows.” I sat down in one of the big, heavy leather chairs that surrounded the narrow, polished coffee table.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shelly gave up her spot by the window and joined me “And how is it that I can help you retrieve your lost sanity?” she was genuinely interested now that the topic of Markus had been brought up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“I’m not sure… I thought I saw him some time ago. I was so sure that it was him that I returned to the place and waited for him to show up…”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“And did he?” She was perched on the edge of the chair, not giving in to its comfy embrace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“He did, and I followed him for a while, trying to figure out how to expose him without putting myself into unnecessary danger, but someone got in my way ” I swallowed, chewing slightly on my bottom lip as I tried do describe how the vampire known as Simeon had stopped me from achieving my goal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Now that I think about it, I know why I felt there was something wrong with Markus… well, it wasn’t Markus, but I thought it was, and I knew something was off about him”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Except for the fact that the first time you saw him was in daylight…” Shelly said with a hint of amusement.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Yes,” I said “Except for that obvious fact. Sorry, but I wasn’t thinking clearly then. I don’t think I’m thinking clearly even now… but I now realize that I could hear his thoughts. Not clearly, there was too much distance between us. But I did hear the murmur and I could never hear Markus”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shelly nodded “I think the answer to why you couldn’t ever hear Markus is quite simple” She gave me a not entirely calming grin as I looked at her for an answer “Honey, it’s quite logical. You couldn’t read his mind because Markus was a vampire. He was dead. Well, actually he was just not living. I bet that minor detail does a lot to your body”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was about to say something when she cut me short “Well, you’ve met Grae’s friend; the antique guy, who seems to have a not entirely healthy love for silly curls and frilly shirts. I’ll admit that you weren’t exactly in perfect condition, but I bet you tried to hear all of us”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She leaned back, looking pleased, as if she had just solved a large puzzle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“I think you’re right. But no, I didn’t try to hear you. When I’m exhausted I can’t control my ability. It runs amok. So yes I did hear you all, except him. He was quiet, just like Markus”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A small frown decorated Shelly’s forehead and she nodded once “So… you still haven’t told me what it is you need me to help you with?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She was right. But I wasn’t sure what I wanted her to do. “I’m not entirely sure. I just, I needed to talk about this with someone. Maeve is not the right one to discuss this with. I don’t think his mind holds the solutions to my problems. I could talk with Grae, but as I see it he has plenty of problems himself. I asked you to come because you know my secrets, but you’re not directly involved. Besides, you’ve helped me before”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Oh yes, what a fucking awesome help; you still got caught by Markus, even when I warned you. Do you mind if I smoke?” she had already pulled out a cigarette from a soft package that she had retrieved from a pocket in one of the many layers of fabric in her skirt. I shook my head and watched her as she lit the cigarette with a match. She inhaled deeply and let the white smoke escape the confinement of her mouth slowly. She looked at me “So… what do you want to do now? Do you just want to sit and talk about it? Do you want me to find this Count Lazar? Do you just want company or should I try and read your fortunes once more? I think they have changed since last time” she laughed shortly, flipping her thick hair behind her shoulder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“I don’t know” I replied, looking at her for an answer that should have been mine “I hoped you could tell me”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:12418</id>
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    <title>Meeting the Count</title>
    <published>2007-02-19T13:16:09Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-19T13:16:09Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;”You?!” If the wall hadn’t been there, I’d taken another step backwards.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;His thin lips formed an amused smile “I did not expect you to have survived Markus. And I definitely did not expect you to have healed so quickly… but yes, you have indeed seen me before, though I was not sure that you would remember me, considering the state you were in, when I last saw you”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I studied him in the darkness, the dark blond hair was pushed back behind his left ear, and the shadows made his slender face and high cheekbones even more prominent. He was dressed in black, expensive looking clothes. His long, high collared coat had a small insignia embroidered on the chest. He was leaning slightly on a silver tipped cane, looking at me, waiting for some kind of reaction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“I remember you, yes. I don’t know who you are though… and also… you could have stopped him”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I couldn’t help feeling angry, he was keeping me away from my target, he was moving further and further away from where we stood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He nodded shortly “Ah yes. Let me first say that my name is Simeon Lazar, the current regent of the Bulgarian coven of the northern region.” He shifted slightly “Yes, I could have stopped him, but what you must understand is that I cared for him deeply, I did all that I could have possibly done. I had hoped to reach him somehow…” he seemed to sigh “Well, that is of no importance now. What you have to realize now is that Markus is gone. He’s dead” he stepped backwards, out of the shadow and into the light of the lampposts “Now, you’ll have to excuse me, I’m not actually here to talk with you, but to look after my, assets, if you will. The one you have been following tonight might look like Markus, but he is a lot younger than him, not to mention… he’s human. He knows nothing of Markus, or vampires, he’s innocent and if you hurt him in any way… I’m not one to make threats, suffice to say that you wouldn’t like what I’d do.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He turned his back to me “I believe I’m correct when I say that this won’t be the last time we see each other. Have a nice night, my ghostly friend” he said and walked away from me in a relaxed pace. For some reason I did not follow him, nor did I try to continue my pursuit of the tall one. I went home and went to bed at once… I’ve been lying here since then, trying to gather my thoughts and figure out what’s going on. I’m no longer sure what I’m supposed to do. I think I have to talk with Shelly again…&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:12128</id>
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    <title>Hunter or hunted?</title>
    <published>2007-02-16T13:29:32Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-16T13:30:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;I left the house alone today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I felt exposed and vulnerable for the first few minutes, the feeling of someone watching me sending chills down my spine. Taking a deep breath I straightened up and shook it off, today was not the time to be fearful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The weather was cold; it had been so for days, the air thick with that menacing chill that makes your skin feel like it’s attacked by thousands of microscopic needles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don’t know why I expected to see him again, it seemed that you only found Markus when he wanted you to, but even so I took the train to the city and went down the same streets I had walked so many times before, hoping, but also fearing, that I would see that pale face again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The street was pretty crowded when you took into account that it was after nightfall, it seemed that the people of this city had taken to frequently visit the many cafés, which windows lit up between the otherwise dark, closed shops along the street.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I walked in a slow pace, alert and looking out for the devil. Nobody seemed to notice me, even with my white hair I guess I’m starting to blend in, look like I belong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The air above me seemed strangely empty, now that they have taken down the Christmas decorations that normally lit op the night. I looked up into the sky and saw that snow was falling slowly towards the ground. Had it been another day I might have enjoyed studying the crystals as they slowly soared down to rest on the cold cobbles, but tonight had other plans for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something caught my eye, or rather, someone. Towering slightly above the rest I saw someone walking away from me. Something told me that this was him and I followed. Not too quickly, I didn’t want him to notice me. His sleek black hair fell in silky strands down his back, covering the shoulders of his tailored coat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I followed him through the streets toward the opera house. Something about him seemed slightly off, but that was to be expected after his run-in with Grae.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was slowly getting closer, trying to find an opening, a second would be enough to pull him into a smaller street, or the shade of a building, and then I’d finish him off, get him out of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was now only a few feet away from him, I could smell the faint fragrance of perfume, an expensive one at that, he was probably on his way to seduce some naïve fool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I gathered up my strength and was about to reach for him when someone pulled me away, someone strong and very fast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Strong hands rested on my shoulders, we were both standing completely still, awaiting the others reaction “Trust me,” said a soft voice close to my ear “you do &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; want to do whatever it is you think you’re doing”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was something familier&amp;nbsp;about that voice, but I couldn’t quite place where I’d heard it before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I kept calm “Oh, and why is it that you think you know my reasons? He’s a murdering lunatic, I would be doing the World a favor”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was gently pushed further into the dark shadows of the towering building, he probably wanted to handicap me in some way, but what he surely didn’t know was that I have excellent night vision.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He let me go and laughed a short amused laugh “Hmm, Ghost, I don’t think you’re correct about your assumption of this man’s identity… In fact, I’m positive that you’re wrong!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:11980</id>
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    <title>Some sick joke!</title>
    <published>2007-02-16T08:17:38Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-16T08:45:27Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;I can’t believe it. It is not possible! I saw him, right there in the midst of the crowded street, walking in the light, and nothing happened. How can this be possible?! He died, I know he died!! But my eyes do not deceive me, and there he was, looking at shop windows, hiding amongst his prey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I… I don’t know what this is… how can he still be alive? Was all I have been through just a nightmare? A hellish dream? Or… did he actually escape Grae?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to do something, I will no longer be the victim, the chased. This time I will find him and I will stop him, for good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Markus might have tricked me before, he might have tricked Grae, but no more, this time… it’s over!&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:11767</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ghostsjournal.livejournal.com/11767.html"/>
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    <title>When the roar dies out</title>
