journal of immortality

August 5

Ah yes, another example of my failure to do something daily of my own free will. Yes, i missed yet another day for righting in this journal of mine, and i have no excuse save for i simply did not want to. Thankfully though, i am not here to chronical my daily working with the mountains of paperwork and bills Mrs. Moore usually piles on me, because she hasn't given me a stack of work to do today! Hurrah!
         Well, with that happy news out of the way, my assistant Anna has gone on a vacation, taking a long while off after what she had seen concerning Mark and all of the weird occurrences that have been taking place ever since the four children got here. If i may be frank, i wish i could go with her, escaping these terrifying kids and their eerie actions, but alas this orphanage needs a doctor and i cannot take leave. Well, i guess i must make the best out of my situation.
           Today was rather busy, i had the sickeningly common wounds to deal with, deep scratches, vicious bite marks, and the odd bruise or scrape. Does it seem weird that gashes and bites that leave permanent scars are more common to me now than the usual scraped knee or paper cut? Whatever, i was tending to the wounds of an eleven-year-old boy, who had a small reputation for being rude and was someone you could easily call a bully, and i noticed a strange pattern shift in the wounds. 
            I will continue that thought in a moment, but i want to scribble this down before i forget. I had asked the kid, whose name is Issac, where he had gotten his scratches, and if he saw the face of his attacker, to my surprise he claims to have gotten them from a dream. Issac told me that he had gone to sleep last night and woke up in a dark void, a tall man with shaggy black hair and a tattered black coat loomed over him, Issac began shaking as he said this as if the mere thought of this man gave him post traumatic stress. I instinctively yelled for Anna to get a glass of water for him, but soon remembered her absence.
            After he had chugged down the cold water i had given him, Issac let out a breath and continued. He said that the man stood like a statue, unmoving with his hair covering his eyes, his mouth seemed perfectly normal and he had large black talons and pasty skin. After another break to collect himself, the boy pushed on. 
            He said that the man suddenly lunged at him, clawing his arms and shoulders, leaving Issac in the dark void of blackness, Issac apparently willed himself to wake up, but it was useless, and he was left lying there in the darkness for what felt like ages. I patted him on the back while he tried not to cry, i attempted to tell him to stop, but it was to no avail, and he pushed himself on as if he was forced to tell the whole thing.  Issac continued shakily.

           He described in eerie detail as the inky darkness seemed to melt around him in his nightmare, and how he looked around in fear, holding his wounds and crying, feeling as if he was physically there, beginning to drown in the watery black void. Suddenly he began to freak out, continuing in a rushed, panicked voice describing the feeling of the water swishing behind him as if something had just passed, and the gentle feeling of a rough material like from an aged jacket brushing against his skin. I shook him by the arms gently, seeming to wake him from a trance. 

          After a long moment, he said that after that he jolted awake as if he had been thrown out of his own dream after being locked in. I patted his shoulder carefully and checked the stitches after his panic, then i sent him off with a piece of candy to calm his nerves and i set to work recording the scars in his file. How strange it is, to hear a story like that, and how eerie to recognize that description.

         Anyhow, let me continue with my analysis of his wounds. Now i had seen wounds left by christien, they were wild, usually near vital areas like wrists or near throats and stomachs, but these gashes were on Issac's arms and shoulder. They were still very deep, but they also gave the impression of not being full force, while Christien seemed to attack viciously, leaving two inch deep scratches and tearing flesh from bone when he was enraged, this attack seemed methodical, as if the creature was only scratching him in specific places, and for some reason, the four inch deep scratches don't give the impression of being as deep as they could be.