The Rod was back tonight.
His breath smelled of the rot surrounding the great white whale that took him.

I don't even know what to think about that.

I don't even want to know what to think about that.

Every one is keeping their distance from him. All are on edge.

I don't...

Hell.

Tell you what - let's just start posting pics of the former deskmen, and move along for right now. More on what's happening next time.

Here's the Tiger for you:

 

 

I haven't seen the thing in several nights, and I can't feel its presence when out on patrol. But now the smell is there.

Haven't had much time to think lately. But this is leaving me to wonder - why is it releasing its unholy stench while remaining hidden as it is?

I don't like the only answer I've come up with -
because it's announcing itself, calling to others of its kind...

Meanwhile, the new deskman seems to be working out. Blackbird is catching on quick and has an eagerness to be good at what he does. That helps. It helps a lot. I think he'll do well on the desk. I hope he survives for a long while.

Certainly longer than the Rod did.

And rumor has it that the Paladins have found a fourth recruit. If so, we'll be fully staffed again for the first time since we lost Tpapa and the Tiger.

Speaking of whom, I'll run pics of both of them this week. But for today, here's a pic of Frankiestein:

 

 

We finally got a new deskman (Blackbird, whom I recommended). More on that real soon. Now that there's more than two of us, I'll have the chance to start posting again.

This is just a quickie to let you know of the big changes coming - I finally registered my domain. That means a couple things to this blog. The biggest is - graphics!
I'll finally have the chance to start posting some illustrations with the entries. I'll be starting with pics of the various deskmen, past and present.
To start with, here's a larger version of the icon pic used for the blog.

I'll post more when I come back on duty tonight.

see you then!

=== === ===

(For those who may be interested, the new domain is ArtOf3.com - grand opening October 1st)

 

 

The growth in dorm four spread to dorm three, but no one seems to care much. After the first anxious week, most just accepted them. A few even said they prefer it that way - makes climbing into their bunk easier, or provides a curtain of semi-privacy for them.

Then they grew in a matter of hours to enwrap the beds in dorm three. And now they've spread to dorm one, bypassing dorm two for some unknown reason.

Actually, I have a guess about that, but not one that explains the why of it.
Dorm two is different in one respect from the others - it's where the day sleepers bed down. Those who must venture out before dusk to return in the morning, and the mildly ill. We keep that dorm dark during the day for them.

Perhaps that inhibited the vines?

They seem to spring up in the first hours of light, achieving full growth by about 7am.
And then they do nothing. No source has been found, no effect perceived.
They're just there.

I'm not sure which bothers me more. The way they're spreading, or the fact that everyone seems to have decided to just ignore them.

By themselves, I might do the same. Might.
But I think of the number of odd happenings lately and wonder. The Thing has not moved on. It's evil stench is still absent, but it's out there. I haven't encountered it again the last several nights, not directly. But I've felt its presence, seen its spore. I know it's there.

I find myself eager for a new deskman to send out on some of the rounds. Doing them all myself, being the only one out there for it to find... it makes for raw nerves, leaves me on edge.

Maybe that's the main reason I worry about the vines.
But I don't think so. There's just too many deviations from the normal strangeness. And the number of bagpulls seems to be way up. The most I've ever seen in a single night was ten, and that was most unusual. Two or three would be more typical. Sometimes one or none.
But this past week, there's been a half dozen a night, on average. And twice there were nine.

We're talking 40-50 bagpulls in the last week.

That's not right. Not at all.

The cold is lingering, spreading to daylight hours now.
The regulars are disappearing with alarming frequency. New people are accepted and welcomed into the Mission, only to disappear before nightfall - fleeing rather than stay here? I don't know. But it seems that way.

Isaac, an old friend from my first days here returned yesterday. But before supper he bundled up and headed back out. He chose to sleep hiding in his vehicle, hoping for safety that he doesn't seem to think he can find here any more.
But he couldn't tell me why - only that he had to go.

And still just the two of us on the Graveyard Desk, with Frankie The Dago still unable to do more than watch and process information.

If anything happens to me, I don't know what will happen. I suppose one of the Paladins will have to step in to fill the gap. Not Michael, certainly, but perhaps Silvered Bill.

I don't know. I shouldn't think about it. Certainly shouldn't put it into binding words and give it power.

There's too damn much I don't know lately. But I do know we need to find more capable Graveyard Deskmen.

And soon...

 

 

That's all the longer the Rod lasted.
That we lost him that quick was no real surprise. I kept expecting each night to be his last. He was barely here anyway.

But the how of it was still surprising.

Some call him Ahab now.

River City may have a river running through it, but we're nowhere near the ocean.

And yet - the Rod was snatched by a great white whale.
A befouled creature, surrounded by a miasma of rot.
It claimed the contents of Diesel's stomach.

Diesel is one of the roughest of the deskmen, working day and evening, and even into the graveyard shift at times. He's faced and dealt with a host of vile things in his time at the Mission, and before.
But when confronted by the great white whale, he lost it.
Quite literally.
His system emptied out into the nearest wastebasket in response to the presence of the creature.

While he and the others were incapacitated or frozen in shock, the white whale engulfed the Rod and was gone.

No one tried to follow.
Nor did he seem to want to be rescued.


They just stared in horror of the beast, in relief that it was gone, and in stunned wonder at the half smile on the Rod's face as it carried him away.

