What is this, housework? ~Shift

So, yeah, it's Shift.  I ditched the stupid account - Rhodes just lets me use his anyway, and the less clunky switching between email addresses I have to do, the better.

Rhodes is gone.  Said he'd be gone for a while.  Told me that I'm in charge while he's not here!  Wow, thanks.  I'm in charge of a mute wrestler who just mopes in the corner all day, and a psychotic bitch who's obsessed with Heroboy and who tries to knife anyone who goes in her room.  Seriously.  Even Rhodes can't keep Jade under control 100% of the time.  It makes things...really difficult when he's not home.

Not that he cares.  Sure, dump me with the two people who only move at your command and who could both kill me without any problems.  Yeah, Obstruction won't, but that's probably just cause he hasn't had any thoughts of his own the whole time this "team" business started.

I never thought I'd say this, but I MISS Valkyrie.  She was just as crazy as everyone else here, but she kept order through her fear.  Jade was a lot more scared of her than she is of Rhodes, and maybe even a bit admiring.  With her in charge while the boss is away I never even got so much as stabbed.  These days, though, making me leader while he's gone is just another insult.

Man, why am I even bitching to you guys about this?  Whatever.  Rhodes wants me to update the blog while he's gone.  "With fucking what?"  I asked.  Then he went on and on about dramatic tension and how we'd "already spent way too much time keeping everyone in the dark!" with that faux cheerful smile on his face the whole time.  Or is it faux?  I can never tell with that guy.

Fuck this job.  But...It's better than being dead, that's for sure.  I have no clue why you idiots keep resisting.  It's just going to be more pain for you in the long run.

So I return from, frankly, a well earned vacation, and what do I find waiting for me?  A lovely little message on my blog.  Someone seems quite interested in including me in their little party, which I'm quite flattered by.

They even posed the same pawn/player question they gave June, but sufficed to say I wasn't fooled by a simple blank email address.  It's not so easy to hide from me, and I was able to find the person who's been typing this stuff out.  Sadly, not the greatest conversationalist I've ever met, rather like one of those dreadfully dull Hallowed folks.  But as I've got him with me right now, I figured I would send the lovely people organizing this event a little message.

Excuse me?  EXCUSE ME?  You are giving me a role?  You putrid sacks of FILTH!  The likes of YOU think that you determine MY destiny?  I don't think you understand how this works, here!  I'm not one of these blind idiots running around chasing whatever carrots you dangle in front of them.  I'm the man holding the cards, and I've got your number.

This little pawn of yours gave me a bit of entertainment, but there's only so many times you can smash a face against a desk before it gets dull.  So I figured I would take the time to address you before shutting down your connection to this world.

You think you're enigmatic?  It never changes with you.  You probably still think humans squat in wooden hovels and stone castles.  News flash: This whole cryptic disclosure bullshit is NOT working.  Not a single one of your "players" was impressed.  Even the ones following your bait aren't intimidated so much as annoyed at how unoriginal you are.

You think I don't know EXACTLY who you are, NEMESIS COUNTER!?  So you FINALLY decided to play your hand.  What's the matter, too SCARED of the man with the pale face?  Even now, you probably think everything's going according to your little schemes.  I'll bet you think that no matter what the outcome, nothing will change.

Well, this is a wake up call.  The gods themselves will not stop me.  If you ever, EVER, presume to command me again, the veils of time and space themselves will not shield you.  I will tear down your bastions, one by one, with fire, blood, rot, and decay, until every aspect of you lies before me, all illusions stripped.  And on that day, I will rip the beating hearts from your chests, one.  By.  One.

...Pffff...Hahahahahahahaha!  You know what?  Why not.  WHY THE HELL NOT!  You want me to play your little game so bad?  Wellll, I do feel a little bad, seeing as I make your doll here rack up quite the medical bill.  And it just so happens you've recruited a player or two that I'm most interested in.  So yeah!  Count me in!

Just don't expect me to play by your rules.

identified

you are the crucible

My door is open.

It's no secret that these past few months have been...quiet.  This time last year we had houses burning down, killer trees, exploding weddings, oh my!

It seems as though the Powers That Be have granted us this time of respite.  But as I stir from my rest and prepare to get back into the swing of plotting and scheming, I notice that the silence does not stop at those tricksy twisty runners.  Reddie darling hasn't deemed to make an appearance in some time.  Other authority figures such as Valtiel or Writer have also seen fit to vanish from the blog world.

