Apparently Dimir sent out a Bounty Hunter onto my ass, how do I know? I killed the son of a bitch 5 days ago.
Turns out Dimir has a family of his own, a wife and a son and that day, it was one of the few instances when he left his tower, to visit them, I followed, in hopes of finishing him off.
Once he arrived, I waited about ten minutes, to make sure he didn't have his bodyguards with him, he didn't, apparently, his family doesn't like when they're around. I called him on his phone number, which I was able to find through his personal database. Saw him get up and pick up his phone through the window.
"This is Volkov."
"Look out your window."
He did as I said.
"You see me. I know you got a wife and a kid up there, come down and we'll finish this on the street. Don't make me come up and get you."
He didn't even flinch, as soon as I saw him smile, I knew something was wrong.
"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Incognito."
He hung up, a second of confusion, then it hit me, there was someone behind me, I reached inside my coat for my Colt. As I turned around, a Sledge Hammer came down, hitting my chest hard, from my pain, I squeezed the trigger on the gun, hitting the assailant in the leg, luckily.
Ribs were broken, it hurt to breathe, but I had only one question in my mind: "Who the fuck is this?"
The guy was dressed in a checkered shirt, jeans, brown boots, looked like lumber jack. As I was struggling to stand up, I tried to aim my gun more properly, I was too slow, he hit the gun right out of my hand with the Sledge Hammer, shattering my fingers to hell. The guy was as strong as a bull. Had to end it quickly. He swung one more time, I ducked, broke the side window of my Van. Knowing that I hit him in the leg earlier, I kicked him in the bullet wound, that made him slow down, however, it didn't give me enough time to get some distance, he hit me with the hammer one more time, this time in the stomach, a lot more weaker this time, still the hit had sent me flying.
I was on the ground, my other hand exposed, he didn't think for a second, he delivered a hard blow with the Sledge Hammer, onto my other hand, shattering it to hell as well. I equipped my boots, with inside knives, so that when I swing my leg to hard with the intention of kicking someone, a knife would come out from the front. I used those boots to kick and stab him in the other leg, while I was on the ground. The hit made him stumble back, gave me the time to get up and kick him again, this time between the legs and then slice his face with the same boot.
My hands were on fire, bones were grating, fuck it, it's only pain. I was trying to reach inside of my Van through the broken side window, was trying to reach for a nearby weapon, the one that was the closest, was a tazer. Picking it up was a pain, aiming it was a bigger pain, pushing the button was hell, however I did it, shot him right in the chest, electrocuting him, the motherfucker didn't seem to go down. In fact, he was able to pull the fucking thing out of his chest, all the while being able to swing his hammer, hitting me right in the side of my face. I would have fallen down, if it wasn't for the wall which I leaned against, first thought was to run, live to fight another day, but then I saw a dumpster with a chain sticking out of it. My mouth was filled with blood, head was throbbing, getting dizzy, pretty sure the jaw was broken, I wanted to pass out, but I couldn't. Grabbed the chain, was barely able to wrap it around my broken hand, I could hear my finger bones popping, could feel them breaking through skin, each punch would be agony, had to make it count. So I delivered a strong punch to the side of his face, it took me six punches with the chain to make him kneel down. As he knelt down, I tried to make him stay down and ask for more information.
"If you want to live, stay the fuck down, who are you?"
All I heard in response was a whistle. Then behind me I saw two horses with a carriage run towards me, next second I found myself under them, being trampled by their sharp, iron hooves. The horses ran up to him, so I assume they were his, I was barely able to get up and start running, while he was trying to get up as well. My shoulder was out of socket, lung punctured, I could taste blood and bile, bleeding internally, I needed a moment to catch my breath, to focus. But it was clear, when he got the Axe from his carriage, that I wasn't going to get one. I was going numb, couldn't fight, had to run, run old man.
