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LiveJournal for Sebastian Brady.

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Friday, May 20th, 2005

Time:1:29 am.
Mood: crushed.
I shut the door to my loft behind me and slumped against it. My body slid to the floor and I ended up with my head in my hands.

That chance meeting with Chase Reynolds had driven my morale for the day into the pavement.

It's always when I think I'm getting better that something like this happens and I end up at rock bottom again. And people ask why I like to drink. I ran my hands over my head and stared at the ground.

Why hadn't the fucking cops told me everything? I mean, of course I was young at the time, but that shouldn't have stopped them from giving me all the information. Knowing there was a survivor out of the attack would've helped me just a bit. And I've known that it was a werewolf since the second I was told that Dom had been killed, but hearing about it again really fucked with me.

The only thing that ate at me was the fact that Chase was still alive. Humans don't survive werewolf bites or scratches unless they contract lycanthropy. Maybe he'd run while the son of a bitch was devouring Dom.

Thinking about it was driving me crazy. It was still early, so I couldn't go out and kill anything. I'll just take out my aggression with the only other physical way I know how.


I had broken a heavy sweat before I'd gone one mile. It was two miles to the beach, so I had another mile of sweating to go. My feet slapped the ground as I ran along the sidewalk. I was breathing steadily, but I had to slow my pace to keep from overheating. By the time I reached the sand, I was ready to collapse. I didn't have the mental energy to do anything but exercise, so I only stayed on the beach for a moment. I was back on the sidewalk sprinting for home before I'd stopped huffing.

I practically broke through my front door. I made a quick stop in my training room to grab some tape, and then I was on my patio. Since my loft was on the top floor of the building, I didn't have to worry about banging around much. I kept my heavy bag hanging outside so I could breathe easier when I worked out. Sometimes the training room made me claustrophobic.

I quickly wrapped my wrists and threw a few warm up punches to the bag. A few straight punches and jabs later, I was going at it as usual. 'Keep your fists tight, punch with your arm, not your hand...'

Everything I'd learned swarmed in my head as I tried to keep myself from getting too angry and hurting my wrists. I grunted as I threw punch after punch.

I couldn't get the images of Dom's mangled body out of my head. I'd been the only one around to identify him in the morgue, so I was forced to see him. Not five minutes after I'd identified him, I threw up. I'd never been one for human gore, especially if that gore belonged to someone I loved.

I'd only been boxing for 20 minutes when at a noise the door behind me scared me. I quickly turned with my hands in front of me, entirely ready to kick the shit out of whoever it was, but stopped when I recognized the face.

"Christ, Jaye," I said, lowering my fists.

Doesn't anybody knock these days?
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Tuesday, May 17th, 2005

Time:6:47 pm.
Just testin' a little something...
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Wednesday, May 11th, 2005

Time:1:41 am.
Mood: stressed.
Jaye was the first girl I'd ever had in my loft who wasn't going to be one of my sexual conquests. It was a little weird. I almost didn't know how to act, so I did the best thing I knew. I offered her a drink. Lucky for me, she wanted one. Alcohol always takes the anxiety out of things.

I saw her wander back to my training room, so I followed her back there.

She was the first person I'd told about Dominic that I wasn't planning on killing two minutes later. It felt good to tell someone. The last thing I wanted was pity, but telling her took about a feather's weight of the load off my chest. Then I'd told her to watch her ass.

She knew it, but I felt better telling her that she needed to watch her ass out there. I didn't want to come off like I was trying to tell her what to do, but she is younger than me, and she is an attractive female, so I couldn't help it. Looking out for her is in my manly nature.

"There's a lot of bad people out there," I told her.

"There's good people, too," she said.

I thought for a second before I acknowledged her answer.

"Yeah, I know there are. People just like you and me, fighting the fight. I know there aren't a lot, either. But they're out there. Just haven't run into any yet," I said.

It was a rumor. I'd heard that there were other people like us here. I really hoped that it was true, because the ways things had been going lately...Jaye and I alone wouldn't be enough. My guess was that we'd stick together now. Having another gun around would definitely make things easier. I'd never admit it, but it might be good to have someone watching MY ass, too.

As for the others like us...all we had to do now was find them.

[Open to all nightstalkers]
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Tuesday, May 3rd, 2005

Time:11:00 pm.
Fuck, I don't even need to look anymore.

There really comes a time when you realize that you drink too much. Way too much.

Actually, the time came and went years ago, but I didn't really pay attention. If anything, I think I drank even more.

I pulled the glass away from my lips as I lowered the .45 from the target at the end of the room. Damn. I swirled the amber liquid around and stared at the red and white circle with the bullethole directly in the center.

It's sad that I almost drank the entire glass before I went through that round. Maybe I should start making a game of it. Or maybe I need to get a fucking life, I don't know.

I tossed the gun on the couch to my right and saw the clock on the table next to it. 9:30. It was almost time to go, and I wasn't even wearing a damned shirt. I carried the nearly empty glass with me through my darkened loft to my bedroom. As I passed the kitchen, I noticed my alarm panel blinking slowly red.

"I could've sworn I set that," I said aloud as I frowned and looked around the room. It was deathly silent, and nothing moved. Nothing but me. I drew the gun I had in the waistband of my jeans and turned around. Nothing. I set my glass down and set off for the other rooms of the loft. A quick check assured me that nothing but me was there.

I shrugged and made my way back to my bedroom. I kept my gun in my hand and rifled through one of my drawers with it. A grey shirt. A black jacket. That'd complete the Sebastian ensemble for the night. I grabbed my watch off my nightstand and went to the small weapons closet in the hall. I'll never get over the feeling I get when I open it. A rush of adrenaline and a heat of anger.

I shurgged it off and grabbed enough artilery for a small army. Like most nights, I knew I'd need it.

I didn't need keys for where I was headed. I was walking. The battlegrounds were the area just around my loft. Yeah, welcome to LA.

A creak in the hardwood floor made me snap my face to the end of the hall. The living room. The only room I hadn't checked. I grabbed my gun again and crept to the living room.

"You did set that alarm, you know."

I whirled around and set my sight on a girl just to my left. She looked familiar to me. It wasn't possible, though. Vampires shouldn't look familiar to me; I kill every one I come into contact with.

"What happened to not coming in unless you're invited?" I asked her. I kept my aim right at her face.

"You did invite me, once," she said, and she smiled. Shit. Now I knew why she looked familiar. I've got to stop bringing girls home with me. One night stands never helped anybody.

I was fast enough to shoot her just as she lunged at me. I let out the breath I was holding and watched her ashes float to the ground. I did another sweep of my place before I holstered my gun again. Now I was sure there was no one.

Something was definitely up. Not only were they everywhere outside, but now they were coming into my house. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, I was really going to need some help.
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Monday, May 2nd, 2005

Time:1:16 am.
Mood: aggravated.
Just testing the layout a bit...
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LiveJournal for Sebastian Brady.

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