What do I even say?
Sitting here in my own room in twenty fuckin thirty-two, and not only am I trapped in here, but I can’t even see the wards keeping me in. Can’t sense anybody down on the street. Can’t try to contact Artemis or Rhiannon. Feels like…being claustrophobic, maybe, or something. No way to get out of my own head, it’s driving me nuts. Had to spend an hour in there with the punching bag just to feel normal for a while. That douchebag could be scrying me and I’d never know, not that it matters. The fuck am I gonna do, bust his TV? I’m sure he’ll be heartbroken.
Bet it hurt when we trashed his car though. Dammit, I can’t even feel good about that, that was a beautiful car.
Thank God I’m alone in here again, though, inside my mind. That fuckin wolf. At least it betrayed the Princeps enough to get the girls out of here, but I didn’t even get an apology out of that mutt. I guess it figured whatever I did to myself, I deserved it.
It’s weird how this place feels like mine, even though it’s not really. Guy’s got everything I’d put in a penthouse suite of my own if I had the money. Some of his shit’s even actually mine, he kept it all this time, like my ring. And my Colt, though he must’ve spiced it up at some point.
Pandemonium might be Hell, but at least it was my Hell. This is like…an impersonal, uncaring Hell that gives not a single shit about what I become or where I’m going. Well, fuck it. I may be cut off from my soul right now, but I’m still a goddamn Mastigos and this is just another test. Another Awakening. When you’re in control of nothing whatsoever is when you climb the tower of the Iron Gauntlet, so get off your ass and figure this out, Adrian. There’s gotta be something you can do.
If I stole my own soul, where would I put it? …inside myself, if I could swing it. Or in a hidden spatial pocket somewhere, if not. Which helps me not at all, unless I can somehow kill the bastard.
Most difficult hit of my life, huh? At least it’s one I’m giving myself. Seems important.