Zombie

When I say that the Lovers was my worst nightmare, I'm not exaggerating.

As a  child and teenager, he  was in my head.  When I closed my eyes, I saw his smile.  When I dreamed, I was in his field.  He was my constant companion.  And he wanted out.

Can you imagine that?  Whenever I was asleep, I was with him.  Everything he has wrought upon his victims was wrought upon me.  Every night.  For years.  Others can escape their monster by running.  But mine was there.  Always there.  Pounding on the walls of his cage and smiling, always smiling, always goddamn smiling.

I knew he was trapped, somehow.  I knew it.  The only way he could contact anything was through my head...through my head, somehow. I don't know how.  I don't know why.  What could lock a Major Arcana away like that?  How could it break free?  Why did it need me to do it?

From their most recent post, it looks like one of them is the same.  Fitting he chose the same suit.

I removed him from my head.  I did what the King of Cups and his friends are trying to do.  I unleashed him on you all.

I'm not sorry.

Isn't that the funny thing?  I'm not sorry I unleashed him.  With him in my head, I was in hell.  My life was unbearable.  I stopped sleeping.  I nearly killed myself over and over and over but he wouldn't let me die.  Did you know I spent my teenage years in a mental hospital?  Because I did.  All those tests, all that therapy, and nothing helped.  Nothing ever helped because my nightmare was there, with me.

And when I released him, the first thing the Smiling Man the Lovers did was take my eyes.  He looked in my eyes and I saw so much, so very much.  Too much.  It burned them out of their sockets and I screamed and wept blood in pain and joy with the knowledge that he was out of my head.

So yes, I know it must suck to be you, King of Cups.  I know a part of you would kill your whole family, all your friends, resign the world to yet another unstoppable monster if you thought you could be rid of the terrible thing in your head.

But I'm not telling you.

Because even though I'm not sorry, I know what I did was wrong.  Even though I would do it again in an instant, I know it was unforgivable.  And even though I know the agony you are going through,  I know the agony everyone will go through.

So I'm sorry.  Just to you, I'm sorry.

The answer is still no.

Trouble

transcript

Penny(me):  Put her down on the table.  Make sure she's lying flat.
Tara: I don't...o-okay.
P:  Tara.
No response
P:  Tara, I need you with me.  This is important, all right?  Don't flip the fuck out on me right now.  I need does-things Tara, not pussies-out Tara.
T:  Okay.  Okay.
P:  Swords, how does it feel?
Jeanette: grimacing I-it feels like I've been shot in the leg.
P:  Good.  Take off Jeanette's pants as best you can.
J: ...can't you do this without stripping me?
P:  We either cut them off or take them off.  It's not like the room's full of boys you ridiculous fucking prude.
T:  Okay.  deep breath Okay, what now?
P:  Do you see an exit--
interruption.  Alice/Chelsea enters the room.
A:  I got it!  Jesus, that's a lot of blood.  Is she all..
P:  Shh!  Tara, do you see an exit wound?
T:  I don't...yes.  I think so, I mean.
P:  Do you or don't you?
T:  It's kind of ragged, I can't tell.
P:  Whatever.  We keep going under the assumption that the bullet's not in there.
T:  But what...
P:  People have gone their whole lives with things worse than bullets in them.  If it's in there we can get rid of it when she has more blood, which she's losing the more I have to explain things to you idiots.
P:  Page, do you have the suture?
A:  What the fuck is a suture?
P:  sigh Curved needle and thread.
A:  Oh!  Duh.  Right here...is she going to be alright?  Does she need my blood?  I have a lot of blood.
P:  She'll be fine if we can get her sewn up soon.  Okay.  Tara.  I'm going to need you to do exactly what I tell you to do.
T:  I'm not sure if I...
P:  You've got the steadiest hands of all of us.  You can do it and you need to do it now.
T:  Okay.  I can do this.
A:  You better.
P:  Shut the fuck up and let Tara work.

Long story short, we were led into a trap.

She's fine, by the way.  More or less.  One more addition to her scar collection.

Fuck these people.  Whoever they are.

Hear that, Flaming Ass?  Fuck.  You.

Intermission

I could tell you, and all the people following us, about our plans, how we're on the move, etc.  I could talk about my sister and Jeanette and their sickening relationship.  I could talk about how Tara's been all weird since that Pete Rivers bullshit.  I could post about any number of important, extremely relevant things.

Instead it's music video time.

Bam.