The Vault of Heaven

The Murder have carried me on their blackened wings and brought me impossibly high, dragged me into the clouds. I have seen citadels of thunderclouds and floating rock high above the earth.

In the voice of the lightning, they have told me the name of the place up there: the Vault of Heaven, a world far above our own where the only source of light is the lightning that rides the Murder wherever they go.

When the Murder inside me fill me with their power, I feel the lightning ride me too.

Haunted

A thunderstorm destroyed my place of work. That was the thunder and lightning from last night.

As I arrived, birds emerged from the burning ruins, unscathed in spite of the fire that blazed even in the pouring rain.

I heard the voice in the lightning speak once more as they flew overhead.

"Quinton Grimm. You are one of our own.
"You are our shelter, a tool for the crows."

There were no deaths. Nevertheless, I think I know why the Murder destroyed the building: they knew I hated it there, and they wanted to earn my loyalty.

They do not understand humanity, but they have ultimate power over us all.

The end of the world does not come to Atkins not because it will not come, but because it already has.

The Murder of Crows

The crows spoke to me. I swear to God that somehow, the crows spoke to me. They didn't speak in words, though. They spoke through the storm.

You see, at midnight exactly, a hundred crows cawed and thunder clapped. And somehow, I made out words in the sound of thunder that echoed from lightning that must have been miles away.

"Quinton Grimm," it said. "The Murder of Crows is coming."

I can feel something shifting inside my skin. Its talons are cold and sharp.

I'm a worm in the claws of something so much bigger than myself, and I am so scared.

Hunted

I feel like there's something watching me all the time. Not maliciously, not judgmentally, just waiting to see what I do. I don't know what it is, but I have an idea.

And I keep getting these feelings, like something's moving underneath my skin.

My heart is racing all the time, and I don't know why. I feel like I'm going to suffer from a heart attack or something because it's beating so fast all the time. I think people have started to notice it, the way I look around like something's after me, the way I flinch at every loud noise I hear.

But I don't know if I care that people notice something's wrong. I have bigger things to deal with.

Dark clouds

It's getting darker and darker out lately. The weather's not as cold as it's supposed to be, but the days are definitely getting shorter. Combined with the constant thunderstorms, it feels like the apocalypse itself is gonna come down on Atkins one of these days.

All these birds don't help, either. They're all crows, because I guess Atkins is just acutely aware of how much they creep people out.

Actually, I saw a giant flock of crows sitting on a telephone pole as I went to work today. All of them turned to look at me as I passed.

Their caws sounded somehow malicious, like they were laughing at me.

Little creeps.

Birds?!

Last post, I said I couldn't go outside anymore. That's true. However, the fact that we're constantly having crappy weather hasn't stopped me from having to go work at 7 in the morning and pretend to be happy despite having woken up at 6:30 and gone to work in the worst weather you can get other than snow, god, we get so much snow up here.

...Anyways. Point is, I saw my boss, Lydia, get attacked by crows on the way to work- you know, because apparently I live in a Hitchcock film now. I don't know what you're supposed to do in that kind of situation, but running did the trick. Mostly. She still got scratched up pretty bad.

Birds?

There are a lot of birds out lately. Not sure what's up with that.

And it's been storming a lot. Not the snowy kind, which is weird, given it's the Upper Peninsula we're talking about here. I've seen snow in July before up here. No, it's just been raining and thundering.

It's getting to the point where I can barely go outside most days.

You'd think the birds would've gotten the whole "flying south for the winter" message by now. Maybe they're just getting thrown-off by the odd weather patterns we've been having lately.