Savage and Macabre - Gangrel.pdf

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be hin d wa sn’ t co ncea led , giv en t hat he r spr ee i s fa r fr om g rac efu l. I s till h ave n’t foun d her,
It wa s la ying on the che st o f a dea d m an in a n al leyw ay. The de ad man is, o r wa s, P hoe nix
be en look ing f or: the jour nal.
Ma lone , on e of the th ugs work ing for tha t so- call ed Worm Lo rd, R ufu s Se ptim us. Yes , he’ s th e
R ega rdl ess. I do n’t k now wh at t his m an did to dese rve ha ving his che st to rn o pen , but it
wa s. I assu me she did it, t hou gh a dm itte dly I did n’t see the mu rde r.
A top the jour nal was a Po laro id p ictu re o f th e c orps e. N ext to h im, t he cam era itse lf.
I’v e in clud ed bot h. T he c am era ’s pr obab ly u sele ss t o yo u, b ut f or t he s ake of com plet enes s
If you nee d m ore info rma tion fro m he r, I will cont inue my pur suit of t he girl. Oth erw ise, at
pres ent, she ’s ca usi ng ju st e nou gh u phe ava l an d ki lling the rig ht “ wron g” m en tha t I’m inc lined
to le t h er c onti nue with th is bi t of mer ry-m ak ing.
Th e jo urna l fa irly stra igh tfor war d, t houg h. I don ’t th ink my inte rpre tat ions will add an y-
thin g spe cia l, bu t I t hou ght I mi ght give you an ide a of wh at t o ex pec t.
Th e ir st p art — t he p art whe re I like to thin k of Alic e a s “T he G irl” — h as som e int ere stin g
r ead ing. It s tart s wi th T he Han d O n My Nec k (p . 3), whe re she ind s th e in spira tion to und er-
t ake thi s lit tle p roje ct, l et’s say , an d m oves righ t in to t he i rst par t of Mid nigh t Ro ads (p. 4),
h er r unn ing c om men tary on life on t he r oad . It get s int eres ting fro m th ere , wi th A Spo t of
H isto ry ( p. 4) , and he r ir st in ter view wit h on e of he r cla n: a his tori an, as it tur ns o ut. S he also
i nclu des Th e Tr uth (p. 9 ), w hich wa s ap pare ntly na iled to t he door of her mot el ro om.
Mor e of her Mid nigh t R oad s (p.1 1) f ollow , an d t hen The Anc ient an d th e M onst rous (p. 1 2), h er
in ter view (an d I use tha t te rm v ery, very loo sely ) wit h a part icul arly who rish Sa vage by the
n ame of “Glin da .” Th en, we h ave Th e PS A (p . 20 ), if y ou will, an i nter view wit h a cac klin g, jos tling
b rood of neo nate s, w hich pro vide s an int eres ting cou nte rpoin t to Ora l Tr adit ion (p. 2 3), h er in ter -
The ne xt se cti on — sor t of an inte rlud e — is a piec e I pick ed u p fr om a not her She riff on t he
v iew with Ko nsta ntin Kor ab.
o ther sid e of the cou ntry . It’ s ba sica lly a n in terv iew cal led Witc hes , Kis ses a nd Bom bs ( p. 27 ).
I tra cke d h er, a s y ou a sked . H er t rail has n’t b een ha rd t o fo llow: the ca rnag e sh e’s left
no t ex act ly. B ut some wh ere alon g th e w ay s he i na lly re linq uish ed her grip on w ha t yo u’ve
on e wh o g ives me all t hos e pro ble ms.
it’s in a sep ara te b agg y.
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T h e h a n d O n M y n e c k
They have Sarah and Little Jack.
Jesus, I don’t even know who They
are. Maybe it’s a Him. Or a Her.
Shit, I just don’t know! I tried
to leave them out of it, tried to
make the break. I moved halfway
across the country (the “night
country,” one of us said, and I
promise that you haven’t seen this
place until you’ve been here only at
night, long stretches of empty, hungry
night) to get away from them so I
didn’t expose them to any of this. It
wasn’t my choice to be what I am,
but now I have to live with it —
Live with it . I can’t even stop
talking like that. Like I’m still alive.
Okay, Alice. Calm down. You know
how they talk about being “hot-
blooded,” like when you’re angry? It’s
literal for me, now. Wasn’t before.
Before it was just a… a thing, a
descriptive thing, a poetic thing. But
the blood inside, it’s normally cold,
slow, like molasses or corn syrup.
Then I get scared. Or angry. And it
gets warm. Hot. Not just temper-
ature hot, but the way putting a
chili on the tongue burns the skin
hot. I wish I could sweat.
All right. Let’s go over the
thing. Let’s take this one step
at a time.
Someone took my sister
Sarah and her son, Little Jack.
They have pictures of them.
Bound to chairs in… it’s dark in
the shots, but I think it’s some
kind of ballroom.
The letter says they’re safe.
For now. I tore most of it
apart, but… I still have a piece
of it. Here:
The “tasks.” My god, I don’t
know what He/She/They
expect of me. This list of
names. I’ve not heard of most
of them. And the ones I have?
They don’t talk to me. They
won’t talk to me, and I can’t
imagine talking to them. I wouldn’t
make it through the night. I’m
supposed to find things out?
Certain things? Specific things?
The “List of the Savage and
Macabre,” the letter calls it.
I’m not going to make it. One
of them will destroy me. They’ll
eat me or tear me apart or rape
my corpse or… I don’t know what.
But I’ve heard the stories. I’m young.
I’m too young. They won’t suffer my
stupid questions. They won’t suffer
me taking notes or plunking down a
tape recorder.
Shut up, Alice! You have to do
this. Have to . Sarah. Little Jack. If
you don’t finish this, who knows what
will happen to them? Who knows what
He’ll do to them?
Yeah, He. Him. I’ve decided it’s a man. It
must be. Only a man could be so cruel.
I guess it’s time to go to work. The clock
is ticking.
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