Another change to the records.

Screw that Matthias guy.

Such little work when he arrived so of course he makes up for it with his departure. One dead, 2 injured, 2 departed and a whole bunch of special notes in the margins.

Oh right he also sort of doomed us all by removing our protection and he you know killed someone and hurt a couple of people.

On the bright side with the dying man gone this place is now no less dangerous and no more dangerous than anywhere else in the world so visitors might start coming again.

"You're just as likely to die out there as in here but at least in here there's free rooms and board and a chance to make friends."

We should put that on a sign somewhere.

Anyways as per usual no matter what changes I'm not leaving.

No point in going somewhere else to die when I can die in comfort right here.

Oh and best wishes to Sal with the broken arm and all.

Get better soon.

Damn

He looked different. I should have noticed it sooner. He looked different. All I was thinking about was "How do I get him to leave without causing a panic?" I should have noticed.

He wasn't wearing a cast on his arm anymore. I don't know how he took it off. I don't particularly care. His arm looked...discolored. That's when I noticed, but by then he was too close. I should have ran to the office then, should have grabbed the box and run.

But he was too close. He grabbed my arm and said, "Where is it?"

"What?" I asked. I was trying to delay, trying to figure out some way to get him leave.

He twisted my arm until it hurt. "Bring me to it." He looked into my eyes and I finally knew Matthias was no longer in the driver's seat.

I brought him to the safe. But I had one ace up my sleeve. Just one chance.

"Open it," he said.

"Key's in here," I said and opened my desk drawer. And I pulled out the gun I kept there. Last resorts and emergencies. That's what it was for. Last resorts and emergencies. I pulled it out and pointed it at him.

He smiled. I don't think I'll ever forget that smile. It was a smile of a man who doesn't care about anything, about living or dying. A man with nothing to fear.

He was faster than I thought. He grabbed the hand that held the gun and then pulled it back until something in my arm snapped. I cried out and then felt his hand over my mouth.

"The way I see it, you have two choices." He leaned closer. "Let me into that safe or Let. Me. In."

You can read about what happened after here. I don't particularly feel like writing about what happened. About Maggie.

Matthias might blame himself for what happened. But I know: it was my fault. It was all my fault. I should have just forced him to leave. I should have moved the box as soon as I knew. I should have...fuck, I don't know. I should have done something, rather than the nothing that I did.

We called the cops. We had to. James and I needed a hospital and Maggie...Maggie was dead. There was no cleaning this up.

Cops finished talking to me thirty minutes ago. I said a guest went crazy. Stole some money. After all, there were witnesses.

I'm going to try and sleep now, but I don't think I can. I don't think I'll be getting much sleep at all now.

fuck

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking fucking fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking fuck fuck

The Dilemma

So usually I skim over my comments to check to see if anyone has any questions. Last week, I decided to skip reading comments, however, because I thought it would just be, you know, "traitor" and other things of that intent.

Finally, this morning, I decided to check the comments and see one from our dear friend Proxiehunter (the misspelling in his name is due to being concussed at the time, he assures me). It is from this comment that I am informed of our other visitor -- the one currently residing in Matthias. The Dying Man fragment known as Judas.

(And as a sidenote: how ironic is it that after I reveal my little secret, a Dying Man fragment shows up that's named after the most famous traitor of all? Or am I misusing the term "ironic"?)

When I found this out, my immediate reaction was to try and get Matthias out. Unfortunately, for most of the day, he has locked himself in his room, and when he comes out, it's nearly impossible to get him to go anywhere.

I could force him out. I could try breaking the lock. But then the remaining guests would ask why. And if I answered truthfully, they would panic. And if I didn't, they would get suspicious, check this blog, and still panic.

So, the way I see it, I have two options: wait and see what Judas does, if he does anything at all.

Or I could move the box. Just until Judas is gone. Would that work? Would They descend upon this place like locusts if I took away the box just for a day?

I don't know. I don't want to find out.

A few more days. I'll wait a few more days. And if he doesn't leave, I'll move it then.

A little free time.

I've been extremely busy since Sal let loose his little secret.

Tons of people pouring out of here in fear and disgust over this revelation. Which of course left me having to account for all of their exits.

Plus a few of the crazier runners who had been avoiding us before now find us interesting enough to grace us with their presence so yeah I've been a little overworked.

Yeah more than usual even...

As for my thoughts on the whole thing?

Well like Sal said I'm not really bothered but not for the reason he says. In fact quite the opposite.

