This belonged to my Dad.

I picked it up when we went home the second time, it seemed appropriate to post it right now. The words say "Saint Christopher Protect Us." Sorry for the shadow, the flash just made the entire thing shine like it was a Christmas tree.

Joel, after my family died... He did the right thing and called the police about it from a payphone nearby. Saying that he'd found my family dead and hung up. Well, they are still dead, but as far as what happened to them... Carbon Monoxide...

Either way, I just spent the rest of the afternoon in a police station, answering this Detective Inspector Stroud's questions along with Joel. We'd planned before, gotten something in place.

The thing is, he was asking questions I would expect from a murder investigation... Like, he was seriously grilling me about it...

"Where was I when they died?" I was at Joel's house. (Meeting Joel in the park.)

"What was I doing?" I can't remember, sex most likely. (Talking about how I needed to head home again...)

"What about after?" I was going to introduce him to my parents, still hadn't come out to them and wanted his support. (I went home to pick up a few things and get taken by a freak with a knife.)

"Why did you run?" I couldn't stay there, I saw everyone dead and I just ran. (I spent a week getting beaten, bruised, broken.)

"How did you hurt your finger?" I don't remember, the week after that is just a blur, we just travelled. Anywhere there was a bus. Joel looked after me when it happened though. I... I dislike hosptials. (That was a half truth: I remember too well what happened, but there are times the fog just made me completely out of it, like blurs in my memories.)

Then he stopped the tape, looked at me straight in the eye and said: "This is the third one in two years. Far more have happened in America. I can't tell you who I work for, but we are on the same side... Tell me what happened, exactly."
So you're not a DI?
"Nope."
 I can't tell you anything... That's how it works... If I tell you, or help you discover him. You and yours are at risk...


He smacked the desk. "They ALL fucking say that! I don't care if it's some ghost of christmas past come back to murder people. What is done to them is beyond the capabilities of a normal human." At this point I had pushed the chair back away from him, scared, whilst he stood and rounded on me. "So you had better tell me. I am not in the mood for games."
You know it's supernatural?
"Yes I know it's supernatural."
Then you should know that you are out of your depth. All I know is that I stumbled across this picture and I met Joel, and almost everything since then has been terrible. I don't know anything much... I lost my finger to one of His minions and I am far more terrified of staying trapped and unable to run from him than I am of you. The best way of preventing it is for me to keep my mouth firmly shut.


That seemed to sate him and I was released from their custody. I compared notes with Joel, he had a similar experience with another "Detective Inspector..."

But who are these people? MI 5? MI 6? What about MI 1? I don't know, and I don't think I want to know. If they are here then it's a good thing. But at the same time... If they're flummoxed by this, I can't say we're going to fare better.

So yes, today was both an incredibly good day, and an incredibly confusing/annoying one. But perhaps We're not the only British runners, or maybe they are all dead. I just don't fucking know. Either way, I'm determined to go to the beach again tomorrow, make a proper day of it without getting dragged into all of this shit. I want us to have fun, enjoy ourselves.

The fog in my brain has cleared, I'm going to get some sleep.

~ Lucas