Intro



''This is the journal of Mack Spades. I'm not much for introductions, so I'll just leave it at that. ''

19th of January, 2011

Entered North Georgia. Heard some weird shit went down here, people stopped calling. Like I don't have anything better to do then running after strays who are too busy to answer their damned phone. Worst is expected so obviously, they sent their best guy. As he wasn't available, they sent me instead. Note to self: Public transportation is not the way to go. Ask for a car at the company's expenses next time.

28th of February, 2011

Found Malachite. Was still lying in his bed, mouth wide open as though he was screaming. Dead as a doornail, must've been here for a while. No wounds, no marks, still as much blood in his system as you'd expect. Landlord won't be happy to hear that the overdue rent will remain overdue. Bastard tried to pass the bill onto me. Told him to fuck off.

5th of April, 2011

Found Blake's squad... Sort of. Got to the storehouse they were renting, everything was cleared out. Asked around, appearently they were found all dead sitting around a table. Cops said it was bunch of adicts ODing, but I knew Blake, he doesn't touch the stuff. Smells like the cops were being lazy and figured the weapons in there meant they were adicts. Fucking pathetic. No wonder it's always us that have to clean up the mess.

16th of July, 2011

Okay, this isn't normal. I found Boone today. Straight up guy, worked solo. Didn't know him myself, but heard the guy was a bloody legend around these parts, taking out entire covens of the leeches on his own. Was a terrorist according to the FBI but what the fuck do they know. Boone was dead, been lying in his hideout under a bridge for what must have been forever. Smelled like shit... If it didn't already do so. Again, no marks, no sign of struggle or any sort of loss of bodily fluids. Can't be the vamps, can't be the lupines. What the fuck killed everyone? Is there even anyone left alive?

30th of November, 2011

Tried to find someone to interrogate. Some lead. Anything. Have been hunting for weeks now, trying to find someone who knew what was going on. I swear, there's nothing in this entire place. No vamp havens, no werewolf territory, none of them freaking weirdoes with the machines. Nothing! Gonna keep on trying. This ain't normal. Never seen anything like it.

1st of February, 2012

I'm leaving North Georgia, for good. Found a old den today, werewolf markings all over the place, recognize that tribal shit anywhere. I'm telling you right now, that was a werewolf territory, and everybody fucking knows that the wolves would rather die then give up a territory. Even found some of that weird voodoo crap they use. Picked up some sort of femur on an altar, I swear the thing talked to me when I did. Sounded pissed. Like I said, everybody knows the wolves never back down on their home turf, yet here I found a territory, completely intact with all their shit left behind.

Whoever is reading this, I'm telling you right now, stay the fuck out of North Georgia. I don't know what happened here, but it wasn't the vamps, it wasn't the weres, and it sure as hell wasn't us. Either this place is cursed or God himself decided to go on a killing spree on everything that wasn't normal. I'm leaving this place, fuck whatever the boys up top say. Whatever it is, it ain't worth trying to figure it out if going to sleep one night means you never wake up.