    <published>2007-02-14T10:42:33Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-14T10:42:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;I feel like screaming. There’s so many thoughts and feeling clogging up my brain that it’s almost unbearable. But screaming won’t solve anything, it’ll only numb my ears for a few seconds until the roar subsides and the shadows creep in once more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the first time in a very long time, I wish I was back Inside. I don’t recall the last time the longing for oblivion was this strong, I want to forget everything, but as soon as I close my eyes I see it all again, like some twisted movie that was never supposed to have been created.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My wounds have already healed, but I still feel the metal jabbing around my insides, the feeling of something foreign and damaging invading my body, and I keep looking down myself, half expecting to see the blood pour from gaping wounds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’m tired of trying to stay awake, fearing what sleep might bring when my mental walls are down, and then being torn out of the little sleep I get by nightmares far to real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’m not sure how I am supposed to cope with all of this, I don’t know how to move on. I wander around his house, seeing the things he left behind, all the memories that I’ll never know, and I look for some clue to why he acted like he did, for the tiniest sign of his broken mind. But there’s nothing, everything is beautiful and neatly kept. There are no paintings of torn apart bodies or twisted sculptures frozen in tortured poses. The house is beautiful and stoic, everything I thought it would be back then when I first met him. It feels like it’s been years since our first conversation at the library. So many things have happened since, too much for such a short period of time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only proof of his sickness, and the thing I need to assure me that this was not all a horrid dream, is the basement; the only place I don’t go to. I’ve been half way down the stairs before the nausea overpowered me and I had to escape back up and out into the garden and the fresh air.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’m scared of that place. No, not just scared, I hate that place with every fibre of my being. Going down those stairs feels like slowly drowning, and I can’t do it, I can’t go through that door. I think I’ll loose my mind for good if I enter that room again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maeve is doing his best to see that I get what I need. He talks to me a lot, without expecting me to answer back. I think he just wants me to know that he’s there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I went into the room Markus had first placed me in after bringing me here. I stepped in and just stood there, looking at the beautiful furniture and the heavy curtains that shielded the room from curious outsiders trying to look in. The chains were still there, and the blankets were still on the floor. A dark trail of dried blood stained the floorboards toward the door that I had closed behind me. It didn’t take long until I fell apart. All my mental strength gave way for the massive waves of build up anger, fear and feelings of helplessness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don’t recall what happened after that, but I do remember that I ended up in the corner of the room. I think the door opened, I don’t actually remember hearing it, but it had to, as Maeve was suddenly beside me. “Benjamin,” he said with that gentle voice “you can’t stay in here. Please come…”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was looking at the devastation I had caused in the few minutes that had passed while I had my mental lock-down. Debris were scattered across the room, ripped fabric and splinters of wood covered the polished floor. Feathers and dust filled the air and played in the bright, cold light that poured in through the shredded remains of the curtains.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized I was crying, I think I had been crying all the time, but I just hadn’t noticed until now. I let him help me get to my feet, dazed as I was, but I almost fell down again, all my strength seemingly leaving me. Maeve let me lean against him as I regained my balance and he supported me as we left the room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will try and go outside today, not just into the garden, but actually go into the city. My wounds are completely healed, and I feel the need to get out, to try and get back on track and do things that will make me, perhaps not forget, but at least think about what happened less.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’ll ask Maeve if he wishes to come with me, I don’t want to be alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:11400</id>
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    <title>ghostsjournal @ 2007-01-19T15:35:00</title>
    <published>2007-01-19T13:00:57Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-19T13:01:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, sorry about that sudden outburst of horror. I think I did not sleep too well. My apologies if I troubled anyone too severely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I act a bit too dramatic, but I am fine now. I just needed to feed, that is all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy your weekend, my lovely readers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:11050</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ghostsjournal.livejournal.com/11050.html"/>
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    <title>Tik tok, wake up!</title>
    <published>2007-01-19T12:55:33Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-19T12:55:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;What am I doing? This was never what I wished. But it is way too late now, is it not? There are some hurts that goes too deep, and when you finally realise it, there is no longer any cure strong enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could say that I had fun while it lasted, but when I think of it, I cannot find a single memory that truly makes me smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is never a joy to wake up and know that today is the day that your conscience catches up with you, especially when you know that tomorrow, or a year from now, or perhaps in two hours, that conscience will have fled your mind once more, too scared to actually take a stance and fight the insanity that rules your actions otherwise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If nothing changes soon, I know it will be time to end it, one way or another.&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:10865</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ghostsjournal.livejournal.com/10865.html"/>
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    <title>A final visit</title>
    <published>2007-01-17T12:32:18Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-17T12:32:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;”HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY MAD?!” The Count was staring at me with disbelief.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“You cannot keep doing this! Have you finally lost those last precious pieces of your humanity?” he was pacing back and forth in front of me, too agitated to sit down, the heels of his polished black boots meeting the marble floors with great force, the sound they made echoing into the space above us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He had come alone unannounced, and had had the audacity to let himself in. The walls of my home are soundproof, so how he found his way down to Benjamin I do not know. Perhaps it was the smell, or perhaps he just checked every room in the mansion before ending up in the cellar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He must have thought that I would have been out feasting. He should have known better. I plan ahead, and I had stored food so that I would not have to leave my home unless it was absolutely necessary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He stopped in his pace turned and slapped my face with the back of his hand before I had a chance to react. Sometimes I forget just how fast the old ones are. His lips curled back as he sneered at me “Release him, Markus. NOW!” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was starting to bore me “I guess you do not approve of my methods?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“M... methods?! If this was a different situation I would laugh!” he pointed to Benjamin “In what part of our last conversation did I tell you &lt;i&gt;anything&lt;/i&gt; that let you believe that it would be a good idea to maim the poor boy?!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Well, you said it yourself; your way proved faulting” A tickling sensation made me wipe my forehead, leaving a bloody smear on my sleeve. He was clearly overreacting, placing himself between me and Benjamin “Leave us Simeon. You could care less about him. He is of no importance to you, what so ever. What have brought you to take this sudden interest in him?!” I had to be careful; the Count could easily kill me off if he wanted to. Even so I felt my anger surging in the back of my mind, like fire wanting to consume the dry remains of my logic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“He may or may not be of any importance, but you are walking on dangerous grounds Markus! Stop this madness!!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Leave, Lazar… Now!” I was hissing at him, and I know I was threatening him, it was an empty threat, he could snap me in half if he wanted to, but I held my ground. He was scrutinizing me, seemingly considering whether or not he wanted to bother fighting me. It seemed a decision was made, he closed his eyes for a long time, then looked at Benjamin “Markus,” he said, still not taking his eyes of the boy “This friendship is over. You’re digging your own grave, and I will take no part in making the hole even deeper. I know that I won’t see you again… It was, if not pleasant, then at least interesting knowing you. Goodbye” He turned around and left without looking at me even once. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:10691</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ghostsjournal.livejournal.com/10691.html"/>
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    <title>...</title>
    <published>2007-01-15T22:49:04Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-15T23:02:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">"You still haven't eaten anything?" It upset me. He was where I left him, and the restraints had kept him in place all day while I slept. It was easy to tell that he had tried his hardest to break free, the sheets were scattered on the floor by the bed. &lt;br /&gt;I sat down on the edge of the bed, he recoiled as if I had threatened to hit him. I refused to give in to the urge to swear "You know, it is undrinkable now, I will have to throw it out and find you a fresh supply"&lt;br /&gt;He looked away "I refuse to drink, or eat anything you offer me" he was sneering with each word, as if the words themselves had a foul taste.&lt;br /&gt;"Benjamin. I wish you no harm..."&lt;br /&gt;"Then why are you keeping me here?! Like this?!!" Those burning eyes looked at me, studied me, looking for some way to understand the situation, to know what would happen next.&lt;br /&gt;I leaned closer, speaking in a softer tone "Benjamin... please"&lt;br /&gt;"DON'T CALL ME THAT!! You have NO right to call me by that name! You're not my friend!!" He was so angry, his voice breaking as he yelled "How could you betray me like that?! Do something like that!! I... I thought you were my friend!" he tore at the chains, trying to reach me with those claw-like fingers "I was dying, Markus! Don't you understand that?!! I was DYING!!" He looked away, hiding his face behind those messy white curls. He relaxed, his hands falling down onto the bed and his voice grew faint,&amp;nbsp; "I didn't survive because of you. If it hadn't been for Maeve and Grae, I'd been dead... you'd succeeded in killing me... Do you really expect me to forgive you?" He sighed, leaning back, resting against the headboard, seeming almost resigned "You have no right to ask anything of me"&lt;br /&gt;He was acting like a child. I understood his feelings, but at the same time I felt my anger rising. I had done nothing since bringing him here, nothing but treating him with respect, but still he needed to attack me. Had I not with my recent actions showed him that I did not wish to repeat the events of the past? I forced myself to stay calm, this was no reason to shout at him, a lot of anger had surely build up inside him and he just needed to let it out.&lt;br /&gt;I rose to pick up the blankets when the sound of the chains betrayed him. I was too close and he had seen the opportunity to attack, moving forward with amazing speed, reaching for me once again. Had it not been for the silvery sound of the metal he'd probably succeeded, but he only managed to leave three bloody cuts that had gone through fabric and skin before I managed to pull away.&lt;br /&gt;Something broke inside me, and the anger spilled over, washing out any forgiveness that might have been given.&lt;br /&gt;In one swift motion I got hold of the syringe lying on the dresser, and with the other hand I grabbed him by his throat pressing him down onto the bed. &lt;br /&gt;"Remember how I told you you would know if I would drug you? This is it!" I hissed, forcing his his head sideways and jabbed the needle into the exposed skin on his neck. "NO!!"He screamed and growled at me, fighting the sedative affecting his body, turning this way and that. His movements grew sluggish, and his voice faint, until he lost consciousness completely.&lt;br /&gt;I grabbed him by his ankle and pulled him out of the bed, not caring that his head crashed to the floor, leaving a small bloody trail as I pulled him behind me, out the door and through the halls, heading towards the cellar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have locked him securely down there. He has been there for more than a week now, and I have only been down there a single time since, leaving food for him. He needs to learn who is in charge. He needs to understand that he lives because of me.&lt;br /&gt;He will get his first lesson later tonight. He will soon understand. Everything will be as it is supposed to be... In time, it will be perfect.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:10350</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ghostsjournal.livejournal.com/10350.html"/>
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    <title>...</title>
