Poor Paris. I am surprised he and his bitch lover held out as long as they did...

But there's always a bigger fish.

Brave

I go to fight
I swear I do
I'll take down Bambi
For what she did to you

I can hardly bear
To live alone
But I'll cherish your memory
I'll cherish your song

And if I'm not back
Within the week
We'll have joined again
And no longer will I weep

Defenestration

A return of song
An entry to the throng
And God's will be done
And God's will be wrong

And God's will be misheard
Let it be misplaced
Let us eat a feast of lies
Let us stuff our face

At least we have a face
There are some who do not
Though my one love would tell us
That that's a quite wrong thought

I still had the drink
The elixir, the potion
The gift from Mother Goose
It set us all in motion

They thought I was asleep
When I had one eye open
They thought that they were safe
And now their arm is broken

I felt the change, I let it happen
I smashed the door and tugged him in
Or her, I'm not sure, but I snapped each bone
Until I was quite sure I'd win

They told me everything
How to get out
Or, more realistically,
How it was impossible, without a doubt

The building was a maze
The halls were infinite
The stairs never ended
The doors opened back into it

But they said nothing about the windows
Nothing about the glass
I smashed right through into open air
I fell upon the grass


Down six stories I fell
I don't know how I survived
But one thing is certainly for sure
I mostly will now thrive

The walls have ears!
The doors have eyes!
The trees have voices,
The beasts tell lies.
Beware the rain,
Beware the snow,
Beware the man
You think you know.

Poor little Beastie. All alone in a cage of his own making.

O come all ye faithful

I didn't. I couldn't. I'm ashamed of myself for being so cowardly, but I didn't go after her as I said I would.

No, instead I went out and about, and walked the whole day away. I even went to see a movie. I feel asleep about ten minutes in and woke up right before the end. I can't remember what it was. A thriller, I think. A murder mystery. The slick private investigator had to be admitted to the hospital because he had three bullets in his leg, one in his shoulder, and one in his stomach, but the killer was locked up behind bars, so it ended fairly well for all involved.

Then I went to the club. Not the dancing-and-drinking-and-drop-it-like-it's-hot kind, but a fight club. No holds barred, all moves allowed. And the only concrete rule was to stop hitting when your opponent goes down for the count, unless you really can't help it. The place catered to every kind, and though the betting was costly, there were usually good odds and great payoffs. One time a fighter walked out fifteen thousand dollars richer.

When I got there a fight had just started. There weren't many spectators that night - maybe a dozen total, including myself. I had been here before, and I had fought here before, and I had sent a lot of guys to the hospital before - kinda like the detective in the movie, only without the bullets. But never killed. I could always stop before I went too far. When I had watched the first thirty seconds or so of the two guys shuffling around in circles and talking smack, I went over to the betting table and put down thirty-five bucks at ten to one on the blue corner - my regular corner. Then I pulled up a folding chair to the bars of the cage and watched.

The blue corner fighter was of average height, and he looked pretty bulky, but that could have just been his baggy clothes. He wore a black hoodie - I started to get nervous when I saw that, but decided it was probably nothing - with some yellow symbol on the back. He was moving fast enough that I didn't get a good look at it, at least at first. He had worn, faded blue jeans, and fairly heavy-looking hiking boots, so I figured someone was getting smashed in the face. The orange corner fighter was pretty skinny-looking, the kind of guy you'd never bet on unless you were itching to go broke, but he was fast and knew where to hit. Besides jeans and sneakers, he had on a pair of dark shades, a grimy undershirt, and what looked kind of like a red fishing hat.

The next few minutes were about as interesting as the first few, but it gave me time to think about Bambi and Beauty and the Creature and myself and how much money I was likely to be making that night. I was just about to withdraw my bet and not risk losing what little cash I had when the blue corner fighter struck his opponent full in the face. The orange fighter dropped to the floor, and the blue fighter was about to pull him up and hit him again when he swung his leg out and tripped Blue. When Blue had fallen flat on his face, Orange rolled over and started swinging at his prostrate form. Blue looked like he just wanted to take the hits, but when orange thought he had won and stood, Blue leaped up and kneed orange in the chest.

They were both panting already, hands on knees, grinning those stupid manic grins that a lot of guys grin. It occurred to me that these guys probably knew each other well beforehand. Then Blue lifted one of his heavily-weighted feet and kicked Orange in the shoulder, knocking him down again. His hat came off near my part of the stands, and I got a good look at the thing - it was designed like a lady bug, with two cartoony eyes, two curving lines that could have been antennae had they not been two-dimensional, and plenty of black spots. Orange grabbed his hat and stuffed it into his pocket before rushing at Blue, but the man in the black hoodie hit him with a quick left hook, sending him sprawling on the floor for the third time. Blue placed his foot gently on Orange's neck, and Orange quickly tapped out. They exited the cage from their respective sides, and I walked over to the betting table to collect my money.

