Of course, it had already begun in a few timelines, but we will mark today as the official beginning.
Today shall be the Valentine's Day Massacre replayed, nearly a century later.
Second Halloween. Devil's Night. VDay Massacre.
No matter the timeline, or the name for these events, blood shall flow through the streets.
This Culling was originally only meant for the Mardi Gras District. Nola and 251.
Intrepid districts from other timelines and regions got word of my plans for the Culling..
And copycat'ed to their own districts. Their own Cullings, but without the rules.
I never meant for this many to die, but it is too late now to do anything about it.
My name is Lilith. Or, well, was. I have become the avatar for the Convocation..
This Culling was originally only meant for the Mardi Gras District. Nola and 251.
Intrepid districts from other timelines and regions got word of my plans for the Culling..
And copycat'ed to their own districts. Their own Cullings, but without the rules.
I never meant for this many to die, but it is too late now to do anything about it.
My name is Lilith. Or, well, was. I have become the avatar for the Convocation..
And I cannot wait to die.
When I met with Tag that last time, I was aware I was saying goodbye. I knew what was coming, and dragged my feet as long as I dared. I knew that I would be lost as soon as I signed that contract.
With the Convocation's help, I came forward in my own form, finally having a body of my own once more.
Poor Jack got booted back to my home in No Man's Land. I suppose it will be hers when I pass.
I came to her, mentally, in the days before the Contract was signed. Begged for her help. Told her what I had in mind for Sanctuary, for the world, for us. Begged her to be the Judas I needed so desperately.
I knew the Contract would have a heavy toll to pay in order to pass, with our lives attached.
I knew one of us had to die to make way for Underland. And to be honest.. I've been ready since the Sacramento fire of '14. You see, my own Gallows never came for me the way Jack's did. Mine just.. disappeared. Haunted me occasionally. Scribbled a hastily drawn bloody heart on my bathroom mirror on this day, Valentine's Day, each and every year. Just enough for me to miss him.. and go mad.
It got to where I stopped washing the blood from the mirror. Left it.. all year long.
I originally got the bloody heart tattoo to remember him when I thought he had died.
Eventually, it became a mark of my own sanity to myself. That he was real. I hadn't imagined it all.
This becomes relevant again, because this year, I had a visitor.
It was while I was "sleeping." What the poor bastard didn't realize was, every inch of my land is recorded.
Incoming video saved as soon as it happens. Back-ups upon back-ups.
As soon as I woke, I knew exactly what had happened while I slept. And it broke my heart.
This is a fairly accurate depiction of Sanctuary right now. And so.. I will just leave you all with the record.
-begin video playing-
A lanky, self-sure man with coal black hair walked up my step, eyes wide as he did so.
Crows and ravens roost on every surface surrounding my home.
Blood is still wet on the streets, on the door handle, bloody footprints on the porch.
Like a bloodbath had just begun, and people had fought to get in and out Sanctuary's doors.
The strange man in the skeletal hoodie walks inside, cautiously, poking his head in rooms as he does.
Eventually, it became a mark of my own sanity to myself. That he was real. I hadn't imagined it all.
This becomes relevant again, because this year, I had a visitor.
It was while I was "sleeping." What the poor bastard didn't realize was, every inch of my land is recorded.
Incoming video saved as soon as it happens. Back-ups upon back-ups.
As soon as I woke, I knew exactly what had happened while I slept. And it broke my heart.
This is a fairly accurate depiction of Sanctuary right now. And so.. I will just leave you all with the record.
-begin video playing-
A lanky, self-sure man with coal black hair walked up my step, eyes wide as he did so.
Crows and ravens roost on every surface surrounding my home.
Blood is still wet on the streets, on the door handle, bloody footprints on the porch.
Like a bloodbath had just begun, and people had fought to get in and out Sanctuary's doors.
The strange man in the skeletal hoodie walks inside, cautiously, poking his head in rooms as he does.
Stacks of paperwork, journals, relics, and personal effects line the walls behind glass, like a gallery.
The kitchen is filthy with dirty dishes, blood coating the floor proper.