And so we are but two again, just Frankiestein and I.
The hunt for new Graveyard Deskmen continues.

I suggested recruiting the Blackbird. I know he's interested in the job, and he's smart as a crow.*
But the decision belongs to the Paladins; it is not mine to make.

So we'll see what tomorrow brings. And carry on as best we can, as always...

=== === ===

*(Yes, crows are indeed really damn smart. It's not a slam. Crows are better tool makers than chimpanzees, even. For a little more info - and even video of a crow making a hook from a piece of wire - check these brief articles at National Geographic: One Two)

 

 

The nights are darker, and temperatures are dropping fast. Already into the 30s at night. And the thing is out there again.

But there is no trace of its trademark stench of evil.
Always - Always - we scent the beast and rarely sight it. But three times I saw it tonight, and not once did I smell it.

The Rod is of questionable use. We wonder if we send him out into the night on security rounds, "Will he find his way back?"

So I'm out on most of the rounds, and now the Thing is out there. With no warning to give it away until it's already upon me.
Not fifteen paces out of the Mission it stepped from the brush in front of me.

I froze on the spot, the closest I had ever come to the beast. Dark eyes shining bright beneath a heaping mound of thick fur, black as night, with luminous stripes in the fur giving shape to the Thing.

Keeping torch high, I took two steps slowly back, then began backing steadily away under its dark gaze.
I decided to reverse the route on my patrol. Purely for security reasons, of course. It's always best to vary the routine, you know.

Patrol was routine until I approached the trailers, and there was the Thing again. It emerged from the trailers, almost casually sauntering toward me.
Suddenly I remember I needed to check and see if the newspapers had been delivered. So I reversed my course to circle back around to the Mission proper.

After checking the delivery zone to see if the papers had arrived (none had), I started to head around the Mission to the other side to the main gate back inside.

And there it was again. Far too close - close enough for it to attack with ease. Breath stopping in tight chest, I backed slowly away, hoping it would let me leave without marking me with its fury.

At that point I recalled...

I got nothing - I turned and ran. I headed as fast as I could the other way around the Mission and sealed the gates with a resounding Slam! as I rushed back inside.

I don't know what happened - why the Thing's stench is gone. But it's dangerous as Hell.

There's no warning any more.

We're at the Thing's mercy...

 

 

The new kid arrived today. He's called the Rod.
We didn't ask why.
He's short and skinny with no apparent reason for the name.
He's slow to train, but he's quick to spend time on the phone and online with various pick-up women.

Somehow, I don't see him lasting long.

Watching him leaves me thinking of the Tiger and Tpapa Fred. Of how the pressure finally sent the Tiger feral.

And I know I added to the pressure.

I treated them based on the deskmen before them instead of learning what they needed. And so when all the other pressure came down, they were already feeling the strain; they snapped.

Now they're gone.

And the thing still comes freely in the night, leaving its evil stench and fading away again.
Still no one has a workable idea on how to deal with it. We just try to keep the Mission itself safe, and leave the night to it.

And now there's the new kid.

I look at him and all I can think is "fodder"

 

 

Help Support The Mission!

Now available: Gear featuring the Graveyard Desk logo:


Currently available: T-Shirt, Cap, Mug, Mousepad, Sketchbook/Journal and Fine Art Print.

Yes, it's the nearly inevitable Graveyard Desk CafePress Store.

Items have been marked up $5.00, which goes directly to the Mission.
Or, if you prefer to do without the cool gear, but still wish to make a contribution, send a check or money order for whatever you can afford to:

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1224 E. Trent
Spokane, WA 99220-0066

Credit card donations may be made over the phone at:

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Thanks for any support you can provide.

We now resume our regularly scheduled blog already in progress...


...


and forced showering had no result. At this point, our best suggestion is to put him up on the roof. It would keep the smell inside the Mission to a minimum, and the odor on the wind might scare away other creatures of the night.

But we're not quite to that stage yet.

Hopefully we'll find another solution - but we need to find it fast.
This situation can't last long. Not if we're going to survive the week.

 

 

How long has it been?
Three days? Four days? Five?
I don't know - it's all fragments...

The Tiger and Tpapa Fred are ... gone. Just gone.

First the thing returned - its evil stench announcing its presence in the night. We couldn't stay hidden inside the Mission; rounds still had to be made. But never knowing how close the creature was - smelling it, feeling it, out there in the dark...
The pressure started working into each of us. Even deskbound Frankie could feel it.
I remember all that clearly. And thinking that we'd never get the smell out of our nostrils.

And then...

then it all breaks down into pieces. What happened when? in what order? What... just, what.

What?

The thing's eyes gleaming in the torch light...across the lot...just staring at me, not moving forward or away...

The Tiger's stripes coming up...he goes feral on one of the brothers...

Tpapa charging out in to the night after him...

Both Gone.

The sounds...wet dark noises scraping through the dark...

Tension in the main hall...wondering eyes...accusing stares...questions no one wants to ask....

Angry flare-ups through out the day...restless walkers in the night...

And now just Frankie and I working the graveyard desk. The Paladins will be recruiting. Soon they'll send another fresh face to us. Another to look at and wonder how long they'll last.

Keep wondering how long they'll last...so I never have to wonder how long until it's me...