I dare say!

Vampires seem to now have ability to make zombies! But they are apparently just really horrid, unfinished vampires.

I wanted to post this here on my old journal as a warning to anyone who might be headed to England in the next few months. The entirety of Her Majesty's gun toting and/or time traveling special forces are now devoted to the problem of the thousands of vampires leeching the country dry. They currently hold 98% of all small farm towns, gothic mansions, and large urban areas.

Not to worry, old friends! We (BTCFOS19thCCJPMFE forces) have been equipped with really large pistols and trenchcoats. It appears as if most of the agents armed with protective kevlar and more standard police gear were horribly killed, or infected with the zombie-like vampire strain. The only survivors of the first such team were a redheaded policeman who had arrived for his first day in the job, and a woman looking for her brother, who was a special forces operative. I think one of them got ahold of a rocket launcher somehow. Good show!

I digress.

Stay out of London! Also, I miss all of my old associates there in America, and would come to visit were it not for the Quarantine. Good day!
 

2002-9-12   Letters

All the students on campus are basically on lockdown right now like the rest of the city. Many classes have been canceled until the strain of vampires has stopped. Those (and the armed forces) are the only thing that seem to roam freely outside at this moment.

The campus has taken it as part of our duty to supply food those trapped in their homes in Scotland through the power of a psychic transporter the school aquired 60 years ago durring the war. The goal is to transport food from the grocery stores to closed refrigerators and freezers across Scotland as we sence their supply diminishing.

The vampires are especially dangerous in this city due to the underground passageways and rooms throughout Old Edinburgh. Leith (where the campus is located) is, for the most part, safe from that sort of threat, but I would not like to be stuck in the underground city with a vampire around every corner. My heart goes out to those fighting this battle.

Please God. Let it be short before people start dying of starvation if the supply runs out.
 

2002-9-13   Goli

In light of the Vampire Emergency, I have been made an acting Level I Executive of the Foundation. Unfortunately, this is mostly due to the tremendous casualty rates in the Level III's, who were dispatched to directly intervene during the first wave of attacks.

I spent the first few days of the Emergency in the control room. It was horrific. The Docklands swarming with what looked like wet human-sized rats, Bond Street vampires in haute coutre and dripping fangs, Throgmorton and Old Broad Street crawling with creatures with skin like old wrinkled pound notes.

England has the highest number of surviellance cameras per capita of any nation on Earth. The Skyrock Foundation has a direct feed from each of them.

The past two days I have spent in R&D. Everyone is working like mad on more powerful undead weaponry - nano-cross bullets, Full Spectrum Laser Floods, psychic spike dischargers, garlic launching ballista.

I, however, have been assigned to the Investigative Team, trying to determine the cause of the rampant infestation. Some on the team work with the satellite data examining the recent increase in cosmic radiation. The Divination Division runs a billion-card-tarot simulation on a daisy chained cluster of Linux machines, and reads tea leaves as they reboot.

To protect ourselves, the entire Skyrock Building has been placed in an asynchronus reality field. Apetures are opened to send out and receive field teams, but otherwise we exist just far enough out of the plane to remain beyond direct assault.

We are working in 12 hour shifts, but even in sleep we seek out the source of this madness. I must ritualisticly prepare for my dream time now.
 

2002-9-15   Lt. Ricardo Rembrandt

Accursed undead took one of my closest pals, Marco, last night. It was in the Tower of London. Fighting there has been fierce. Word has it ground has mostly been lost to the vampires, even though we have felled hundreds, and thousands more of the zombie vampires.

The Time Commission has grown weary, and has assembled a team to head back in time to stop the infestation of vampires somehow. I, of course, was passed over for such a choice assignment, and left to deal with the countless evil.

One bit of good news - I managed to get into the old BTCFOS19thCCJPMFE armory, where my "black book" was. The black book is essentially a room full of extremely powerful weapons that remind me of the many, many, many women I have loved...oh the love...

Anyways, I took everything, and the remaining top BTCFOS19thCCJPMFE agents were thrilled to get their gatling cannons, rocket launchers, ion pulverizers, and smoothbore bola propellors. We used a windex bottle to spray quicksilver over all of the ammunition, and this seems to keep the undead at decent range. For any class A vampires that get through, I always have precious Mindy, as well as any number of new devices R&D is setting forward with. My favorite is a portable guillotine launcher with attached catholic bible. The Vatican wouldn't touch our situation with a one-thousand mile pole, but they're always happy to force bibles on us.

I asked Franz what he thought of the launcher, and he said the concept of launching a complete, functioning, twelve-hundred pound guillotine was a bit rediculous...until he saw it in action!

I hear Big Ben is now under SAS control again. Whoop de do. Ten pounds says they lose it by sun up.
 

2002-10-2   Goli

Finally, the Emergency seems to be subsiding, mostly due to the efforts of the British Time Commission (an organization officially disbanded decades ago).

The cure, however, was a little rocky. I found myself living in a number of different time streams as the agents of the Time Commission made their moves.

