Yet Another Evil

I have bad handwriting. I choose to blame the ubiquity of word-processors instead of any particular laziness or the fact that I had to stab a zombie with my good pen and now whenever I use it, it will only write ‘brains.’

I do take notes on a pad of paper I keep by my computer, but those are generally things like ‘+2 sword at 345,-88, 148’ or ‘spam? Immune to fire?.’ Pretty much I write down things that seem important and then reread it days later and wonder if the government is pumping weird chemicals into my apartment again.

Now, this is the point of the blog where I’m assuming you, the reader, will heave a sigh and wonder why I’m telling you this particular bit of information.

It’s because I found another dagger. Under my bed.

It’s a well-made dagger. About a foot of blackened blade on a leather-wrapped handle. Batwing-esque hilt. A big, eye-ball looking gem in the middle of the hilt that seems like its watching you. Some sort of rune on the pommel that screams when you touch it. A pretty typical ‘evil’ dagger, probably made by some guy with ‘the Cursed’ or ‘the Hateful’ or ‘He Who Shops at Hot Topic’ at the end of his name.

The troubling part is that there’s a tag attached to it that reads, as best as I can make out. ‘Cors?d Dagr of S???s??xyr. DESTR?Y ASAP IN FORG OF D?-smudge-?C.’

I have no idea.

Obviously, it was important enough at the time to label it, but not quite important enough to, y’know, write legibly. So, now I have yet another cursed dagger of some importance that I need to destroy in some specific way or in some specific place and I have no idea where or how or why.

Yes, I have several. In my hall closet, which also contains a cursed sword made out of vampire bones, a bunch of wands I keep in an empty Quaker Oats tube, one gauntlet that keeps trying to strangle me when I open the door to get the vacuum, and this bulbous yet pointy thing that pulses and seems to promise untold power if I just let it stick itself to my face.

All of which, I should point out, have some sort of tag or similar that I can’t read, because my handwriting sucks and/or it’s got blood all over it.

So, if this dagger sounds familiar and you know what I should do with it, let me know. Otherwise, it’s going in the closet.

And on second thought, maybe I shouldn’t keep the vacuum in there.

Cheers,

-Jason