Started tryin' to walk off that injury, or at least get a little better... that mob of melon fuckers was faster than me, so I might as well try and get a little faster myself. Been gettin' better. Month goes by and I can dress a good bit of my injuries, they were unarmed to its a good bit of bruisin' and broken bones... but hey, if it works, it works. Gotta find a guy who can help with my back though...

Fireplace keeps talkin' to me.

Today it asked me to go check an old shed near my house. I dunno why it did, it just did. I had never been in it before. Was plannin' on gettin' rid of it since it was somethin' the previous owners had built... then again, nobody actually knew the previous owners... were there previous owners? 

Anyways, I check the shed and the door's unlocked. Which is odd. I never opened it before, and its been locked ever since I got it. Just never saw the use in tryin' to open it. There's some candles on the shelf nearby, lit. In the middle of 'em is a lighter. Looked pretty normal, got a weird lookin' insignia engraved into it though. Looks like Mahakali, y'know, the Hindu goddess of time and death? But if they were a skeleton with like, flames where its hands and skull should be. That's the best that I can describe it anyways. 

Candles went out after I took it, so I gotta assume this place is either haunted or Timur has wired my whole house up and is just seriously fuckin' with me. I'll have to call him at some point and check. Still, I've never seen a lighter like this before.

I dunno if it does anything interestin', but as far as I can tell? Shits infinite. Could be useful.

Talked to Timur Today. Just sorta, called 'em up. Asked 'em if he was fuckin' with me 'cause of the whole Lighter thing. He just sorta asked me what I was talkin' about. And so I was all like, "Look dude, I dunno what the fuck you're tryin' to pull but its either my house is fuckin' haunted,, or you're screwin' with me." Then he asked me why he'd have any reason to rig my house to do creepy shit or whatever and if I saw any signs of tamperin'. Couldn't say I had anythin' to say to 'em when it came to that. Just told 'em I've been on edge recently since the contract stuff and well, I dunno what the fuck is goin' on. He said he'd come over and look at it later. If anythin' was outta place or looked like it was rigged up to somethin', he'd know. Said my goodbyes and hung up.

Fireplace spoke again.

I dont like it when it does that.

Just lit itself up when I sat down in my favorite chair. 

I tried to ask it about the lighter but it just said a whole spiel to me. Something, something, "A Man without pain can't live with me" or whatever. I see it as nonsense, but I can't help but feel a presence near me whenever it starts speakin'. 

What does it want with me?

Writin' in here today to take note of somethin'.

I feel different.

And not in like, a sick way, but somethin' feels off. 'Course I'm workin' on my cardio and sharpshootin' and all that. But, there's somethin' odd with that Lighter.

I tried gettin' rid of it a while ago, and the next day? It was back in my possession. Everywhere I go, If I leave the lighter somewhere, its like I know where it is at all times. Its weird, I don't like it. I suppose I gotta work on my mind or somethin' so that it doesn't drive me mad.

But the strangest thing happened a week ago.

Out of options, I chucked it into the fireplace, y'know, expectin' to find its charred remains there or for the uhh, Fireplace to say somethin'  like 'So, maybe you ain't worthy of this after all' or somethin'... Nothin'.

Nothin' at all.

But I wake up again today and the Lighter is sittin' right there on my bedside table! Its got some ash on it but like... its perfectly fine! The engravin' is a little different though... dunno how. I mean, it looks... almost the same, don't get me wrong 'ere, but its lookin' a little more... glowy. I ain't sure whats up with that, but when I picked it up I felt... better? The stress had been gettin' to me I guess and uh, well I ain't no psychologist, but maybe seein' somethin' as loyal and durable as this little lighter helped? 
I dunno.

The Fireplace is callin' me again and Roland sent me some new bodies to bury.

Don't know what I'm doin' next contract-wise. Gotta hope I survive though.

What do you want from me? I've done the things you've asked, I've done these contracts in order to do such things better for you. What is the end game here? 

PLEASE TELL ME PLEASE

WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME

SPEAK TO ME DAMN IT 
SPEAK TO

Im losin git.

losing

losing it.

I keep hearing it in my head. 9 seconds. It was 9 seconds.

My blood runs cold, I've hurt myself multiple times before this past week to see if I could feel something. Its becoming harder to understand whats going on with me, with this BULLSHIT .  these jobs, all these fucking jobs keep bringing me to is death's door and this FUCKER DOESN'T SHUT UP

STOP PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP PLEASE SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP

god

I keep trying to push it off, y'know? be a light in darkness. Comedy! HaHAhdAHSaHAHAHAHZHAHAHA SO FUCKinG FUNNY! DAMN IT! DAMN !T DAMN IT!

the doctors said to take twice-a-day of these things... anti-psychotics or whatever. I'm not psychotic. I know Im fucking not. IT TALKS, I KNOW IT DOES I KNOW IT FUCKING DOES.

maybe I should... take a seat... light that thing up after work... get... warm.

I cant even light myself a ciggy near the graves anymore. Swear I heard somethin' rustlin' in the grave I just dug... fuckin' lighter. Goddamn it. whydoeseveryonegethecoolshit?

Its so cold out here.

I just want to be warm again.

I wake up from a dream tonight.

My finger twitches, I was hammering the trigger of my .32

I walk downstairs to where my fireplace was bright

It spoke again, and I spoke to it too

"I shield you" It said, "Under the cover of night"

And to it I asked what else it could do.

"You will find out." It said, and then snuffed out the light.

I didn't know what else I could do. I tried going back to sleep but that just didn't work out as well as I expected... I looked in the mirror and I couldn't even see myself anymore. It was like looking at a shade of myself, as if I was just a burn mark on the mirror itself. I know what I look like, I just... god I don't know what I'm doing anymore. My head is back to killin' me again... man, I hate this bullshit... 

When did I start writing poetics?