Concerning the Young Man in the Woods...

May 9

Journal…I’m gonna be straight with you here…

I lied.

I chickened out again and didn’t tell Florina…

But, something rather…interesting did happen today, to say the least…

So, I was coming home from my classes (I know I haven’t been writing much about them, Journal but, can you blame me? I mean, I think this whole mess constitutes a bit more chronicling, as opposed to the misadventures of my classmates but, trust me, I will get you up-to-date on them later), bit tired, wanting to just get things done and go to bed (as par the course, for me), and, lo and behold…oh, do I even need to say it?

I walked in to find Feliciano collapsed on the kitchen floor, and blood on the tile (normally, I would be ticked at the fact that I just cleaned that yesterday but, the matter at hand was a bit more important…). Later, I would notice that there was blood on a dropped phone too…well, I did say that, if anything happened, to call…

Anyway, I sound calm here but, trust me, Journal, my reaction was similar to the first time I found him collapsed and bloody somewhere. That is, I screamed (slightly muted this time, didn’t want the neighbors to show up/call the cops, after all…) and nearly fainted on sight. Of course, nothing would’ve really prepared me for the next part (that’s right, Journal, it gets better).

You might recall, Journal, that about a week ago, I was freaking out because it appeared that Feli had multiple personalities (some of which I wanted to punch in the face, and/or pepper spray). Well, you know what? It happened again.

Now, as you might expect, Journal, I was not exactly calm when I saw one of the “personalities” take hold and stand up, not noticing me at first (a great relief, in a way). It was the bright blue-eyed one, whose name is Alfred, apparently. “Okay…that wasn’t fun…” he said, shaking his head “is there aspirin around here? My head hurts…”

At this point, I remembered that I had an unloaded gun in the drawer, and slowly made my way over to it…

You know the one, Journal. That one gun Dad gave me; the one to help ward off burglars and such…the one that I never bothered to load because I didn’t want to hurt anyone, and I didn’t really know how to shoot at all…yeah…that gun.

There was a quick shift to venom green (yay, adjectives!) “Alfred, you git!” (how is one personality British? No, seriously, how the hell does that work? Actually, I’ve noticed that everyone seems to have a slight accent…HOW DOES THAT WORK?! I’m no psychologist but, that just doesn’t make sense!) “Focus on the situation at hand! We need to figure out what happened to us!”

I’m sure they would’ve gone further, had I not interjected with a “click” from the gun and a lovely “WHAT THE FUDGE ARE YOU?!”

…except I didn’t say fudge…

I know, Journal, I’m sorry but, dammit! I this is a stressful situation and “What the hell are you” just didn’t seem to have the same effect! It’s serious business!

Anyway, that really caught their attention (I swear, if they start saying things like, “I am legion. We are many”, I’m getting the hell out of Dodge and not lookin’ back!) and, I was immediately reacted to by Alfred, who said “um…guess the lady of the house is back…”

Back to Bakura (What? Did you really expect me to refer to him as “Doctor Who”? You make me laugh, Journal. Hahahaha! Please, as far as I know, there has only been one situation in which the Doctor ended up swapping bodies with somebody, and that was in a side-story comic, thank you very much! Of course, it’s been awhile since I’ve watched the classics so, I might be missing something. And, for that matter, if a situation like this were in a newer episode, then I am sure that it would play out a bit differently. Also, I need to make myself laugh somehow.) “No, really? I hadn’t noticed! Blast…we probably need to explain ourselves now…”

At this point, I really had no snappy come-backs…of course, I very rarely have snappy come-backs until about a day after-the-fact so, I guess really didn’t matter as far as things went. Anyway, I simply responded “You sure as hell better explain.” My voice obviously shaking (who wouldn’t be scared to death in this situation? CHUCK NORRIS! Ha ha ha, but, that’s beside the point).