Could it be that we've finally decided to stop chronicling this invisible war on these inane public online journals?  Not bloody likely.

So, here is my proposal to all you working class masked men and women, just trying to get through the day without the Tall Man deciding your entrails would look good nailed to the wall: Come to me.  If you are uncertain about what you should be doing, or how to proceed with a task that your superior has been frustratingly quiet about, then I shall endeavor to set you on the path to success.

We walkers in the night must stick together, after all, mustn't we?  Don't hesitate to approach me with any concerns you may have.

And think nothing of it.  Call it professional courtesy.

A friendly report from the Intelligence division

This post goes out to ALL the proxies in the field.  As Ridley might say, "keep it real, mah homies!"  Because apparently he likes typing words that aren't real.

The date: August 2nd, 2012.

The time: approximately 6:30 PM.

The location: Detriot, Michigan.

Summary: Intelligence operative "Zephyr" is due to meet five enforcers to provide information on a target, [REDACTED, due to believed irrelevance].  Enforcers are half hour late, Zephyr risks visiting their safehouse. (deemed necessary by Handler Rhodes)  Upon arrival, Zephyr discovers safehouse empty, door shows sign of forced entry.  Note on table indicates field outside of city as possible location.  Zephyr proceeds to location. (Note: Unwise, operative should have immediately called for backup, was "reprimanded" lightly for this mistake)  Bodies of enforcers discovered, tied to stakes.  Zephyr contacts superior and requests cleanup team.  Evidence removed without incident.

Autopsy: Not that we exactly had to cut em open to see what snuffed em out.  Poor fucks were burnt alive.   Somehow, somebody started a fire in an open field without attracting anyone all for the sake of executing a bunch of fuckin' blanks.  The team figured the fire wasn't too old, so we just missed the pyro.  Good thing too, cause daaayum that woulda freaked out the normies.  Fuckin' pussywipes would prolly blame it on religious terrorists or something stupid as shit like that.

Conclusion: This may be the act of a deranged runner, but it is a little too elaborate for that.  Somehow, the culprit(s) kidnapped all five of the enforcers, a feat that would be almost impossible for a single runner.  M.O. inconsistent with the "Siren."  Only time will tell if this is an isolated incident, or a sign of things to come.

Handler Rhodes, Intelligence Division

Not my usual kind of dance.

So Konaa sorta left off on a cliffhanger, eh?  Leaving you all to wonder what had happened to the dashing knife nut in the suitcoat and hat.  What happened to the serial killer with the penchant for humming Irish ditties?

Well, I didn't stop to shoot some pool with 'im, lemme tell you.   He'd already gotten his mitts on those two blanks I had on loan from Reddie dearest, (he's so gonna bitch about it later, ugghhh) and he was looking to make it three with Shift.

Thing is, Shift is occasionally useful to me.  Good with computers, and that phasing move is a little unusual!  So as much as it seems out of character, I stepped forward into the fog to help the little bitch.

I heard im screaming, more sizzling, like this murderer had lit firecrackers in his pants or something.  Threw a knife, there was a clank, and Shift dropped to the ground, crawling out of the fog, his arm sporting one sick burn.

Here, I sort of lost my temper.

"LISTEN UP, SHITHEAD!  The only person who gets to torture and abuse that weedy pathetic keymonkey is YOURS TRULY!"

There was a muffled "Yeah, thanks a bunch, Boss." from the ground.

I strode forward, twirling two more knives in my hands, signaling my team to fall back.  Now, this fog certainly was unnatural - fog doesn't build up this quickly, and it certainly doesn't obscure this much with only a moderate downpour.  It was doing its job well, though - outlines were the only visible thing.

Maybe for someone as shortsighted as June, anyway.  One in my line of work has a penchant for seeing through fogs, though.  Just usually more metaphorically.

The singing killer, the "Siren," is around six feet tall, Caucasian, male, dressed in dark blue clothing, torn jeans, a frighteningly ragged mass purporting to be a coat, and a hood.  His hair is dark and wild.  More notably, he wears a strange gauntlet on his left hand, almost like a metal shell that encases the hand and about two feet up his arm.  In that hand, he is holding an iron, heated despite the lack of a plug.

"Come now, step forward.  Let's get a good look at you.  ...Ah, but now it all makes sense.  If my dress code was like yours, I'd probably be a maniacal killer too.  ...Oh WAIT!"  I laughed, just a little joke to lighten the mood.

No answer.

