I don't know why I am here. The man who sent me here said you people can help me, but i am not even sure what is wrong with me. All I know is that she won't leave me alone...

I guess i should start at the beginning, to put this all in perspective.

My name is Darren and less than a year ago, some thing murdered my sister. The authorities labeled it an animal attack, and i believed them at first. I mean, what else could it be. A few weeks after her death though, a man came to me and told me that she had been killed by no animal. He said she had been killed by a werewolf.

I called him mad and threw him out of my apartment. I thought that was the end of it, until something tried to kill me as well. It happened one night after class, and while I never got a good look at it, I knew it was no animal. No animal has that much intelligence in its eyes.

Benito, the man who had approached me before, saved my life that night. He later told me that he belonged to a secret group that hunted the supernatural, and that he wanted to recruit me for the cell that he led. Needless to say, now that I knew the truth, I wanted some payback. I wanted revenge.

For six month I traveled and fought side by side with Benito and eight others. Up until one night a little more than a week ago.

We had just walked back into our safehouse when we saw him. I think we were all more bemused than anything else. There he was, a guy with an eye patch over one eye with what looked to be a bag of golf clubs sitting next to him, and he was eating a sandwich. Once Benito saw him though, I knew something was wrong. The look of sheer terror on Benito's face startled me, as I had never seen him even remotely scared before. He immediately shrieked out to kill this intruder. When i looked back at the mystery men, I was shocked to see that the bag of clubs had turned into a sword.

We tried to kill him, but in the end it was my team that died. Those of us who had no fighting skills tried to escape, but some kind of man made of purple flame barred our exit. We were trapped. Once all the fighters had been killed, we surrendered. He tied me and two others into chairs before he dragged Benito into another room. I don't know what transpired in there, but the scream that came out of there will most probably haunt my nightmares forever more. A few minutes later the man walked back into the room we were in and looked at us. He said that he was so very sorry.

I am not sure what it was. Maybe the tone of his voice of the look in his eye, but we knew then that we were about to die. The others started begging for their lives, but I was silent. I was simply too stunned by the events of the last few minutes to speak. He was quick, a knife thrust into the base of the skull silenced my two remaining companions. I was awaiting my turn when he knelt in front of me, smiled, and said,"You probably don't realise it yet kid, but this is the luckiest nighy of your life."

I am not sure what happened next, but i awoke in my car several hours later with a splitting headache and a large knot on the side of my head. There was a note taped to my steering wheel. It said that Benito had lied to us and was using us. That he had infected us with some sort of taint. I was lucky, it said. The taint inside me had yet to reach a point of no return. I could be helped. It had this website written down. They can help you, the note said.

I honestly don't know what to think. I am so tired, and I have been having horrible nightmares about my sister. All I know is that I have no one left to turn to. I need some answers.

Condolences on your losses.

I would suggest to start with stating where you can meet and then someone can arrange to meet and take it from there.

But how can I trust you? In the note, the man wrote that he worked with you people. How can I trust people who work with a murderer?

For the same reasons we can trust you. What other choice is there? You came here. Without a meeting nothing can be done in any case. Perhaps you should at least explore the possibility that Benito was not one lying to you.

Of course. I was the one who approached you all, so the onus of responsibility does lie with me. It also helps that I finally got a good night's sleep for the first time in weeks. My thinking is alot clearer now.

My attacker was a white male, late 20's maybe early 30's, about six feet tall. His left eye had an eye patch over it. His right eye was blue-green in color. He had short brown hair and a beard.He wore a trench coat, cargo pants and a t-shirt. I don't know much about swords, but his looked like a broadsword. The blade was about five feet long. His eye patch had strange writing on it. I didn't recognize it, but then I don't pretend to be any kind of linguist. He was a skilled fighter, as he managed to kill over half my team in under 3 minutes, and some of them had LEO and military training. The rest of my observations on him are more what I felt, and should be accepted with a grain of salt. I don't think he was human. He took several rounds to the chest area, but of course body armor could explain that. He was very fast, moving faster than any human I had ever seen. When he killed my two surviving companions, he did seem genuinely regretful about it. Also, I looked up the way he killed them and it would have been very quick and painless. He was merciful, but of course thats just a personal observation.

Benito was a total mystery to me. He was italian, and had a military background, but that was all I knew about him definitively. He was our contact with this mysterious "Order" we worked for. They equipped us, fed us and paid us a generous wage. Hindsight being what it is, maybe I should have asked more questions. I never took part in any ritual, mystic or otherwise. Nor did I know of any going on behind my back. We did do some activities I found questionable, but never morally reprehensible. Break-ins, a few thefts.

Will post some more later.

They tried to kill me!!

Someone was knocking on my door tonight. When I went to see who it was, they told me they were with the Order, like Benito. They said they were here to bring me to another nearby cell. I don't know why I opened the door. I had no reason to trust them. Maybe I wanted to trust them. I just don't know.

As i was unlocking the door, I heard the distinct sound of a gun slide being racked. I immediately slammed the bolt back into place and ran for my kitchen. I had had an escape plan ready for days, just in case something happened. I never thought I would need it. I grabbed a bag of essentials and escaped down the fire escape (pardon the pun). As I hit the bottom, I heard shouting from up above. They had obviously made it through my door. One of them leaned out the kitchen window and took some potshots at me. Thanfully the angle was wrong.