For a time I was a manager at a candy company specializing in candy weapons - chocoloate bombs, hard candy grenades, licorice lugers. Then, aprubtly (or perhaps congruently?) I was the mother of alien-hybrid triplets living in a cold water flat in the East End. Other flashes of lives I had not led included a choreographer of a ballet for the blind, secretary at a Saudi firm pumping blood from an apparently sentient planet, and a fast food worker in some type of 'donate-your-own-flesh-shushi-to-go' franchise.

Finally, I found myself back at the institute. We were still off-plane in our a-reality field, but our temporal recording equipment registered the entire event. Upon docking with London-A 2002, we found a Vampireless country. Well, perhaps not completely Vampireless, but down to usual levels - no infestation.

And not surprisingly, the infestation seems to have never occurred. And the 'British Time Commission' once again seems to have been discreetly but officially disbanded by MI-6 in 1963. Not that that would matter, naturally.

In any case, the Vampire Emergency is now merely orphaned footage on the cutting room floor of the reality studio. What is done with that kind of chrono-record is unknown - if not completely destroyed, it remains terribly dangerous - ready to be sampled and reproduced by any powers with the proper resources. And yet, to destroy it utterly is to eradicate a piece of living time - filled with both the good and the bad. Billions of them.

I do not know what they do with such things.
 

2002-10-14   Letters

Unfortuanately we have been quarenteened for quite a long time in Edinburgh. The Edinburgh School students have been forced to travel interdimentionaly and visit other psychic rhelms as the Vampiracy has been rampant... But the U.K. wide state of emergency has been disabled and we are finally able to walk the streets under relative saftey (though still at our own risk).
Finally I can go to a normal class instead of feild tripping interdimentionally and I can call my parents... though I'm not to make any mention of what's been amis here in the land of the Scots.

 

2002-10-18   Lt. Ricardo Rembrandt

Capt. Monet brought me a strange vase today. I was recuperating from a vicious zombie vampire bite to my left arm. I received it whilest on the streets during a raid on our final outpost some weeks ago, as zombie vampires and their agile, effeminate masters tore our forces limb from limb. My BTC companions fought bravely, and soon our armored namebadges and pith helmets ran red with zombie vampire blood. One vampire did manage to get through our line, and he bit me, so I rammed a bayonet grenade into his skull and threw him up into the air, riddling him with quicksilver rounds from Mindy. As his body dissolved, the grenade went off, spraying vampire bits over the moon, leaving a wonderful, glittery hue over everything.

It was quite a surprise to find that we weren't violently killed while we enjoyed the vampire dust shower of beauty. It turns out that at that moment, the team we sent back in time detonated their failsafe bombs, destroying the entire universe in the timeline that the infestation had come from.

It is unfortunate that they were not able to stop the master vampire, but their sacrifice/collapsing fission device did stop the infestation.

Oh, I could tell the failsafe had gone off because everyone exploded for a half a second, then reformed.

So anyways, I was recovering in Space Fortress 27, playing a good game of Return Fire on the 3do video game system, and Monet walks up and hands this seven foot vase to me. I was shocked that I didn't drop it, as my initial revulsion at the thing made me want to. It turned out that it weighed only 10 grams. The sides were an off white colour, with elaborate documentation in Queen's English. Some of the words I caught were "Bloodsucker", "Do not drop", and "1143577898436.769358.C".

Monet ordered me to drop whatever I was doing on the silly telly, kick the aide out who was currently getting reamed by my helicopter, and go with him to the Other Vault to stash this vase.

I, of course, had been faking my injuries so I could receive sick pay for some time, so I stupidly hopped up and followed. I suppose I should have tried to hop up, fake collapsed, and screamed in absolute agony for twenty seconds or so. I made a note to go back in time later and break my past self's legs.

The Vault is a giant subterranean cavern located underneath Buckingham Palace that, behind guards and large metal constructs, houses all the items the BTCFOS19thCCJPMFE deems too dangrous to "replace" into time-space*. I think the princes have a stash of various knickknacks there as well. The Other Vault contains a bunch of pottery and wooden shipping boxes that to me seem absolutely worthless.

We walked to the magic elevator that led us down 400 meters to the entrance to the Vault. We then took a left, walked down a short, ugly rock passageway, and arrived at The Other Vault, which is marked "Antiques" to confuse intruders. There we walked into the unlocked wooden door and looked upon the gigantic room, stocked floor to ceiling with ugly, ugly vases sorted chronologically. We walked about a half a kilometer (Monet said I couldn't use the little golf cart at the entrance) to a shelf marked "Oddities". I placed the vase in a space between one marked "Mummy Attack" and another marked "Germany Wins". Of course! This place contained the collected universes we deem too dangrous to exist! Whoever invented a vase that could hold a timeline must be a super genius!

Of course, Monet, being the prissy swot he is, slapped me on the back after that exclamation and said, "Silly fool, all vases are capable of holding universes!"

What a pretentious jerk!

*Replacing usually involves going back to the 1100s, 1490s, or 1930s and placing the object in a trash can or babbling brook, so that it is found by people who are far too stupid to guess its power, such as the case of one wooden spoon we placed in 1934 Scotland, which in it housed a power source so uncanny that it could melt the Earth and most of the moon.