"Did you hear me?  I said...you...dress...like...a...mentally...impaired...simian!"  I used hand signals to make sure we were communicating, although perhaps the middle finger is communicating the wrong message.  Oh well, what do I look like, a translator?

Still no response!  How infuriating.   It was time for a more hands on test.  Another knife flew his way, he raised the gauntlet and with another clank, it fell to the ground.  Lurching towards me slowly, he raised the iron.  And then with surprising speed, he suddenly lunged, trapping my arm against the wall and holding the iron towards my face.

NO manners here, no siree.  And nothing pisses me off more than a rude asshole with a heater.  I gave him my most winning smile and then cackled at his little toy.  "You wanna light ME up?"

And suddenly!  Gasp!  His hand is free!  Always keep a tight grip if you want to hold onto a snake, folks.  They're more slippery than they first appear~

I brought out a hook and chain, swung it upwards, cracked the asshole in the face.  But it didn't seem to do nothin!  He just kept coming forward, blood seeping down his cheeks.  Well it's a pain in the fucking ass, but I had to admit I had no clue what the hell this idiot's deal was.

So I gave the chain a spirited heft and threw it, wrapping it around his legs.  THAT made him stumble a little, and gave me just the opening - a flashbang grenade, already primed and ready.  Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, I pushed his head forward and smashed it into his face.  "Temperature today!  Rainy, with intermediate bursts of sunlight!"  Bang.

And god damn if he didn't make the weirdest fuckin noise I ever heard.  Some sort of groggly moan.  If that wasn't the oddest thing about it, he showed me he's pretty slippery himself - one second I had him, and the next he was gone.  Footsteps receding, and then silence, leaving only Shift's burnt arm as a parting gift.

Take it for a freebie, folks.  This fellow doesn't seem to care WHO he's got his hands on so long as they're squishy and burn nice.  Show him the light, sit him down, talk about your parents.

It's funny cause most of your parents are DEAD!  Hahaha, ah man, never gets old.  Later.

Dear me where DOES the time go.

I'm practically becoming your typical blogger at this rate, most of my posts seem to address the sparsity of updates.  I do apologize for having better things to do than log all my actions for the public to behold.

But!  I'm here now, and I have a friend!  He's a little drowsy right now, blood loss does that.  Let me try to wake him.

Oh my.  I don't think he liked that at all.  Christ, but this fucker has a set of lungs.  Hey, watch it!  Don't bleed on the fucking suit!  ...Whew, you dodged a bullet there, pal.  You awake?  Great!  Here, just like we practiced, you're gonna talk to our friends here!

I'm Robert Loans, FBI.  I was trying to spy on Rhodes, who, incidentally, is infinitely dashing in his style of wardrobe, when he heroically intercepted me.  He is currently threatening me with death unless I reveal agency secrets to you all.  He has cut me with his knives fourteen tiairgnkij  FIFTEEN TIMES NOW! :D

I am part of a division of the FBI that does not officially exist.  It monitors paranormal activity, mainly that of "Slender Man" and those associated with.  Rhodes has instructed me to reveal that we are tracking as many known individuals who have come into contact with the Slender Man in any way.  If you have a blog, it is quite possible you have an agent assigned to trace you.

 stopitstopitPLEASESTOP

Rhodes just removed some of the teeth frrrgehlp six teeth exactly from my mouth because I was a little bitch who strayed from the script.  I was supposed to tell you that in some cases, the agent assigned to the individual has termination orders if the individual takes any action that may cause public awareness of Slender Man to rise.  He wants me to tell you that you are all being watched and that we know everything, but refuse to help you.  And that you're just as likely to be killed by us as you are them


what did I DO - Come now, what sort of sentence begins with "And?"

Politics these days!  How about em, Robbie?  ...Robbie?  Dear me, he's not moving.  Odd place to take a nap, but, I suppose I'll allow it, since he did what I asked.

Why did I want him to tell you all about those charming government suits and their nefarious plans?   Couldn't it simply be because I care for you all?

Perhaps not.  The first reason is simple.  They've been hunting me as if I were just another adolescent in a hoodie.  I wanted to be sporting, and show them exactly who they are dealing with.  When professionals are involved, I do not play games. You have been warned- I will not tolerate another such insult.

Of course, there's a second reason for just about everything.  I wanted this charming young man to explain the government policy to all of you out there who think they can escape, or fight back.