    <published>2007-01-13T19:07:33Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-15T23:02:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;He answered with a sneer, watching my every move.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;"Are you hungry?" I kept calm, there was no reason to scold him or try to show authority, it was clear that I was the one in control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;"No" this time he didn't shout, but it was obvious that he wasn't enjoying answering my question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;"Well, I'll leave it here just the same. Don't worry, I didn't drug the food" I laughed, finding this quite an amusing situation "You'll know if I want to drug you. That's a promise"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I checked the room, knowing him he could easily have broken something while I wasn't there. Everything was in it's proper place, and the restraints where still securely locked around his neck and wrists.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I gave him a soft smile "Well, I'm having a guest over tonight, so I won't be keeping you company" I ran a finger over one of the bedposts "Hopefully you'll be able to entertain yourself?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I waited for him to respond, but got nothing, just a hateful stare, so I left the room without saying another word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Closing the door behind me, I leaned against the intricate carved wood. I think I sighed. I could hear him in the room, the muffled sound of chains beneath the bedcovers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Maybe I had taken on more than I could handle? How to turn this situation to what I wished for suddenly seemed a lot more complicated than when the thought of bringing him home first occurred to me. This had to be planned better, what the hell was I thinking anyway? I’m not sure. Somehow, deep down I had hoped that perhaps he would wake up, throw his arms around me and confess his undying love for me. No, I know that would never happen, not unless… until I teach him. I have to make him want to stay, want to see me, like before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I admit it was not a smart move to do what I did in the hotel. But it was different then. He was different, at least in my eyes. I had not expected him to survive. At first I thought he was a mere human, an odd one, but human none the less. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;As such humans are not important to me. They are a source of food and entertainment, but not something I get attached to. There are a few that I do feel a sort of love for, but as a rule I don’t see them very often, so no bonds too strong to break gets formed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I learned along time ago that I shouldn’t love them; they die so easily, from illness, accidents or simply just age. You can’t prevent any of these things from happening, and when they do exit your life they leave you bleeding. No I learned my lesson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;It seems like a lot of my kinsmen are never alone, they make a companion if they aren’t already one themselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;But that was not what was supposed to happen to me. I remember when I was brought over to this side. I was not drunk, or careless. I wasn’t fighting with my killer or trying to charm him. No I was asleep in my bed. Pain tore me from the warm embrace of a sweet dream and threw me into the clutches of death with a swiftness no one would have thought possible. When I woke no one was there watching over me, no ominous shadow to guide me through the life of the undead. No, I believed it had only been a nightmare, but I soon learned that that had not been the case.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I shall not bore you with the details of my wanderings and how I tried to fit in and deceive my loved ones. Neither shall I try and explain how it is to see the ones you trust recoil from you as you try to touch them, as if the mere touch of your hands would leave them with some deadly illness. No, when my wife died I decided to leave my life as a mortal behind. She had been the only one who had stood her ground, defended me from the suspicion of the rest of the family. When she died, so did the old me. I left to discover the World.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;No, after what happened at the hotel, and seeing Benjamin’s name still pop up in the journals that people close to him keep, I realised that he is different. He was made as a copy of someone else, but he evolved into something more, and better. He will not wither away under the pressure of the World passing by as he himself stands still. He won’t go out into the rays of the sun and disintegrate in a sudden wish for death, or make companions that can make him leave. He’ll stay with me, I just have to make him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;A knock on the front door announced the arrival of my guest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;“My dear count, it is a pleasure to see you. Thank you for coming on such a short notice”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;He entered the hall with a smile, followed by one of his servants “Marcus, my friend, have I not told you to call me Simeon? Do tell if my memory deceives me” he took of his coat and let the servant take it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;“Yes, indeed you have, but I do find it hard not to follow the rules of the court” we walked through the hall followed by the silent boy. He knew his place, and did not speak, he knew that he was not the one invited and acted accordingly like the shadow a servant is supposed to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;“Well, you wanted my advise did you not? This was why you invited me, isn’t that so? I was quite surprised to get an invitation. I swear, sometimes you’re almost like a hermit or a holy man, not wanting the company of anyone, living or not living” he laughed. I gave him a smile, but nothing more. True I’m not the kind to hold a lot of gatherings, I find vampires boring and shallow. Simeon Lazar is one of the few that I tolerate, him being one of the old ones and actually still caring about what happens in the World and keeping a watchful eye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;“I am indeed in need of your help, my friend. If I remember correctly I believe that you once held a most intriguing creature against his will, or are the stories told just that, stories?” he lifted an eyebrow, he was caught of guard by this question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;“Yes, that is what happened. I grew quite fascinated with a boy in my court, that is true. Can you believe it, he wasn’t even one of us, and it did not matter to me, not the least” he smiled at the thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;“Then is it not true that you tried and make him adore you? I have heard that you used quite elaborate means of trying to change his will” I wanted him to tell me his secret, his memories could hold the answer to my troubles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;His expression was changing, growing darker “That is true” he answered “But haven’t you also then heard that nothing good came out of my hard labour? That all I did was ruining him? That story is one of tragedy and horror” he cocked his head surveying me “Ah; I see that you have not. But that is what happened. It was a long time ago, I have changed a lot since then. Why do you ask?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;We talked for hours as I tried to explain my case, tried to figure out where he had gone wrong. He had no answers for me, no magical solution to my worries. He tried to persuade me to give up, making me release the target of my strange affections. But I held my ground. I do trust Simeon, and I value his thoughts, but this was something I could not agree to do. He was wrong, and there has to be a way to sooth my longings, some way to make everything right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;As the morning grew closer I bid the count and his servant farewell, sad that there had been no solutions in his memory, but glad that I had had his company this night. As he exited the door he left me with a final attempt “Markus, if my fears are correct this will not turn out to your benefit. Please consider once more. You have always been ill-fated, but your time is not up yet. Let the boy go” I laughed “Oh, it is already too late for that my friend, much too late. Goodbye Simeon” He left without saying another word, leaving me alone with my dark thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:10200</id>
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    <title>Let's see if I get this etry right...</title>
    <published>2007-01-10T07:20:12Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-15T23:03:42Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;He’s doing quite well, considering his current situation.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;I have kept him in the cellar the last couple of days, as he behaved quite unacceptable last time I fed him.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Times New Roman"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;Hm, no let’s start at the beginning, shall we?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;had arrived in town the 29&lt;sup&gt;th,&lt;/sup&gt; in good time, I might add. The house was spotless, just as I left it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;I had ordered groceries home online while I was still in &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;London&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; and the housemaid had placed it all neatly in the fridge. I don’t actually need food, but since I knew I’d soon have a guest staying over for a while, I found it best.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;I didn’t&lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;leave the house until after darkness fell, of course. I ate out, enjoying a light Italian meal, then I took a stroll through the park, it was easy to scale the wall around it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;A few people were already shooting fireworks, eager youngsters having fun and parents wanting to please their little ones before putting them to bed early, so they themselves could enjoy the festivities.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;I already knew where I was going, but I took my time, no need to hurry. The weather was beautiful, cold and icy, but with a soft breeze, bringing warmer temperatures. No clouds either.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Times New Roman"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;When I found him, he was standing with that little friend of his, the scarred boy. It was close to midnight and crowds had gathered on the ridge of the hill, looking to the skies. I scaled the hill behind them. I did not worry about him being warned by my scent, however faint it is, the air was filled with the smell of gunpowder from the fireworks.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;The countdown began and everyone’s attention was elsewhere. 4… 3… 2… 1…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;A friend of sorts had given me the idea of bringing sedative in a syringe. I was quick, he didn’t have a chance to react, and I pulled him down the hill while his little friend stood there, not noticing anything.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;He didn’t put up a fight, how could he, I already knew how much I needed to make him… more reasonable. The trip home, however long was so easy. I’m amazed that no one stopped to wonder why a man was carrying the limp body of another man through the streets. Well my strength made it look effortless, and since the whole city was in the midst of celebration, my guess is that they ust assumed that I was helping a drunk friend home.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Times New Roman"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;I installed him in the guest bedroom, having prepared it long before I even let for &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;London&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. I pride myself in being a great room decorator. The soft but neutral colors had been chosen with care. The paintings detailed and perfect, not boring eyes that would have to study them for a long period of time. The tall windows framed by heavy, curtains hid the cast iron bars, placed there to keep him from trying to jump out the window. The canopy bed was placed to the north, facing the window.&lt;span style=""&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I trusted the restraints would be strong enough to contain him, but only time would tell.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Times New Roman"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;“Why are you keeping me here?!” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;He had been screaming non-stop since he woke from his drug induced sleep. When he finally stopped screaming, more than twenty four hours had passed. I had not stepped into the room since returning home with my guest. But now as he had finally gone quiet, probably out of fatigue, he was calm…well, calmer.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;He repeated his question. Burning eyes followed me as I made my way into the room. I didn’t feel like answering him right away, so I took my time putting down the tray with food, I’m sure he was starving.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;“Benjamin. How are you doing? I hope you did get a few hours of sleep between the wailing?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;This time it was his turn not to answer, but sound did escape his lips.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;“Benjamin! Was that a growl?”&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Times New Roman"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
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    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:9875</id>
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    <title>New wonders</title>
