On my own

No one's left. Not of the underground, anyway. Me against the night. I've collected several thousand dollars from a few of the meeting locations, stashed in the usual spots. Two of three were empty, secured and fully stocked. Nothing there but me, a stack of dusty old magazines and books, some food in the fridge. Got the cash and not much else, no weapons, no keys, no maps. So I wound my way through town until I hit the final gathering point.

Big mistake.

Cops everywhere, on street corners, knocking on doors, you name it. A crowd had gathered around the last point, bright yellow caution tape keeping them back. I tried to mingle with them, get an idea of what happened. Multiple homicide turns out. Words from some of the locals was the building was used by lots of shady types, going in at odd hours and all. Consensus on the street was that it was one of those cult suicide pacts you hear about on the news every now and then. I left, didn't need to know any more details.

And now I'm bunked in some ratty old motel for the night. Not the safest place, but it'll take them a couple days to find me. I've got to think, think think think. I need a plan and a place to move. Money is no issue. Lodging might be.

Not good

I showed up at my "safe" house to find everyone already dead. It was, well, horrific is putting it lightly. The guy I was supposed to meet looks like he'd been skinned - alive, judging by all the blood splatter and deep gashes where the knife probably slipped. The rest of the underground there...messed up is all I'll say.

Now I know this wasn't that...thing. It doesn't use knifes, and it sure as hell doesn't do all of that. No, it was one of them. Some sick fuck with a sharp knife and a head full of crazy, more than the rest, at least. I've got to check in with any underground in the area, see if they can tell me what's what. I need out of this.

Change in plans

That runner never made it, so I have to assume the worst happened, there's a mole in the underground, or she was intercepted, somehow. Either way, I'm not staying, I've got to move. I'm keeping this short and not broadcasting my location, night's falling so it's the best time to move, but it's also the best time for me to get jumped, by them or just some banger looking for some quick cash. I'll post again when I'm someplace safe, might be a while.

Set backs

Looks like that runner got delayed. Hope she's alright and it's just her people getting held up, not something worse. Underground has been great at moving people around - so far. All it takes is one of them that has a better grasp on reality to slip in and bust it all wide open.

New arrivals

I've got in touch with a few people, a runner is going to stay with me for a while. I hope that one guy(?) was just a coincidence and not the sign of something larger, I'm in an apartment, not a fortress. If somebody wants in, they will get in. My best hope is to remain anonymous and not stand out. I hope she isn't followed, I just settled here last week, I can't move again. Not this soon.

I did it

I killed my first proxy today. It was all self defense, it happened so fast, I didn't know what I was doing until it was over. He(?) came roaring at me out of the dark as I was walking to my safe house, a rundown little apartment owned by a deceased runner. He(?) caught me square in the chest, full force, we both went down on the cold cement. I was flat on my back, he(?) was straddling me, arms raised up ready to strike, a knife glinting in the dim light cast by the street lamps. 

I managed to sock him(?) good in the solar plexus, sent him rolling off me. I tried to run, I really tried, but he(?) caught up, and fast. Knicked me pretty good too, I felt that little knife slide across a rib. Guess I tripped on a crack, we both went down again, felt my nose crack on the sidewalk. That knife skittered right up to my hand, I grabbed it and turned just as that proxy dove at me. I felt it sink into his(?) gut, I heard his(?) breath wheeze out as he rolled back and grabbed at his stomach. Blood was leaking between his(?) fingers, and he(?) just kinda lay there, rolling side to side and moaning every now and again. I couldn't just leave him(?) there like that. My conscience told me I was putting him(?) out of his misery by puncturing his(?) windpipe and slitting his jugular. My brain told me I was taking care of a liability, proxies are durable fuckers.

I don't know which side of me to believe.

In the dark

I've lived as a runner for a while now. Followed them, lived with them, moved where ever I could, any place that could be a safe harbor. Always hounded by those people. Cultists, I don't know. Disposable resources is more like it, I've the aftermath of that, bodies arranged in that special way, every single warning sign of It being near.  I've out lived every runner I've been with, I don't know why. There are always vague gaps of memory, followed by the death of yet another one. We're dying like animals, no hope for survival, cut down when we're near the brink.

I've only had the misfortune of running into it once, in some backwards neck of the woods last winter. Can't remember much of it, why I was there. All I've got is the lingering memory of a suit, and a driving pain, like something was burrowing through my skull. Next thing I remember, I'm running across as many state lines as possible. I do remember the date when I encountered it first, December 3rd. Next thing I knew, it was January and I was several states away. I lost an entire month of my time.

I'm tired of running.  I know I can't stop it, it's impossible. But maybe I can slow down its other means.