This work is dedicated to Kenneth and Gloria Young.
Table of Contents
Start of Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About The Author
Other Works By R.M. Plaiscia
Preview of The Hurricane Journals: Volume II
(Prologue)
Monday, August 29th, 2005
So I guess I’ve got to start all of this over, yet again. This will be the third time in total, but the first in quite a few years. None of it was ever meant to hold so much importance, and should have easily been discarded to the sands of time without even raising an eyebrow. But, over time, it actually became something more than it was meant to be. You see… when it all began, when I first picked up that initial notebook, it was only to keep me from being swallowed by the boredom of my own depression, and keeping track of my experiences did exactly that.
This story had no name, no planned plot. Hell, it was hardly even a story at all, just a way to keep myself sane in a time of dark reflection. But since that time, after following these individuals for so long, these characters, if you will, it was clear that they possessed a life all of their own, and some with a fate that not even I could sway.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m supposed to be starting from the beginning, here. And that beginning was a very long time ago, so long ago, in fact, that there’s no possible way I could ever start from there. So, I’m actually going to begin somewhere closer to the end, or, should I say, the present. Yet still, this time will no doubt be too far in the past for many to believe that I was even a part of it. And that’s fine. Those many can turn away from these pages and never even read these words, and if not for that reason, then definitely as soon as I start talking about witches.
So let’s go ahead and get all that out of the way, right now. Yes, these individuals that I speak of, these characters that I’ve followed for so very long, they consist of several types of supernatural beings, primarily witches. So if you’re not a fan of witches… well… don’t blame me for the resilience of their kind. Trust me… I’ve wished the bastards dead for several millennia now, and still do.
But anyway… so… now that that’s over with… for those remaining eyes that have decided to follow me along this journey, the eyes that still remain to read these words, prepare your minds to enter a realm of fantastical truth that has been blotted out from the pages of history, a realm of the past hidden black by casted shadow, where the race of Witchkind remains concealed to prying eyes.
For the sake of placement, I guess I’ll go ahead and say that this all began nearly three-hundred years ago, upon a mighty river’s crescent, and very few of the original pages of my journey still remain. But those that do will be displayed between my recollections of this past, both serving as the only true remnants of this forgotten time.
Most of those original writings had to be left behind, during an unnamed storm in 1856, one that was eventually dubbed simply, the Last Island Hurricane. After that, I was forced to rewrite everything I had learned if I wished to pass that knowledge on to the future. But most of that was lost mere minutes ago, as this most recent storm, one given the name of Katrina, decided to carry its floodwaters into the confines of this Crescent City known as New Orleans.
All those journals, all that history, was drowned by the waves that have claimed this land once more. Thus I must return to that time of so long ago, that time when I first decided to log my experiences onto paper, if I truly wish to keep this knowledge alive... which I do.
There was another hurricane that hovered above this same land at that time, one dubbed by the mortals as ‘Terrible’, but remembered by the witches simply as… ‘The Vampire Storm’… and that is exactly where I shall begin my journey again…