Sam’s Journal Entry #23

[aquaace]

Kid!

My hands are shaking as I write this. I’m a shaken bottle of disbelief, giddy, and wary impatience. The thudding in my chest is going to wake the whole camp at this rate. I’ve taken the third watch for the night, so I’ll have time to calm it before I inevitably need to rest.

I have some apologies to make to you. The lack of details being one of them. The last few entries have been nothing but listed recounts and ripped pages admittedly. It wouldn’t be the first time I should have done it anyway I’ve been weak It’s no excuse [The writing becomes indecipherable as it’s scribbled out with apparent aggressive prejudice.]

Sorry.

When I started this journal, I promised I would do better to document. Whether it would be to guide you if I were unable to do so myself or catch you up if I am to survive this deal twice and am too exhausted to bear the journey thrice over. This isn’t for me. I failed to remember that.

There’s no excuse. I said it above, but I wanted to explain. I’ve always told you it’s alright to have reasons to not be where you want, and I have to apply that to myself here. Something is… wrong with me. More than usual, I guess. I’m not the spry adventurer I once was. This vessel has started to realize it’s empty. Slow but steady, my determination isn’t fueling my soul but feels as if it’s burning me from the inside to keep me going. There’s an unraveling to my joints that my muscles are trying to make up the difference for. My bones click like a skeleton, and my reflexes feel of that of a Ghoul. Delayed but feral regardless. It’s slowed me down day by day and, while it shames me to admit, worn on the flame that keeps me going. An unspoken time limit I didn’t see in the fine print.

I’m holding onto survival with both hands, Morey, I promise. I promise.
Should it try to leave it’ll have claw marks embedded so deep it won’t make it further than the palms of my hands.

But I’m not writing to tell you about my plans for last stands or ask for pity. My flame is burning hotter than the Hells right now and nothing could wear at it. Not the monsters that litter this land like vicious weeds, not a cult of misled beast folk with no individual thought worth arguing, and definitely not my failing and fraying body trying to stop me before I’ve hardly gotten started because I finally have good news.

My gut feeling was right.
I have a lead on a second coin.

All I have to do is collect and then I can free you.

Just a little longer. I’m almost there.

Hold tight, Kid. Love you.

S.R.W-C.

[Author]

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