The television in the common area is cracked, hanging askew, as if someone had fallen into it.
He pokes about a bit more, cleans up the kitchen, gathers the papers, and generally organizes.
His every touch mildly reverent, as if touching the crumbling remains of the past.
The television in the common area is cracked, hanging askew, as if someone had fallen into it.
He pokes about a bit more, cleans up the kitchen, gathers the papers, and generally organizes.
His every touch mildly reverent, as if touching the crumbling remains of the past.
Eventually, the bag of bones spots the drop down ladder leading to the upper floor: my attic.
He reaches the threshold of my room, body still half obscured by the landing and steps, and.. stares.
The walls of my room are a dark blue, with black out curtains over the single paned window.
Posters, notes, and photographs from at least 20 timelines compete for wall space.
Runner and proxy journals lay in stacks around the bed, meticulous and cruel in their sorting system.
A darkly garbed bed with accents of green sits off to one corner, on the floor, in the Japanese style.
His head swivels as he attempts to take it all in: a fan, a tv, my dark blue laptop plugged in at my desk, clothes of a thousand styles in the closet. It looks like the dorm room for 5 people exploded.
In the middle of it all, my body lay as I slept. No pulse, no heartbeat.
A sheath of shining copper hair splayed out on the black satin pillows, sunlight catching the strands.
A sheath of shining copper hair splayed out on the black satin pillows, sunlight catching the strands.
I imagine I looked like a dream and a nightmare all at once. I believe I am.
Skin pale as the moon, tiny as I hadn't been eating properly for weeks prior to this.
I slept in the nude, a dark green sheet pulled up to my shoulders, haphazardly placed.
The man stared at me the longest. I can't quite blame him.
He begins to rearrange tiny insignificant things in my room. To annoy me, I imagine.
Gallows catches sight of the impromptu mural we created on our wall.
Pictures, events, and notes on every death in twenty timelines. For everyone involved.
Brightly colored yarn connecting each timeline, crisscrossing over an infinite number of times.
We couldn't keep track of them all in our head, you see. Too many voices trying to speak at once.
His fingertips brush against several pictures, mentally logging the differences.
Jack's picture adorned the very middle of the mural, the original, angry at the world.
Shoulder length black hair, twelve piercings both seen and unseen, tattoos covering her body.
Heartbroken eyes, staring out from behind the dark hair she perpetually kept in her face
A calculating expression on her face. Her attempts at a hostile expression amusing in their attempt.
The picture obviously quite old, likely taken between the fall of 2012 and of 2014.
Surrounding this picture are the pictures of her lovers from that timeline.
Some cuddling her, some kissing her, some just washing dishes. All clearly in love.
Branching out from these pictures are the pictures from every other timeline.
Advy. Gallows. Shady. Owen. David. Numerous others.
A rainbow of differently colored hair, facial expressions, and body language.
All clearly reincarnations of the same person.. with the same lovers.. and the same sad endings.
The skeleton man tugged the middle picture out from beneath the thumbtack, tearing the edge a bit.
He stares at it a bit longer, smiles, and blows it a kiss. Absent mindedly tucks it in his back pocket.
He looks around the room as if coming out of a daze, begins to narrow his gaze on our paperwork.
Gallows leaves, returns with a black trash bag, and begins to retrieve our collection of memories.
Our scrapbooks. Our pictures. Our videotapes. Hell, even our old apartment leases, all carefully catalogued and labelled according to its home timeline. He throws them all in the bag.
Just as he's hefting the giant bag over his shoulder like a demented Santa Claus, he is discovered.
The guard to Sanctuary had poked his head into the attic to find the source of the noise.
Gallows proceeds to drop his bag, knock the poor man out, and drag his body out the trapdoor.
-video has clearly been edited to remove scenes of torture and mindfuckery-
The video resumes an undisclosed amount of time later, once again focus on Gallows and Thomas.
Thomas is beaten, bloody, and looks shaken. His hands are bound behind his back.
Gallows is smirking, a crimson splash of blood adorning his right cheekbone.
