Neal's Journal

[nealgordon]

It was 3:34 am as Neal tried to make himself comfortable in the 1990 Ford Fiesta. The old seats were bulgy and hard to lie on; every time he moved something creaked or rattled causing Neal’s eyes to snap wide open only for him to realize that it was nothing. Deciding to do something constructive he reached for the duffel bag that lay on the floor which was usually reserved for the feet of the backseat passengers. Blindly he fumbled around the bag between various bottles and occasional sharp objects until he finally felt the leather texture of Henries journals.

He found the Journal in Henry’s car two days after he left San Francisco, it described a vide variety of spirits, demons and other supernatural things. Something like an encyclopedia for the supernatural. The first one was written from the first page to the last, the second one contained only a few written pages and a list of other Hunters. Deciding to make the best of it he took a pen that was attached to it, flicked on the light and started writing.

“July 21st

Found the first name on the list a John Whitehorse turns out that the guy has been dead for over a month now; a stroke. Did encounter his older brother though; Jacob Whitehorse a self proclaimed shaman of the local Native American settlement. The old man gave me the creeps, every time he looked at me felt like he was looking into my soul. I didn’t know what to make of him at first nor if I should ask about the Hunting business knowing my luck I might have simply ended up in a padded cell.

Turns out the old man knew of his brothers “job”. Said that it was a job better left for other men unlike him or me, when I asked what he meant with that he gave a good long stare and told me that I knew exactly what he spoke of. That it didn’t matter how we became what we are that we had a duty to guide rather then fight, and here I thought that I was the psychic- Quite frankly I don’t know what “skills” the old man had I pretty much took off after that. At my insistence he did tell me to travel to Indiana that there I might find some answers he also told me that we are to meet again…yeah right fat chance of that happening”

Felling his starting to drop he closed the journal and placed it on the duffel bag. He leaned his head against the make shift pillow consisting out of other wrinkled clothes and closed his eyes. The light he left on, just in case.