Almost had him.

Report #105 2014, April 28th.

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:



Transcription:

"Dr. Karkof’s report #32, 2000, December 2^nd:

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 12^th, 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."

Report Ended.

Bounty Hunter

Report #104 2014, April 21st.

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.


Another tape:



Transcription:

Dr. Karkof’s report #14, 1993, February 1^st:

Aside from Wallace, other orderlies kept away from Oleg. Nothing happened until Oleg’s eighth birthday, January 23^rd. 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.

Case File: Dimir Volkov

I've been hunted throughout Moscow by the police for several months now, but after the last posts incident, I am now being targeted by soldiers, military, Dimir is pulling out the serious guns. So I thought if I was going against a large player like that, I should know him better. Almost lost my head getting these documents, but I did. Before I begin, I would like to say, this guy was alive since 1944, his recent (2010) photos show him at the age of only 57, don't ask how, I have no idea, one of the benefits serving IT I guess.

He was born in Romania, in a gypsy family. Since at the time, Nazi's were bombing Romania, he and his family were able to escape to Russia, but of course, communists didn't take lightly to outsiders, they lived in Russia for ten years, the communists hounded them. They were able to escape again, in hopes of getting to Switzerland, they decided to take a shortcut through Germany (A stupid mistake). At the time they were camping in Bavaria, in the foothills, then Nazis came. He tried to run, but he wasn't fast enough, the Nazi's caught up with him and beat him with his own father's whip, this is how he lost his left eye.

Nazis left him for dead, his family dead. As he says in this interview, when he woke up, he saw wolves, surrounding him, he thought they were gonna finish what the Nazis have started, but he was wrong, according to his interview, the wolves took him in, they brought him food, nurtured him until he recovered and when he could travel by himself, he left them. As he was journeying through the forests of Germany, he started noticing IT, he assumed it was his guardian angel, or something among that shit. One night he was camping in the hills, at that moment in time, Nazis were coming towards him, luckily for him, he wasn't asleep and heard them a mile away. This bastard was crafty, he set up several traps around his campsite, he was able to take out 5 Nazis, without using their weaponry, only using a custom made whip. That's when he saw IT again, this time he was standing right in front of IT, he showed no signs of Fear, he could hear the whispers in his ears, telling him what to do.

After that, he stole one of the Nazi's uniforms, their passport and weaponry and ever since then, remained undercover. Ever since that time, he was slowly spreading the word of IT, up to the point that he was able to organize several Nazi projects which concentrated on researching IT, sometimes even replicating IT. All of that, was an undercover operation to slowly build an empire which served IT.

There's like a hundred reports of where he traveled, he's been everywhere, he's been in Russia 10 times, he's been busy.

This guy is serious business, now he is my business.

Helping a Friend

Report #103 2014, March 14th

On the day of my previous post, I received a video message from a man called Dimir a.k.a. The Oracle of Moscow. When I saw the video, I saw Alexandria tied up in the middle of some big room (Looked like a warehouse at the time) gagged, she didn't seem to be hurt. I couldn't quite see him, but the voice off screen introduced himself as Dimir, he said that he captured Alexandria and he wanted me to arrive to the warehouse, pick her up and then leave Moscow, since I was interrupting his business here, he gave me an address and a date, and a stipulation. If I came to pick Alexandria up earlier than the date given, he would kill her, if I came later, she could end up killed. So I had to wait until a certain date and only then, could I pick her up.

Ignoring the rule, I took my leave towards the warehouse non-the less, however, I didn't go in, I kept my distance, scouting the area for the past three days for any traps, for any ambushes, etc... It was obvious that this was a trap.

Finally the day has come, all the people which were guarding the warehouse, started packing and leaving the place, both from the outside and inside. Soon enough, about 4 cars left the area and through the window, I could only see Alexandria, in the middle of the warehouse, still sitting there.

Taking my M-16, my Desert Eagle, My battle knife and two of my smoke grenades, I went towards the Warehouse's back entrance. I was prepared for everything, my senses on edge and then I heard him:

"Who the fuck are you?"

A man was pointing an AK at me, as tall as me, packing strong heat. With no hesitation I point my Desert Eagle at him as well, it is obvious he wanted answers, otherwise he would have shot me right from the beginning, kept my left arm behind my back, on one of my smoke grenades.

"That's something I should be asking you." 

