Private YouTube Video titled Journal Entry 8, uploaded by user Michelle1980 on November 3rd, 2015.
Still in the lobby of the abandoned lodge. It is night. The lamps throughout the lobby are off. The lamp on the table is off. The only light illuminating Michelle appears to be from the phone itself.
It is hard to make out details in the dark, but Michelle is slightly hunched over. As the video starts, she is drinking from a bottle of something. She stares into the camera for seven seconds before speaking.
So, it turns out I can still get drunk. That’s nice. I think.
I was going to…going to…shit, what was I going to do?
Oh, yeah. Talk about experiments.
She is slightly slurring as she talks. ‘Experiments’ sounds more like ‘essperiments.’
Well, this is an experiment!
Michelle throws back the bottle. In the dark, it’s hard to tell how full it was. But she drinks from the bottle for close to ten seconds before finally pulling it away. She tosses it behind her. It lands with a thud but does not break.
Can vampires get drunk? And the answer…is…yes.
Now, future self or whoever is watching this, you may be asking why am I so drunk? So pitifully, sadly…super fucking drunk. Okay…okay…okay…
A pause. Michelle belches.
Buhh, that tastes awful. Okay, I am drunk as an experiment. Not only can I get drunk, but will it hurt after. You know…you know…a…fuck…what’s the word…fuck…hangover! Will I be hungover tomorrow? Tune in to find out.
She points a finger at the camera. Perhaps she winks. It’s hard to tell in the dark. She begins to say something else before doubling over in pain. With one of her hands she grips the side of the table, splintering it between her fingers. A scream is forced out of her. It is sharp, piercing, and so high pitched the microphone cannot handle it. Michelle quickly bites down on the scream and forces herself to sit up. It is still eleven more seconds before she begins to talk again.
That would be the other reason I’ve been drinking. Trying to supplant one addiction for another. Maybe I’ll just be a drunk vampire all the time. Who knows? Not me. We’ll see.
She giggles. It is a pale shadow of the giggles in previous videos.
I should be honest in these things, right? Right. Of course. It’s my fucking journal, not some sort of performance piece. I’m putting this all down so I can know, in the future, how this went. In case I forget. Don’t know why I would forget. Well, this one I might. Fuck. Hey, Sober Michelle. How’s it going? Remember this? I bet you don’t.
Michelle sniffs.
The addiction is stronger than I thought it would be. I thought there would be mental cravings. All mental cravings. All the time. No, wait…yes. Mental. I thought it would all be mental. Vampires are better, faster…stronger…no pain, no cold…I didn’t think they felt anything bad. Ever. Once I hit one in the face with an aluminum baseball bat. It was a good hit. I mean, if his head was a baseball it would have been-
She imitates swinging a bat, making a knocking sound with her tongue to imitate the ball being hit by the bat, and then looks off in the distance with a hand shading her eyes.
Out of the fucking park. Hit right at the temple. I thought for sure that would get me at least a few seconds, you know, to get at him with the stake.
It fucking didn’t. He didn’t even pause. You know what he did do? He laughed at me. Laughed. Like I’d hit him in the face with…I don’t know…one of those long feathery things…snake. Feather snake. Something like that.
I remember being pissed. Who wouldn’t be, right? Best hit of my life and he shrugs it off. But I also remember being jealous. Yeah, jealous, that’s it. I remember thinking, what would it be like to be that strong? To be that fearless? If you could take a baseball bat to the face, you could take anything.
Michelle reaches for the bottle. She looks around, and then remembers she finished it and tossed it. She gets up from the table and walks out of frame. There is some shuffling around. A heavy thud. And then Michelle is back, holding a new bottle.
I mean, he couldn’t take the wooden stake I eventually got through his back, but, you know, nothing’s perfect.
Why the fuck was I talking about this?
Michelle counts something on her fingers, and then makes an ah sound.
This addiction to blood is far more physical than I anticipated. Sweating. Tunnel vision. These God damned stomach cramps. They keep getting worse. Bowling me over. I don’t know how they stand it. Well, I guess they don’t. They feed. And I can’t do that. I won’t.
She pops the top off the bottle and drinks heavily.
I just need more time. That’s all. To get this under control. I’ll find a way. I will. I have will, and with will, there’s a way. I just need more time. I’ll find a way. Stay strong. Stay myself. And when I get out of here, the others aren’t going to know what hit them.
She drinks again.
The other vampires. Other hunters, too, but they’ll only be hit with, like…being impressed. They won’t say shit about me anymore. Stop their gossip. Laughing about me. Can’t talk about me behind my back anymore, boys. I’ll hear it. And if I do hear it…
Michelle shakes her head. Drinks more, until the bottle is empty. This one she hurls behind her with all her strength. A shattering sound comes out of the dark.
It’s their fault, you know. All of this. They…they couldn’t…and them…with their words…and fucking Roy…at the party…their fault…their fault…their fault.
Michelle gets up and goes off into the darkness of the lobby. What follows is a series of sounds easily identifiable as everything breaking. Sometimes shadows fly past in the dark, but it is otherwise impossible to see exactly what is going on. This goes on for a minute and forty seconds. Then there is fifteen seconds of silence. Michelle comes out of the darkness and sits back down in front of the camera. She brushes her hair out of her face. Her hand is bleeding, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
Sorry. Emotions…go crazy…can’t seem to hold onto anything anymore. Maybe I’ll feel better in the morn…night. Tomorrow night. So weird.
Michelle leans forward to turn the camera off. She leans back, clearly thinking she has turned it off, but she hasn’t. She picks up another phone off the table. Stares at it. Pecks at it with her finger. And then, after a long pause, hits it once more. Puts it to her ear. Faintly, there is ringing on the other end. Then someone speaking, but it is clearly a canned message.
“Hey, Toby. It’s me. Just…wondering how you’re doing. On sabbatical. I’m doing great. On my sabbatical. Just…peachy. Peachy keen. Everything is copacetic. Wanted to know…if you were copacetic. Because I’m…not…uh…you know what? Ignore me, I’m drunk and this place is making me emotional. You know the place. The one I told you about. I… We’ll talk later.”
Michelle hangs up the phone and stares at it. After a few seconds she looks up at the other phone and frowns.
Oh, shit.
She finally turns the camera off. End video.
High Urban Fantasy Jazz 
Wow, I can feel the crazy sinking in here. She is definitely in the downward spiral.
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