August 22
Unable to sketch, Meredith has started a journal to "put her feelings somewhere safe until she can deal with them". She wants me to as well. I don't see the point, but it doesn't take long, so I'll do what I can for her.
I feel rage, I feel failure, I feel unfathomable loss. I feel guilt, inadequacy. Sympathy for Meredith, and love.
I feel hollow.
That's about it. Going to make sure my suit fits now.
-Colton
August 23
It was in a church after all, they must have changed the rules. "...ways known to Him alone...". I wonder if they believe it, or if they're just being polite, after centuries of harsh truths. I want to believe it, but I can't make myself.
-Colton
August 30
Been sleeping a lot. Most of the time, even.
Meredith has gone back to work. She says it will help her, that the house is too quiet. I know she wants to ask when I'm going to start working again...we have plenty of savings, but it won't last forever. But she doesn't, she's letting me find my own way. If there is a way. It's so hard to care about anything. If I heard the world was ending tomorrow, I wouldn't even wave goodbye.
I should drink less.
-Colton
September 6
I've been reading about spiritual intervention, the idea that the living can have influence on the realms of the afterlife. Modern books are crap, full of vague notions. I think they know they're making things up, they're pre-excusing their lack of evidence.
But there are older books, more comforting in their certainty. They write of paths ordinary people don't walk, that no one walks, without some burning need. They write of cause and effect, visible, testable predictions. If there's a chance, I have to try. It's something to do, anyway.
-Colton
September 15
I found references to ritual scarring, supposed alchemical mixtures, turning symbol and pain into something more. The records are fragmentary, but research is good anyway, keeps my mind from wandering. I think maybe it can be adapted...tattooing is just an evolution of the old scarring, one that affords far more detail and symbolism. I just need to get the ink right, and for Meredith to use all her talent to do exactly what I ask with it.
-Colton
October 4
Meredith has added another piece to my arm, using the new ink mixture I finished yesterday. With each batch, she's become increasingly uncomfortable - lately, vocally so - with blindly using what I give her without knowing exactly what's in it. She's always been a professional, she takes safety very seriously, even if I'm not a paying customer. I reassured her, told her it's entirely safe, but very personal to my spiritual practice and how I'm...coping. She went along with it for now. I have to keep her happy, I don't think I have time to find someone else as talented. And she deserves to be part of helping Jess, even if she doesn't believe she needs it. Still, I wish I didn't have to lie about it being safe.
-Colton
October 6
Atramento Vitae, I've actually made it work. The new piece is almost completely healed, in less than two days. Now I can really get started. I've drawn up a schedule of experimental rituals, if there aren't any major setbacks, I'll be ready when the Veil thins. Soon.
-Colton
October 7
Some success with actual physical workings. I can nudge small objects with a gesture, and put out candles. Air is hard to control, getting stray gusts. Going to have Meredith "retouch" the earlier pieces with the new mixture.
-Colton
October 8
Some trouble. I should've realized Meredith would notice the new piece was already healed, I was too excited, wasn't thinking. She's upset, even freaked out a bit. But I could tell, excited too...she's desperate to know what's in the A.V. I swore if she just waited a bit longer, I'd tell her everything. It's not a lie, I'll leave a letter addressed to her, just in case. She was reluctant, but she did it. I couldn't have done this without her, she's stronger than I am, even if she's blinding herself.
-Colton
October 9
Massive improvement. I can actually lift objects without touching them now, and I have better control. The gusts of wind are worse, though. There might be something else going on there, I'm going to try some divination.
---
Complications. All signs point to the errant wind as malicious spirit activity. They may be attracted by my newly-empowered practice, or by my A.V. ink, or both. Have to do something about it before it gets out of hand.
-Colton
October 10
Managed to cleanse my workspace with a standard S.B., but by the end of the day they started showing up again. Need a better option, and cutting wards of sufficient quality and quantity into everything would take weeks I can't spare. Checking the texts for alternatives.