When I had finished counting, I slapped down fifty dollars. "Put me in," I said.

The manager looked me up and down and said, "You sure, man? You don't look so hot." We're old friends, and he knew me before everything went wrong. But I nodded earnestly and pushed the money towards him, and he whistled to signal for someone to open the gate. Fighting and its profits there is simple. You have to pay fifty dollars as an entry fee. If you win, you get five hundred, plus half as much as was lost in bets that round, the other half being kept by the club. Every round after, you only get the half of the betted money, until you stop and enter again. You go up against the winner of the previous round and keep going until you get beat or leave. I've left plenty of times, but I've only gotten beaten once - in the first fight of my second night.

I noticed that the ladybug man had disappeared, as if he vanished into the shadows - well, I wasn't going to dawdle like he did. At least, that was my plan, but it looked like the guy in the hoodie - who was now in the orange corner - had had the same idea. He hit me upside my head with that strong left hook, and I backed up against the bars of the cage, ears ringing. It was on. I rushed him, diving at the last moment and grappling him around the knees. The hoodied guy tried to kick me as we went down, but if it connected I didn't feel it. I scrabbled on the floor until I was standing over him, and then I kicked him, hard, in the stomach. He tried to swing out with his leg like the ladybug guy had, but I dove to the side and kneed him in the chest as I threw myself down. I still ended up on the floor, but now I was in control. I got up and put my hand around his throat, completely lifting him off the ground, and held him against the cage. His hand convulsed, but he didn't tap out, so I dropped him and slid backwards, watching him all the way.

Then it got interesting. And fairly terrifying. I could feel the change, but I didn't even try to stop it. My mind lost all semblance of clarity, and I headbutted the hoodied guy in the stomach, and started to claw at his face. He struggled away from me, but I stomped on his knee, and he cried out in pain before hitting the floor and starting to roll away. I think I may have growled something - "Tap out," maybe - but he just gritted his teeth and got up again, limping, face contorted with pain. While he was on the ground I finally got a good look at the symbol on his hoodie: Ω. Then I cracked him in the neck with the side of my open palm, and he dropped like a stone in the ocean. I felt so angry at how horribly everything has gone recently, and...I reached down again and grabbed him around the neck, slowly choking the air and life out of him.

Then someone - the manager, probably - called my name, and the change stopped. I let go quickly and stomped out of the cage. I grabbed my winnings, leaving me with a solid eleven hundred, and walked up the stairs into the dark foggy night. I don't think anyone saw me crying, but I didn't have time to do it for very long. A long dark car with tinted windows pulled up in the street in front of me. The front passenger window rolled down about five inches, and a gloved hand came out, holding something small and black. It almost looked like a gun, but then whoever it was pushed a button, and I fell unconscious like the man in the hoodie, having been tasered for the second time in my life.

When I woke up - a few weeks ago - I was in a pretty bare hotel room - I still am. There was a shower, a small, stocked kitchen, and a cot, and that was about all. The window is large, but barred, and the door is locked. I tried to break it down, but something is keeping it shut on the other side. Two days after I was imprisoned, or at least two days after I woke up, a TV appeared across from the cot. They must have come during the night, when I slept. It's an old TV, but it has color, and it staves off boredom usually. About a week later a crate was set next to to the TV, full of books, comics, magazines, and the like. They've taken to delivering the daily paper every morning, probably through the crack under the door, and I guess I'm thankful for all that, if not for being imprisoned. The kitchen is always restocked whenever I'm about to run out, and just yesterday they gave me a desk and a computer. Like the TV, it's pretty outdated, but it works, if a little slowly. I sat here all day yesterday and most of today trying to write all of this.

I plan on breaking out of here tomorrow and finding...a place that I've heard of. Maybe it will have some answers. Maybe it will help me find my song.

Speaking of songs, tomorrow is Rosh Hashanah. I was Jewish before...before everything. Now I guess I'm really nothing. But maybe I'll say a few prayers and hope I get out of here.

And from the hard time living to the sleepless nights
And the black-and-blue body from the weekend fights, he'd say...

Done

Might get pretty badly hurt but I'll end up okay in the end. Hopefully I haven't used up all my luck.

Mother Goose

Mother Goose is...

I don't know how to describe her.

She helps people.