It's like this, runners.  You're not just being watched by one man in a suit.  It's many.  Our elected officials have apparently decided that you are a liability.  Let's face it, they're not far off.  You imbecilic little insects haven't even the slightest inkling of the game you are pieces in.  It's quite amusing, actually, like watching blind lab rats in a labyrinth.  Only instead of cheese, it's horrible mental trauma.

Now that you have the slightest idea...Let's see some fear.  Don't be shy.  Show me the look of a mouse as the trap closes around it.

Acknowledging a fallen foe + my little road trip

This has been an important week for me...Finally, after everything he had endured and survived through, a single bullet was able to sever his stubborn connection to this mortal coil.

Ladies and gentlemen, June "Konaa" Reynolds is dead. 

I suppose you now expect gloating?  Maniacal laughter, perhaps.  As I sit back on my velvet throne and stroke the hair of a small precariously groomed household pet I let out a tirade of sadistic glee at the prospect of my cursed archnemesis's demise.  A rant about how now, no one can stop me, and that in the end, all his relentless idealism served him for naught!

You would suppose wrong.  He won our duel.

What I have always, truly wanted, is to show him how his faith in humanity is absolute nonsense.  Taking a life was a line he swore time and time again never to cross, and thus for my victory to be complete, cross it he would.  By shooting his own sister, even.

But no...June Reynolds was, I suppose, incorruptible.  Even when his own life was on the line, he refused to pull the trigger...Thus it fell to me to do so.  In the end, it was his victory, for he proved me wrong.  Perhaps there was one human being alive who could not be persuaded to take the easy route, who truly did live for his fellow man and nothing else.

...WAS being the chief word there, seeing as he's DEAD!  And his sister went down with him anyway.  Oh yes...We've lost precious Valkyrie.  My second in command's death is a nuisance, but, with her brother dead about half of her function would be gone anyway.  Don't even get me started on Jade's moaning about the death of her "Knight."  I had to carve her a new tattoo to shut her up!  Except even that didn't work cause she started screaming in pain!  ...Maybe I should've asked first...Nahhhhhh!

In short, blah blah blah, salute my fallen enemy, died pure, hope a coyote pisses on his corpse.  NEXT!

So as we all know, I was missing for quite the extended period of time while my team remained behind to handle things in my stead.  I was out of the country, simply enough.  And I tell you, the jungle is no place for a suit.  The humidity was killing me.  Well, I stabbed someone to make myself feel better, though, so really, it was killing THEM.

You don't get the country's name out of me, darlings.  All you should know is this- my reason for the trip was investigating into the very nature of our Slenderfriend.  So many conflicting stories!  Drawings on the wall in Egypt!  A malicious fey from medieval Germany!  A crappy photoshop!  He really is a modern Bigfoot, that Tall Man of ours.

To add one to the mix, it looks like he's made a few appearances in the Southeast Asia region.  As far as I can determine, minimal amounts of recent ones.  I'm talking ancient times here, people.  I found ruins in Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, and even Northeast India with objects practically radiating with His essence.  Wall carvings, journal entries...there was a lot of evidence.  It was just hidden from the casual seeker.

I don't do casual.

And within a temple in the jungle...I discovered something.  An artifact, you could say, left behind by what someone could call the predecessor to the modern proxy.  Only far more versed in harnessing the power of that Glorious Man.  My Territories, Writer's Loops, Fitzgerald's...heheh, pick and choose.  It's all very impressive, but the fact of the matter is that in ancient times there were a small number of people who held genuine power thanks to Him.  Really, quite fascinating, wouldn't you say?  And I have in my possession a little something one of them left behind.

All in all, my field trip yielded a tremendous gain.  I hope to show you all juuuust how wonderful my new toy is.

Return, and introductions

Dear me, look at the clock!  Well over a month has passed since my last post.  And of course, naturally there's NOTHING more important than keeping what is essentially a public diary up to date...Well, let's go over the events in order, shall we?

Firstly, though I am quite late here, Konaa paid me a little visit.  Sadly, I must say he is quite the poor houseguest.  That was quite the painful injury to recover from, but I have my ways, you see.

Only a few days later I ran into him and we had tea.   The Tall Master sought to end it early, however, and who am I to refuse?  

Next, I assisted the Tall One in capturing his little bird.

And as you likely know, his lady friend had to bail him out of the Hallowing. Though he proved quite resistant...

To catch up to recent events, Konaa has met my team.  I must say, they are an extraordinary group of youngsters, aren't they.  Allow me to formally introduce them!  Come on, don't be shy!  No no, use a different font each, be stylish about it!