    <published>2007-01-02T14:18:57Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-15T23:04:22Z</updated>
    <content type="html">This is a test. 1... 2... 3...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well well, this will be interesting, won't it?&lt;br /&gt;I'll see if I can make him tell what he experienced at the fortune teller, and maybe he will even share his experiences of the first Christmas Eve that he's actually been awake to remember. I'm not all that sure that he will though. He seems, tired. It's to be expected, with all the fun we've had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I'll leave you all for now. Have fun, and Happy New Year's to you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-M</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:9496</id>
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    <title>This girl I know of</title>
    <published>2006-12-20T15:05:05Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-20T15:05:05Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;It had been a weird conversation. Bee had sat down in front of me with a very serious expression across her face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took a sip of my tea and waited for her to say something. I didn’t have to wait long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Look…” She said, with the face of someone struggling to find the right words “…I know you’re different. I know you have a lot of secrets. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking you to share everything, to tell me where you go when you disappear. But you have to understand that I worry about you” I wanted to assure her that I would not suddenly disappear forever, that I cared as much about her. But how could I make such a statement when I don’t know what the future brings? I decided to give her a small nod, not wanting to interrupt her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Benjamin. You’re changing… I’ve noticed. No don’t hide your hands” I hadn’t even noticed that I was moving my hands. “I don’t pretend to know everything and I certainly don’t pretend to know what’s best for you, but I do want to help. I have this friend; she went to this lady when she had some personal issues. This lady helped my friend a lot, and maybe she could help you too”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried to keep a positive mind, but the idea scared me a little. What Bee said reminded me too much of therapists and psychiatrists. I didn’t try to read her mind. Now that I had gained control of my power, I wasn’t keen to use it, unless it was absolutely necessary, and she would eventually tell me what this was all about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“You look worried, Benji. I assure you, there’s no need to be. Shelly is a very experienced lady, and she might have an idea of what path you should take from here. Maybe it will benefit both you and Maeve.” She looked over her shoulder, studying Maeve for a second. He was putting a lot of effort into cleaning the counter, making it shine as much as possible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“He’s a sweet boy,” she continued “as long as there’s someone to look after him, I won’t worry. But he follows you whenever he can, and he’s not as fast, nor strong as you. He could end up getting hurt really bad. You have to be more careful… ” she went quiet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was time to say something, but what to say? “I… who is this Shelly that you speak of? I mean, what does she do? Is she some kind of therapist?” Yes, wonderful Ghost, great conversation skills.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bee smiled “Oh no, not at all” she smiled “No, Shelly is a, what to call it? She’s a seer, I think is the word. She reads hands, and finds opportunities in cards for you. She can read auras and such” I’ll have to be frank with you, I have no idea what she was talking about. I think my lack of understanding was pretty obvious. Bee put her hand on top of mine “Trust me Benji, she’s great. I know it’s probably not your thing, all this… alternative stuff, but would it hurt to try?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I couldn’t see how it could. As long as it wasn’t some kind of doctor that she wanted me to go visit. I don’t want her to think I have some kind of mental illness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I agreed to go visit this “seer” not only to calm Bee, but also because something stirred my curiosity. How could someone help me by looking at cards and asking me when I was born (a question I know I’ll never be able to answer) Be promised to take me to see this person the next day.&lt;/div&gt;</content>
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    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:9264</id>
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    <title>changes</title>
    <published>2006-11-24T10:28:14Z</published>
    <updated>2006-11-24T10:33:53Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;There aren’t that many customers in the café today. Bee is cleaning here and there, humming to herself. She wants to talk something over with me, it’s obvious, but I’ll let her set the pace and decide when she should start the conversation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maeve is stacking cups behind the counter, putting them neatly on top of each other, making sure that every stack is standing neatly aligned with the stack beside it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The wireless internet feed that Bee has had installed works flawlessly, so I’m &amp;nbsp;borrowing Maeve’s laptop to surf the web.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My wounds have healed completely now. The bruise on my stomach has gone as well, leaving an almost white, cross-shaped scar on my skin. Drinking Grae’s blood have boosted my healing ability, I feel stronger as well. My body is changing, and I’m not sure if it’s to the better or worse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every sense have been sharpened, and still I can control them all. Smells no longer overpower me, hearing high sounds doesn’t leave me with headaches and hearing peoples thoughts doesn’t unnerve me as they used to. I can even shut them out completely now, hearing no thoughts but my own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’ve been practising, shutting the power on and off, trying to master my body and the abilities I’ve been equipped with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’m pretty pleased with everything so far… only, with the gained strength, my body has changed slightly too. It’s leaner now, almost no fat, just muscles. I look more slender now. I'm hungrier too… it scares me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;When did I start to change?&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;My nails worry me as well. Yes it sounds silly, but they’re growing fast, really fast. They're stronger, more&amp;nbsp;clawlike and&amp;nbsp;sharper as well.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;I try to keep them down, and Bee always laughs as I manically try to keep them down with the nail file.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Am I just turning into some kind of animal?&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t help but to think of last Christmas, and the amount of sleep I got, Maeve called it hibernation, which I had to look up. But I don’t think that’s what was going on. Maybe, the changes in my body demanded that I shut down for a while? I don’t know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The changes also might just have been trickered by Grae’s blood… I cannot know for sure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm, it seems that Bee is ready to get that conversation going… &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:9119</id>
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    <title>A meeting of kindred</title>
    <published>2006-11-08T12:51:52Z</published>
    <updated>2006-11-08T12:52:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I met up with Grae a few weeks ago. I wanted to see him again, and I also felt I had to give him the file I had from Inside that described Grae in such intricate details. &lt;br /&gt;I had put up a notice online for him to see and asked him to meet with me at the harbor, a place I like to spend my nights. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came there early, making sure that the site was clear. As the wind howled and the black skies above me slowly released the masses of water that they had held back too long, I sat down on a bench by the canal, where the harbor-bus made it's stop in the daytime. &lt;br /&gt;With a hat pulled firmly down over my hair, trying disguise myself just a little I sat there, waiting for him. The strands of white curls still pooled on my shoulders, even in the darkness my hair is way too noticeable.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="ljcut" text="I heard him..."&gt;I heard him before I saw him. There's something very specific about the murmur of thoughts when a person approaches me from far away. I looked up and watched him as he slowly came closer, cautious of anything out of the ordinary. He was scanning the area, just as I had done when I arrived.&lt;br /&gt;He was about the greet me when he suddenly became unsure.&lt;br /&gt;"Hello, G... Do you prefer to be called Benjamin?"&lt;br /&gt;"Ghost, Benjamin, I react to both names. Use whatever you prefer." I replied followed by coughing. My throat was still bothering me.&lt;br /&gt;He asked to my health, mentioning that I looked better, to which I replied "Yeah ... I guess I did look pretty terrible." with a short laugh. He wanted to ask me something completely different, I could tell, and yet he kept talking around it with polite small talk.&lt;br /&gt;I asked him to walk with me, and he quickly agreed. As we walked along the harbor with the pitch black water to the left of us, I thanked him for coming to meet me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad you came ... I wasn't sure if you would."&lt;br /&gt;He was surprised "Why would I not?" &lt;br /&gt;I looked away, trying to find the words to describe my thoughts. "You seemed like it was ... forgive my expression, horrible to be near me last time we talked."&lt;br /&gt;"I ... I am sorry," he stammered. "I was ..."&lt;br /&gt;I waved my hand at him, stopping him in his train of thought, "It's okay. Shock and all."&lt;br /&gt;"When I read Maeve's cry for help, I had no choice but to attempt to assist him. I had not envisioned meeting you ... like that. In the beginning, I was afraid of you because I knew you might attempt to kill me, and I did not want us to harm each other. But ... meeting you ..." I struggled for the right words, "I wanted to meet you. Part of me always did." he seemed determined to explain, without offending me.&lt;br /&gt;I looked at the ground as we continued along the docks "I've changed my ... goals, many times now. At first... Well, there was only the objective. To get you back. You were my ticket back Inside. Then White died," the picture of White sitting at the table with the chess board, waiting for me to make the next move, flickered in my memory "And I was on my own. And I felt that if I could find you, I could get answers to my questions. And then after that... I really didn't think that far. But time changes things, me included. And I learned more, found friends, a family of sorts. And suddenly, I jus gave up on you. You didn't really matter as such. I had questions, sure, but they didn't rule my life as they did in the time after White died." thinking of the events that had led to this meeting between Grae and I made me grit my teeth "If it hadn't been for Markus and Maeve ... we probably wouldn't have met. Not yet anyway."&lt;br /&gt;"And now we can meet as equals, and not as a hunter and his prey," he said with something that could almost have been a smile. "Well, you told me that you would answer my questions. I apologise for my lack of politeness last time, but I shall, of course, return the offer" he continued.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not sure where to start ... In any case, that was not why I asked you to come. This was," I held out the folder to him.&lt;br /&gt;He was hesitant at first, as if the folder would burn his finger if he touched it. "These are ... from the lab?" he asked, looking at me.&lt;br /&gt;"These are the files that I studied for weeks. I took them along with my own files and the second clone's files. I'm only giving you yours since they really do belong to you." I replied, stil holding the folder.&lt;br /&gt;Clone - he was musing over the word,trying to accept that I was using this word to describe me and Mist...&lt;br /&gt;"Mist, yes," I replied as the name popped up in Grae's mind.&lt;br /&gt;"I find it difficult to know that you can read my mind," he mumbled. "Well ... Thank you. Thank you ..." he finally took the folder.&lt;br /&gt;He found my ability uncomfortable, and so I tried to make him feel more at ease "I'm in control, so I don't get that much from you," I said. Looking at the folder I continued "It's merely physical stats and a lot of complicated gibberish, I don't understand half of it. My file is even worse. It mostly describes my ... creation." I started to cough. These fits bothered me, not only because they were indeed uncomfortable, but also because they made it difficult to be stealth. Coughing makes it quite hard to sneak up on people!&lt;br /&gt;"Are you all right?" he asked with concern coloring his voice.&lt;br /&gt;"My throat has been bothering me since he poured that poison into me. It's really nothing, I'm fine," I replied, trying to regain control.&lt;br /&gt;"Good ... I ... I am sorry," he said as if it were his fault. He suddenly laughed, and as I stared at him he apologiesed "I merely find the whole situation a little absurd. I feel more insecure than I usually do. And I cannot hide it because you can read my thoughts."