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.

Fwoosh

"What is it?"

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"Yeah, I know, I know, plans and shit..."

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"So what if there's some guys runnin' around undead and all that? Ain't my problem."

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"Hm? Oh, yeah, just wanted to make sure I recorded all this just incase."

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"What? No, of course I ain't gonna show it to people... You ain't gonna be mad if I do though, right?"
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"Thinkin' I'm crazy, yeah sure buddy... listen, there is NO way in hell, they'll think I'm crazy."

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"Okay, well, thank you for the lighter. It's been very useful, but I don't have any other 'blessings' from you."

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"I'm sorry, what was that?"

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"Listen, despite all your poetics, that doesn't change anything. I have no clue who you are and what you want."

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"Alright! Alright! Jesus... no need to act like that.

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"What the hell do you mean by that...?"

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"Alright, Y'know what? I'll cut myself and I am going to SHOW YOU, that I do in fact bleed red and not whatever stuff you're talkin' about. Fucking 'A man who bleeds cannot live with me' ass fuckin'... I live here damnit!"

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"HNMGH- ow, ow ow ow ow ow... ow..."

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"holy shit..."

THUMP

Fwoosh

"Eugh... eckh.."

"goddamn it... fuckin'... table..."

"At least I got it. Who's the crazy person now, KARYN?! Fuckin' bitch..." 

"Huh, where'd that cut go?"

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? 

Woke up with a headache today. Fireplace wasn't speaking to me, that was odd. Thought those anti-psychotics were actually workin' for once... maybe I was hallucinating. Walk downstairs, to get somethin to drink, maybe a coffee or whatever... y'know? All that funny shit. Anyways, I get down there and there's this... ringin' in my ears... the sound of fire and the call of the flame beckons me again and I'm just like "Goddamn it!" y'know? And uhhh... well, I get down there and theres a guy sittin' in my favorite armchair.

Real odd stuff, right? Yeah that's what I thought... and I live out in the middle of nowhere. Anyways, the fireplace is on and the guy's talkin' to it... whats this, some alternate version of me? I don't wanna disturb him so I try and like, make my way behind 'em and whaddya know? Floor squeaks, the flame roars, and the whole house turns a new blue hue. Dude turns 'round and aims a fuckin' revolver at me and is all like "Who are you?! What are you doing here?!" and I'm like uhhh... y'know, tryin' to get my point across, y'know maybe I woke up in the wrong house, maybe its a whole like a new hirin' process thing for the fireplace or somethin'... tell 'em my name and he points it further at me and says the owner of the house disappeared a couple months ago. Tells me that I can't POSSIBLY be the guy, despite very obviously bein' the guy... and of course he asks me AGAIN about that damned fireplace and what I know about it and all I can tell is that this guy don't got a lighter. He ain't got shit really, all he's got is this gun and it ain't even very useful. Same caliber I got for blowin' out rotten matter, the difference is that I'm alive, and the things I usually am shootin... ain't! 

So this guy's either a crazy homeless guy (Which ain't a surprise really, I've offered a place to stay for some a couple times.) OR he's some sorta other thing entirely. 

He says his name is Abdon Heynong, odd name... but I suppose my name ain't much better. He keeps askin' if I'm some sorta necromanced creature or whatever... keeps askin' about the blood and all that. And its then that Im a little skeptical of this whole thing.

Anyways, I'm all like "Look man, I'll just call my buddy Timur and he can confirm, he's checked out the place and all that so y'know... he's got an idea of what's goin' on here maybe."

So I call 'em up. 

Timur says he hasn't heard my voice in months.

He's crying over the phone.

It gets weirdly embarrassing... I'll talk to him later hopefully.

Anyways, Abdon's still aiming the gun at me so I ask 'em if the fireplace talks to him too... didn't really try that before.

Unsurprisingly, Abdon also talks to the fireplace, and so I'm all like fucked up and all that. Because I didn't know there were two of us. I ask 'em about a lighter and the guy just looks at me weird like I'm some sorta crazy guy, until I pull out mine. Apparently he's been gettin' visions of one in the hands of some great skeletal thing... great. So not only can he not understand the pain of bein' me, he also doesn't know the pain of bein' part of this whole fireplace business. Grand stuff, that's all I gotta say. 

Anyways fireplace started talkin' again... Abdon's takin' notes... the studious bastard, and I just got a letter in the mail. Real ominous sort, just says "Your work isn't done yet." 

Apparently someone knows I'm alive, and apparently some fucky bullshits happenin'.. I look on the news and Trump got resurrected a while back,  which just ain't right, y'know? I know he didn't die. And whats all this about Big Ben and the Smithsonian? What the fucks happenin'?! Most recent thing I saw was that Bubba Score held some sorta concert... but I can't even find the guy 'ere... 

I tried to call the last livin' folks I knew but I just... they ain't here, dead numbers or different folks. Somethin' ain't right. Nothin' is as it once was...

the fuck happened?