To me, he looked just as beautiful as always. But this one.. this one was not mine.
Gallows dragged the poor man through Sanctuary, kicking shit over as he leaves the house.
Thomas leads Gallows to the copse of trees few know about: the site of my sacrifices.
The Bleeding Tree has clearly left its mark on the clearing.
Trees burnt and black and twisting towards the sky, littering the area.
White rose bushes, recently planted at the base of each. Flecked with blood of mysterious origin.
Trees burnt and black and twisting towards the sky, littering the area.
White rose bushes, recently planted at the base of each. Flecked with blood of mysterious origin.
In the middle of the clearing, a spot of air shines distinctly from the rest. Shimmering.
Gallows grins, eyes the closest camera with a tongue waggling smile and scythe twirling.
He is clearly excited to step through this shimmering space in time.
He pushes Thomas through the portal first, and pauses. Waves to Graves to follow.
Graves dutifully carrying his weapons and the black garbage bag holding so many of our memories.
The duo smile once more, glance around, and step through the Rabbit Hole.
Jack, I figured I should warn you of the events that transpired yesterday. I have a feeling.. you shall be having a visitor quite soon. Several, if what I know of the timelines is correct.
Jack, I figured I should warn you of the events that transpired yesterday. I have a feeling.. you shall be having a visitor quite soon. Several, if what I know of the timelines is correct.
They always come for you. To kill or fuck or love. But they can never stay away.
Me? Well.. all my lovers are dead. I think. I don't honestly know anymore.
But I am lonely. Dreadfully so.
I knew what I was signing up for when I did this, but..
Me? Well.. all my lovers are dead. I think. I don't honestly know anymore.
But I am lonely. Dreadfully so.
I knew what I was signing up for when I did this, but..
Would it be so terrible for me to spend my last two weeks alive in the company of someone I love?
Would it be so terrible for me to be held once more, and told I was loved?
The Red Queen doesn't get these luxuries.
The Red Queen doesn't get these luxuries.
Instead, I continue on. Alone and mad in my crumbling tower of stone.
Sanctuary is still operational, just had a bit of a rough and tumble. The blood is mostly gone now.
Gallows managed to clean up the place pretty damn well. Weird for a serial killer, but whatever.
Sanctuary is still operational, just had a bit of a rough and tumble. The blood is mostly gone now.
Gallows managed to clean up the place pretty damn well. Weird for a serial killer, but whatever.
Heads up, sweetheart. People will be coming for your head soon. Mine as well.
You must remember the plan.
You must follow it.
Don't hesitate when you kill me.
Please.
I want to die.
You will be doing me a favor.
Please.
I want to die.
You will be doing me a favor.
For now, well, I ramble through Sanctuary like a haunted house. Ghost is here with me now, angry that he has to miss the bloodbath, angry with me for sacrificing me the way I am. Angry he cannot hold me.
My dark Cheshire Cat. My love. My Ghost. My Johnathan.
Oh, how I failed you, baby. I made you what you became, and I regret it all.
Oh, how I failed you, baby. I made you what you became, and I regret it all.
I am openly looking for visitors. Maybe there ARE people from my timeline left that still care.
Or people from others, that for some reason or another, don't want to be around Jack.
I don't know. I know that Sanctuary was the point of all this. The reason for all the blood.
If we let Sanctuary fall, and let it stay that way, all of this work will have been in vain.
Maybe one day, hopefully soon, this place will be restored to its full glory.
Or people from others, that for some reason or another, don't want to be around Jack.
I don't know. I know that Sanctuary was the point of all this. The reason for all the blood.
If we let Sanctuary fall, and let it stay that way, all of this work will have been in vain.
Maybe one day, hopefully soon, this place will be restored to its full glory.
Be wary, all those that tread here.
It's time for the Rabbits to come home. For good.
It's time for the Rabbits to come home. For good.
We need defenders, medical assistance, and suppliers of knowledge.
We are on our last legs, dear visitors. Won't you come join our fight?
We are on our last legs, dear visitors. Won't you come join our fight?
Yours eternally,
-Red