Vincent


This is an excerpt from a diary of unknown origin. The location of the diary itself, sadly, is unknown, as this was only a page ripped out from said diary. The page itself does give some precious information to our cause, though, and should suffice for now.

I can still remember it clearly. I still remember how you were standing there amidst the snow. I can still remember everything that happened back then. It was night time, and everything was serene. There was a full moon out, and the stars were bright that night. And you were there, on top of that hill, just looking at me. You were there with snow on your eyes and you were just looking at me. You were looking at me with your hollow eyes, I can still remember that. You were standing there, and yet I could hear you calling me. I could hear you in my mind, whispering to me. "Vincent, Vincent, come 'ere, I have something for ya.", you'd say to me. I'd say "No.", but then I'd see you just standing there with that razor grin of yours and I'd be walking towards you.

I don't know how it happened, really. Frankly, there was something about you that I couldn't explain. And I hated you for it. I loathed you with every fiber of my being for that strange enigma that you exuded unto me. That sense of... emptiness, I guess. I just couldn't resist being drawn to you, hearing your voice, telling me these things. These things that changed me forever. I wanted to kill for you for it, but I can't.

The moment you told me, I didn't understand. I don't want to understand. I wanted to ask you what it meant, but you disappeared as quickly as you came, if you did come at all. And you left me, on that starry starry night, alone and cold. What a heartless bastard you are. All I could do now was go home, and think. I went home, and I thought. I thought about what you said. I even asked my friends about it, but they had no clue either. I figured they were useless in my quest to understand, and so I paid no mind to her. After what seemed like weeks of endless thought and contemplation, I realized the mistake I made. And I did that. I'm sure you know what I did, you bastard.

You were there.

Yes, I knew you were there. I could feel you when they tried to kill me. I knew you were there. You were there when I had first strike on the first assailant, and I know you smiled when the rest ran away. I can see your grin as I subdued my attacker, and I can never forget that smirk you had when I got my knife and cleaved his throat. I heard you laugh while I was busy skinning him dead, and it was all I could hear once I realized what I just did. Then you stopped. Why did you stop? Were you giving me this moment for my lament? You know I can't be sad at what I did. You were mocking me, you bastard. I hate it when people mock me.

But I looked at my attacker's body again. It really was my wife, no doubt. It was my wife, all of it; except her eye. Well, maybe it was, but it certainly wants me. So I took it. I took her eye and it talked to me. It told me about what it needs. The Eye... it wants more. The Eye wants its friends. The Eye... The Eye wants it all. And I understood.

I also understood what you said to me back then. I understood what it all meant, why so many must perish, but I understood. It probably cost me my sanity, but I realize that there is nothing I can do. I must do it. I must do what you said. What The Eye said. They must be set free. They must come together.

I understand that now.

But, I must ask, why did you do this to me? Tell me, you empty bastard! Why must I understand? Wh

The page ends here.

Categories: | Those Who Seek |

Last modified on 2009-04-04 06:18:26Viewed 3934 times

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