What heck was my great-grandmother doing with this stuff, if it was hers?
The first journal entry was short but it was better than staring at foreign language. I pulled the book close to my face and read carefully.
"April 24, 1900
They're everywhere.
I don't know how they keep finding me but it's becoming a burden that I can't deal with. My blood is abnormal, I know that, and I wish I could fix it but I haven't figured out how yet.
I'm still trying but I'm afraid there's not much I can do. These... Abominations are tracking me down 24/7.
I ran into a Freelancer the other day who said he might be able to help me. I heard these were one of the few groups of good supernaturals still around. But albeit my suspicion of everyone I come in contact with now, I feel like this man was my only hope at escaping my pursuers.
It's now or never, I pray that I make it out alive.
-Eliza"
My confusion grew once I was finished. Suspicion and shock began to bubble up inside.
Abominations? Abnormal blood? Freelancer? Supernaturals?
Either my grandmother was very drunk when she wrote this or she was on some kind of medication.
I flipped onto the next entry.
"November 6, 1901
I haven't updated in awhile. But that's only because I'm ashamed at what I have done.
The Freelancer who succeeded in helping me escape the Abominations, stuck around afterwards. I became too attached to the handsome lad, though, and am sorry to admit that I have grown pregnant with his child.
I'll love the child, yes, but I am afraid for its safety. There's always the possibly of the Abominations returning to their hunt for my family's twisted bloodline.
But I took precautionary measures beforehand and contacted a kindly wizard friend of mine. He gave me a spell that could wipe my blood off the charts; but I'm afraid it'll take some time.
We did the spell, luckily, before I became pregnant and he informed me that whatever twisted genes I had set into my DNA would disappear over a matter of one hundred years, but only last for two generations.
And after those two generations, if one hundred years had not passed, the first child of the third generation would be born with the bloodline, and the spell would be broken.
I had told myself I'd stay a virgin, just to be sure the spell worked and the bloodline disappeared. But alas, I gave in to the love of my life and was blessed with the child I hold in my stomach today.
If things go wrong and the spell is broken, I hope my great-granddaughter lives a safe and normal life.
But for obvious reasons, I doubt that.
-Eliza
Something uneasy tickled up my throat while reading. I had no clue what the heck my grandmother was rambling on about but it obviously concerned me, if any of it were true.
The words like wizard, spell, and Freelancer were what were confusing me. I knew wizards didn't exist and neither did magic but my grandmother (great-grandmother) was pretty set on the idea that my "great-grandfather" was a Freelancer, whatever that meant. She had stated in the previous entry that the Freelancers were some kind of group of supernaturals. Wait... supernaturals?
Supernaturals.
I almost chuckled at how this all had to be some kind of joke. It had to be, right? I still wasn't sure what my grandmother meant by "twisted bloodline" but the part about supernaturals and wizards were what set me off.
This was all so dumb.
Mom or Dad had probably put this stuff up here to mess with me; maybe to lighten the mood between us or something. I had to give them credit for it, though. It was pretty damn creative and looked like it took some time to put together.
Although, I still wasn't positive about the book. That's what put me on edge.
But the part about me being affected by some "twisted bloodline" got me good for a second there. Genius plan guys, genius plan.
I decided to continue on with the game and turned to the third entry of the journal.
"January 18, 1902
I don't know what to do anymore.
Out of paranoia, I sent little Rina to live with a friend of mine who was traveling down south for a year. By the time they return to Boston, everything should be over, and I should be dead.
The Abominations have returned and they're out for my head again. I still don't know what they want with my blood but... they've killed Thomas. Oh, God, they've already taken the love of my life.
Rina isn't affected by the bloodline so hopefully they'll leave her out of this but... I don't know how much longer I'll last.
I don't think I can do this on my own.
-Eliza
My heart suddenly ached for my "great-grandmother". Mom and Dad had gone the extra mile when writing these journal entries. It seemed so realistic, like taking a punch right to the gut. I never thought they could get so creative but this... this was something truly... incredible? Not the exact word I'd use, actually.
I came across the last entry.
"February 13, 1903
My wizard friend gave me a coin a couple days ago. It's from this year but I'm not so sure what it's for. It has no money value, at least not in the United States.
Galendale said it has a certain power that could become useful in the future, emphasizing 'future'. I still haven't figured out how it works but I imagine it has to do with the involvement of time travel, since that's what the wily wizard tended to hint at in the time I spoke with him.
Out of all the things I've seen in my life, time travel hadn't been one of them. I still doubt that that's what this coin is capable of and I still don't know why I was given it. But I'll hold onto it, although it most likely won't help me against the Abominations. They're drawing nearer and so is my death, I presume.
I wish Galendale had given me something more useful. He said he wanted the coin out of his possession but I knew no one more responsible than him.
He said my hands were the safest at the time so I accepted gratefully and decided to hide it in my journal and place my collection of studies in the house I designed my very self.
The attic should be safe for now. I hope no one checks under the floorboards.
I write this as my final entry for I sense the presence of the Abominations drawing nearer.
With that, I wish myself luck in the afterlife.
-Eliza"
I flipped to the front of the journal again, and removed the coin with a pained heart. I was slowly beginning to lose my belief that this was a joke from Mom or Dad.
But with what this collection of notes consisted of had me still leaning in that direction.
I ran my thumb over the large brown coin that fit perfectly into the palm of my hand and flipped it over to the back.
Like all the things in this little collage, both the front and back of the coin were covered in some mystic symbols, none of which made sense to me, of course. But the one thing I could read was the mentioned date "1903" at the bottom on the back.
I ran my thumb over that, too.
Strong suspicion began to rise when I realized there was no way Mom and Dad could've put this together and expected me to find it. It was a high possibly that I would've missed the nail and even if I didn't, the board was too hard to be removed and wouldn't have been if I hadn't been so curious.
The chances were too slim.
Second of all, I was sure neither one of them had the knowledge of whatever was written in the mystic book and neither had the ability to get such a realistic looking coin.
So... what was all this stuff? And why was it here? There's no way any of it could be real... right?
I left the journal and book off to the side while I stood to my sore feet and studied the coin more closely. I figured it'd be easier to ask Mom and Dad (although I was still mad at them) about the coin first.
And then I'd throw the devil worship collage in.
Still brushing my thumb over the coin, I limped slowly to the stairs, making sure I avoided any more glass.
I was beginning to think I was suffering from blood loss, even though my wounds weren't that bad, when I started to get a little dizzy. It was mild but my vision blurred just a tad as I continued walking... limping.
Four steps later, I had to lean against a rafter for support when the blurry vision started swirling slightly. I tried again and again to focus my eyes but my mind just wouldn't cooperate and I ended up swaying on my feet.
The swirling became worse and I began to see splotches of black everywhere.
I wasn't sure what was going on but I began to panic and hyperventilate, trying over and over to calm myself and refocus on the light shining up from the hallway.
I needed Mom. I needed Dad. I needed someone!
I tried again to limp over to the stairs but the splotches increased in size and my lungs felt clogged.
What was going on?!
Sharp prickles of pain, feeling just like needles, spread across my skin.
The pain increased as the prickles began to feel like actual needles piercing through my flesh and digging into my muscles and tissue.
I tried to scream but I couldn't because I couldn't even breathe anymore.
I tried to gasp. I tried move. I tried to see clearly.
But I couldn't do anything. I couldn't think straight and all I could feel was agonizing pain.
Suddenly... everything went black.
_______________________________
Get ready for the character I've been itching to introduce. ;)
-Ash