9/4/25 Leaving Ohio
Unexpectedly on the move today. Had to send a blood message to Bune of the Sublime Abs for (according to Willow it’s called) a rain check. She says I should get a phone, so I can text instead of blood message, but I prefer books, scenery, and blood to europium induced visions.
Speaking of, Mal had a vision last night. Something about his little girl being in trouble…. He has five so we’re all waiting to find out which one. Kind of hoping it’s Evangeline, bitch is insane and can sprout wings at will. We always have fun terrorizing the locals at night. If it’s Iahel I’m not getting out of the van. Piper I would die for if, I could die. Never met the other two, although one belongs to the Writer, Rebecca. The fifth is a complete mystery to all of us. Possibly to Mal, too, who knows.
Driving through Iowa. Corn. Corn. Corny corn. Imagining what happens in the middle of cornfields. Not Bune and I. Not me choking out a gryphon so I can lick those perfect abs, a trail of saliva dripping and pooling in his voidlette of a bellybutton. More likely it’s infidelity and teenage pregnancy. Drug deals. Hate crimes. The true wages of a mind-controlled populace.
Mal did not take to my suggestion that we stop and leave some pentagrams in the middle of fields, though he did tap the back of his top hat, which he only does when he’s amused. But I could see the worry in his eyes. Whatever we’re heading into, it’s not good. He’s got us, in the van, driving like stygian winds, with The Ring Master bringing the rest of the Circus behind us at a less punishing pace. Tigers need regular walks and scratchies. My goats will sleep the whole ride. As I’ve commanded them.
We just crossed into Illinois, which means we’re either going to Iahel, or Piper.
Please let it be Piper. Dear cosmos I cannot endure Iahel.
Heaven the Unspeakable
I was, it seems, somewhat hyperbolic in my agony as of my last writing. It is impossible for anyone to communicate with demons from On High. Evelyn was not plotting, she says, merely avoiding me. She says she can’t bear to look at my dumbfucking face and that she wishes my soul had stayed rotting in the ocean. She hopes, additionally, that sea cucumbers are shitting in my skull….
There are more insults unbecoming a lady of breeding, I won’t mention them. She has certainly grown her vocabulary since last I saw her. If only she had grown her bosom, she’s still rather flat chested. And of course she refuses to corset.
Whilst I’m writing this she’s in the parlor carving a perfect circle into the hardwoods. She says it’s for “yoga” which is not something I’d ever heard of. They have it in Hell though, some kind of mind and body exercise. Balderdash. A brisk stroll along the lovely Nazareth Promenade here is all that’s needed to keep a body in shape. There’s a quaint gift shop there as well, I quite enjoy it. I wonder if Evelyn would enjoy a stroll…
9/4/25 Deadwater
I took Miriam shopping. We went to get dinner. I guess I wanted to tell her in a public place so she couldn’t freak out on me.
It didn’t work. I told her that her father was the demon Malphas and that’s why she’s different.
She threw her drink at me. Told me to stop making fun of her all the time. Called me an evil witch.
Jesus I must have been horrible to her all these years.
I’ll fix this. I have to.
We’re home now. She’s in the back yard in the dark, listening to the ground. I’m ransacking the house for anything, any evidence that what I’m saying is true. How do I prove this? I must have kept something of his. But what will that even mean to her?
I found it. I found it. Yes! Malphas can transform into a crow and once when he did he dropped some feathers for me. I bound them up together and wore them as a necklace pendant, back then. They spoke to me, just now, guided me to them in the attic. Just touching them, it’s like, a jolt. She has to feel this.
I took the feathers out to her. She was lying on her side in the grass, ear to the ground.
“What do you want to humiliate me out here for? No one around to witness it,” her voice held little emotion. I brushed the feathers against her hand. She shot up and grabbed them, holding them tightly to her cheek. “Mommy?”
“I know that I’ve been horrible to you in the past. I wasn’t sure how to deal with this secret and I’m sorry, there’s no excuse.”
“It’s true?”
“Yeah, honey, it’s true.” For the first time I felt the truth of it, too, down to my core. It was almost like the past years had been inside the Magician’s top hat. I’d just pulled them out like a white rabbit.
Miriam’s arms were around me, she was sobbing. I was sobbing. It was a whole thing.
“No one else can know about this, ok?”
“I know, mom, it’s ok.”
She smelled like him. I held her tighter.
