Minneapolis: Behind the Veil

S1: E3
Lucas' Journal

Things have definitely picked up. I’ve seen some crazy shit in my short life, but vampires and demons? Jesus. No wonder I drink. If I told John about this he would have me hauled away into rehab immediately. Fuck. I feel bad that he takes my father’s responsibilities onto himself. He doesn’t deserve my troubles piled on top of his own. He has grown children and a wife already to deal with. His children turned out wonderfully. His daughter is an attorney in Minneapolis and his son works in business of some kind out in California. He is going to be a grandfather soon. His son’s wife is just about to pop apparently. Yet here he is chasing me around, bailing me out of jail and dealing with my vices. Like everyone who cares about me he deserves better. I wish he would understand that every speech he makes, every time he scolds me and reminds me of my failures he only grows my own guilt over not being able to save her. I see the man I have become. I feel my edges folding in. I’ve felt it every moment since the night she died in my arms. I cannot let it go. She is in my dreams whenever I close my eyes. In my stupor I sometimes see her, laughing in front of me; wearing that crooked grin while she cooked for me in the kitchen. I don’t recognize the man in the mirror anymore. Part of me died with her and the more he tries to pound at me to find it scratching beneath my shell the more my bruises only spread wider and deeper in my psyche. I wish I could come out of this, I wish I could find the man Alice knew. This is all that is left. Just me and the mess I’ve created.

Quinn is a demon, they say. Well, I guess she says too. Who am I to argue? I have to admit I never would have guessed with her quiet demeanor. I would have expected something more…feral, I suppose. Still I can’t deny what she did during our scrape in the old meat factory. If weren’t for her power we were headed for an unhappy end. My plan didn’t work out so well with our prisoner, but I’m not feeling like myself since my probation kicked in. Two fucking years? Total bullshit. Fucking Hedstrom. If he just left me alone we wouldn’t have been at such a disadvantage. The lumberjack is growing on me. He has a simple honesty about him that I like. Talking to him is uncomplicated. Jessie is kind of a snob. He always knows better in hindsight. It’s infuriating. If you have a plan then speak up. Anyone can point out flaws, but it isn’t helpful. Fucking internet people should stick to their cats and trolling. He has talent, but no people skills. Vision is, well, still a bit of a mystery. I wouldn’t trust her alone in a room with my wallet or cell phone, but she comes through when the shit hits the fan so as long as I keep an eye on her everything should be fine. She’d probably clean out my medicine cabinet, but she wouldn’t leave me to die. I can live with that. Father John is a trying man. We were totally unprepared for our encounter with the Vampires. Isn’t he supposed to mentor us? Three machetes and a slap on the ass isn’t really what I would call preparation for taking on ancient evil. That is the last time I count on his expertise. From here on out I’m not going to get caught with my pants down, well not figuratively anyway.

We learned a lot about ourselves. More importantly we learned about the waters we are wading into. We better learn to swim fast or risk drowning in the current.

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S1:E1 "Pilot" - Quinn's Journal

This body is uncomfortable and Quinn seems edgy about the prison stay. The symbiotic agreement we have is awkward. I feel like an overcharged ion, and this vessel doesn’t feel like it can contain me. At times it’s hard to say if my thoughts are completely my own as Quinn is struggling to get her bearings as being only a sub-conscience in her body now. I can tell this is difficult for her, as it is for me, being she is the first human I have possessed. My time in Hell gave me great insight into fear and pain, but other feelings elude me.

I am working to understand these crazy emotions humans have. They seem to be fueled by them. This group I have now found myself a part of is full of reckless decision making which is exciting. Lucas’ seems to be a catalyst the others are drawn to follow; even though his drug use and snap decisions can lead them into serious danger. Vision is a curious creature, I wonder if she believes what she has convinced others about her. She seems to be confused most of the time. The father is a troubled soul who has a healthy bloodlust which I can respect. He seems less pious than his counterparts. Jesse is as smart as he is devious, and I find him extremely entertaining. Then there’s the lumberjack. He appears to be the most “normal” human in the group, yet, I feel.. drawn to him as a mouse is drawn to cheese in a maze. This is bothersome, but he has a nice ass, ya know.. for a meat-suit.

The last few days with the group have been eventful, but It’s obvious we are far from being a well-oiled machine. The humans seem to be struggling to find their purchase in the hunter cell. I believe Quinn’s experience as a nurse is going to be rather beneficial as I know one of them is probably going to get maimed at some point. Tonight was a fine example of their rash decision making as Lucas and Hammer’s ill-timed gunplay has landed me in a cell; I’m not used to being the one who is restrained. When the sirens neared I decided to stay behind rather quickly. I wanted to see which ambulance was going to pick up the ring-leader that Lucas shot. Hopefully he’s not dead, I’m going to enjoy having a few words with him. Tuttle better get me out of here quickly. He seems to be useful enough, but it appears that the father has some friends in pretty low places. I’d rather not be stuck here to deal with Detective Flinn. That guy is an asshole.

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S1:E1 "Pilot" - Rebekah's Journal

Rebekah Shitslinger Abedon. What a mess you’ve gotten yourself into now. Why didn’t I run? Actually, why did I stop running and go back? My feet are killing me. This holding cell smells like a puppy mill. Bah. Such foolishness. I suppose I didn’t want to leave that kid, Quinn, (I know she’s not a kid, but she’s still young—all of them are) alone to the police. I don’t know what I thought I was going to do to help her; of course they were going to separate us right away… I’m losing my marbles these days.