Unsurprisingly (it seemed like nothing could phase this guy!) Reginald Jeeves calmly sat at my table and gestured for me to come over, saying “If you would kindly drop the gun…”

Now, as you know, Journal, there was no way in hell I was going to drop that gun so, I only lowered it slightly, and slowly edged my way over to the table (trying not to think about how long it would take me to clean up the blood as I did…and also trying not to step in the stuff…).

“I guess that’s close enough.” He said, sighing before asking “Do you have any tea? I think we could both use a cup…”

Gilbert quickly took his place “How about booze? Particularly beer? Please, at this point, I’ll take the weak stuff!”

Which was quickly interrupted by Mycroft Holmes “Shut it.” He said curtly “Moving on. Now, we can only assume that you are not familiar with the situation”

No ****, Sherlock.

Oh, wait…I’ve decided that he was Mycroft, never mind…

Anyway, I managed to stammer out “J-just a-answer t-t-the q-question”

“That’s going to take while” was the rather curt response. But, he went on anyway, saying “Well, you see, we were involved in a certain…incident, involving a certain house in the forest, an extra-terrestrial creature of sorts, time-travel…”

At that point, Journal, I realized that I am in a Doctor Who episode…written by Steven Moffat…damn…

“The point” I said, still panicking on the inside, of course.

I never did hear that “point” from Arthur Dent there because the “connection” was failing again. Of course, with my (completely and utterly damnable) curiosity, I was incredibly disappointed that I did not really learn anything, aside from what I believe to be an unused Doctor Who episode premise (written by the Moff…). However, also, being myself, I panicked as Feliciano had another “attack”, and immediately grabbed a towel to try and stop the flow of blood (a plan that, when looking back on it, might not have been the best…).

So, that connection served nothing but to confuse me. Great. Absolutely fantastic.

As for Feli, he was none the wiser, of course. Part of me feels I should ask him about this but…I have a hunch he’d call me crazy.

Yes, Journal, I am stalling any further development in this case, despite my damned curiosity. But, can you really blame me? I mean, I can’t even fathom what would be going on here…maybe I’m dreaming…

…

No, the top fell, I’m awake.

Anyway, as I probably expected, he also freaked out about the gun, most likely thinking the worst (well, there was quite a bit of blood, a gun, and I had a bit of blood on myself too so...) but, I straightened it out quickly…well, relatively quickly.

Through various events in my life (read: news reports and movies…), I have learned that people don’t react too well to believing that they have been shot by someone they trusted…

Moving on though…

Due to his quick recovery, I only had to drag Feli back to the hospital for a bit…and then I realized that I had left the blood-stains on the floor…

So, when I got back home, I confined my guest to bed-rest (Gasp! I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it! I can rhyme any time!) and decided to clean all the blood from my kitchen.

Saying it took a little bit is the understatement of the friggin’ millennium.

Do you know how hard it is to clean blood-stains, Journal? It’s hard. It’s really, really hard. For some reason, blood doesn’t like being cleaned easily (I don’t know why, it’s something about chemistry, I bet…) and, it especially doesn’t like being cleaned once it dries…

And, I had to get it off the phone too…

I’ll have to call a professional…but…they ask questions…

Shoot…I’ll just have to keep scrubbing…

Wait…no…I’ve got it! I’ll call John; I mean I have his number, after all- might as well put it to good use. After all, he works at the hospital, I tell him that there was a bit of an…incident, ask what the best way to clean it is, and I’m good. Sounds like a good plan to me, Journal.

. . .

May 10

I managed to get the stains off of the floor…for the most part. Turns out it was a simpler fix than I had previously thought…at least, it seemed simpler. John was cool about it, of course, saying as he had seen me come in (again), and assumed that there was a bit of a mess involved…

But, onto the point, I still have no clue what’s going on here; and, frankly, I’m worried. Of course, Journal, that’s natural. It’s not every day that your tenant seems to be possessed by multiple God-knows-what’s, so, of course I’m worried! I mean, worst case-scenario, it’s demonic possession…or the idea that I’m insane and will probably be off to the cuckoo’s nest before I know it…either way, I’m quite royally screwed.