She runs a homeless shelter, though if you looked at her you'd think she belonged in it herself. I don't know exactly how old she is, but she says she's around one hundred and ten. She says that every year, too - I've known her for at least nine years and she's always said she's around one hundred and ten.

Mother Goose is my grandmother.

Or maybe it would be more accurate to say she's my godmother? How I'm connected to her I never really bothered figuring out. I only knew her for a few months in college before I was finished and moved out with Beauty Helen, and she seemed to forget all our interactions every time I visited her. The last time I saw her, she gave me a check for something like a hundred thousand dollars and told me to live my life to its fullest. I promised her I would.

That's going well.

After that I managed to talk to her over the phone or through email sometimes, but after the Creature invaded my life I gave up on everything else besides getting Beauty Helen back. I never found out Mother Goose's real name; maybe "Goose" really is her name but something makes me doubt it. Anyway, I hitchhiked to her city of residence and put down money enough for three nights at a cheap hotel. It had a bed, a shower, and free wifi in the lobby, which was all I needed.

Sometimes I don't eat for weeks. It's never even slowed me down.

Actually I'm still squatting in the parking lot of that same hotel, because Mother Goose told me she'd need some time before she could get what I wanted, and it's been, what, two weeks since she said that? I needed her special talents. She calls her self an alchemist; her friends say she's a chemist, and I say she has what I need. I don't mean lead into gold or anything like that, no, Mother Goose whips up these...concoctions that affect your emotions. She can wipe away fear or erase regret, if only for a short time. I didn't need either of those. What I need is to remove any rational thought.

She sounds like a drug dealer, but it's more complicated than that, and not illegal, as far as the fact that she hasn't been stopped or even confronted yet. As far as she or I can tell there's no side effects of her - of her potions, I guess. If I'm going to go after Bambi Mary I can't think about it too much or I'll realize what an idiotic idea it is.

Maybe I got lucky in my choice of middle school extra-curriculars, but I know good meditation techniques. I know the standard stuff you'd find in any cheap back-of-the-store pharmacy book, but I also know one or two tricks that can...make me forget. And the most difficult part about a plan like this is remembering how idiotic it is. There's at least two levels of idiocy here; the idiocy of my plan to deal with Bambi Mary, and the idiocy of my plan to enact that plan. I need to forget about the second idiocy, which will allow me to go through with the first idiocy without any hesitations or further accusations of idiocy.

God, I'm such an idiot.

Have to find her.

Have to find Mother Goose.

She can help.

She will help.

Days since...

I'm sorry. I'm not used to

I've been throwing up since

Bambi was at Beauty's was at Helen's old apartment. Don't ask me why. I didn't have anything with me but the clothes on my back, and even then I didn't have much. I knew I shouldn't have gone in unprepared, unarmed, but

Love does funny things to you. Even if the one you love is

I had nothing to lose if Helen was

If I didn't have Helen there was nothing for me to

The receptionist recognized me. I don't know how. I don't look anything like I did when I still lived with her there. But I'm glad she did. She buzzed me through the front doors and gasped that oh my God it was me and did I want to go up to the apartment? Of course I said yes. The receptionist didn't know that Bambi was up there. I did. I knew that she was up there. I knew what I had to do and I knew I could do it. I took the stairs. I'm no good with elevators.

The apartment was almost completely empty. No, it was empty. Completely empty. There weren't even any walls. The only evidence that it was an apartment at all were the windows looking out over the bustling streets below. Something told me it wasn't natural. That it was a trick that the Creature was playing on me. That didn't matter. All that mattered was Bambi. And there she was. And she smirked. And I knew who it was that hid behind that name, a name acting like a mask, her own mask for her face discarded somewhere so she could stare me in the face and demoralize me and it worked

Mary

I wouldn't have thought in a million years Mary would do what she's done to her own sister. Maybe to me. She never liked me. But she put up with me because of our common link. Helen. Her sister. My love.

I flew at her in a rage, ready to rip her apart like I've done to countless others, innocent or otherwise, on purpose or by accident, and I fell to the ground, I collapsed, I couldn't hurt her and not for a lack of trying

And it wasn't even the Creature's influence or Its presence that was doing this to me but just the shock of seeing Mary here Mary who is Bambi who killed her sister who killed her sister named Helen who killed her sister that I was in love with that I loved with all my heart

And then I awoke in a Dumpster where I normally wake up in the mornings.

And I found I had lost the song

I found I had lost my voice

And I don't think I'll be getting it back any time soon

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun
Coral is far more red than her lips' red
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun
If hair be wires, black wires grow on her head
I have seen roses damask'd, red, and white
But no such roses see I in her cheeks
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound
I grant I never saw a goddess go
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground
And yet by heaven I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare

I...don't feel very good.