&lt;br /&gt;Again I had to explain "I can't really read them that much. I make my own restraints. But they fall apart when I am low on energy. It's difficult to explain. But I only really hear you when you think loud enough." this talk of origin stired a memory of a book I had recently read "This is like that story religious people tell each other."&lt;br /&gt;"What story?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh ... you haven't read the Bible?" I replied looking at him.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes,".&lt;br /&gt;I went on to explain "I read some of it. You know, the creator takes a rib from the man and makes a second human."&lt;br /&gt;He understood "Ah, I see your point of reference. And, as you might have noticed, the first two stories of creation are highly contradiction, suggesting that there is no one truth. I ... read a lot," he said with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;I returned the smile, "I do too."&lt;br /&gt;We stopped at a bridge crossing the water, it almost looked like the bridge was build of light, hovering over the liquid darkness that was the water this time at night. He looked at the papers in his hand.&lt;br /&gt;"So ... you had questions?" I began, looking at him.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. Markus - does he know where to find you? And ... do you know where to find him?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know. And I don't know where he is. He is not at the hotel anymore. He checked out. I finally found the courage to look for him today."&lt;br /&gt;"Please be careful," he said. "I feel a strange kind of solidarity towards you. I would hate for you to get hurt. Again."&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help notice the way he talked, and for some reason I couldn't stop myself "Do you always talk like this?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;"What?" he looked at me with a slight surprise.&lt;br /&gt;"Umm, you just talk very ... formal. I'm not sure how to respond really," I explained.&lt;br /&gt;"I ... suppose I do," he said "I try to be as precise as possible when I talk. I can make an effort to speak less formally,"&lt;br /&gt;"No, don't bother," I said, "But it makes you sound like you're distancing yourself. Are you?"&lt;br /&gt;"Distancing? From you? From the world at large, or from myself?"&lt;br /&gt;"Just from me. Do you talk like that to everyone? Sorry," I stopped myself. I didn't want to offend him, and I felt like I was walking on unsure grounds. "Stupid questions." &lt;br /&gt;"No, not at all. And I do indeed. We," he added, "ask a lot of questions, both of us. But is it so strange? We have been out here for a while, and we have made completely different lives for ourselves ..."&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;We walked in silence for a while, both trying to understand the other.&lt;br /&gt;"Is Maeve all right?" Grae asked.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help smiling, Maeve just had that effect on me "He is fine. He seems to get over things easily."&lt;br /&gt;"I am glad to hear he is doing well." he said.&lt;br /&gt;"It wasn't easy to get out alone tonight, though." it really hadn't, I had had to convince him over and over that I would be fine, and that I wouldn't try anything 'adventurous' as he called it " He's not happy when I leave without him. Considering the past couple of days, I cannot say that I blame him."&lt;br /&gt;"Of course,"&lt;br /&gt;I tried to get the conversation back on track "Those weren't the questions you wanted to ask me, were they?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;"No. But I find it difficult to do so. Despite your offer to answer them."&lt;br /&gt;"Then don't ask. The words will some when the time is right, I guess. It's not like we're in a hurry."&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you. Last time you seemed to react when I thought of ... one of the researchers in the lab ..."&lt;br /&gt;"Lawrence," I simply said.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Lawrence. Do you know if he is still alive?" he asked, looking at me with a grave expression "I killed him. I mean, I think I did."&lt;br /&gt;I thought about before replying "I don't know ..." I said slowly "I saw him before I came outside. But I don't remember when. I didn't like him. He looked at me in a weird way. He thought he could conceal his thoughts from me ... fool."&lt;br /&gt;"He was the researcher in charge of ... me. What did you call me ..? Messed up ... He was in charge of that." I could hear the spite and hatred boil up beneath the surface.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh." I paused. I wished I could remember more, but for reasons I could not find, the memories seemed to elude me every time I grasped at them "He only came to see me a few times. To check up on my progress."&lt;br /&gt;"I am glad," he said.&lt;br /&gt;I felt the need to make him understand that I disliked this Lawrence "You know what he saw when he looked at me? A toy. A really intelligent toy. He found me amusing. Everyone else was nice to me. Those I can remember anyway." it annoyed me that I could not remember more, made me angry that everything suddenly seemed hazy and doubtful when I tried to remember my time Inside.&lt;br /&gt;Grae looked like he was trying to remember something "Interesting. I ... seem to have forgotten the names of everyone. Everyone but ... him. I am upsetting you," he observed.&lt;br /&gt;"Not as such ... I dunno. I just feel like there's this omnious shadow hanging over me ... but everytime I look up, it disappears. Like a bad dream. But I want to see it. Face whatever it is. I'd rather know it all than only a fraction."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. I understand. It never stops the world from moving, and we move with it, but there is an ever-present past following us ... So much unknown, so many monsters lurking in the back of our minds ..." he was loosing me again with his odd choice of words.&lt;br /&gt;"You really do talk a bit weird," I mumbled.&lt;br /&gt;"My apolo... I'm sorry," he tried "I find being with you painful because you are part of my past, though a part that I cannot remember. But I also do, truly, enjoy your company because we are ... alike. Facing me, to you, is facing your past. I understand if you feel uncomfortable around me."&lt;br /&gt;I tried a smile "I'm not uncomfortable. I just find your way of talking odd ... Old fashioned if you will." a thought suddenly came to mind, and I grinned at him, flashing my pointed teeth "Maybe I should start calling you father?"&lt;br /&gt;He just looked at me with a bewildered look.&lt;br /&gt;Damn, he didn't find it funny, I apologiesed "Sorry, that's wasn't a good joke? I'm trying to get the hang of this ... joke - humour - thing."&lt;br /&gt;He smiled, "I am not really one to advise you on the subject. I ... if you want to call me something, brother may be more like it."&lt;br /&gt;"I think so too," I agreed quietly.&lt;br /&gt;"I wonder how long time you ... were. I mean, how many times I have unknowingly passed you - if you were even in the same facility ..."&lt;br /&gt;"I've never seen you. If that's what you're saying. I didn't see Mist either."&lt;br /&gt;He was looking at the folder once more "Will we ever know? Everything?" he noticed quietly.&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe we're not supposed to know. Maybe we're just supposed to live our lives. Nothing more ... Wait," I replied, and then suddenly stopped walking "Someone's here. I can't figure out where."&lt;br /&gt;I could feel it, the distinctive murmur of someones thoughts nearby.&lt;br /&gt;Grae moved a little closer to me, I looked at him "Let's sit down. Maybe it's just someone who likes to walk down here ... it might be nothing." I sat down on a bench, quickly followed by Grae.&lt;br /&gt;I could smell a sweet scent, feminine and young. A tall girl came walking out of the shadows of one of the massive houses next to the harbour. Even in the darkness I could see the color of her hair, the color of dried blood. Her clothes and movement radiated feminine beauty. I couldn't help but stare a little, I hadn't seen that kind of clothing before. Layers upon layers of skirts, frills and veils.&amp;nbsp; She was humming softly as she passed us, not really looking at us. "Nice weather we have tonight," she said softly. I'm not even sure she was talking to us in particular.&lt;br /&gt;"Umm, yes," I mumbled, staring after her. "Weird ... She was really weird. Did you see her clothes?" Grae nodded "And so the present rudely reminds us of its presence," he noticed.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help but wonder about the woman, there had been something wrong about her "She smelled odd too," I mentioned, "I mean, not bad. Just odd. Conflicting ..." there had been something that had surprised me... but I couldn't explain what it was that had made me wonder so about her.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, but human. Very human," he added and looked after her, somethinr stirred in his mind. He was wondering how I did 'it'.&lt;br /&gt;"Do what?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;"I did not mean for you to hear that," Grae said, a little embarrassed. "Feeding. But you should not have to answer."&lt;br /&gt;"I do it quickly, in crowds, not taking much from anyone," I said with a shrug, "I can easily feed on six or eight people on a night. And ... then there is Maeve. They never notice it. He's the only one I feed on with care and attention ... This sounds weird."&lt;br /&gt;"No," he said. "Thank you. For your honesty. And for having found a way like that. For not allowing being what you are to turn you into ... I am speaking oddly again, am I not?" he cut himself off.&lt;br /&gt;"Erh yeah, you are," I replied with a smirk.&lt;br /&gt;"They did not ... use you for ..." he was back at the memory of Inside and what he had been made to do there. I wanted to stop his worry "I was made to find you," I simply said, shifting slightly "I have to go soon. I promised Maeve."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes of course. I should not keep you. Since ... you have fulfilled your mission and found me." he tried giving a warm smile, but it turned out a bit awkwardly, "Well, I did say I was not one to advise you on jokes."&lt;br /&gt;I grinned and bit my lip.I liked talking to my odd brother... it was nice to talk with someone who I didn't need to keep secrets from, Grae was almost like me.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I better go then," I said, "Do you want to come with me? I have tea if you like it."&lt;br /&gt;He smiled "I really don't. But thank you for the offer. I think this is enough, for now. I shan't prolong the farewell this time. But I would like to see you again, soon. If you ..."&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," I said before he got to finish the sentence "Then I'll go first, so you don't have to find the words." I began walking away from Grae and the harbor, towards the road. This had been a nice meeting... I hoped for it to happen again soon. I turned around and waved at Grae with a smile. "See you around ... brother."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," he agreed. "Please give my regards to Maeve."&lt;br /&gt;"I will!" I shouted and turned around again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely had something to tell Maeve when I got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:8763</id>
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    <title>In the middle of the night</title>
    <published>2006-10-09T22:28:54Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-09T22:28:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">My dreams turned into something horrible... the whiteness is no longer making me feel safe or secure. It's hard and cold and making me feel lost. Someone was screaming, and I realize it was myself. Why was I screaming? I looked down and understood why; blood, dark and red, pouring out of a gap in my abdomen. It was soaking my white clothes, running down to pool on the floor, staining my bare feet. I just kept on screaming, but no one came, and I couldn't move an inch. Then it was as if someone hit a rewind button and everything that left my body returned with great speed. Then it stopped, but my feet were still wet. No, not just my feet, my legs were wet too and then my thighs. Water was rising, strangely pale blue surrounding me, swallowing me. I lashed out, but I hit thick glass. I kept hitting it, trying to scream, even if there was a mask covering half my face.&lt;br /&gt;I started kicking and finally I heard something break. I hit it again and this time my fist went right through. The glass couldn't keep all this in in it's weakened state and it gave in, letting the water and me out. I fell hard to the floor. I needed to get away. I wanted to leave, but the wires and tubes were keeping me back, so I tor them over, but I still couldn't breath, I had to breath. I clawed at my own face to remove the mask and to pull out the tube from my throat. I  could hear feet running and people shouting behind me. Then pain shoot through me and I screamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maeve hit me. I blinked confused and tried to focus, my face hurts.&lt;br /&gt;He was looking at me in the darkness, concerned and a bit scared "You were screaming" he whispered.&lt;br /&gt;"I... bad dream" I stuttered, trying to shake of the shadows of the nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;My heart was still racing and for a second I was so sure that some of the dream had been real, my skin was wet. I licked my upperlip, but of course, it was sweat, cold sweat.&lt;br /&gt;Maeve fumbled in the darkness and took my hand "Come on... follow me" he whispered, pulling gently. I followed him, leaving the bed and the wet sheets behind.&lt;br /&gt;I followed him out of our room, down the dark hall. He was feeling his way forward, and I let him, even though I can see perfectly fine in the dark. He opened the door to the bathroom, turned on the light and brought me inside.