Obstruction.

Eloquent fellow, isn't he?  I named him that because, well, that's what he is. Between you and me, naming him Creative or Sensitive would've been nicer but quite dishonest.

Boss, what?  I already introwha ARGH okay.  SHIFT.  I hack shit and I can phase through walls.  Long story.  It fuckin' hurts.  Am I done?  Good.

Jade doesn't seem to be responding to my calls...Aah, teenagers.  They're all alike, moody to a fault.  We'll just go with my second in command, the woman who can handle these loose cannons while i'm away.  Valkyrie, m'deaaar?

What idiocy.  A "blog" is not even a proper word.  I am Valkyrie.  And if you encounter me, fear not.  I have made it my mission to show all I can the beauty of death, and I will exclude no one from this enlightening process.

And that, my friends, is Team Rhodes.  Obstruction's the muscle, Jade's the enforcer, Shift's the technical side, and the mysterious "Valkyrie" takes the role of my lieutenant.  I, myself, merely serve as the humble operations planner, and salary manager.  What was that, Shift?  Grumbling about how I don't pay you?  NONSENSE.  You're all still alive and relatively unhurt, yes?

That should wrap things up.  "But wait!" You cry, from your place on the ground, clinging to my leg.  "Where have you been for the last few weeks!  And please kill me painlessly!"

Well I'm in a considerably good mood, so I'll grant both your wishes!  (electrocution is painless, correct?)  ...Well, on second thought...The story of my absence is simply too good to share in one post.  Allow me to simply say for now that I was abroad...and more shall be revealed next time. 

Fucking hell.

Who the fuck said you could just come in here and tear everything to pieces, you crazy asshole? The Boss is dead, Obstruction's arm is fucked up, and most importantly, I have a couple of bruises and our hideout is wrecked! What the fuck are we supposed to do now?

Don't even get me started on the other members of the team. Big ole Obbie wasn't much of a talker before his injury but now he's making the countryside seem downright full of chatter. Jade creeps the fuck out of me, and so do those other two girls. What is it with the boss and his love of disturbing women?

So clearly it's up to me to decide what we do. And what we're doing is finding that little shit what put us out of a job and splitting his face open.

fuckfuckfuckheshere

a bulldozer

HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET A FUCKING BULLDOZER

Introducing- Shift!

It's been so busy here lately, preparing for Mr. Reynolds' arrival and such. Dear me. At any rate, I'd like to introduce one of the little helpers I have around the house.

Oh, yes, I know, it doesn't seem like me to work with others, but the fact of the matter is minions are very useful. They take out the trash, wash the windows, kill anyone you don't want to bother with, they're simply quite the convenience. Without further ado, my right hand man, Shift!

Okay so the boss just handed me this keyboard and said I'd be updating the blog whenever he couldn't. I tried to object but then he gave me the "I would enjoy killing you" look so here I am. Great. Okay, the name is Shift. I'm a hacker by trade, and allow me to say fuck all of you. Nobody gives a shit about your melodrama, they'd rather you all just dropped off the face of the planet so your stupid fight doesn't have a chance of affecting them anymore. You're all a bunch of morons and assholes.

Great the boss is lecturing me about internet protocol. What the hell, boss, you send people to the crazy ward for fun. Ow, okay, he poked me with a knife for that one. Geez. Anyways, what I do is confidential. As is everything about me. I am not in the mood to talk to any of you jerks. Am I done yet?

Charming young man, isn't it? Like he said, he'll be updating the blog whenever I can't, so you can expect more from Team Rhodes with every waking moment! I expect a parade in my honor or fifty innocents will die.

Haha, just kidding.

You hope.

In other news!

It would appear that your beloved Schrödinger is dead.  Simply tragic.  Loss of life, particularly life so young, must always be mourned.  Especially when they likely died weeping and begging for mercy, for a swift death that would never come.  For rescue from the people they thought would save them but in actuality just failed somewhat pathetically to do anything at all.


Oh well!


Luke.  Oh, Luke, Luke, Luke.  We all knew you were a failure who never accomplished anything, but this is an all time low, even for you.  I mean, Elaine?  Of all people?  She already has a boyfriend, Luke.  And he's sort of a dimensional warping courier with a fucked up body.  Bit hard to compete with that.  Well, trash is trash, I guess.  Through and through.  Do us a favor and die in a corner somewhere where I don't have to clean it up.  That's about all you can accomplish at this point.

