On the Road Again

Not by choice, I'm still not feeling right. In any sense. But the Timberwolves have decided I've overstayed my welcome. I didn't feel like the sleeping too long last night, so I was awake in bed when I heard a mass of footsteps heading down the hallway towards my room. Orderly and uniform marching over the carpeted floor. Don't ask me how the Timberwolves found my location (This damn blog!), but I barely managed to grab all my things before the door was kicked in, revealing Mr. Fedora, from the Vatican chamber.

I had gotten out to the balcony, exposing myself to the cold winter air of Rome when the gas masked cultists flooded in. I didn't have anywhere to run but to the sides, so I clambered over the steel railing around the balcony and onto a conveniently placed stone ledge. The wind whipped at my clothing as I edged along the building's side, desperately trying to escape the Timberwolves' guns. They had run out to the balcony to pursue me, luckily enough the design of the building allowed me escape from their bullets, which threw out dust as they collided with a jut in the wall. I slid along the building, my hands grabbing at it as much as they could on the relatively flat surface and keeping my bag in place, as the Timberwolves climbed over the balcony in pursuit.

I moved as fast as I could, several stories off the ground, remind me to get a lower room next time. Until I eventually found my way to a window a couple rooms over. It would do me no good as the Timberwolves inside would get to it before I managed to even get through the window. There was one other option, so I got down on the ledge and turn my body towards the wall, letting my feet drop down towards the street below. I dropped, grabbing onto a window for support as my feet struck the ledge below and pulled myself closer before I had a chance to fall backwards.

I shot the lock on the window and pushed it in, leaping into the room and onto the carpeted floor within. Racing passed a shocked couple I ran from the room and into the hallway before the Timberwolves above could get down. I sprinted down the hallway and into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time and jumping down to the next flat whenever I was close enough. I made it down to the lobby and knocked out a couple Timberwolf guards with the handle of my gun. My possession must afford me extra strength and speed and come to think of it, probably aim, 'cause let's face it, I'm only 14! Nearly 15 but hardly old enough to do pretty much any of the stuff I have so far.

I got out on the street, looking up to my hotel room. There standing on the balcony ominously was Mr. Fedora the Apostle. He lifted a grey-gloved hand and waved at me, I just turned away and ran for it. I ran for the rest of the night until I was convinced the Timberwolves didn't know where I was anymore and weren't liable to find out any time soon. With the Towerborn's tracking device removed by the Timberwolves I'm back to square one. And with the Timberwolves on alert to my presence and actively hunting me, I've been pushed back into square zero.

I've got myself a new place to stay, and I'm not giving any information on it. I'm not risking the Timberwolves finding me again. I'm going to need a new plan.

-Shady

Addendum: Do I feel bad for killing all those Timberwolves? In the way I did? I didn't think so, I didn't think I was even capable of feeling bad after the Initiation. But something else thinks I do, or at least, something else thinks I should.