Luckily we were near a neighborhood full of garages, one of them was mine, somehow I was able to outrun him, can't even remember me running, must have been the adrenaline and state of shock, plus survival instinct. I was fumbling with the keypad buttons for what seemed like forever, finger like wet noodles. Eventually, I was able to open the garage door, I needed only five minutes, five more minutes, I could hear the horses in the distance, I got inside the garage, I set up about 2, M18 Claymore Mines, took the remote to them and hid behind the storage crates. I could hear him and his horses walk inside, he knew I was behind the crates, probably saw my blood trail:
"You wanna come out and fight? Or hide like an old woman?"
He should't have spoken, that gave me the indication that he was near by, time to set off the charges. Blood and guts flew all around the garage walls, when I looked outside, I saw two dead horses, it was clear that they took the majority of the blast, I saw him buried underneath their guts, blood and bodies, I prayed that he was dead, so I could pass out.
No, he was still moving and groaning:
"You Godless son of a bitch."
If he wasn't busy trying to kill me, I'd as him what he east for breakfast. He was charging at me like a bull. Tree bark and rust old nails, that would be my guess. He grabbed me by the throat and pushed me, I was standing behind a door leading downstairs into the underground, so we were falling downstairs. The floor hit me like a howitzer shell, I felt my hip fracture and my other good lung on fire. Not to mention his grip on my throat was still as strong as a vise and it was getting tighter. I felt like a fucking dead man.
I had to fight, had to live, to kill. Through blurry vision, I saw something sticking out from his shoulder, looked like a bone, I pushed it with my broken hand, it made him yell in pain. I have to fight, to wake up tomorrow, to keep on killing. The pain from the bone made him let go of my neck, grab my broken hand and squeeze it, it hurt like hell, pain, pain means I'm alive, live to kill. He put my arm behind my back, turned me over onto my belly and started slamming my head against the concrete, once, twice, three times, then he let go.
I don't know what he wanted to do, but he got greedy, he tried to grab one my guns which were hanging from the wall, on the metal rack, that's the only thing, which could explain him getting his ass electrocuted and finally knocking him down on the floor for a long period of time. Security system, the metal rack had a 20.000 volt charge. even though he was on the ground, he was beginning to slowly get up, luckily, he was near my table, on top of which was my safe with some of my money inside. Had to improvise, so I pushed the safe down, right on top of his head, splattering it on the floor.
He was finally fucking dead, I knelt down, about to pass out and then I saw them... The photos of my family, floating amongst the money in that fuck's blood and then it hit me, my daughter's birthday was two weeks ago and I didn't even remember.
Over the course of those five days, my personal doctor patched me up. Last five days, I've been laying low in one of my bases, licking up my wounds.
Can't sleep, hands throb, back aches, head's killing me. I used to sleep three hours, eat a bunch of bacon and march out to meet the day, feeling like I could wrestle a bear if need be. When did I get so Goddamn old? Doc left pain medicine and sleeping pills behind, enough to have me sleeping like a baby in no time. I flushed them down the toilet, can't afford to dull my senses, not even for a moment, if I ever get that damn old, might as well be dead.
I can't even remember, Kristine's voice.
Dr. Karkof’s report #14, 1993, February 1st:
Aside from Wallace, other orderlies kept away from Oleg. Nothing happened until Oleg’s eighth birthday, January 23rd. In the grove, we had this tradition, that whenever there was someone’s birthday, we would gather all the patients in the cafeteria and present them a cake. I wondered how Oleg might react to kindness.
The second the cake was put on the table, Adrian snapped instantly and started dismembering the cake, not sharing with anyone. Wallace immediately pulled him away from the cake, putting him back in his cell. The cake was not touched since that moment; all the inmates remained in their corners, silent.
Later that night, right before sleep, Adrian went to take a shower. They later found him unconscious on the floor, his entire body covered with second-degree burns. Some areas, such as his face, suffered deep tissue damage. He spent a month in the infirmary. Of course, no one saw anything; none of the staff could explain how it happened. All the inmates except Adrian were in the dormitory.
Adrian died in his sleep, apparently of natural causes. An autopsy revealed no health problems. His heart just stopped.
The inmates keep dying and now I know its Oleg for sure, problem is, no one believes me.
Report #104 Ended.