He thinks it's cause I know that's all that's protecting me.

Wrong. I don't mind because I'm not safe no matter what so one more huge risk isn't much of an upset for me.

I've been working here under the shadow of death since day one and I'm not going to flee just because the shadow got a bit darker.

Doomed is doomed no matter how doomed you are.

So yeah.

At least the new stranger was easy to add to the record.

Just had to add one name no record of what he's running from no extra information or addendums to add just a name and a room number. Easiest record I've had to keep so far.

Actually with the dry up of new people once I get the records straightened my job should be a lot easier.

That's kind of a depressing thought actually.

Talks

Well, I guess Albert's talking to me now. We had a chat and, well, he's staying. For now, at least.

The unconscious guy's name is Matthias, by the way. He woke up earlier today and we talked a bit. He had a similar 'haunted' look, like others I've seen, though his looked less haunted and more...I don't know. Uncomfortable.

Ivory talked to me some more, though still about medical stuff. She's off buying some cream to give to Matthias -- he's got a nasty rash on his side. I wanted to ask him how he got it, but held off - a lot of runners really value their privacy and I didn't want to scare him into leaving.

Anyway, I guess things have somewhat settled down since the revelation. I still got some cold shoulders from our remaining guests, but that's too be expected.

A Little Trust

“Yet man will never be perfect until he learns to create and destroy; he does know how to destroy, and that is half the battle.”

I was wondering why it felt like people were suddenly being cold, and the guests were leaving in a hurry. I'd heard some stuff that made me shudder, then I read the blog, and now everything is a little clearer.

I've never really questioned the way Sal's run things. I just do the work I've been given, and I get a roof over my head in return. But with a Dying Man piece around, I'm now not so sure. I've never had a run in myself, but all the stories I've heard about people encountering a Shard of Lazarus have never been good, or had happy endings for that matter. It may be keeping the Misery Makers away at the moment, but some of the stories I've heard about them make me worry. Some of our guests who have passed through here have been hunted by Dying Men before. They're all similar, yet all so different. Some of them are smart, some are mad, and some are almost human. But all are dangerous, and sometimes it's only because they've been seeking other shards to become whole again. Their endless pilgrimage of madness, built on the death of others.

I know that sometimes it's necessary to use evil to fight off evil. Sometimes, making deals with devils is the only way to get by. But it's still evil, never the less. What are their servants after all, if not people dealing their lives away for what may only be one more day of life. Whilst it might have warded off Ruby Tuesday for now, who's to say someone, or something, won't come our way seeking it out?

I guess I should trust Sal's judgement on this one. That man has proved his character after all. But something about this just makes me spooked. Not to mention the only real guest we've had recently is the unconscious stranger. It seems word travels fast these days.

The Stranger

Why do things always seem to get better and then get worse?

I met Ivory outside. She was finally able to look me in the eye. And she was about to talk to me, too. I could tell.

And then she looked over my shoulder and her eyes went wide. I turned and looked and saw it: there was a man sitting on the ground outside the hostel. Then I realized he wasn't sitting -- he was slumped, his eyes closed. Unconscious.

Ivory rushed over to check on him. He looked to be in his late twenties, dark brown hair. He looked shabby, like he hadn't shaved or changed his clothes in days, maybe weeks. Definitely a runner, by the looks of it. His arm and shoulder were also in a cast and sling.

Ivory had me help pick him up and bring him inside. We got him on one of the beds and Ivory checked him over -- plenty of scars, even a nasty one on his back, but they were all healed over. She said he had probably collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

So good news: she's talking to me again. Bad news: it was all medically related.

Well, you take the good with the bad, I guess.

Walkout

We had some of the guests leave today. Not even paying their bills. I guess my secret has been spreading around. I guess they didn't want to stay under the same roof as one of Them.

One of them, however, spit on the floor. That's just unsanitary.

Fallout

Ivory isn't talking to me. I walked into her work space today and...nothing. Not even a word. She was counting all the bandages she had left. I told her I would go out and buy more. She didn't even acknowledge I existed.

Okay, I kept a secret. A big secret. I probably would have been targeted by the Black Dog if, well, you know. If I didn't have what was in the box.

John was a bit nicer. I think it's because he knows he's only safe because of what's in the box. I haven't seen Albert yet today and I don't know if he's read the last post, so I'm not sure how he'll react.

Some our guests were chillier to me today, too. Guess some of them read the blog.

