Strike Magazine

Expedition Journals #5

These are the expedition logs of Larson J. Pendelton Ross the III esquire, Archduke of Canterbury.
Transcribed into modern day English by Larson Ross, a decedent of the Archduke.

October 9, 1885:
The blizzard has yet to subside, but on the bright side, since we are near the cliffs, and snowing heavily, we can expect to have a field of dead albatross to awake to tomorrow. I love a good snack, and reminders of mortality.

October 10, 1885:
Just as predicted, the ground was littered with large birds. I allow no cook fires, though, since I don’t want to risk us scaring off the pandacorn. Raw bird meat is much harder to eat than suspected, and most of the animal is frozen. Fortunately, Jeremy Two knows how to use every part of the albatros, including the inc sack.

October 11, 1885:
Today I saw the shapes on the horizon again, there are still small snow flurries, so it was not clear what they were. It looks to be a small creature dragging something heavy behind it. Perhaps it’s a adolescent yeti carrying a satchel full of delightful ice objects to decorate its cave. They are so like us, which is why it’s fun to kill them.

October 12, 1885:
Jeremy Two nearly froze last night. It turns out that an Eskimo strumpet isn’t often the best equipped to deal with cold, given their attire. In the tent, this wouldn’t be as much of a problem, but I’ve taken to making her sleep outside. My status as Gentry back home may decrease if others learned that I had been sharing English body heat with those of non-Saxon heritage.

October 13, 1885:
This day was filled with both massive joy and slight annoyance. I shall begin with some context: I wished to gaze upon the semi-frozen waves crash against the cliffs like Napoleon's frogs against Wellington’s lines. An ultimately useless endeavor. So, I brought our party to the cliffside and continued on the journey. Suddenly, from out of the Wales-strength fog, a small form crashed into me from the side. Luckily, Jeremy Two was there to prevent me from falling to my moist demise. Unluckily, Death demanded a life that day, and so she was the one to fall. Anyone who claims that Death had a helping hand in my angry push motivated by the disgust of touching filthy heathen fur is both a liar and a fiend. Her flailing, blasphemous body may haunt my dreams yet. However, I shall be calmed by the fact that she will forever be imprisoned in the deepest pit of hell for being both a heathen and a woman, where she can never reach my divine spirit.


After the shock of watching Jeremy Two fall to her death, I looked upon the strange apparition that had caused the untimely, yet hilarious, stumble. Huzzah! It was none other than the scaly head of my lost companion, Jeremy! Not that eskimo harlot, but the original lizard boy! How he’s managed to live so long in this clime, I have no clue, but that is not my concern as of now.

October 14, 1885:
Jeremy is still as tired as a lady of the night after one of Prime Minister Gladstone’s special drinks has coursed through her veins. However, there is not a moment to be wasted in my search, so I have constructed a sling out of the remains of Jeremy Two’s jackets, she never quite used her layers well. I shall carry Jeremy for as long as I am needed to, he is indeed the answer to the age old question: Who is the real monster? Man, or beast? The answer is man-beast.

October 15, 1885:
Jeremy has finally recovered enough to tell me the tale of his survival. It turns out it was quite simple, all he had to do was kill the person who had helped him the most! English logic has finally broken through his savage skull. He had traveled with Stephanie for several days; she gave him almost all of the food that she hunted or had saved up, saying that she had to sacrifice to help the helpless. Such a fool, she is! When the rations had begun to run low, Jeremy used his cold-blooded lack of empathy to kill her and slice her stomach open to keep warm, commenting that he thought that she smelled better when she had not been in a state of both death and desecration. He proceeded to eat parts of her over the next several days, this also freed up more space for him to shelter. Eventually, he had turned toward a state of boredom and sought me out.