Not Dead, Just Hiding

Apparently people are reading this now. I have comments. That's new. I'm glad you're reading this, I'm glad someone's reading Sam's story. Even if I have been derailing things with my own life. I'd be hesitant, but now I'm certain that all of this is connected. And I know Sam wouldn't want me to cut myself off when I so badly need an outlet of some kind.

As much as I'd like to deny that, I do. I'm scared. There's something going on here I'm not quite getting. What could Sam have possibly done to bring this much attention on himself? That would bring down this level of shit on me, just for knowing him? This isn't some simple gang shit. No gang would chase me across territory like this guy has. And no gang I've heard of would act the way these guys act.

This is something huge. A mafia family maybe? Or government types? I don't know, now I just sound crazy. All I really have are hunches and intuition and things that just don't make sense. All I really know is that Sam definitely wasn't just a fan of the X-Men.

A few days ago my stalker decided that just following me around wasn't enough anymore. I was trying to lose him for the third time that day when he charged me out of nowhere. I had no choice but to duck into the nearest alley to try to get away. It was blocked off, and... decorated. With what must have been a hundred of those symbols drawn all over in what looked like blood.

Normally my reflexes are what save me in dangerous situations, but I admit to being a bit too stunned to react properly. I lunged for the closest thing to a weapon I could find-a broom handle sticking out of a garbage can. What I didn't do was appropriately keep an eye on my surroundings. I watched my stalker pull out his knife and clean it threateningly.

And then a small angry woman with what looked like broken bits of a porcelain mask stuck to her face dropped from a fire escape and kicked my head. I struck out with the broom handle, trying to keep her at bay, but she seemed to only be amused by my efforts.

"Oh look, it has some training" She cooed too cheerfully at me.

I glared back at her. "I'm not an 'it'. Who are you and what do you want from me?"

I didn't get an answer. Instead she charged me, I struck her, and my stalker managed to grab me from behind. My attempts to kick back and get free were stopped by the masked woman's knife pressing into my chest. "What do you want?" I repeated, trying very hard not to show any of the fear I felt.

She smiled, and it was unsettling in a way she didn't intend. It was obviously supposed to be intimidating, but what scared me far worse was the madness behind it. Whatever else she was doing, it was clear to me in that moment that she was insane and being used by someone who used that to their advantage. Not a good sign at all, really. If a person is willing to use the mentally ill to get to you, they probably don't care what happens to you. Or they're terrifying enough to scare them into submission. Either way, not a good sign.

After a moment that felt like a lifetime, she spoke. "We're just... marking what belongs to our boss. Which is a shame to do to something so pretty." My stalker took that opportunity to carve a symbol into my shoulder. At that moment I didn't know what it was, just that it hurt like hell.

I bit back a curse. "Who is your boss and what does he want with me?"

She looked pleased with me, which made me question whether asking questions was a good idea. "Good question. You'll just have to find out."

At this point she did something that made my stomach roll. She sliced herself and pressed the cut to the wound in my shoulder. I'm not sure what the point of that was. Was she trying to infect me with something? I wish I could find out, but I can't exactly afford to get tested. "What are you doing?" I shouted, squirming away instinctively.

"Something personal."

She punched me in the gut at the same time my stalker let me go, which dropped me to my knees. "What is going ON?"

"You'll just have to find out, cutie" She giggled, like she was flirting with me, and started walking away, pulling my stalker with her. "Come on you masky wannabe. I think we're done here."

At this point I was confused, frightened, but most of all frustrated with the secrets and the uncertainty and the lack of information. "You're just going to LEAVE?" I asked, almost irritated

"Aww, what's wrong? Wanted more answers? Maybe a better beating? Maybe some sneakers?" The woman replied, looking thoroughly amused. My stalker looked less so, and he punched her. That devolved into a one sided argument-something about a reference I didn't understand and still don't.

"Answers, yes. Or even more questions so I know what to look for." The woman was crazy, I was hoping she might let something slip.

She didn't. "If you aren't finding questions, then maybe you aren't looking for them?" My stalker punched her again. "Dammit, I don't need your crap right now, I'm busy!" She turned back to me and pulled two throwing axes. "Fine, you want a fucking question? How about how well can I throw?"

I dove for cover and they left, the woman complaining to my stalker the whole way.

I discovered  later that what they carved into my shoulder was the same symbol Sam used to spray paint everywhere. The circle with the X through it that he claimed was the Xmen symbol. It's clearly not. Which makes me wonder why he used it. If it's the symbol of the man he was running from, shouldn't he have been trying to avoid it?

Was he trying to throw people off his trail by putting the mark places so that people would think that it was that guy's territory and that Sam couldn't have been there?  I don't understand, and he's not around to ask. I have no answers, no real clues, nothing to go on but one of the vaguest symbols possible.

I don't know what to do. I just know it's not safe to stay here anymore.