Mr Lane has been properly revived, and he offered us assistance in finding information and supplies at a marketplace called Camden in London. Very fun little atmosphere there, it's been quite some time since I was mingling in a place like that. I found my fun a bit short-lived however, as Mr. McDuff from the other day seems oddly intent on finding me. A werewolf, of all people, warned me that I was being hunted and the shop owners around were being offered a large sum for a drop of my Vitae. How crude.

 

Well, Charlotte and I were safely escorted out of the street to wait for Lucas searching for a battery for this... battery powered gun-shaped healing contraption. Geniuses continue to baffle me with their little doohickeys. But I suppose, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Seems to be working fine for them.

 

Inside the building the werewolf took us to I ran into the good Mr. Clover who let me know that the Prince was satisfied with my service on trying to take care of the unpleasant Mr. McDuff. It was clear by his obsessive focus on me that I'd done my duty. And I'm brightened up significantly by that news, and by the news that he gave me afterwards. It seems the Hunter was being Hunted by some of his own kind as well as the Vampires. Which is proof that reckless people like that always burn their bridges. I'm heartened significantly that he's earned himself quite a few enemies. Easy allies for myself should the need ever be.

 

Though I'm unsure if that will become an issue at all. When Mr. Lane and Ms. Keene returned, I politely took my leave for the sake of not running into that vile man again. When the situation isn't in your favor, it's best to retreat. Knowing when to bow out is a skill that any long-lived being has obviously learned. One does not live long when they can't back down. But I digress, the group informed me that Mr. McDuff was apprehended by the Hunters and dragged off by a few of the London court's vampires. Hopefully I shan't be hearing from the nuisance again.

 

After the trip, I was feeling a touch fatigued. Well, as fatigued as one can feel without the true sense of it I suppose. I retired to my room to enjoy a movie, but was soon disturbed by Miss Charlotte (I'd rather use her first name, for some reason it seems... too much to use her last name. Seems a dishonor to her family to mention them every time I bring her up.), who is increasingly queer to me. I found out from her own admission that she's as loose as the college girls in the slasher films. Which is... somewhat amusing. Though her behavior is what I find so bizarre. She is at times kind and accommodating, followed by outburst of foul language and terrible temper. She's troublesome. I wonder if she might not be a chickens short of a coop.

 

Miss Keene and I have been getting on a slight bit more as a matter of fact. I find her to be slightly condescending for her being so far my junior, but from what I know of doctors, they're always of the mistaken belief that they always know best. I'm finding that to be a general trait of Geniuses as a whole. Well, what can one do.

 

Miss Keene desired to bring us to her former workplace for investigation, which was why Miss Charlotte disturbed me from my relaxation. I wasn't particularly fond of the plan, seeing as it was nearby Chicago, the place of my werewolf attack. I was even more displeased to find that Mr. Lane had upset the Prince in Chicago as well. This time he's going to be the one answering to the Prince when he's upset with me for my current associations.

 

They were so eager to go that they wanted to travel in daylight. I was not planning to follow unless they had a suitably closed off space for me. When they arrived, they found the place boarded up and in quite a state. The awful place was filled with trauma spirits that got to work making all of us quite uncomfortable in the place.

 

The spirits were keen to replay for us our painful memories. I can't speak much for the others, but my first little memory, that of the werewolf attack, was certainly uncomfortable, but somewhat helpful. In torpor, your dreams are so real that it gets difficult to discern reality. I had seen many variations to that situation, thinking that any might be real. I was no longer sure which one had truly happened. But if the others were any indication, this gives me a solid idea of how it all happened. And makes me wonder, what is was the beast meant when he said “We'll save them”? Oh well. Trifles for another day.

 

The second memory was far less... useful, so to speak. I felt the terror as soon as I saw Grishaw walking towards me with that smile. I'll concede to say it's far worse than any movie I've ever seen. I wasn't so young that I didn't know to feel uneasy with a strange man leading me into a room.

 

When I saw daddy laying on the sofa like that, I guess I could've run. Maybe I should've tried, heavens, if I'd known of all that was to come... Would I have? I suppose there's little sense in wondering. Watching it though, it certainly seemed... wrong. I was innocent then, and more than anything, it was sickening to watch myself die. It was unnatural, gruesome. It is to me great relief that I didn't see it happen to poor dear little Sallie. I feel for her deeply, my sweet little sister. It was long ago since either of us have truly been sweet. But that's really not something you could blame us little lambs for...

 

My reminder was extremely unpleasant, nevertheless. They always say time heals your wounds. But sure as can be, that one felt fresh as yesterday. If a century and a half isn't enough time then I'm not quite sure I believe that nonsense. It's obvious that time is only useful to grow another layer of distance from that unspeakable day.

 

Regardless of what I take away from that, if it's not better by now, then there's no point in waiting around and expecting it to feel better. It's as my mama always says, if some thing's going wrong, then you need even more to show a lady's grace. The men always fall apart if they have to see a lady in distress. A steady, graceful, feminine presence is absolutely essential to keeping everyone calm. Plus it's no fun being glum about it for too long. It's too late now. One must make the most of the life they have, even if that happens to be unlife.

 

Pain is temporary in a life eternal. My poise is far more important than a few more tears. Though now, being out of bullets, I really would prefer to leave this unpleasant little hovel sooner rather than later.