Last, but certainly not least,  I payed Nessa a little visit.  The poor dear and I had a nice long chat about the world, and the truth behind it.  I'm afraid...She did not react too well.  What happened to her?  Ha ha...that would be telling.  Much more exciting this way, wouldn't you say?

So much has been goin' my way lately!  And soon, I'll be ready to show you all something...Something I've been meaning to enact for a LONG time.  All the pieces are finally in place.  Now, come on, then, June.  Find me.  Kill me if you can.  Take the girl if she lives.  Take her from me!  Come on!  I'm WAITING ON YA, BUDDY!

Show me that determination!  That fiery, heroic spirit! Let me TEAR IT AWAY FROM YOU, INCH BY INCH!  Until you're just another broken, sad, WORTHLESS PILE OF FLESH!  HAHAHA!

Dear me, she's slipped away again

Upon tracking my quarry to New Orleans, I was faced with quite the dilemma- how to find one person who was trying very hard to hide in this enormous, sprawling heap of metal and flesh?  Well, be sure not to underestimate me, my friends- I can be quite persistent!  A couple days of inquiries and I had an address.


I tell you, this young lady is one of the hardest Runners I've ever hunted - and the irony is that she isn't even running from that dashing gentleman in black and white, but from a dashing gentleman in black and red.  Me, if you didn't know.  I'm unsure if she even knows the Tall One exists.


Upon entering the dim, abandoned building, presumably a residence of some sorts, I found my mark.  And a beautiful mark it is, long brown hair, glittering hazel eyes, nice ass, too.  Hehe.


I asked her to come with me, and she refused.  The absolute cheek of it!  I simply could not abide such rude manners and gave her a slice on the cheek to remember me by.  She cursed and spat at me.


And that was when I decided it was time to stop fuckin' around.


"Listen up, bitch.  I dunno what you think you're gonna do to get away, but even if you escape me in person, I'm always in your head.  Yeah, that's right, you know what I'm talking about.  You're just like me- you'll push anyone under the bus to make sure you come out a-ok.  Which is smart!  Good instinct.  And you've even learned to enjoy it, which is a big step!  I'm proud, for real.  But y'know, if there's one thing I can't deal with it's a liar.  Hate liars.  Fucking assholes piss me the hell off.  What gets me all fired up is how you're just like me and you don't even admit it!  You don't embrace it!  It ain't just a lie, it's a crying shame!  Wasted potential."


Ohhhh, she knew what I meant.  That look on her face...Man, I love being me.


"Aww, I think I know what it is!  You're afraid baby brother'll find out~ He'll look at his precious big sister and see a crazy bitch soaked in blood.  Can you picture that look?  HAHA!  I see you can!  Fear, confusion, sorrow...And disappointment.  Anger.  Betrayal.  Oh, it just EATS YOU UP, doesn't it?  Hahahahaha!"


Little liar screams at me to shut up.  Like fuck.


"That's why you can't stand to see my beautiful face!  Cause you look at me and see your own gorgeous face looking back.  With the eyes of a killer.  Run run run.  It won't go away.  Crawling, twitching, squirming thoughts, thoughts of the truth.  That truth no amount of time can bury.  That you and me, darling?  Are the same.  We both live for two things- ourselves, and watching other people SUFFER.  It's all we have left.  A match made in heaven, wouldn't you say?"


Screaming, clawing, I let her run away.  I certainly wasn't gonna get my suit wet with her wussy weeping, and she's already sloppier than ever at hiding her trail.  Won't be long now.  Not at all.

A new project

My my, it's been so busy in our little community, hasn't it?  The Mad Ventriloquist has had people in his disgusting rat-hole for the first time in years, Konaa had his tussle with the Tree, and of course, Mr Redlight finally bowed out.  Good riddance- no class at all, that one.  My compliments to Mr Dwyer and Mrs Delmont for showing him the door.

As for little old me?  I've been rather out of sight lately, haven't I?  I'm so sorry, my beloved fans, but my brand of cruelty may be a bit sparse in the coming days- I've a new mark, one that I've been waiting a LONG time to find.

Heh.  Heheh.  You know who you are.  Don't think you can run away from your own desire, my dear.  We're the same, and you don't need to go very deep down to realize that.

Take my hand.  Step into a new world.

Busy busy busy

Such a turbulent time we live in.  I've simply had no time whatsoever to update this blog.  Let me start out simple, shall I?  As you may have guessed from Konaa's updates, I had a bit of a discussion with dear.."H."  Oh, my poor dear, I could sense you cringing as you saw me mention you.  Don't worry.  I have no intention of revealing your identity- it amuses me further this way.