Anyway, Quinn, poor girl, she was just trying to do the right thing, refusing to leave the stupid creep who got shot, and the cops have no sympathy for people who are just trying to do the right thing. They want to force everyone else to obey the same cowflop rules they’ve bought into. No nuance, just bland off-the-back-of-the-box rule-following. I was just about Quinn’s age when the cops first hauled me in. So naïve. They prey on that innocence and youth. They play to their image as the “good guys” and you think that if you’re good, too, they’ll see it. It’ll all work out fine. They let you sink yourself. They’re counting on you to be naïve, to trust them and to not know their tricks. I used to be good. Or at least, I used to try. Didn’t get me very far.

Inspector Hardass wasn’t buying what I was selling him tonight. Cops usually don’t; not really surprised. …I let it slip (sort of, they already knew it) that Lucas had a gun. I can’t believe I fell for their malarkey. I know better than that, offering up answers to questions they didn’t ask. Christ, I’m too old to play the little air-head, and I’m not old enough to go full bore crazy cat lady. What am I doing here? I’m not getting paid; I’m fraternizing with people who neither like nor trust me—nor should they. I should be tending to my website and my Ebay shop. I should be charging obscene markups on fucking haunted dolls to idiots with too many resources … But there’s something terrible going on here. Mrs. Gravely didn’t dissect herself when I went to “visit” her the other night. Poor dear lady, she didn’t deserve that—NO ONE deserves that. And the strange runes and the mysterious deaths around Swede Hallow, maybe it’s just a psychotic murdering asshole, purely human and nothing more, but we actually had an opportunity to stop it. To do something, I don’t know, meaningful. Maybe that’s why I’m here: Yeah, I’m a shyster, and I take people’s money for feeding them lines of bunkum that they desperately want to hear, but I aint evil. And maybe I’m tired of being a shit bag all the time. Glory, I think I just need some sleep

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S1:E1 "Pilot" - Lukas' Journal

Well fuck. Once again I see I should have used better judgment in the moment. I hate these county cells. Surrounded by dickwad wannabe bad boys, drunks and junkies puking in the corner. It reeks of taint in this place. The funny thing is I don’t know who is more incompetent most of the time, the prisoners or the jailers. This time my transgressions may actually stick, believe it or not. We will have to see what this slick attorney the priest hooked me up with will be able to pull out of his ass. I may have to call Captain Hedstrom and curry a favor out of him. He was my old man’s partner on the force for fifteen years. Just thinking about what I would owe him in return for this makes me shudder. He is a good man, too good actually. He will expect some altruistic deed out of me that I don’t have time for. Well, he will expect that after he berates me for not joining the force for the thousandth time. I know he feels responsible for me since the old man got killed in the line of duty, and I appreciate it, but he should know by now that I have turned from that path and my reasons why. He met Alice. He knows what I lost.

You would think that sitting in jail would shut some of these fuckers up. Some people never learn, like Hector who is now quiet on his bunk. Guy wouldn’t leave me be. I warned him more than once. Stupid fuck thought a pretty boy like me needed to be taught a lesson about being a man. Now he is going to have to learn how to fill out an insurance claim for dental work if he wants to chew food again. I knocked four of his teeth out rather than warn him a third time. At least I have one side of the room to myself now. Even the junkies are staying away.

I wonder what happened to the rest of the group last night. I saw Rebekah and Quinn get arrested with me. I was surprised, I thought that snake oil salesman would be the first to run at the sign of trouble. Instead it was that hillbilly woodsman and our fearless leader. Can’t say I blame them. If my car hadn’t been up there I would have ran too. This isn’t the first time I have been in a holding cell, but that doesn’t make this a comfortable experience. I much prefer my bed or the sweet scent of Olivia’s. Jesus, that poor girl. I bet she bails me out of here again. I wish she would just walk away, it’d be better for her without me anchoring the life she’s living into the muck of my own. She deserves better. Shit, she could have any man she wants. She wasn’t even in the sex industry when she was taken. The poor girl was an actress lured to a fake audition. She thinks I am her savior, but if she had met me before she was dragged into that pit she wouldn’t have given me the time of day.

I’m not quite sure what we experienced at the park, but I am sure there is some reasonable explanation for it all. I saw the white flash and ghostly form, I can’t deny that. Still, there is no way that was an actual ghost. Those high school kids were probably just fucking around. My guess is that guy was their dealer and they were hanging in the park rolling before hitting a nightclub somewhere. I can’t believe that lumberjack filled his shells with rock salt. I guess they trade brains for size when they grow kids up north.

That nurse seems like a good sort, I’m probably alright with her story. I don’t know about the other woman, “Vision” she calls herself. She isn’t one I would turn my back on, well not outside the bedroom anyway. Whatever this is I got myself mixed up in, at least the ladies I’m crossed with are easy on my eyes. Better than staring across the desk at old Frank. The guy may be one hell of a detective, but he’s about as pretty as a bulldog on a hot afternoon.

Well, here I am and I can’t do much about it now. I should be arraigned in the morning and by tomorrow I should be out on bail. I’ll talk to that lawyer and call the Captain to see what can be done to make these charges disappear. It should work out, now that I think of it. I guess I have had worse scrapes than this. It always works out in the end.

Fuck, I could use a drink.

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