&lt;br /&gt;There we stood, in the middle of the room, me looking at him strangely. For once I couldn't really read him that good, maybe it was caused by the dream, I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;He was pulling at my shirt, I frowned "Maeve, what are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;He looked up at me and smiled "You need a shower. It will help" he replied in a soft voice.&lt;br /&gt;I let him help me take of my clothes. I've never really had a problem with nudity, rutine check-ups were standard at Inside, so I had done it often. Still this was a bit different. This was not some doctor giving me a health check. This was Maeve... I can't explain it really.&lt;br /&gt;He turned on the water and pushed me into the shower. The water soaked my hair, making it cling to my skind. I closed my eyes and sighed a little I think. The water seemed to wash away the last fragments of the dream and made me relax.&lt;br /&gt;Slender fingers were touching me. I opened my eyes and looked at Maeve, standing there infront of me. I was about to ask him why he was in there with me when I saw the scars. I've never seen Maeve naked. He's always wearing big shirts with sleeves that are too long for him. He's always hiding his hands and trying to cover his face with the hair. But now I saw his skin for the first time. There were so many scars, criss crossing every inch of him. Small and big ones, making me think that they had been kept open, or maybe just been cut in more than once. The water had no easy passage down his body, as the scars led it on detours on it's way down.&lt;br /&gt;He smiled at me, pushing my hair away from my face gently.&lt;br /&gt;"Maeve, what are you doing? I," he shook his head slightly, placing a hand on my cheek "I know what I'm doing" he whispered "I've done this so many times. Trust me"&lt;br /&gt;His thoughts seemed oddly in focus, something that's very unusual when it comes to him.&lt;br /&gt;He ran his hands up my chest and stopped at my shoulders. I felt odd, not sure if I liked it or not. But it wasn't unpleasent, just something new to me. His slender fingers massaged gently, and I couldn't help but sighing. He really did know what he was doing. Whatever it was I was getting more relaxed as his fingers found the sore spots.&lt;br /&gt;"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, looking at me. &lt;br /&gt;"I'm ok" I felt stupid, giving him such a short and simple reply. But I wasn't sure what else to say.&lt;br /&gt;"You scratched yourself, did you know that?" he ran his figer across the right side of my face. It stinged slightly "but it's already closing up again. Grae made you better" I nodded, lost for words. He was right, but simply saying 'Yes'seemed foolish.&lt;br /&gt;"This still looks awful though" he said, affection clouding his voice. I flinched and looked down, until now I hadn't looked at it at all, refusing to accept it's pressence, even when it still caused me pain.&lt;br /&gt;The gap in my stomach had almost closed completely, but it was bruised a violent shade of dark blue and purple. I gritted my teeth at the memory of being impaled to the floor, while Markus was smiling above me.&lt;br /&gt;Maeves put his slender arms around me, holding me tightly "Don't ever leave me again" he mumbled.&lt;br /&gt;for a split second I just stood there, then I reacted and put my arms around him.&lt;br /&gt;"I won't" I whispered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how long we stood there under the showerhead, but when we finally did return to our room we were both ready to sleep at once. Maeve pulled off the sheets from the bed and grabbed the big fluffy blanket that he usually hid himself beneath when drawing and beckoned me to lie down.&lt;br /&gt;It felt nice to be cared for that way and after he had snuggled up next to me beneath the covers, I let him fall asleep first while gently tracing scars on his back with two fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a simple creature he is, and I just know, that I could never survive without him.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:8700</id>
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    <title>right this minute</title>
    <published>2006-10-09T12:48:43Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-09T22:29:57Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming all the time. Even when I’m awake, even if I’m in the café surrounded by customers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don’t really recall half of the dreams, but the color white is such a big part of it. Or should I rather say the absence of color plays a major part? I’m guessing I’m dreaming of Inside. It’s nothing special; kind voices speaking to me, asking if I’m alright. Fun games where my skills are tested, I was always good at them. But then I ask why I can’t play with someone else who’s like me, and they all say that there is no one else that’s like me. I can’t understand, there must be more like me, why else would there be so many of them, tall and with lined faces. They all look alike, but not like me, with my white hair and skin, and bright colored eyes. They’re all muddy compared to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I return to my games.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then Maeve or Bee gives me a gentle push and ask where I was going. I always give the same reply; “What do you mean? I wasn’t going anywhere. I’m sitting right here…” Maeve always looks concerned and questioning where as Bee smiles her warm smile, ruffles up my hair and says I’m a helpless dreamer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don’t know why I’m suddenly caught in these memories. They seem like childhood memories… but I don’t really remember being a child. Come to think of it, I can’t remember anything I did four years ago, and maybe that’s normal, but I can even remember any events at all, nothing. It’s a blank… it’s as if I did not exist. But that can’t be, I’m a grown man, and it takes time to grow up… even if I am… even if I’m not unique… if I am a clone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maeve is standing close to me as I’m writing this, surveying me and being concerned. He’s been like this ever since Grae helped me home. I try to make myself believe that all is alright. And in some ways it’s true. I’m happy to be home, happy to be near Bee again, the closest thing I have to what children call mother. I’m not sure if she knows my feelings for her… I hope she knows. It’s something I don’t think I could ever tell her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I try to tell Maeve that he should sit down and relax, but for the first time he will not do what I say. For some reason I’m proud of him, even if he is getting a bit on my nerves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead of going away, he steps closer and leans in over my shoulder, perhaps to read what I’m writing on my screen. He’s smiling a little and his hair is tiggling my cheek. I guess my written words are making him happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He gives me a gentle hug and whispers in my ear “I’m glad to have you home… my sun”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He lets go and goes to sit on the bed. I can hear his pencil touching paper… he’s wondering how to draw me…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’m going to post this now and go watch him draw instead.&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:8236</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ghostsjournal.livejournal.com/8236.html"/>
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    <title>ghostsjournal @ 2006-10-04T11:18:00</title>
    <published>2006-10-04T09:37:17Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-04T11:42:43Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;I dreamt. &lt;br /&gt;White walls and a bright light. The light was frightening me, I couldn't move, that's how scared I was. Someone was mumbling to themselves, talking about how much they liked this specimen. I cursed my own fear, but that did not make me regain my strength. &lt;br /&gt;Something blocked the light all of the sudden, something gigantic. I couldn't figure out what it was and desperately tried to move when the shadow plunged down towards me. Then it was gone, but instead pain took over. I tried to look down, see the source of my agony, and see it I did. A long thin spear was sticking out of my stomach, beautiful and terrifying. &lt;br /&gt;The dream changed. There was no spear, no bright light. But I still couldn't move. I opened my eyes. I was in water, or some kind of liquid. For a second I wondered how I was able to breath when I felt the tubes, and saw then. Something covering my mouth, something keeping my jaws apart so that a thick tube had clear passage into my mouth and down my throat. &lt;br /&gt;I moved but my knee bumped into a hard surface inches away from me. I tried to feel it with my hands. Glass, glass surrounding me, I tried to get my barings, figure out where I was, it was difficult to think.&amp;nbsp;To my right something was staring back at me. I recognized a face, the rough shape of a head, one perfect arm hanging lifelessly down, and a shapeless lump of flesh that you could hardly call human. Disgusted I looked to the left of me. It was like looking into a mirror, except that the legs of the creature in the tank next to me, were fused together in an odd angle. &lt;br /&gt;Someone standing in front of me were looking through papers while mumbling something about a perfect specimen. Words like "cultivating" and "purge" was mentioned, I didn't understand, and more importantly, I wanted to get out of there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up, confused and uncertain of my surroundings. A sentence kept replaying in my head "Make one more. Make it work" &lt;br /&gt;Maeve was sleeping next to me. His dreams were calm; he was in some kind of park, a cemetery maybe, looking at a slender man with long black hair, throwing dirt onto a fresh grave with a shovel. Didn't seem like the thing I'd like to dream about, but Maeve seemed to be calm. He sighed and curled up slightly beneath the blanket. &lt;br /&gt;I left the bed to sit at the window. The horizon was a pale purple while the sky was still black and sprinkled with stars. Morning was coming. &lt;br /&gt;I sat there and saw the sun rise. It was beautiful how the colors changed so slowly that I almost didn't notice it until the sky had changed from a deep blue to a warm pink hue.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;So many things have happened, over such a short span of time. There’s so many questions that I can’t find the right words to formulate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;Now that Grae is actually here, what should I do? There’s a tiny voice that wants me to do what I was told to do so very long ago, that I can go back Inside if I do so. But I don’t want to go back Inside? I cannot take Maeve with me. I would never see him, nor Bee again. They would probably make me forget I ever knew them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;There’s so many things just waiting to rise to the surface, but do I really want them to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;Should I make Grae my friend? Would he even want to be?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;And it seems that I have an enemy, someone I considered a close friend. I still can’t figure out why he did it. Why would he? Was it all just an act? It had to be, how could anyone plan what he had clearly planned, if not from the beginning, then at least days before even inviting me home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;How can I trust anyone, if my judgement of character can be that far off?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;Maeve was moaning in his sleep, those violent curls covering his face. I trust him, and I trust Bee, those two have always helped me. Maeve even saved my life by bringing Grae. And Grae, Grae helped me when he could just as easily have killed me in my state, it would have been so easy, and he’d lost one hunter (well, ex-hunter to be more exact) How could he know whether or not I’d attack him when I turned around? It was such a gamble on his part, and he even stayed when he could have left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;It must have taken an enormous amount of will power to have forced himself to stay when it was so obvious that the loft was the last place he wanted to be. Ok I think there is one place he’d even hate to be even more, but I’ll let that be a secret for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;So now I’m almost back to square zero again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;It’s not a bad place to be though; I’m back with people I didn’t want to leave in the first place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt"&gt;For once I feel at home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:8152</id>
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    <title>ghostsjournal @ 2006-10-02T22:15:00</title>