After stalling for a little bit, I released the smoke grenade from behind me, in a matter of seconds, smoked filled up the place, giving me a chance to take cover, which I did so. He did the same thing, now that there was smoke everywhere, my eye sight was limited, questions were running through my head, but I had to block them out and concentrate. I realized that while my eye sight was limited, that also meant, that he's eye sight was also limited. I could use that to my advantage, all I had to do was not give away my position, something, he didn't think about, since he yelled out:

"Packing some serious heat there, huh?  So you're fucking armed to the teeth and you're hiding your face and you came in through the back. You got something to hide. So. You. Answer."

While he was yammering on, I unwrapped my M-16 from my back and aimed at the location where his yells were coming from. And I shot in the direction of where the sound was coming from,I don't know if I hit him, but after about 20 seconds of spraying the direction I was aiming at with bullets, I had to take cover again.

While reloading, I should have moved, my mistake, he used the sound of gunfire as the source and shot in the direction of where the gunfire came from, but instead of shotting at my cover, he shot at the lights which were right above me. Didn't have time to move, put my right arm in front of the light, covering my head and eyes, second degree burn marks on my arm, glass impaled into my skin, bleeding from my arm, top it all off, it was dark now. The eye sight was impossible to operate in, I had to stay smart, which is why I put the M-16 back onto my back and took out my battle knife, realizing full well, if one of us shot, we would give away our position.

Sitting in one position, was also not making me any favors, so I started sneaking towards the location where this man previously was (I assumed). As I was sneaking, I stumbled upon a figure in the middle of the room, I was about to attack, however, this figure was lot more smaller than the man and then I remembered why I was here:

"Alexandria, if it is you, give a quiet hum."

She did as I said.

"Stay quiet, there's some nut case with an AK here." 

I cut her ropes loose and gave her a Desert Eagle.

"I assume you still remember how to use these?" 

She whispered to me.

"Yes. Thank you." 

She tried to get herself together and remain strong, but it was clear that she was terrified, I knowa look of terror when I see one. And then from a distance I heard:

"Come on motherfucker, if it was your daughter in danger, you'd do whatever it fucking took to save her."

Alexandria immediately aimed a Desert Eagle in the direction of where the yell came from, she was shaking, she wouldn't be able to take an accurate shot "It's him."
 It didn't take me long to figure out who this man was, Artsyom, her father, now it all made sense, Dimir must have invited him as well, so we would wipe each other out, however, now I had an advantage, he didn't know who I am. I signaled to Alexandria to give me the gun and whispered to her after she gave it to me:

"Give me the gun and play along." 

Then I put her in front of me and pointed a gun at her head, I hated doing so, but it was obvious that he wouldn't let her die, he is obsessed with her, I had to press his buttons.

"I have your daughter at gun point! If you want me not to unload a bullet in her skull, you will show yourself right now, no tricks." 

Alexandria played along.

"I'm sorry! I'm fucking sorry! OK? Dad? Just... don't let him hurt me... please."

Then I saw a hand appear from a counter which he was apparently using as cover.

"If you're making it a me-or-her decision, go ahead and shoot her."

He was stalling, he was planning something, he was thinking, I had to interrupt that thinking, had to make him think more vividly. So I whispered to Alexandria to fall down after I shoot, as I explained that to her, I wiped my blood, from my previously injured arm, all over her head and then I shot in the air, then I let her go, for her to fall down, pretending as if she was dead. Then I quickly got out my M-16 and aimed at where his hand was.

And then he dived out of the cover, aiming at me, he saw her "dead" body.

"Whatever you wanted from her, you coulda just asked me; my prices don't sting, you know. 'Course, now I gotta fucking kill you now, haven't I?"

Meanwhile, I kicked my right boot, which had a hidden knife in it's heel pocket, so Alexandria had a weapon just in case.

"So you're Artsyom." 

After that, I opened fire,aiming at his legs, thinking that the shock of the bullet wounds, would make him fall and drop the weapons, my big mistake. I hit him but...

"The one and fuckin' only." 

He opened rapid fire in my direction, assuming that Alexandria was dead, he was reckless, that is something I didn't think about, I took two shots in the chest, my Kevlar protected me, however Alexandria ended up getting shot in the shoulder. That made her gasp and yell out of pain, showing that she is alive. But it wasn't complete failure, because that yell stopped him.

