Christina (14%)
3: Blake (10%)
4: Justice (7%)
5: Rita (7%)
6: Craig (7%)
7: Manfred (7%)
8: Desiree (6%)
9: Julia (6%)
10: David (2%)
11:Tina (1%)
12: Nathan (1%)
(Information Collected by The Cruise)
JOURNAL 08DESIREE
ENTRY 005
DATE: 3/4/2074
Lord, I've received Your sign. Everywhere I look, I see demons. On the walls, sitting next to me on the furniture, everywhere. Everywhere but the doors and windows. I never see the demons outside. So I know. I understand. I can't stay here. They won't leave. You've revealed them to me, and there's no way for me to banish them. Not from here. They've impregnated the walls.
I have to leave. Staying here won't do anyone any good. Justice doesn't want me to leave. He doesn't understand it. I can't make him see what's going on. I know You have Your reasons for not letting him see it. You have Your reasons and they aren't for me to question. I can only say it would be easier if You would share the visions, but I don't make this request. I would not dream of such indignity against You.
When it comes time to escape, I will be ready. I don't know what work You have waiting for me out there, but I know that it's beyond that door. It's outside these walls, in the darkness. It's out of Justice's safety and protection. I see now that You didn't answer my pining for love. That, perhaps, is not in my future. Justice is here as a challenge. He's simply misguided. I won't hurt him. He's innocent. But I have to escape. I swear to do this in Your name.
Amen.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG
ENTRY 005
DATE: 3/5/2074
I've managed to find a new place to live. It's far away from Susan, unless she decides to leave. I doubt she will. She spent too long setting up those traps and security measures and everything. She's way too practical to waste that much time and energy. Scary practical.
I'm still working on the CESUs. My best theory is still that I need to use a CESU to get into a CESU. At least as long as I'm stuck in here without proper tools. Of course, I might end up killing myself in the process. I don’t have any of the exact paperwork or schematics on them, but the amount of energy inside of a CESU is huge. If I screw up… I don't want to think about it. I'm working on estimates anyway. They could be wrong.
And I have to find two. The one I had on me when I woke up is a ways off from the house. Have it set up with a tripwire. A million things could go wrong with it, but if it works out, I'll have a good thirty seconds' notice to get away.
I'll be completely unprotected at that point, too. Not something I'm hoping for, but it's better than the alternative. You know, death. So I'd rather find two. Something to work on and something to work with. Hopefully not something powerful. Don't want to rupture whatever's in there. But I'd rather have the one I work with strong enough to make somebody else stumble, if necessary. A delicate balance. I don't know that I'll be able to find it.
It might be easier if I could sleep better. Ever since I left, I've been on edge. Any little noise or light wakes me up. I'm lucky to get a few hours. And those few hours are normally filled with nightmares. Tina dying. Susan finding me. My own damn curiosity getting me blown up or burned to death. I've been way too tired lately. So I'd rather find the other CESUs soon. I don't know how many more nights I'll be lucid enough to comfortably do the kind of precision work I'll end up needing to do.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA
ENTRY 005
DATE: 3/5/2074
I've come to a decision. Probably get my stupid ass killed in the process, but Julia needs protecting, and I'm here. So I'm doing it. I can't tell her about it, but I'm doing it. I just don't want her getting hurt.
She's teaching me to cook. If I make it out of this in one piece, I guess I'll actually be able to fend for myself. Hopefully I can get my food bills down. Restaurants and prepackaged dinners aren't really cost-effective. I always knew that, but I didn't think I could cook. Actually, I knew I couldn't. Now I can… sort of.
Let's just hope that I actually get the chance to put this all to use. But then, if I do, that means Julia didn't survive. Either way, I failed. Which one is worse? I don't know for sure. Depends on the day. Depends on the time of day, I guess.
Right now, the best option is Julia surviving. I guess I'll see what the verdict is tonight, when I don't sleep again. The past couple days haven't been good for me. Exhaustion. This whole thing's been keeping me up. But I can't manage to give up and leave. I just can't.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03BLAKE
ENTRY 005
DATE: 3/6/2074
I've been thinking about my family a lot lately. My mom, mostly. Dad, he can probably handle the whole thing all right. On the outside, anyway. You know how it is with those old-fashioned kinda guys. They never really let you know how they're feeling until their dogs die. But Mom, I think she's falling apart. I guess part of it is me hoping. Not that I want her to get hurt. I don’t want any of this to happen at all, least of all Mom getting upset about it. But how would I really feel if I found out she wasn't upset?
It's stupid. I know she has to be. Who wouldn't, with their son kidnapped? No notice, no nothing? They don't know that this is all fake. I'm still running with that. It's the only thing that actually makes sense. But Rita also says they wouldn't let the audience know it was fake. Makes sense, too. Everything she says makes sense.
I'm glad Rita found me and told me what was going on. I wouldn't have figured it out. I'm just not that bright. Yeah, I can admit it. Rita pretty much saved my ass. I don't know exactly what would have happened if someone had figured out that this was all fake.
But Mom and Dad don't know. They could have figured it out. They say it's always easier when you're sitting on the couch than when you're actually there. Maybe they solved the puzzle. Maybe they're not worried and they know that it’s some weird special effects trick when people die. Fuck, maybe they got told that it's all fake. I don't know. I don't know anything other than what I'm supposed to do. Survive. Or 'survive,' I guess. Don't become a victim of whatever high tech hallucination hologram bullshit they're using.
I still think about that guy I killed, though. It was so graphic. I just can't manage to forget any of it. Not a single drop of blood.
ENTRY END
Mr. And Mrs. Ross,
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We appreciate your son's participation and your family's sacrifice. We understand that being without a family member for however short a time can be can be very trying. We can in no way make up for this hardship, but please accept a free lifetime subscription to Evenstad Media's Premium Package as a small token of our sympathy.
Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE
ENTRY 006
DATE: 3/8/2074
Desiree's asleep, so I managed to steal away some time and test the fucking medallion I found. It's been long enough. I should have found out what it does before now, but I haven't been able to leave Desiree unsupervised for more than a few seconds without her trying to get
herself fucking killed. I feel bad about it, but I blocked up the door to keep her from getting out. I'm a fucking asshole, I know, but I had to do it. Having this thing lying around, not knowing what it does, and Desiree falling out of her fucking skull, it just doesn't sit right on me.
So I took it outside. It was hard as fuck to see what was going on in that dark, but I didn't want to test it out too close to the house. Might have blown the whole fucker to bits, Desiree included. Best I could see in the dim lights, it was some kind of spray. It smelled foul. Like diesel mixed with baby puke. I thought that was the whole point of it. Seemed pretty fucking stupid. If someone's really determined to kill you, a nasty stink ain't going to stop them.
But then I saw the grass. Wherever that shit fell, it left everything brown and yellow and just fucking dead. Some kind of weed killer. Don't know if it does anything to people or not. I would guess so, as fast as it took out the grass, but what the fuck do I know? It could be that it just kills plants. It could be that it's just making me fucking hallucinate and the grass ain't even dead. I don't know.
But I do know one thing. It catches fire. I tried it out. Thought about spray paint and a lighter, the kind of stupid fucking stunts I pulled in high school. It worked. Big old fucking fireball thing. Probably gave away my whole position, if anyone was watching. I can hope they weren't. Really hope they weren't. Or at least hope that they were far enough away. Everything's recharged again. I can burn the fuckers, now. They ain't getting close to me or to Desiree.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA
ENTRY 005
DATE: 3/9/2074
Well, aren't you happy to hear from me again? I'm sure I'm your favorite. I mean, does anyone else even talk