    <published>2006-10-02T23:14:32Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-02T23:41:25Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I lifted the glass and felt it's cold edge against my lips, the smell of his blood was sweet, dark. I drank it all in one go. &lt;br /&gt;"Thirsty, aren't you?" Markus said with one eyebrow arched elegantly above his bright eye. He took the glass from my hands and placed it back on the table. I gave him a smile as an apology. I felt a bit embaressed, him having been so close to, as he put it, taste me, and then I just sat there and emptied the glass like a greedy child. &lt;br /&gt;"Where were we?" he filled up our glasses with wine and handed me mine. &lt;br /&gt;I took it "..I'm... not entirely sure" I felt dizzy, and my mouth was dry. I drank a few sips of the wine, but it only semed to make it worse. The ceiling was spinning. &lt;br /&gt;"Ghost... are you alright? You don't look so good" &lt;br /&gt;I wanted to stand up, but I failed miserably in my attempt. I winced at the sharp pain as my head slammed against the marble floor. &lt;br /&gt;Markus sat in the sofa, looking at me with curious eyes. I didn't say anything to him, I couldn't find the words and something like "why are you not helping me?" seemed stupid. I felt kind of silly and was trying to get up again despite the feeling of a hot pain spreading from a a point in the back of my head, when white hot pain seared through my insides. Curling up on the floor I started shaking violently. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="ljcut" text="Read more..."&gt;This is where it gets more difficult to exlain... so bear with me, I will try to describe it as good as I can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember Markus just lying in the sofa, looking at me... studying me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...he was bending down next to me, pushing me... I didn't really care... the pain inside was much worse. &lt;br /&gt;"You amuse me, my little pet. You are so like me,&amp;nbsp;but&amp;nbsp;then again you're nothing like me. Just for the fun of it, let's see just how much of a vampire you are, or if you're just a silly human in disguise" &lt;br /&gt;I blacked out for a while. Not for long though... something broke through my skin, I woke up screaming, or at least attempting to scream, but no sound came. Someone was laughing, but I couldn't concentrate on the sound. I desperately tried to grab whatever it was that was sticking out of my stomach. My hands got hold of something slender and metal. I wanted to remove it, but something was pushing it further in from above. I finally opened my eyes and looked into the smiling face of Markus. &lt;br /&gt;"So you finally wake, sleeping beauty" he twisted the rod slighty and again&amp;nbsp; I had to squirm beneath him, trapped. I felt like a butterfly pinned down, waiting to be framed, just like the ones White used to have above his fireplace. &lt;br /&gt;There was a fireplace in the apartment too, but the tools were spread across the floor and the poker was burried deep in my abdomen. &lt;br /&gt;"I'm so glad that you want to please me, Ghost. Because you DO want to please me, do you not?" he laughed and with one violant move, yanked the metal out of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blacked out... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey! you don't just fall asleep when I've been pampering you all evening!! It's your turn to entertain me!!" a kick to the stomach did the trick and I woke again, coughing, tasting blood. It was getting difficult to breathe. &lt;br /&gt;He sat down next to me and brushed my hair away from my face "Listen, I'm very sorry to kick a man when he's lying down, but you're not a man are you? Humans would have died from that dose. The poison does not affect me at all, and you... " he smiled that wonderful flawless smile "you just seem to want to die, but your body keeps you going, prolonging the pain" I was&amp;nbsp;just staring into the ceiling, trying to breathe, trying not to feel&amp;nbsp;any pain. &lt;br /&gt;A finger dug into to wound he had made with the poker and I tried to hit him. Maybe, if I could just get up, get away from him, then I could get out, and away. I hated this place, I&amp;nbsp;hated the&amp;nbsp;bright walls and the fancy chandelier. I wanted to go to the loft. &lt;br /&gt;I hit nothing but&amp;nbsp;air, even if I had hit him it wouldn't have done much good. There was no force behind&amp;nbsp;it. &lt;br /&gt;I gave up. Simple as that. Every part of my body hurt, and I couldn't do anything. I don't think I've ever felt so weak. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darkness sorrounded me again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... something burning in my stomach, something forcing it's way up while my lungs felt like they were withering up. I couldn't breathe. &lt;br /&gt;I was twisting and turning, fighting to get up. I only got on all fours when when I couldn't hold it back anymore. Out it came, blood, vomit and the food from the nice dinner, all mixed into a stinking thick mass. I couldn't stop coughing and I could feel the blood coming up again. &lt;br /&gt;I my arms couldn't support my weight anymore and I fell back down into the filth on the floor. My hair was soaked in it. It didn't really matter. I couldn't stay awake. I just wanted to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone was dragging me by the collar. &lt;br /&gt;"No fun. Really, I did expect more from you Ghost. You are disappointing me." ...leave me alone. Sleep makes the pain go away. The words never left my mouth. &lt;br /&gt;"Well, at least you gave me a gift before you ruined my little game. It was a good gift, I thought you should know. I feel very good right now. You shouldn't drink so much though. I could taste it in your blood" A door slammed behind us and his foot steps echoed as we dragged me down concrete stairs. It took forever,&amp;nbsp;But&amp;nbsp;finally we arrived at the ground level, and Markus dragged me out into the night air. Not many people are out this late, or should I use the word "early" So he just dragged me along, across the street and down a slope. &lt;br /&gt;"This is where we part my friend. Maybe I'll see you again some night. Right now I doubt it, you dissappoint me so very much. Maybe the dose I gave you were too high. In that case, my mistake. But now I bid you farewell. Goodbye Ghost" he lifted me up as if I weighed nothing at all. This makes me wonder why he felt like he had to drag me, if he was so strong. Then he just threw me, like a discarded newspaper,&amp;nbsp;into&amp;nbsp;water, and it swallowed&amp;nbsp;me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how I got&amp;nbsp;back to the loft. I don't remember anything at all. I don't remember how long it took me, or&amp;nbsp;if anyone helped me, or if I hurt anybody. I don't know how long&amp;nbsp;I was "out". For a while I simply didn't exist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up with a start. A big black coat pooled in my lap. Someone was in the room with me. Maeve and... someone else. I tried to clear my head, but it was hard. I looked up,&amp;nbsp;and I just knew it as soon as I saw him&amp;nbsp;there, Grae. A &amp;nbsp;million things came to mind, but I only frowned and said "Grae ... I'm right, aren't I?" &lt;br /&gt;"Yes. Hello, Ghost," he was feeling silly, he might as well have screamed it at me, his thoughts were so loud. &lt;br /&gt;Maeve was sitting next to me, looking at me with big hopeful eyes. &lt;br /&gt;Grae seemed scared, of me perhaps. &lt;br /&gt;I sighed "You're scared ... of me." &lt;br /&gt;"No ..." &lt;br /&gt;"Stop pretending. You're like an open book," coughing made me bend over slightly. I was just waiting for the blood to flow, but nothing happened. &lt;br /&gt;"I ... I am scared," he said, "but not ... not of you." &lt;br /&gt;He handed me a bottle of blood without saying anymore. &lt;br /&gt;I took it,&amp;nbsp; but then hesitated, what if this was another trip to Painville? But I was too hungry. I drank it. &lt;br /&gt;Words raced through my mind, words that wasn't my own 'What should I say? What should I do? It has been a year since I learnt of his existence. He has hunted me and haunted me. And now .. ' &lt;br /&gt;"I have the worst headache ... so ... please stop thinking that loud," I said interrupting the roar of thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;Maeve tried to wipe my face, I had spilled some of the blood. &lt;br /&gt;Grae was staring at me with a mixture of disbelief and horror "What? You ..?" He was realizing that I could hear him thinking.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;"Yeah ... wonderful little ... gift from someone you know." I said. &lt;br /&gt;He was angry, upset that I was invading him like this. &lt;br /&gt;"I try not to ... not to hear people. Just sometimes it's too loud." I felt horrible. Every part of my body was aching, but it was a bliss compared to the night I spent with Markus. &lt;br /&gt;Grae was having an inner monologue again. There was so many things he wanted to ask me, and I just wanted him to be quiet. &lt;br /&gt;"Ask ... anything you like ... just not right now,"&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;said. It hurt to talk &amp;nbsp;"You do realise ... I wasn't looking for you anymore, right?" &lt;br /&gt;He looked at me "And I was not meaning to find you," he replied. &lt;br /&gt;"One question I will ask is; do you feel that you need anything? Do you feel that you need me to ... do anything?" He really wanted to help, despite his desperate wish to get away from me. &lt;br /&gt;"To get out of here. No, you've done plenty."&amp;nbsp; I looked at him. For a long time. He said nothing. But I saw flashes of what had happened, what I couldn't remember. &lt;br /&gt;He gave me his blood. I hit him. I tried to attack him. I only saw this for a split second, but it was enough, I had to apologize. &lt;br /&gt;"Ah ... sorry. For hitting you,"&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;He shooked hishead, "No. Do not be. I didn't expect you would remember." &lt;br /&gt;"I don't. But you do," was&amp;nbsp;my answer. &lt;br /&gt;He felt some kind of guilt "I.. I&amp;nbsp;apologise for intruding upon you ..."&amp;nbsp;he said. He was talking about giving me blood without my concent. &lt;br /&gt;"You didn't. I would not be awake if it wasn't for you helping."&amp;nbsp;I turned to Maeve, "Thank you ... my shadow." Maeve gave me a little smile. &lt;br /&gt;Grae looked tired, and I could feel his hunger. He hadn't fed at all while watching over me. &lt;br /&gt;I wanted to leave, he let me keep the coat that had covered me while I had slept. &lt;br /&gt;Grae&amp;nbsp;was trying to understand how I could live with hearing everyone around me all the time, I replied by saying that Maeve's thoughts were loud too, just different. &lt;br /&gt;Grae tried desperately not to think of anything, but as always when you try not to think about something, your mind digs even deeper. The name Lawrence popped up in his mind and I saw something ghostlike there, a lab coat... glasses. The name stirred something in me, something bad. &lt;br /&gt;"Lawrence," I began, and then stopped when I saw the panic spread in his face. This was something he feared more than anything. &lt;br /&gt;Maeve caught my attention by tugging at my sleeve, he was so worried about me. &lt;br /&gt;'Are you ok? You'll survive right?' his thoughts were unusually clear. I&amp;nbsp;gave him a tired smile&amp;nbsp;"Don't worry, Maeve" ... Yeah ... I'll live," I&amp;nbsp;assured him. &lt;br /&gt;Grae looked lost and unfocused. He was starving. Maeve must have seen it too, cause he stepped forward and offered his wrist to Grae "I won't mind ... and it doesn't hurt ..." he began. &lt;br /&gt;Grae was shocked "What?!" &lt;br /&gt;Maeve continued "Not like these ..."&amp;nbsp;he gestured to his scars. "You need to eat." &lt;br /&gt;Grae was upset&amp;nbsp;"I told you, I don't. And excuse me," he looked at me, "if I am just a little bit upset!" &lt;br /&gt;I couldn't be bothered, I was too tired to be angry and just said "Hmm ... We all have out own way to secure us, don't we?" &lt;br /&gt;He&amp;nbsp;snarled at me. &lt;br /&gt;"And don't play righteous,"&amp;nbsp;I added, "At least&amp;nbsp;Maeve accepts it. I don't really take a lot.&amp;nbsp;I wouldn't hurt him." &lt;br /&gt;"I am not ... I ..."&amp;nbsp;he was stuttering&amp;nbsp;"I don't judge anybody. I did not come here to change any of you!" &lt;br /&gt;"Ah ... right. So that wasn't an offended thought you just hit me with?" I was swaying. I felt drained. &lt;br /&gt;He grabbed&amp;nbsp;my shoulder "I am sorry." he said "I did not mean to ..." &lt;br /&gt;"It's fine. We argue before we even know each other ..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We need to go home ... to Bee," said Maeve. &lt;br /&gt;"Yes,"&amp;nbsp;I agreed. &lt;br /&gt;Grae was concerned "Will you be safe there? I&amp;nbsp;don't know&amp;nbsp;where it is ... Can you tell me? Or ... show me?" He was wondering if I could show him my thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;"I will. She never asks questions ... and I don't think anyone knows of her" &lt;br /&gt;Sorry,"&amp;nbsp;I added, "I can't. Share I mean." &lt;br /&gt;"It's not far from here," Maeve said and described the way to Bee's. &lt;br /&gt;As we were about to leave, Grae suddenly remembered a knife that he had locked in the other room. I didn't ask him why it had been neccessary to lock it in a seperate room, but only mentioned that I'd return to the loft with clorine to destroy any evidence of my prescence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left the loft, and I knew I would never spend another night there again. &lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how long it took us to get there, but we were all tired. &lt;br /&gt;Bee was home and let us in without a single question. A few seconds later I was lying in Maeve's bed, and I swear, nothing has ever felt that good. &lt;br /&gt;It took a long time to convince Grae to leave. Even with his hunger he still felt like there was something he ought to do, or say. But after what seems like a thousand goodbyes he left with the promise of returning another time. I fell asleep almost as soon as he was out the door.&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:7926</id>
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    <title>the beginning of the puzzle</title>
    <published>2006-10-02T14:33:52Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-02T14:33:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;I think I have a lot of explaining to do.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;So many things have happened, and I remember so very little of it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;I have met Grae. The source of my existence. My origin... of sorts. I...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;No. Let me try and piece together the fragments of events that's still stored in my memory.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="ljcut" text="Read more..."&gt;I was thrilled. Markus had invited me to his home for dinner. We talked so well that it grieved him to cut off our discussions so abruptly by the closing time at the library, he told me.
