Yesterday

I met up with Ron. We met in Quincy Market.

I read your post, Ron, but we met at 10.  

I know a guy who knows a guy and I was going to try to get you out of Boston by boat, but I figured the only way this could work was if we broke or killed whoever/whatever was keeping you here. My only real lead was Charleston, so we went there.

You seemed normal, Ron. A little haggard, a little freaked out, but a normal guy. You cracked a couple lame jokes, even.

I don't know why I keep going back to Charleston. Every time I go there something nuts happens. He's deepest in that neighborhood.

This is going to sound crazy but I think the whole neighborhood is a proxy. Cities have souls, you know? A single barely conscious entity. Its not gonna move around, but I don't see why it couldn't be entirely under his control.

But I talked to my boys Reuben and George and they said that the dudes with the (x) symbol hung out mostly in an abandoned tenement . I recognized the street address as the street my grandparents lived on. It was the apartment building directly to the right, the house the guy from last time was crouching behind.

It was an old, defaced apartment building, two stories. Light blue paint fading. windows boarded up, an open chain link fence.  no grass to speak of. Wooden steps leading up to a door with a red operator symbol. It looked fresh, whereas the other grafitti was obviously not.

Ron, you hesitated, and thought this was stupid, but decided to go along with it. You told me you were out of ideas and were willing to try anything. We got you a length of pipe, Ron, from the wreckage in my grandparents house. Together we slammed down the door with the operator symbol on it.

There was a dark hallway. wooden paneling on all sides. A Dark Spiral Staircase. We moved down the hallway, towards a doorway. It was a TV room, with a laptop perched right there., still glowing.

But the room was empty.

We went further down the hallway. To the right, a locked door. Ahead, another barely lit space. It was a kitchen, a really old school one with an old style oven and refrigerator. The fridge stank.

We busted down the locked door, Ron, and this was where things started getting weird. Do you remember? The door lead back to the entryway of the building,  Near the staircase and the TV room.

We heard a creaking from the floor above and you muttered "fuck it" and just bolted up the steps like a demon. When I got up there you had already bashed a door down.

My watch says this as about twelve.

The upper room was made of cement and had pipes hanging everywhere. Water was dripping from someplace else.

There was a man in a comedy mask, and four other masked goons Tragedy masks, I think.

You had already broken the mask off of one's face with the pipe, Ron, and were grappling with another. I smashed Justice into the ribcage of one guy and when he bent over I slammed the hunk of wood into the back of his head.

You had lost the pipe while I was busy, Ron. You were struggling to remove the mask from the guy you had pinned down, and shouting how you were gonna "Rip his face off" I'm going to assume you meant the mask.

The last guy had a knife. I threw Justice at him and then pounced.

The guy in the Tragedy mask had been saying things to you in a quiet whisper, and he had been moving closer. I was still struggling, so I couldn't hear, but his tone was almost singing, almost melodic.  

As I finally got the guy off of me, I head you scream and an unearthly wail. You had stabbed the man in the chest.

I ran over to you and him and went to remove his mask but you shrieked and came at me with the knife. You were saying such crazy things, I can't remember what you had said, but you weren't yourself.


You swung at me, and stuck me in the right shoulder. You were hyperventilating.

As we were looking at each other after you stuck me, HE appeared.

I tried to open my suitcase but I couldnt do it with one hand and moving my other arm HURT but you were just standing there staring at him...

I woke up back in my hotel room. I lost Justice. everything else is still there. I couldn't post so well yesterday because I took myself the hospital. I Claimed I had been beaten and Robbed by a gang who wore (X) as their symbol.

I'm all patched up and in my hotel room. I can't move my right arm too good.

Next move is yours, Ron.

I'm not ready to give up on you. Not yet.

I'm prepping Operation: Brofest. I could use your help with it.