Best case scenario though, is that this is all an elaborate prank set up by Florina and co. to drive me absolutely bonkers…

…

Okay, probably not that; Florina’s pranks are intricate, yes but, they are (almost) never cruel…
The second-best case then would definitely be that Feli has some obscure, practically unknown illness/disorder/disease that causes his eyes to change color every time a split personality takes over…which causes him to cough up blood, apparently…

...Is that really much better, Journal?

I don’t know…he seems at least…okay though…

Which reminds me…
Remember that thing on the news from a little while back, Journal? About the odd illness striking all over the place? John was telling me about it today. Apparently, they’ve gotten a lot of calls reporting similar symptoms; some were false alarms…some…few…very few…

The point is, though nobody has died (yet), this is getting serious, and the nation is only a few steps away from a mass-panic. What’s worse is that the scientists and doctors still don’t know what’s happening; they have no clue, and people are still dropping like flies. I fear what the future holds, if this keeps going on…

I remember asking Florina about it a little while ago (sorry, I didn’t mention, I had more important things on my mind like, oh, I don’t know, the guy coughing up blood?! My social life tends to take a back-seat to things that completely and utterly scare the crap out of me) about the situation, and she said, and I quote (from my best recollection) “It’s a serious situation, and this is a weird case but, I have a feeling that this isn’t a physical happening…it’s only connected, not the base…”

What does that mean, Journal? I have no frickin’ clue. Florina tends to bounce from being “Peace, love, and hyperactivity” to “serious business”, especially when her job is involved (so that’s how she does it! Oh my God, I finally figured it out!). She’s just all over the place…I mean, I know she said that everyone “needs to be silly once in awhile” but, it’s such a drastic change with her…
I need to talk to her.

I swear, Journal, tomorrow, I’m going to talk to her tomorrow…because it’s late and I know she’ll kill me if I wake her up…or interrupt something she’s watching…either way, really.

Let’s just hope she can actually help me out here…

Oh screw it, I can face certain death if it means figuring this out (damn my curiosity, for all time!). I’m gonna call her, Journal, I’ll tell you what happens tomorrow.

. . .

May 11

Okay, I’m alive.

Just…I wanna get that out of the way first. Thankfully, Florina’s movie had just finished (“too much coffee…” she said “can’t sleep…so I’m re-watching all of my favorite movies” “How’s that workin’ out for ya?” “Just finished all of the Lord of the Rings films…” “In a row?” “In a row.”) and she was willing to talk (the aforementioned coffee ensured that she would be wide awake.)

Moving on though, I had asked her exactly why she had drunken so much coffee that day (as you know, Journal, Florina’s more of a café mocha type of gal; she doesn’t consume a lot of caffeine, on a regular basis). The answer was simple: research. She had been researching some stuff all day (she didn’t clarify what), and had to keep her energy up…since one in the morning…wow, Florina…and she was still up?! How much did she drink?!

So, knowing that she was at full attention, I spilled my guts.

Surprisingly, Florina was near silent throughout the whole thing, save for few and far between questions. After I finished the story, she told me to hang on for a moment and that she’d put me on speaker. In the background, I heard a lot of paper shuffling, moving around, and, after what sounded like a rather painful “THUNK” and more than a few curses, some of which I assume to be foreign F-bombs she most likely picked up from the internet…

Anyway, after that, she came back to the phone, asking “can you hear me?” and the usual. From here, things got interesting. “Listen, AJ, as you know, I’ve been doing a bit of research on some stuff that might help me out during sessions. What you’re describing can’t just be a split personality disorder; I believe it’s something else entirely. What that something is, I don’t know but, I’m determined to figure it out here. Trust me, I’ve worked with split personalities before, and what you’re describing doesn’t sound like anything neither myself, nor my colleagues, have dealt with before.”

Now, while I would awfully like to say that she was exaggerating, I have a very bad feeling that she wasn’t, Journal. But, wait, there’s more!