-Colton
October 12
Success. I've invoked my "Personal Guardian Angel"...they are supposed to usually remain invisible, but I actually saw her for a moment...such beauty as I've never beheld. Her name is Chovah. I explained about the spirits, and she's keeping them at bay, so I can get back to my proper work. I was a bit nervous that she might not cooperate, that she would know my ultimate goal, and disapprove. But either she doesn't know or it doesn't matter. I hope the latter, but I'll press on regardless. I must. Can't think about what's happening to Jess, about it taking another year if I miss this chance.
-Colton
October 15
I'm truly hooked into the universal mainline now. I can light candles with a word, I sometimes hear people's thoughts when I go out. Distracting, so much trivia. Going to avoid it as much as I can. When I Invoke, my circles actually have a visible glow. Can't tell if it's real or I'm just seeing on a deeper level of reality now. I'll try documenting it with a camera. It's possible no one's ever come this far before, I should leave as much as I can just in case.
-Colton
October 16
Progress continues, but not without obstacles. Meredith stopped by, said she was worried about me. I told her everything was fine, really great. She didn't seem to believe me, I may have been too fervent. As much as it hurt, it's for the best that we have separate places now...when we talk about anything but work, it's like Jess is hovering between us, even though I know that's not true.
Camera didn't work, batteries missing, can't find any.
-Colton
October 17
Got batteries. Clerk at the store was afraid of me before I spoke. Not sure why. His thoughts were full of images of me leaping over the counter and stabbing him. Disturbing for both of us. I told him I had no wish to hurt him, only to save, and then he got really scared. I left. Have to stop talking to people.
Camera still didn't work. Batteries somehow missing again. Something very odd is going on, but the camera isn't important. When I succeed, I can spread the word myself. Continuing with the Ollshak ritual.
-Colton
October 19
Woke up this morning with scratches on my chest. Not random, they seemed to be trying to remove my ink, but couldn't...the pieces themselves are pristine. I wonder about the batteries now. Something's attacking the work physically, escalating, attacking me. Chovah should be stopping this. I Invoked her again and urged her to redouble her efforts, time is so short now. In her brief appearance, her beauty is undimmed, yet she looks harried somehow, tired. I am probably attracting more attention than any single human should. I would pray she's up to it, but I worry that would be counterproductive.
-Colton
October 21
The successive rituals have paid off, last night I had the dream. A rusted metal door in a black wall, deep, painful red glow around the edges, exactly as the texts describe, but now I can picture it in enough detail, I can see it when I close my eyes, the shape, the runes. I've already started the modifications to my basement wall.
-Colton
October 22
The tank to the acetylene torch is gone. Not empty, gone. I can hear them, and even see them out of the corners of my eyes sometimes now, little black creatures. They're actually physical, which may be why Chovah is having trouble stopping them. I had been ahead of schedule, but if they continue, I'll never finish in time. I think I recall something from Al-Anweh's tome that might help, but I will need Meredith's direct participation. But I'm close enough now, I'm sure she will see that we can actually do it, that the old texts are true...and our daughter desperately needs our help.
-Colton
October 25
An expensive delay, but I think worth it. I tried explaining what I needed to Meredith first, she was so eager to know before. She said I was crazy, said I needed "professional help", tried to leave. But her thoughts said she did believe me - she'd seen my demonstrations - but she was terrified. I made her sleep to stop the screaming and her terror both, that's easy for me now, and it was a kindness. I'm sure she'd have hated herself later, for not helping me.
It took three exhausting days of sacrifice and Invocation, but it's done. Chovah now has the flesh she needs to operate efficiently. She seems a bit confused by the change, uneasy perhaps, but still determined. She easily retrieved the batteries and the acetylene tank from the creatures, even though they'd apparently swallowed them. Made a bit of a mess. They were still good after a wipe-down, I used the batteries and took some photos.
-C
October 26
Meredith's body has been changed by its new tenant. It has not gained the Angel's sublime appearance, retaining instead Meredith's more Earthly beauty, as well as her own ink. But the marks of her humanity are gone. Chovah wants to stay as light as possible, she says clothing is 'encumbering', but humors me with wispy panties when I insist. I can overlook the lack of her navel, but the irrelevant blankness between her legs is too distracting.
She complains frequently that her wings are trapped by the flesh and she cannot fly. There is new ink in the skin of Meredith's back, a pair of wings...they glow in my sight like my circles. Yet even if she cannot fly, she moves like the dark creatures do, flickering in and out of sight with preternatural speed, alighting on random objects in the basement as if she weighs nothing. Are all of the Host angels of death, when they need to be?