Hurricane

I think that I know where to find Bambi
But until I can I must face up to my sins
I've hurt again, I dare not sully their names
By speaking them; I cover my eyes and dip my chin


Wish me luck in my quest
For if I don't come back in three days
Then you should probably assume
I'm dead, or caught in the Creature's haze


Bambi will die someday
Or I will redeem her
She may serve the Creature
But I can still be a dreamer

Rampage

An unstoppable rage flows through me, it's true
You won't even recognize me when I'm through
But as Bambi is as far away, lost as Beauty
I will have to try something else before I continue with my duty


But while the monster I am wants to rip things apart
The little remnant of human I have is rather smart
There will be repercussions if I unleash my anger
But the monster I am nearly thrives on danger


Someone, someone, out there
Tell me I'm doing wrong
And maybe, maybe, maybe
You'll stop me midsong


I don't want to hurt them, they are innocent folk
They've never hurt anyone and they love telling jokes
Bambi knows this about me and she knows I can't stop
She knows that I will reduce myself to slop


I can't help it, I'm a monster!
And I have been for a time
I'm forced to scavenge Dumpsters
For enough food to survive


I'm a cruel one, a beast
I'm a mean old mister Grinch
But I'm so, so much worse
I ruin or end lives in a cinch


And I hurt those closest to me
And I inspire hate in all around me
And I can't become a better me
And I think the Creature's found me

Liar

I refuse to believe it, it simply can't be so
Because if she was dead - then wouldn't I know?
But perhaps her scent has escaped my heart
Perhaps I truly have been left in the dark

Insolent worm. Why are you still searching for Beauty? She's dead.

She never even wanted you. In fact, with her last breath, she cursed your name.

Haven

Fight and flight and right and quite
Night and kite and light and might
Though Beauty has escaped my sight
The Creature taunts me still, causing fright


But not in me, no, not in me, no, it won't get my mind
It hurts the ones around me and the havens that I find
I run and run and run and run and cannot ever stay
And even in the night I flee from things that attack in day

Disgust

I'll rip the Creature's flesh apart

I'll tear into it with tooth and nail

The Creature can't stop me from having heart

And I will laugh as I watch it flail

It has taken Beauty from me

It has taken everything from me

It has slaughtered innocents

It has done things I can't see

But though the Creature is a monster

The Creature is still a living thing

And the one thing I know about all living things

Is that many would like to do no more than sing

Perhaps we cannot hear its song

Perhaps we've heard it all along

But that simply does not change the fact

That it must die - it's made its pact

Illusion

I think that I have found her
Yet I lose her, then I flounder
And it's in my darkest hours
That to me love seems so sour

I wonder if she's not gone
The signs all point to absence
But I have searched so long
Could it be she's dead forever?

Pounce

I am, I am, because I have to find her
But right now I'm only all the blinder
I don't see how she could have disappeared
Of all the things that I have feared...

Stalk

I'm crying, I'm trying
I'm doing the right thing
I'm lying, I'm flying
Am I doing the right thing?

Turn Off The Light

I'm a monster, I'm disgusting
Just don't look at me
I'm not fit to be alive
And if not for her, I wouldn't be

Where The Wild Wind Whirls

It gives me sorrow, makes me sad
I've lost the trail - this is bad
It makes me angry, makes me mad
And now there is revenge to be had

where diyd you go
LEO
whhy atre you gone

gwher wherer where

REGERE


when wwill you
comc e for mee

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Challenger

Dare I hope? Dare I pray?
Dare I suggest I will find her someday?
Dare I scream? Dare I hide?
Dare I ask another to come along for the ride?

Mate

Blood and thunder, lightning and gods
I am constantly reminded of what I have lost
Forests and deserts, oceans and mountains
Some day the Creature will leave me dead in a fountain

Scavenger

Love and love alone can win
Hatred brings us all to ruin
Violence sometimes is the only answer
Sometimes it can be solved by a dancer

Hunter

I cannot do this all on my own
Yet I know this job is only for me
Beauty is waiting somewhere, I know
And I know finding her will set me free

Parasite

In the fields I hunt my meals
In the rain I hide my pain
In the sky I cast my eye
In the sea I look for she

Host

In the dark I bound and run
In the light they shoot with guns
The children think it's all good fun
The elders think that they have won

Predator

The people scream and slink away
I couldn't find my friend today
The Creature saw me in the hay
But I couldn't follow the needle's way

Prey

I run, I leap, I jump, I hide
I swim, I fly, I crawl, I ride
Please come closer, look inside
You'll see the kinds of things I've tried