“I’ve collected some stuff, and I need you to see it so, could you please come over on the twelfth? Like one o’clock or so? I’ll have everything set by then.” She paused for a moment “Oh! That reminds me, bring those sketches, alright?”

Of course, I accepted, saying that I would go and see what she found, that I would bring the sketches, and all of that (after telling her that she should probably get some sleep first, to which she drowsily replied “I don’t need sleep, I have coffee!” yeah…’course you do…).

So, basically, tomorrow, I’m (hopefully) going to get some answers…hopefully…

And, just so you know, Journal, nothing really monumental happened today. Same old, same old…I’m hearing more reports of this “epidemic” as time goes on, though…

I wonder what it all means…

May 12

Okay…so…Journal…things have started to get…interesting…

Now, as you know, today was the day that I was supposed to go over to Florina’s place and try and piece things together. Well, I went, and, needless to say, I learned a lot more…for the most part.

That is to say, we took at least one small step forward to solving this whole big mystery thing.

Allow me to explain, Journal. I’ll start from the beginning.

So, I had made my way to Florina’s place, the sketches safely stored in a folder (right under my guest’s nose too, a fact I am sure will make me feel guilty later but, has yet to do so), and arrived at one o’ clock in the afternoon, as she had asked.

Of course, when I got in, I was surprised by two things.

One: SHE CLEANED! Florina actually cleaned for once! As you know, Journal, her place is usually very cluttered and messy but, she actually cleaned! Needless to say, my mind was blown.

And, two: guess who showed up? You have three guesses, Journal. If you answered “John Thompson, the paramedic guy”, you were right, and win a free car!!! But, seriously, Journal, by that point, I thought he was stalking me. Of course, he’s not, Journal but, you get my point.

So, after clarifying to me exactly why some random medical guy was called over, Florina led me over to a simple table, which already had stacks of papers and books on it (I swear, that thing looked like it was gonna break any minute and, apparently, shortly after both John and I left, it did!).

“You two are probably wondering why I called you hear today…” she began, slowly spinning around in a swivel chair (why do I have a feeling she’s been wanting to do that for a long time?).

“Actually, we know exactly why you called us…” John said weakly, not exactly catching on to her reference (in all truth though, I can’t remember what she was referencing in the first place…)

“DON’T INTERRUPT!” Florina interrupted dramatically before settling down and becoming serious. “Anyway…we all have one thing in common here…Feliciano…”

Well, that was the truth…for me, at least. At the moment, I had no idea what John had to do with anything. But, we’ll get to that soon enough…

“Yes, now, to begin…please place your pieces of evidence on the table, besides mine.”

I set the folder with the sketches on the table, and John set down a folder, containing medical reports. Compared to Florina’s whole piles of papers and books, it seemed a pretty scant contribution…

Florina decided to go first.

“Now, I have heard rumors but, rumors don’t make for good research so, I decided to dig a little deeper into them…well, most of them.” She pulled out a rather thick packet of papers from the middle of a stack “there have been no other reports of what AJ has reported but, I did find a fascinating little legend about that house…”

Yes, Journal, you can start playing the mysterious tinkly bell music.

So, she went on to explain this, admittedly, really creepy legend about this one soldier guy who escaped to an abandoned house in the forest, and, feeling guilty about the deaths of his companions, who had died in a rather bloody battle, which Florina spared no detail in describing (note: this apparently happened some several hundred years ago, around the Civil War, I believe), and became obsessed with the idea of traveling back in time to rescue them.

He read book after book on the subject, and even delved in the “dark arts” in desperation. Eventually, he began to forget what he was even trying to go back for, only remembering his research, and of the house he was in. Soon after that, madness consumed him, and he became a monster (most likely due to the whole “black magic” thing)…but, he had finally succeeded. From that point, the now-monster, driven by insanity (they always are, aren’t they?), decided that anyone foolish enough to come to the house with company, would be forced to go through an endless cycle of trying to save their own companions, eventually becoming monsters themselves. He dubbed any poor sap who would agree to “play” the “game” Ryuzuu (why? I don’t know; Florina didn’t really expand on that).