I wish I could have just kept the box, never taken it out, left it the safe to gather dust. I wish it was still my secret. But Ivory...after the incident with Ruby, she told me to post it or else she would. She told me, "No more secrets." And she hasn't said anything else to me since.

Fine, Ivory. No more secrets.

I have a fragment of the Dying Man in my office. It's what keeps us safe. It's pretty much the only thing that keeps us safe. See, back when I was running, I realized that nothing stopped them. Not bricks and mortar, not steel, not the tallest building or the lowest basement. The only thing that stopped one of them was the presence of another.

I was looking for something. I don't know what. Something to help me stop running. So I went to the Acropolis in Athens. Someplace old, someplace perhaps eldritch. I went there and I found it. A broken piece, smaller than my fist. But there this...miasma. I felt sick as I looked at it, but I knew. It would keep my safe.

I used tongs to hold it. Then I put it in a box and put that in another box. I used gloves within gloves. And then I brought it back here.

It's kind of paradoxical that something called the Dying Man is what's keeping us alive. But it is. It's a shield to protect us from Them.

I guess I'm just sorry I kept it a secret from you.

Return and Reveal

It was almost a month. Almost a month of quiet. Things were good. There were no more incidents of those weird cutters, no more appearances by Ruby, no disturbances. We had runners come and go and everything pretty much went smoothly. John kept the records, Albert mended some broken pipes, Ivory patched up some runners, and I ran the front desk.

And then yesterday I was locking up and Ivory stepped inside. I thought she had gone home, but sometimes she stays late, so I wasn't too concerned. Then I saw the look on her face and the glint of metal at her throat.

"I said I would come back later," Ruby said. She was behind Ivory holding a scalpel to her throat. She had a wicked grin, what I believe they call a 'slasher smile.' I did not doubt she would slit Ivory's throat in a second.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I've been observing you and your people," she said. "All those runners you harbor. Even if only for days, they should have been attacked here. It's strange. This place shouldn't exist - the Fears should have invaded this place so many times that you should be dead or struck with disease or mindless husks by now. You can't operate this kind of establishment and not draw their attention."

"What. Do. You. Want?" I repeated.

"I want to know why," Ruby said. "I can feel the blood thumping, jumping in my veins. There's something about this place that's making my skin tingle. I want to know why. Tell me or I bleed her dry."

"Let her go and I'll show you," I said. "She isn't a part of this. She doesn't know anything."

"She works here," Ruby said. "She lives under the mantle of this...place. Show me and she lives."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them and said, "Wait here." I went into my office and opened a false wall. No stupid picture frames with a safe hidden behind it - I had this specially installed. I entered a code, then unlocked the safe with the key around my neck. Then I spoke into the safe four words into the safe - yes, I am paranoid, but as you can see, I have good reason - and the safe opened.

I took out a small metal box and walked back into the front room, where Ruby and Ivory were waiting.

"This is why," I said. I placed the locked metal box on the front desk. Ruby looked at it with a strange confusion on her face.

"Open it," she said.

"I can't," I said. "I threw away the key long ago. But you already know what's inside. You can feel it. Can't you?"

She looked at the box and her expression melted into panic. "Where did you find it?" she asked.

"Greece," I said. "During one of my travels there, I found a broken piece of the Parthenon. I don't know how I knew what it was, but I did. I knew enough not to touch it. To lock it away."

"It keeps them away," Ruby said.

"As far as I can tell, yes," I said. "It exudes some sort of aura. Even in the box, in the safe. It must be a very large fragment."

"It is," Ruby said. She lowered the scalpel and Ivory rushed over to the other side of the room. "Put it away. Put it away and never take it out again."

"I thought..." I paused. Did I want to continue this? "I thought you wanted to take it."

"No," Ruby said. "All I wanted to know is why. And now I do. So put it away before it attracts any attention." I did, making sure to put the protections all back into place, then slipped the key around my neck again.

When I went back to the front room, Ivory was starring daggers at Ruby. But Ruby seemed lost in contemplation. "It protects you now," she said, "but it will cause the end of you as well. Nothing else can come from it except death."

"We'll see," I said. "Right now, it's the only thing stopping them from invading, like you said."

"What you are talking about?" Ivory finally asked. "What was in that box?"

Ruby laughed and it was melodious and sweet, yet tinged with despair. She stepped out of the front door, then turned back. Then she revealed my secret.

"The Dying Man," she said. "Inside the box is the Dying Man."