I'm hiding out in a motel now, but I seriously need some help.

Neither did they have the exits covered. The agents may have botched the operation and shown themselves to lack operational experience but it could be a stroke of luck as much as an indication of the overall capability.

It is good to hear that you escaped but time is not on your side. There are people who are capable of finding people who are hiding without leaving their living room.

I had changed hotels several times, and destroyed my credit cards as Mr.Caliburn recommended. Of course, that meant I had to rely on cash, which was running out, until today's events.

I had just checked into a new, and very cheap, motel on the edge of the city. I was in the room for less than 10 minutes when I heard a knock on the door. Considering what happened the last time I answered a knock at the door, I understandably panicked. I ducked in next to the bed and attempted to hide. Futile, I know, but I wasn't thinking very rationaly at that point. I waited for what felt like forever, but was really only about 6 minutes. I was expecting more knocks, or someone kicking open the door. Nothing happened. Finally I gathered what little courage I have, and went to the door. Peeking out, I saw that there was no one there. There was however a package with my name on it. Opening it, the first thing I found was two thick stacks of money and several very good fake ids. Next up were several folders containing pictures, bank statements, phone records and personal information on everyone I had worked with during my time with the Order. At the bottom of the box was a disposable cell phone, with a sticky note attached to it. The had "call me" written on it, with a number right below it.

I'll be frank and say that it took me quite awhile to muster the courage to call. The phone was picked up bu the first ring.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to call me."

It was the same voice. This was the man who had killed my teammates.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" I asked.

"My name is Konrad, and if you don't pay very close attention to what I am about to tell you, you will be dead by this time tomorrow."

So this Konrad is a member of the Society? Can I trust him, and what is he?

I was silent for a few moments, the I asked "What do you mean?"

His reply was to start laughing. The laughter continued for awhile before he started talking again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself. I have always wanted to use that line."

Needless to say I was unamused.

I told him, "My life is a wreck right now, partially thanks to you, and you want to make bad jokes. Who are you?"

"I was your guardian angel, for a moment, but now it is time for you to step up and save yourself."

"What the hell are you talking about? What is going on?" I asked, totally and completely confused.

"You've been lied to Darren. Used. Your very soul is in jeapordy and you hold in your hands the means to save it. Did you see the files?"

"Yes, what do they have to do with this?"

"Within those files is the key to finding out what caused all this. If you are as smart as your records claim you are, you should be able to find the answer."

I was confused, he was not making any sense. "What am I looking for?"

"Look for the picture in the folder. That is what you are looking for. Got to go, give my love to the Society."

"Wait, why just this. I need more than this."

He was silent for a moment, then he said, "I wish I could do more for you, I really do. Unfortunately, I sort of stumbled on to your situation while in the midst of my own hunt. I can't abandon it. I am really sorry, I truly am. Let the Society help you, they're good people, if a bit insufferably righteous sometimes. So goodbye, good.luck, oh and look at the picture in the folder. It could be important."

And with that he hung up, leaving me frustrated, but not entirely clueless. I re-opened the folder and found the picture he must have been referring too. It was a hand drawn picture of some kind of box. I couldn't guess the size of it, without something to compare it to. It also seemed to have some form of witing on it. Written next to it, in big and bold letters, were the words "Find Me".

Does anyone know how I can find out exactly what this box is?

I don't pretend to be a linguist, so I sent a picture of the writing to a good a friend who is majoring in Anthropology. He says the language looks like some form of Sanskrit. He is not very familiar with the language himself, but he is going to do some research for me. Which frees me up to continue investigating the rest of the information I recieved.

I would not say he gave me only a "little" information. Most of what he gave me just needs to be analyzed. I would of course welcome any help, and will gladly send ypu copies of what I have.

I have already noticed one pattern emerging, one that seems to have something to do with the recruitment of.my team. Loss. We all, within the past few years, have lost someone close to us. And not just any kind of loss. With the names and dates provided in the info I recieved, I was able to do some googling and the data I came up with was startling. There were several cases of wild animal attack, like my sister and another few were labeled as temporary insanity. Also there was at least one case of what seemed to be spontaneous combustion and a number of deaths that were called natural causes, but if you read between the lines you could see they really had no freaking clue what happened.

I am not sure what all this means. It seems we all suffered loss at the hands of the supernatural.

Can't say I fault him there. Finding something out on one's own can give you a better understanding of the solution, than if someone just hands it to you. Or so I have always believed.

Anyway, I have heard back from my friend who was looking into the writing on the box. He was only able to translate two words. "Grief" and "Enlightenment". The first word makes sense when you take into account the team I was on, we were all suffering from grief. As for "enlightenment"...I really have no clue. Hopefully Cybermancer might have found something.

Also, looking into Benito's phone records, I noticed alot of calls to D.C. I just wish I could find out to whom those calls were placed.

I appreciate the info, and you are more than welcome to post your findings here. Maybe someone else can see what we can not.

Ah, so that's where the Casque has got to.

A word to the wise, stay away from the Order and the Casque. Even should you find and stop them, I doubt the Society has the courage to do what needs to be done.

Continue on this path and you shall learn the true horror of "Enlightenment".