“Now, I’m not saying that this is necessarily how it went down but, it sure seems oddly applicable to our little “patient”, doesn’t it?” she finished.

Okay, Journal, I know what you’re thinking “That’s ridiculous!” and “How did you remember all of that?”

For the first remark: yes, I know…but it’s so eerily similar to what we’ve been hearing…

And, for the question: I’m paraphrasing. Florina likes to tell long and graphic stories. It’s why nobody ever let her tell scary stories back in girl-scouts but, you know that, Journal.

So, anyway, there was a bit of awkward silence before I interjected, asking “So…what else did you find?”

She then went on a very, very long and detailed explanation on various other legends she had heard through her research, which I will most certainly not transcribe here, Journal, as I can’t even paraphrase it.

When Florina had finished, she took my folder and pulled out the sketches “which brings me to these!” she said, laying them across the table. “Now, let’s think about this for a moment, shall we? Feliciano went to the trouble of filling in colored details to these…why? He obviously knew these people so, why isn’t he talking? He couldn’t’ve killed them; I’ve done enough observation to know that he didn’t. However, he keeps talking about “lost friends” and, I think that these are them.” She let that sink in for a moment, before adding “and, if the legend is true, then he’s trying to remember them!”

…that seems quite likely, actually, Journal…believe it or not…

But, moving on, she then asked me to explain what I had seen with the “split personality” thing, and how the main changes seemed to be in the eyes, and way of speaking. So, of course, I explained all that I knew about the subject (which, admittedly, isn’t that much, after all). She then pointed to John “Your turn!”

He laid the medical papers on the table, explaining about how he had been on the team responsible for getting the “patient” safely into the hospital, and that his specialty was in taking blood samples from the knife, the journal, and Feliciano himself. “The funny this is this, really…” he said, pointing to a specific bit of information on one of the pages “he lost a lot of blood from the “incident” but, when I went to take tests again, he seemed to have regained the amount lost! What’s even stranger is that the wounds we saw had all but vanished the next time.”

“Then why didn’t you keep him for testing?” I interjected.

John paused for a moment, obviously trying to craft a good answer “…well…if you were pretty much traumatized to the point of near-death, then I don’t think you would want to be having needles being constantly jabbed at you either.” He said bluntly.

That was a valid point, Journal, don’t get all snarky on me!

Either way, John continued on, stating about how quickly Feliciano seemed to have recovered, and how odd it was that the blood on the knife didn’t even seem human. However, there was one more…interesting piece of information he had “One time, when I went to check on him, shortly after you brought him over, I could’ve sworn that I heard him mumbling something about “Alfred, you git! Help me wake him up!” followed by “Never mind, it’s no use, there isn’t that strong of a connection, if he were awake then-” before being cut off by a hoarse cough. There was no blood that time but, it’s still pretty strange…”

That’s when it hit me: this whole thing…it’s much bigger than I had thought before. I mean, it feels like something out of a movie, Journal. A very weird, shoe-string budget sci-fi indie movie but, never-the-less, a movie (at least we’re better than Birdemic…). It’s just kind of freaky, this whole…situation. I mean, if, and I do mean if, this whole thing about the house and stuff is true, then it just opens up a whole ton of new questions; and John’s contribution about the blood loss/regain didn’t help matters either. If that is true, then…then…is Feliciano even human? I mean…he could be a Time-Lord…except they all kinda died…except one...

…

Shut up, Journal, I can dream.

Anyway, the following conversation was more observations and theories than anything, and I won’t bore you with the details. The point is, I’m freaked out, and still completely and utterly confused.

Everyone else is too actually…I guess we’re all stuck with this then…

Hm…maybe, if I’m lucky, the “connection” will last longer next time there’s an “attack”, so I can get some more information…

I am a horrible person for saying that, Journal, I know but, it’s a necessary evil…