BAD-010
Barista: Max King
Date: Jan-8-2020
Receipt: BAD-010
Subject: Omens
Been moving alongside Travis, scanning for anything solid—something to prove we weren’t just chasing a ghost story.
Tracks and claw marks are one thing, but I wanted something physical. A trace of fur, a trail of blood, a scent on the wind that didn’t belong.
The trail pulled us west, toward Mellifont Abbey. Found a few hairs snagged on a low-hanging branch—coarse, dark, too thick for any normal dog. Could be animal. Could be something else.
But when I held it to the light, the color shifted—black to pale, from solid to near-transparent. Ghost-like.
Further ahead, deep scratches raked across a rock face—long, deliberate. Not from climbing, not from anything natural. Claw marks, spaced wide, like something big steadied itself before moving on.
But something about them feels intentional. From a distance, they look like the mark on Julia’s arm. A circle. A lemniscate.
Not just a mark. A message. A path left open.
Joy kept glancing behind us, like she expected to see something there. Victoria whispered to herself, fingers twitching—like she was touching something the rest of us couldn’t see. Mercutio buried himself in research. And Eoin was quiet.
Too quiet.
By the time we reached Mellifont, the air had shifted. Heavy. Stagnant. Like the whole place was waiting. The ruins stretched ahead, arches and broken stone, the last ribs of a body long dead.
We’re here.
But something else is, too. Watching. Waiting. And dead silent.