&lt;div&gt;I don't know, but I felt incredibly curious. Markus is such an interesting man, and I felt flattered that he took time out of his busy schedule to spend his evening with me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Maeve wasn't too thrilled when I told him about it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Maybe I seemed too happy. He didn't like that I spent to much time and thought on someone else.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;"So I bore you?" he whispered, looking at me as he sat in the corner.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;"Maeve. You know that you never bore me" &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;"But this Markus sounds so clever. He reads and travels... and I'm just me... I don't know anything. I'm not smart"&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;I looked at him. He was staring at his feet while drawings circles in the dust on the floor with his fingers.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;"My shadow..." I paused, allowing myself to see into him, reading his reactions. He liked my little nickname for him, and small happy sparks ignited in his mind.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;I continued "... Maeve. Friend. Markus is interesting and I do look forward to see him, but that won't change the fact that you are my closest friend, and the one I'd entrust my life with. Never think that I find you dull. Now, go home to Bee, I will see you in a day or two, ok?"&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;He took comfort in my words, nodded quietly and left.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Such an odd being. So very different from everyone else. Sometimes he seemed like the simplest of creatures, but I knew how complicated his mind was. My dear shadow, the one companion that would never leave me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Evening came and I found myself wondering why I was standing outside a grand hotel.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Markus came up next to me and gave me a warm smile.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;"Benjamin, my dear friend, welcome. I see you're confused. This is my temporary home" he smiled apologetically "It's convenient when you travel as much as I do" He led me inside and after retrieving a key card at the counter I followed him into an escalator that brought us up to the top floor.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;"It's just at the end of the hall. Come on, friend"&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;The apartment was enormous and beautifully decorated in soft, light colors. Compared to the tiny, dirty loft this felt like heaven.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Markus beamed “Go ahead and make yourself at home. This hotel has everything, and the food is delicious. What would you like to eat for dinner? I’ll order it right away” he handed me a menu that I didn’t really look at. I had no idea what the various courses were.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Markus caught my confusion and laughed “My dear friend. Let me order then, I know the menu by heart. I’ll be right back” he left the room and I decided on sitting down in a giant white chair that, when I sat down, almost seemed to greet me welcome. It was a nice change to the old,&amp;nbsp;mouldy mattress I use to sleep on.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Markus returned with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“You drink wine?” he asked, handing me one of the delicate glasses. I took it with a smile “It never hurts to try something new” I replied.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Too true, too true” Markus said and sat down in the giant sofa on the other side of the table.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“The food will be here soon. The service here is really good. But until then we can enjoy the wine and the company and have a little talk” &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;The wine was great. I really enjoyed the taste of aging in it. A warm, round slightly spizy taste.&amp;nbsp;I had no sense of time, we just talked and talked until dinner arrived and&amp;nbsp;we moved the discussion&amp;nbsp;to the marble table beneath the big chandelier where a thousand prisms sparkled and reflected the light.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;As the plates were emptied slowly and midnight came closer and closer I felt wonderful. Markus’s voice was warm and friendly and I don’t think I’ve had such long conversation. I felt like I could tell him anything, and I really wanted to tell him too. I wanted him to feel like I trusted him. Because I did.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Midnight came and went and we were back in the sofa discussing poetry when Markus suddenly stopped talking. He looked at me. I tried to read what it was he was thinking but I still couldn’t get through.&amp;nbsp;I gave up on trying and looked at my glass instead, the alcohol in the wine had had some effect on me, but I only felt slightly light headed as I placed the glass on the table.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Oh, no more wine. I’ll go fetch some more right away” Markus rose and in the process he knocked down my glass which splintered into tiny pieces.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;We both bend down and almost bumped into each other trying to pick up the pieces.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Sorry” I mumbled and leaned back. The fast motion had made me slightly dizzy and I took a deep breath.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Markus’s long fingers picked up the shards carefully and brought them with him as he went for a new glass and a second bottle of wine.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“There’s something I’d like to tell you…” I could hear him from the other room.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“There’s something I’d like to tell you too” I replied.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;He returned with the wine and an odd expression on his porcelain face. I couldn’t help smiling at the stupid words my mind used to describe him.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“I’m glad you’re happy, that’ll make it easier for me to tell” he said putting the bottle and my new glass down on the table. I waited for him to sit down, but he just stood there, looking at me with one hand in his pocket.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Markus, you seem so serious. What is it that you want to tell me?”&amp;nbsp;I was getting worried, but the effect of the wine was doing it’s best to keep me dizzy and slightly unfocused&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Ghost. I… I know what you are” I didn’t understand what he was talking about, and he could see it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Ghost, I’m telling you that I know that you are what most people would call a vampire. I know you feed on blood. Human blood at that” &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;I was shocked. I tried to object, but I couldn’t find something to say and all that came out was some half hearted stuttering words.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“I.. no, I’m no.. That’s.. really, but no…”&amp;nbsp;I looked at him, waiting for him to, what, attack me, run to the phone, anything. But he just stood there looking down at me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“So…” I tried to stay calm, since he seemed quite relaxed “what are you going to do now?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“This” he held out his hand and from the pocket he took something shiny, metal. I think it was a small blade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;In one swift motion he drew a red bloody line from his wrist into the air and a few drops landed on the table in front of me. I was staring at them as if they would eat into the marble until I realized he was letting the blood fill up my glass on the table. I still hadn’t moved and was staring at him, and then the glass.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Markus wrapped a handkerchief&amp;nbsp;around his wrist and sat down next to me. He held out the glass and smiled at me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Drink” he said “I want to share this with you. Something personal. Consider it a gift” I took the glass but still looked at him as if this was all going to stop and turn out to be a silly joke.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Call me silly” he continued “But I find it poetic. Romantic almost. But don’t worry, I don’t mean it like that” he laughed and leaned closer “What? You don’t like my gift?” I snapped out of it “No… I mean… it’s just. I never expected anything like this to happen”&amp;nbsp;he was leaning closer and I felt oddly intrigued by this man and his “gift” to me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;I was about to drink the blood, it cooled so fast, and cold blood doesn’t taste anything like warm blood does.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Wait…” I looked at him. He was sitting very close “What is it?” I felt more dizzy than ever and just concentrating on focussing “I… no this is silly”&amp;nbsp;he leaned back and look away.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“You what? Come on, tell me” didn’t he trust me? He looked at me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“I… I want. I want to ask you if I could… you know. I’d like to taste you” &amp;nbsp;he looked very serious and nervous at once. I only thought about it for a second. Thinking back on it now, I don’t know why I didn’t give it more thought. I want to blame the alcohol, but I think there was so much more to it than that.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“You still have the blade?” he nodded.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Then go ahead” I held out my wrist, but, maybe I was too slow, or just not paying attention. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my neck, and all I could do was look into the ceiling.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;It wasn’t like he was trying to hold me in a tight grip, or forcing me, I just didn’t feel like denying him this. In a strange way it felt good, and it was over too soon.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;He looked at me a wild glint in his eyes. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;“Thank you. Now, it’s your turn”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ghostsjournal:7314</id>
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    <title>ghostsjournal @ 2006-09-20T13:07:00</title>
    <published>2006-09-20T11:07:31Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-20T11:07:31Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I’ve been staying in the loft since I found him … I’m glad the people who live in this building has wireless internet, so that I can use my laptop here. It was a gift from Bee, she says that all young men needs a laptop these days, so she gave me her old one.&lt;br /&gt;He woke a few minutes ago, but only for a short while. I asked him if he was ok (stupid question, I know) if he needed a doctor, or food.&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t answer me, he tried to, but no sound came from his mouth… I think his voice dried out. (Sorry, my vocabulary isn’t the best, it’s difficult for me to explain)&lt;br /&gt;He shook his head, and turned over curling up on the floor shaking, as if he was feeling sick to his stomach… he put on a new face, and blood came from his mouth, dark, red and warm. I think this is how the floor ended up covered in it… it’s all his.&lt;br /&gt;His lips are turning blue and his skin looks so grey compared to the blood… I tried bending down close to his face, so that he could bite if he need to, without having to move. But he just stared at me without seeing me and… then fell into that heavy sleep.&lt;br /&gt;He never tells me about his… powers, but I know he’s not like other people, that he’s not like me. He’s so fast, and strong, I always thought he could survive anything, but now… he’s so weak and helpless. I think he’s giving up. &lt;br /&gt;I think… he’s dying…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Maeve</content>
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