Quiet

It's been quiet since last week. I just know this is the calm before the storm. I have four different potential threats moving in the shadows, and I can't keep track of all of them. Where is Brett? What is "Rick" doing? What is TheArsonist having Judith do now? Is that impossible thing going to make an appearance? None of them are talking. I have no idea what they could be doing. I just have to keep working on getting ready.

I do feel like I may have made a mistake coming to stay in this town. There's a constant feeling of being watched. It doesn't help that I do catch random people staring at me and following me through stores or down streets. Most often it's a cop, sometimes it's a business owner. At one point, what I can only assume was an FBI agent followed me into the park before I lost him in the woods. The stories of something bigger happening here, stories of a cult still desperately clinging to the illusion of validity and secrecy, feel true.

There's been yet another murder since I moved here. That's the ninth since around May. It's insane that there isn't more of a federal presence outside an FBI agent or two wandering about. We've hardly even received any national attention. I can only assume that someone's working hard at pulling the strings to cover things up.

I'm trying to talk Kiera into letting me meet him, the man who I'm damn sure is behind the deaths and who I also believe may be able to help Judith. She says Skhisma simply does what he pleases and she can't just call him up. I don't believe her. Still, this is me attempting to reach out.

Skhisma, I want a meeting.