Private YouTube Video title Journal Entry 1, uploaded by user Michelle1980. User’s profile has no image and no further information. Video uploaded September 20th, 2015.
Video begins with a woman reaching for the camera – presumably a phone – and shifting it around until she is square in the frame. Fortyish, brown hair, blue eyes, wearing jeans, a black t shirt and a leather jacket. There is a scar on her chin, and when she lifts her hands her knuckles are scuffed and scabbed like she has recently been in a fight. She is in an unidentifiable SUV in the back of a large parking lot. It is morning. She occasionally sips from a Starbucks venti cup. Once she is sure the framing is right, she begins talking:
Okay, so…I have an idea. I’m going to document everything. I thought at first I’d keep a journal but then I was like, it’s 2022, who keeps journals anymore? And anyway, it’s not like I have a good place to hide it. Someone could find it, and try to stop me, and…
She waves a hand.
Most of the others are ten years older than me, at least. And none of them know how to work a computer, let alone get into my locked phone and find private YouTube videos. I mean, half the time when they try to show me something it’s some shitty Facebook video or on one of those awful news pages with all the ads and stuff…this is more secure. I think.
I’m keeping this one close to the vest. So, if you’re watching this then everything went to plan and I’ve published my findings. Or I’m dead. Those are the only two options I can see. I set up one of those dead man’s triggers. If I don’t log in every day, everything will be sent to Toby. So, Toby, if you’re watching this…
Um, anyway. This idea I have…it’s got to be done right. I’m going to make one of these for every step. It’s a good idea. And it will work.
I think.
Okay, no more being cryptic. Here it is, my good idea:
I’m going to get turned. On purpose.
Bitter laugh.
Man, all I can hear is the voices of the other guys. This is why I’m telling you…keeping this journal…and not talking to them, because I know what they’d say. I can hear them laughing, thinking I’m making some sort of sick joke. And then they would see my face. And then they would be like, is this some sort of sick joke and I would have to say no and I would try to explain but they’d talk over me. They’d steamroll me. Just like they always do.
Pause while she drinks from her coffee cup.
They would jump all over each other to tell me why this is such a bad idea but none of them would actually give me a good damned reason why it’s not. Just empty talk like I should already know.
Well, I don’t. I don’t see it. This is the way I see it:
One: They are physically superior in just about every way. Stronger, faster, they can see in the dark. Think about what good can come of that, if held by the right person?
Two: They’re all monsters, sure, but I think we see it wrong. I think they were monsters before they were turned. I think they self-select, see. And if they choose the wrong person, a good person, that person kills themselves quick.
Three: I am a good person but I won’t kill myself and I won’t become a monster. I am going into this with a clear head. I will not be surprised by what happens to me. I’m not some civilian who doesn’t know shit about dick, okay?
Four: I will use what they have for good. For the job. I’ll have something to focus on, and that should keep the addiction pangs at bay. I’ve never really had an addictive personality before, I don’t gamble or drink, so this part should be easy.
Pause while she stares outside her window. She tries to drink from her coffee cup but it’s empty.
The only thing I wish could be different is help. I wish I could have someone with me, to better watch my progress. But I can’t tell anyone. Toby thinks I’m taking a sabbatical, basically. Long vacation. He needs one, too, so he went off to his family. That’s good. He always gets so distracted when he’s with them. He won’t notice how long I’m gone.
Long, shaky breath.
Okay, anyway, this starts tonight. I’ve scouted out this bar on the outskirts of town, got a few of them hanging around, looking for easy marks. Well, tonight, they’re going to get out. Only if they want a meal, they’re going to have to make a deal.
Her eyes widened and then puts a hand over her mouth, looking embarrassed.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to rhyme. Fucking stupid. I think I’m just nervous. I mean, who wouldn’t be? I’m rambling at this point. And there’s still some stuff I have to do before night fall, so I better just…
She sits up straight in the car seat and moves closer to the camera, her eyes locked onto the lens.
My name is Michelle Willett, and I am of sound mind and body. Tonight, I will be turned into a vampire.
After a pause, Michelle leans forward and fumbles with the phone for a few seconds. The image stops and there is six seconds of black before the video ends.
High Urban Fantasy Jazz 