Sometimes I hear Meredith crying when Chovah is not busy doing something else, just perched somewhere. I might try to comfort her but the Angel wakes whenever I look in her direction or it seems like Meredith might try to actually speak. I think it's good though that she has the chance to really grieve now, I never thought she took enough time for that right after. Hopefully it will make her even stronger for the challenge ahead, when we forge an end to grieving.
-C
October 27
My effigy of the Gate is as detailed as I can make it. Tomorrow I will begin my efforts to both transubstantiate and open it. The attacks continue, Chovah has started piling the bodies of the black creatures in a corner of the basement. She sometimes sings as she kills, and it's beautiful, but in a haunting, disturbing way. I've asked her to stop, but she acts like she doesn't hear. Maybe she doesn't realize she's doing it. I hope my rituals are not damaging her somehow, but she is mine and the task requires it. I wonder if Meredith could sing so well, before? I never heard her sing.
-C
October 28
I tried the Third and Ninth keys, and a few invocations from the German text. Nothing. The remaining rituals are much longer, I should have tried them first.
-C
October 30
The Gate stands open. It was the Uruk tablet that provided the final key. Now we must endure, for the Gate swings both ways, but until the Veil thins, it would be fatal for me to pass through it. Chovah is a whirlwind, her hands glowing like flaming swords midst the now-constant invaders into the basement. Even as I wield the acetylene torch myself, its flame bolstered by my will, I keep a corner of my mind active, cutting wards around every conceivable exit with a hovering utility knife. I underestimated how many of them would be able to rush the Gate before the Veil thinned, I can't let them escape into the city above. I take the attackers as a good sign, that they fear my plan, that it can work.
-C
October 31
So tired. No time for writing, but it has become ingrained, essential, a part of my practice. Even so, the pen that writes these words is no longer held by a hand, for they are too busy, but by my will alone. The skin of my right arm and half from my back is gone, sacrificed with all the glyphs it carried for a single ward against the Gate itself. The pain is unbelievable, but even at such a price it is only a temporary respite, it should hold just barely long enough to do what I must. Light as she is, Chovah is too hampered by the Earthly atoms of her borrowed flesh, and there are too many enemies. I am lucky she is even here. Had I charged through the Gate alone, as I originally planned, I would have perished almost instantly, caught as surely as Jess in eternal torment. She is my Guardian, truly, and Meredith my Helpmeet.
Meredith screams as I dig and slice with the utility knife, carving the wings free of her back, while Chovah sings a delirious anthem of battle and freedom, the sounds blending in some impossible harmony from a single throat. The skin curls loose, blood streaming down her flanks and hips, mingling with the blood from my flayed arm. The glow of the ink brightens until I can't look straight at it, and suddenly she is aloft, red drops gently spattering with each flap of her now-unfettered wings. It's all I can do not to simply stare in wonder at the grand alchemy I have wrought, Host and Woman made one.
But there's no time, my flesh-bought ward has finally broken. I spin, stabbing the torch like a lance, opening my soul into it. A gout of pure blue the width of a utility pole thrusts into the Gate, the acetylene tank now irrelevant, discarded. The torch is as much symbol as tool now, a holy fire that can create or destroy, fueled by my very being. Chovah soars forward, spiraling around the flame and through the Gate with something finally approaching true angelic grace, a helix of pink flesh and white light, bringing end to everything her hands touch. I shout my defiance as I run forward in her wake, that for once, the battle shall come to Hell's doorstep and beyond, that by the knowledge and power I've earned, I shall free the lost souls tricked into damnation by depression and darkness and neurotransmitters askew, that my child, my innocent Jessica, will suffer in torment not a SINGLE DAY MO-
November 2
I don't make the rules, but I freely admit I do enjoy enforcing those within my purview. Eternal damnation does mean Eternal, as this journal's late owner is only now truly realizing.
I must, however, express my sincere admiration for the ingenuity of this "back-door". Rest assured, I am quite certain I can prevent the effort from otherwise going to waste.
Any day now.
-L