Somebody's been selling out my hideouts, this was about the fourth hideout, where I found Dimir's men crawling through my belongings. Out of two previous encounters, I learned that I can't even come home without a gun at the ready, in this case, my trusty M-16 was ready to do some house cleaning.
They saw me, in about 3 seconds you could hear the screams, yelling out "He's here!" those three seconds is all I needed to start raising hell. Start shooting them up, they thought they would get the drop on me, sucks to be them, they were the ones who were trapped in there, with me.
As I was shooting crowds of them down, I swear I saw Kelevra standing in the middle of all that chaos, I tried to get through all the men, to make sure it was him and put a bullet in his head, however, I saw him walk away into the next room, casually, like I wasn't even there.
After about 38 men dead on my floor, my suspicions were confirmed, it was him. He was standing in a small room, behind bulletproof doors, which I constructed in case of an ambush. Bullets would never penetrate that glass, he tried talking to me, but I couldn't hear him.
I saw him get something out of his jacket, I didn't care, I was examining the walls around the doors, the walls were pretty shitty, these hideouts of mine, didn't last nicely throughout the years. I turned to check on what he was doing, I saw that stupid smile pressed against the glass, holding a piece of paper with "What's you'r favorite color? Red, right?" written on it.
I figured, since the walls were shit, might as well blow them up and go around, so I rolled a grenade near the walls, around the doors, before running away, I saw him with a different note: "Blue?"
Took cover in the next room, explosion, go back inside the room, see that the room where Kelevra was, is empty. His stupid teleportation tricks are getting on my nerves. In fact, he is getting on my nerves, he is insane, he kills without reason, delights in murder, takes pleasure in it. I knew men like that during my line of work, I killed men like that since. They use their insanity as a weapon, use it to make them stronger, unpredictable, clever.
Some people would tell you that I'm crazy, they would be wrong. It's not crazy when the state of the world makes you want to kill everyone responsible. It's crazy when it doesn't.
I had to get out of my hideout, so I go up the stairs, outside into the alleyways, however, the cops are already there, two of them, pointing their guns at me, yelling: "Drop the fucking gun!" followed by threats that they will mow me down. Now if these boys were on Dimir's payroll, they would have blown my brains out, no questions asked, still I was short on time, had to get out quick,shot them in their legs, made them fall down, never shot innocent cops before.
No turning back now. Cops will keep after me, all of them, even the ones who are not on Dimir's payroll, since I just shot their buddies. No way of knowing who's dirty and who's honest, they're all just in my way now. I should have told them something, tell them I didn't want a war, tell them it's Dimir and Kelevra I'm after. Wouldn't matter, let them hate me if they want, makes my job harder.
But when was it easy?
Another tape of Kelevra's (Oleg's) personal therapist:
"Dr. Karkof’s report #32, 2000, December 2nd:
As the years passed, Oleg’s silence continued, he appeared totally docile; you could say he was a “model” inmate. Except the other patients continued to have problems. Roger committed suicide. He bit off his own tongue and choked. O’Malley became increasingly delusional and violent, but turned that violence against himself, he was confined to a padded cell.
By the time Oleg turned 14, we had almost forgotten why he resided at Smith’s Grove, then that fool Komarov insisted on a Halloween Party. I protested as much as I could, it was a bad idea, to mix up boys and girls for this night. He still refused to believe that Oleg was behind all of those deaths, I told him if another patient were to die, their blood will be on his hands.
I was planning on stopping the party anyway, until Jennifer interfered. She told me that she’s the center of my world, that I tried everything I could, that Oleg was a hopeless case, that I should let go. She gestured to her ring which I gave to her on September 12th, saying that now we had other things to think about.
However, I should have stopped the party, even if Komarov would fire me. In the middle of the party, the lights went out. Smith’s Grove’s emergency generators were old. It took minutes for the power to return, by then my worst fears were realized. Oleg, of course was nowhere near Nancy when she was found dead, drowned in the barrel for apple bobbing.
After I heard the news, I rushed back to the Grove; I stormed into Oleg’s cell, grabbed him by the collar, and asked him how he did it, no response. His silence frustrated me, I was about to hit that little demon, when Jennifer ran in to stop me. She embraced me, told me it was an accident that Nancy slipped, banged her head and drowned. She told me that it was enough, that I had to stop blaming the boy, that he belonged in a supervised medical facility. He belonged in prison. She told me that my talents were wasted here; she wanted her husband to have a successful private practice. They will find someone else to look after Oleg.
I didn’t want to hear the truth, I needed to think. But Jennifer was correct, as usual. I was obsessed with my work. Frustrated with Oleg and my lack of progress. I’m jumping at imaginary shadows."