And lemme tell you, bitch, you're the easiest mark I've had yet!  Two sentences and you were weeping so hard I thought you might have turned the faucets on.  So much despair!  I wanted to take a picture of it and frame it on my wall!  Hahaha!

Konaa's excellent throw caused me a bit of pain, but I've had no time to sit and recover.  Today I sat down for an interview with a captured member of CRUSADER.  I needed information, you see, and fortunately for the young man I was in the mood to ask politely.  Unfortunately I cut his ear off halfway through my first question.  Jumped the gun, I'm afraid, always doing that, far too eager, that's my problem.

Seriously, how much blood do you fuckers HAVE?  Lay off the fatty food, assholes.

I managed to retrieve the information I sought, and I even untied him.  Of course, without either ear, a nose, or hands, I think he'll have trouble even getting to the hospital.  Oh well.  I'm sure he'll be fine.

Until next time, my friends.

Watch and learn, children

This?  Is how you destroy someone.  Completely and utterly.  So listen up and take some fucking notes.  I'm in a good mood today, and I want to do something for the common servant of the Bossman.  Hell, even if you ain't a proxy you could benefit from this handy little guide.

There are no steps, or phases, or whatever.  It's not a fucking numbered process.  Everyone, every single last one of you fleshy motherfuckers has a self destruct button.  Something about you, whether it's a part of your personality, something that happened to you in the past, a feeling you have about someone- it varies from case to case.  Sometimes they don't even know it.  Most of the time they do, but they keep it locked away.

Find it.  The one thing that person is ashamed of.  Bring it to the surface and watch them destroy themselves.  Let me give you an example.

Two months back, I pursued a group of three Runners.  Two girls and a guy, let's call them Jane, Susan, and John.  It was the same old story- the Bossman stared in their windows until they went crazy and ran.  Thing was, he didn't have any time for em, so I was sent to deal with them.  After tracking them to Chicago, I looked up some info on them on the plane over.  Jane and John were dating since last August according to their Facebooks. (always check Facebook, it's like Weaknesses-R-Us)  However, after a bit of digging, I found out that Susan and John had broke up July of last year.  Sounds like your typical teen drama boring as fuck bullshit, right?  Well it weren't.  These guys were in their mid twenties!  And Susan and John had been together for four years beforehand.  They'd even *gasp!* been engaged before breaking it off.  Shock!  Horror!

Why?  Didn't take a genius to figure it out, which is good because I am one.  Young, enterprising Jane had stolen John away from Susan by virtue of being more attractive and not quite as needy.  See, Susan had a condition.  Can't even remember what it was.  But it made the prospect of married life with her seem quite the chore.  So noble John left her.  Shameful!  What a thoroughly evil young man!  I hope you're as disgusted as I was!  But, well, turns out there's always another side to every story.  Susan hid her condition from John until well after the engagement.  Out of shame, out of fear, your guess is as good as mine, but she sprung it on him out of nowhere.  So John felt quite justified in dumping the little secret keeper.  Was he right?  Fuck if I know or care, that isn't important.  What's important is the story itself, not the moral.

I caught up with them in Chicago, where they'd been hiding in an abandoned warehouse.  As a gesture of goodwill, I walked in alone, to find Susan by her lonesome, albeit with a baseball bat.  The other two were nowhere to be seen- not home at the moment, it would seem.  I was ordered to sit and not to try any funny business.  I obeyed, being the cooperative gentleman that I am.  Then I decided it was time to start a conversation with my captor.  A breakup like that was bound to have some long lasting emotional trauma, and I wanted to help the poor woman sort it all out.  Here was our conversation in full.

S: What do you think you know about me?

R: I know everything there is to know about you, Susan, my dear.  Especially about you and a certain John...

S: And is that supposed to scare me?  Mentioning an old relationship?

R: It just seemed strange to me, is all, that the two of you would break off after such a long-

S: That's none of your business!  You're not my psychiatrist, you freak!  Stop talking.

R: I'm not?  What a shame.  You could certainly use one.

S: A-and what the hell is that supposed to mean!?

R: It meant what it sounded like, Susan.  You have many feelings about this situation, don't you?  Not the unpleasant disagreement with my employer, no- I mean about John...and Jane.

