Keeping my thought aligned...

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March 18

I never thought things would progress as to make me keep a journal, but in light of recent events, ones that make my head spin and my body purchase a basement full of illegal weaponry, I figured the time was ripe for a new place to store ideas and what not.

Yesterday's events started with me meeting a contact, chasing a sniper, and getting shot. However, I was not going to be the same old Steve Rowland after the events of yesterday. I had no idea before that vampires roamed the streets of this city, but it is true. I am now to be attached to one of them, a woman named Trinity Leigh Jordan. In order to finish the job, we will be meeting during the next couple of nights. I am to be her "familar", which means that she is basically my master. Vampires will not try to off me, but I now belong to her, like a pet. She actually bit me! I found two fang marks in my crossbow wound. I guess the most disturbing part of the whole experience was my own reactions. Instead of freaking out like I should have, I took these fantastic details in without so much as a single twitch. To be honest, things have been going out of control in my life for a while now. I think I'll just take things one day at a time. I still can't believe she frickin' bit me!

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March 19

The basement is finished. I have stocked it up good, with a variety of weapons, including GAU17s, flamethrowers, assult rifles, SMGs, full-blown machine guns, explosives, and the like. Let those fanged bastards come and get me now...

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Trin and I have something to work on: whenever she bites me, a rage like nothing I have ever know swept over me, and I attacked her. I need to control this. If I need to feed her in a combat situation, I cannot be handcuffed like I was last night. Our meeting tonight must be re-arranged, for I have work to do tonight. Hopefully she wont mind. Aslo, Pual Aricson, an old highschool buddy who joined the USMC, is moving into the area. I just hope he doesn't run afoul of Trin.

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I have a new problem, shall we say. Whenever Trin isn't near me, I long to be with her. When she is with me, a desire for closeness to her almost overwhelms me. I really need to fix this. Maybe another of Trin's kind can tell me what I need to know. Only one question burns in me: why do I feel this way about her. If it were normal circumstances, I would think I was in love, but two things challange that: one, I don't feel that way about anyone, and two, Trin keeps treating me like a chew toy, so I cannot be sure of anything anymore. Good god, what is happening to me?!?!?!

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The mission was a success, somewhat. I was wounded in battle, but I'll make it. The industrial district of Nachton didn't fare as well. A good-sized chunk, more that six blocks in diameter, was torched by my bombing. Trinity said that her "Elder," which I took to mean "commanding officer," would have her busted down, so I think there might be a problem on that front.

I found out where my comrade lives. It's this big-ass manor house a good way out of town. Funny thing is, it's full of vamps. Yeah, like I wanted to end up in that kind of a joint. I hope to God, hell, and everything in between that it's the only one of it's kind.

I haven't had contact with Nikki in a while. I should probably track her down.

In all, this has been a mess of a week. I feel the urge to go drinking tonight.

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Pual is in town. And I am going back to the Special Forces. I am due back at Site 26 tomarrow night, so I need leave now. I write this, as a message for my three friends in this world: To Pual, you know how these things work, you're Uncle Sam's bitch untill you get home. Please do not htink poorly of me. Nikki: I love you too much to put into words, and, should I perish on the field of battle, please forgive me for leaving you like this. And to my third friend, you know who you are, I love you as well, and I wish the best for you in your endevors.

I am leaving this journal on the table, sould anyone come to my home, please deliver it to Leigh Williams, who will convey my messages to my three friends. Her number is in my adress book.

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(OOC NOTE: Steve Rowland was gone for three months, and never called home once. He was wounded in battle and, after his three-week period on this mission, he was hospitalized for the remaining two months, with third-degree burns, a large gash on his chest, and numerous other minor injuries. He returned in the middle of September, with a few new scars, a brand-new M-16A2, and gifts for Trin, Pual, and Nikki from Kazakastan, where his team had been deployed.)