"Do you have a particular reason for pretending to kill my daughter? I mean, it's not too late to just say what you want and I'll tell you the price." 

He sounded shocked to see her alive, whatever the emotion he was going through was, it bought me time to run up to him and kick the gun out of his hands and aim my M-16 down his skull, without taking my eyes off of him I yell to Alexandria, asking if she was ok, I didn't get an answer, only the painful moans. Then I saw that smile on his face.

"I'll give you two options. Option one is, I leave. Peacefully. I will not disturb you unless I run into you again, better prepared. Doesn't take a genius to realize I underestimated you. Option two is, you pull the trigger. Like every instinct is telling you to. So shoot, let the noise send Alexandria even deeper into shock. By the time you dispose of my dead body, by the time that fuckwit sends in his cavalry, she'll be dead."

I'm not quite sure who he was talking about, but he was right about the gunfire noise, sending Alexandria deeper into shock...

"That's why I will use a knife, rather than a gun." 

I took out my knife, took him by the shirt and pulled him towards my knife, all I had to do was cut his throat, I saw his eyes, they were not of fear, rather they were of surprise, as if he saw something, he never saw. As I was about to cut him, a flash of light happened in front of me, blinding me and then some sort of force pushed me away from Artsyom, making me fall on my back, forcing me to do a roll backwards to get back up to my feet. As I adjust my eye sight, I see him...

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that Incogny, this is Minxie's trophy."

Kelevra... Every instinct in my body was telling me to shoot him, I saw him exchange some words with Artsyom for a second, didn't care, had to shoot, however, realizing that I wasn't prepared for such an encounter, and much more importantly, realizing that Alexandria was hurt, I rushed back to her, I knew that Kelevra wasn't there to kill me, I didn't find all the tapes yet, he was there to stop me from killing Artsyom. As I reached Alexandria, I asked...

"You ok? It's just a bullet wound, you had worse."

That was the truth, when I first met her, she had a much worse bullet wound, this one was less dangerous, however, I stall had to mend it.

"I'm - fine." 

She didn't sound like she was, however, that must have been the shock and fear speaking, getting shot is always scary. I picked her up, I had to take her back to my Van and mend the bullet wound, but before leaving, I left a nice little warning for the two future dead men behind me

"As for the both of you, I will kill you later." 

As I said that, I heard a faint beeping becoming louder inside the Warehouse, didn't take me long to figure out, that the place was rigged to explode, that was his plan, to wipe all of us out, in one swift blow.

I started rushing towards the exit, but I was just too slow, the fire was about to engulf both of us, I don't like using it, but I had to, so I told the substance inside of me, to stretch four tentacles out of my back and push us out of the Warehouse, it did so by sticking itself into the ground as I was running and literally pushing both of us through the front entrance, we got out, just in time.

As I looked at Alexandria, she was coughing from the smoke, from the explosion.

"Fucking... hell... he was trynna... kill all of us..... honestly.... I didn't expect anyone to... turn up."

"I don't abandon people in need." 

And then I carried her to my Van, which was parked not too far away, as I put her down on one of the seats inside the Van, she said...

"Maybe now... you see why I fucking hate Artsyom..."

I went to the back of the Van, to get my Med Kit.

"He is cocky, over confident. He thinks he has control over you. Use it to your advantage. Surprise him. Don't do what he expects and always expect him. And next time you see him, just kill him, no hesitation." 
I finished treating the bullet wound.

"I'll try..." 

The enthusiasm she had when we met for the first time, she doesn't have it anymore, this is proof enough that this game corrupts everyone, she is becoming cold, maybe it is for the best, as long as she doesn't cross the line, I will always be willing to help her. Vikady would probably be able to make her smile...

"You've... seen the Archangel before... right...? Like... one or twice?"

I did, The Archangel saved me two times, first time by shooting IT in the head from it's rifle. Second time by shooting the crabs which were about to rip me into pieces, when I was trying to help out Owly.

"Why are you asking?" 

"Need to... get it to follow me."

I don't know, how smart that idea is, however I always said, stupid is smart in this game.

"Can't help you there." 

I put the Med kit back inside the Van.

"You can sleep in my Van over night, in the morning I will give you some weapons, some money and I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you, I have a very important lead I need to follow, alone." 

She looked at me, with an understanding and quite frankly not caring look.

"Understood."