S: *She was silent, but I noted the difference in her body language now.  She was biting her lip, hard, and her eyes were narrowing.  The look on her face was simply delightful- a mixture of apprehension, and slow but steady realization.  I knew that she knew what I was talking about.*
. 
R: It isn't easy, with a condition like yours.  Always being a burden, always slowing everyone down, taking up their time.  Always feeling the shame of that, festering in the back of your mind.  The knowledge that everyone who helped you did it out of pity, and not all of them did it willingly.  The knowledge that they resented you- for what you are.

S: You...shut the hell up.

 R: It was the same with John, wasn't it?  He threw you aside the moment you proved you would be a hassle to him, and went with someone else only a month later.  Oh, but that must have HURT, Susan.

S: I-it did at the time, but it's been almost a year!  I'm not-...I've gotten over-



R: Don't lie to me, my dear.  I'm merely telling you things you already knew.  Because no matter how much you told yourself that you just wanted him to be happy and that you'd find someone else, deep down you have always known the truth.  You hate them.  You hate them both.  As you should- how dare he cast you aside because of something you cannot even control!  But instead of embracing this truthful feeling, you buried it deep, deep down, put on a brave smile, and tried to simply continue forward.

S: Sh-SHUT UP!  Stop-  Stop talking!  *The poor woman really was not looking too well at all,  with her trembling hands and shaking knees.  Having scored a wound, I hurried to open it further.*

R: Even now, on this trip, the three of you on the run, you must have felt it.  That pain in your stomach whenever they touched, the longing you feel for him to look that way at you again.  And knowing that even now, they have to help you, that you were just slowing them down.

S: *She was crying at this point, her head in her hands, as if to block out the sound of my voice.  She had dropped her weapon.  I took the liberty of standing up.*

R: And you see it when they look at you, don't you?  That lingering doubt they have.  They wonder..."Is she really worth it?"  "Maybe if we left her behind, we'd have a better chance."  "Maybe we could be alone together." Your mere presence is holding them back.  But you already know this.

S: *She had fallen to her knees, weeping openly.  I felt truly sorry for the poor woman's predicament.  It just wasn't right that they treated her that way.  I had to help.  Any decent person would help.  I walked to her, and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, leaning down to be at face level.*

R: It's alright, Susan.  None of this is your fault.  No, it's theirs, for cruelly treating you like this when you can do nothing about it.  There's still time.  You can still make things right, with this.

I removed one of my knives from within my coat, and placed it in her hand.  It was one of my special ones, a Balisong butterfly knife.  Normally I'd keep it for myself, but what can I say, poor Susan's plight simply tugged at my heart.  She dully stared at the knife in her hand, then up to me.  Slowly, she nodded.  I gave her an encouraging smile, then stepped back into the shadows.

In due time they returned, and she played her part magnificently.  Their screams of pain and confusion were music to my ears as I watched her slay first John, then Jane, then finally, herself.  I wiped a tear from my eye at the tragic ending of a tragic life.


Got it, kids?  No reason to get your suit dirty when a few words will do the trick.  Now, this was an easy scenario.  Seriously, dumb bitch bought every word.  Sometimes it don't work, y'know?  THAT is when you fall back on the Morningstar method, and brutally kill them in some hilariously gory and cruel fashion.

RIIIIIGHT!  Class dismissed!

What a strange concept

It's occurred to me that I might create a weblog of my own, in order to keep my business dealings nice and orderly.  I will report back here with any new of significant, important,  or just amusing missions I complete.

Currently I am enjoying the view here in New York City, in my temporary hotel room.  The service and food has been excellent, although the waiter in the cafe spilled wine on my suit.  However, that's not such a big deal, and we both got a good laugh out of it, especially while I strangled him in the alley behind the building.  It's almost like those dumpsters are there just to make things convenient for a gentleman like myself.

Ahahahaha.  Hurting people.  Let me tell you, folks, it never gets old!  That was a particularly satisfying strangling.  His eyes practically popped out of their sockets!  The fact that I was carving his eyes out with a knife might've helped, but hell, I ain't a biologist.

And wouldn't you know it?  He bleeds all over my clothing.  The man was simply attracted by some force, gravitational or otherwise, towards spilling things!  Awfully clumsy for a waiter.  I was one step ahead, however- I changed into casualwear beforehand!  Ha!  My suit remains as spotless as ever, although I must say the laundry bill for it did not improve the poor fellow's chance of survival, not one bit.

So I'm quite pleased with myself, and the hotel should be too, I've done them quite the favor here.  I think I will turn in for tonight.  Good evening.