"Thank you Mona... it had to be done..."
.....I have been addicted to many things in the course of my life so far. Love and Blue Pill the most.... deadly and fun. Khanid whiskey, fine foods, rare delicacies, like a glutton I sought them out. Hedonistic pleasures and debaucheries of the flesh. All these however you can get over and be free from.
Except maybe love.
This, however, my Quafe-Noir is insidious, deadly and more addictive than murder and theft. I know, I've done them both more times than I care to remember or reveal. It may even be the end of me, if my Mistress cannot find a cure. But I need to know what it can do to me. How it will kill me, if I let it.
But with this I can't let my self be recloned from this body. Then it will be eternal. I need to find a cure, or something before I can let myself be cloned.
Do you have any idea how difficult that is going to be? Let alone the dangers of being a damn capsuleer.... just life in general. I know I said before I like challenges... but fuck I think this is beyond even my grasps.
No matter... I have Mona watching me if I need her. She knows what to do if I get into trouble.
(click and squeel of recording)
It has been twelve hours since my last dose. I can feel it. the pain. Radiating from me in slow pulses. Like the heart beat of the sleeping damned. If I concentrate I can ignore it. But when I stop... it floods back with a vengence. Maybe fighting it isn't the way.
Part of me wants to just take the next capsule and let the blissful contemplation of that slight prick and the pressure then the flood of clarity and well being that comes with it. The other part just wants to open up my veins and see if my blood is actually bubbling. That's what it feels like, funny that, actually... no it's not funny. Blue Pill gave me hallucinations, but at least they talked to me.....
(pause, the sound of running)
I want to know what part of me pulses at this rate. I can find no neural or biological effect that pulses like this. Not my heart beat either, that has been going up and down like mad. And doing exercise or sleeping and resting... from one extreme to the other seems to halt the pain. But it doesn't stop me thinking. My mind is working overtime.
(pause and sound of drinking)
Thirsty too. But thats from the exercise, as I can't stand just lying around doing nothing. It's not me. I mean I could do it, but what's the point. I'd rather be working. Not that I can do too much work here. But I can exercise. I'm guessing that the amount of exercise I'm doing is equivalent to working in the fields. I can remember that from several months ago, was back breaking work.
What I have found is that I have to stop running slowly... if I stop suddenly then it hits. Hard. And then it takes longer to clear the pain away. So.. the more and longer I work.. the less pain I feel. Those bastards. Those ingenious bastards.
Day Three of.. this hell... my veins feel like they are transporting molten lead around my body. I hurt in places I didn't know existed. Each breath seems like a hardship, each step is agony. Lying in bed is all I want to do, it hurts the least, but I am too active, I keep moving around. All I can think of now... is an ice cold quaffe... or my quaffe-noir.... how do those poor bastards cope?
(Screams, long and drawn out fill this section before heavy footfalls can be heard getting closer)
This is Mona Deveraux. By day four Carmilla was in constant agony and had to be restrained. Medical treatment has been given, as well as a dose of...
...this Quafe-Noir. Some time in the night she attempted to scratch out her eyes, luckily I was able to restrain her, no permanent damage done. Bleeding through eyes, ears, nose, some basic cellular damage, nervous system was given a shock which quite frankly I'd be surprised she recovers from.....