The next day I dropped her off where she asked me to, gave her enough supplies to survive for a month and gave her the weapons of her choosing.

This girl, she went through so much shit, the life and passion she had in her eyes when we first met, this person, that I saved, this is someone else, this game corrupts all of us. Sickens me.

Report #103 Ended.

Not qualified as a report

A little message, if I disappear for too long that means I probably stumbled upon a trap knowingly and died. Why do I march straight into a trap? Cause I need to help an old friend.

Tape #2

Report #102 2014, March 1st.

Police, Proxies it seems as if all of them are coming after me 24/7. I can't relax for a second, they just keep coming and coming, I don't know how they locate me, but one thing I know for sure, they all have a death wish. The thing inside of me, I avoid using it, I'd rather stick to something I know and that's a side arm, however, when waves and waves of enemies comes pouring down on me, I have no choice but to use the substance that inhabits my body. I hate using it, it's a good weapons, kill efficiently, it's just that this thing is a part of IT, the thought alone makes me want to shoot myself. But I refuse to die, I refuse to even acknowledge the possibility, not that I have anyone around to acknowledge it to, There is no God, there are no souls, all that we are is meat and bone, these are certainties I learned long ago. My body is merely a tool, my body is a weapon I care for, I care for it like I care for my AR-15 or AA-12 assault shotgun. And that substance is merely a weapon as well, just like me.

I know why all the police is gunning after me, the local Oracle, according to Kelevra, his name is Dimir Volkov, didn't have time to do research on him, yet. Will do that once I have a few minutes of free time. Now, next tape Kelevra pointed me to.



Transcription:

"Dr. Karkof’s report #5, 1993, January 13^th:

Last week, Tonny O’Malley was injured. You wouldn’t think a crayon could do much damage, but O’Malley lost his left eye. Roger, our self-mutilator and biblical scholar seemed to claim the responsibility.

Dr. Jennifer Hill, my colleague and dearest friend, after the incident, asked me what happened, if it had something to do with Ponomarenko. I told her that it was nothing conclusive, but I had a suspicion that Oleg was involved somehow. She agreed with me and agreed that Oleg should be moved to a separate room, she knew that Dr. Komarov was totally against the idea. I proposed to her, that if we went together and explained the situation to Dr. Komarov, he would actually consider it. She agreed to do it on one condition, that I take her out to dinner.

Once again we went to Komraov’s office, proposing the same suggestion, to move Oleg to a separate room. But just like last time, his dismissed it completely.

As the week passed, my daily sessions with Oleg grew increasingly frustrating. After the drawing episode he seemed to shut down completely. Not even talking about my own troubled childhood elicited the faintest response. Thinking about the death of my parents when I was eleven depressed me.

At least I found I had a friend in Dr. Hill. Like me, her politics were liberal, and we shared the same beliefs concerning psychotherapy: that “Insanity” was possibly the reaction of a sane mind to a sick society. As for Oleg, Jennifer agreed with me that the drawing indicated the murder of his family was a conscious, malicious act and that he wasn’t insane.

I’d never been close to anyone; I liked to keep my distance. My work was my life. But I realized she was special. Soon my life revolved around our developing friendship, and Oleg, always Oleg.

After O’Malley’s “accident” with the crayon the other patients kept their distance. A strange silence descended on the juvenile ward as if Oleg’s presence had a calming effect on their troubled minds. Perhaps it was fear.

The Juvenile ward was never so silent, it’s…disturbing. I’m used to insane remarks the patients always made, the insane yells. Now…just silence."

Tape #1

Report #101 2014, February 21st.

Took me some time to understand and translate the tape, these are the recordings of Kelevra's therapist. I don't really care about them, but they are leading me to Kelevra through Moscow. Take a listen if you want:

Transcription:
"Dr. Karkof’s report #1, 1993, January 2^nd:

For the first time in my 38 year career as a psychotherapist, I am disturbed. My new patient worries me, hence the reason for these personal recordings, to keep the progress I make in check, as well as my own well-being. My latest patient, he seems so innocent and yet there is something I can’t put my finger on. It seemed there was nothing left of the boy.

Oleg may have brutally murdered his entire family, but Smith’s grove was no place for a seven year-old boy. Dr. Komarov, the main doctor in the whole grove, I proposed to him to move Oleg into a private room, give him a play area…for therapeutic reasons. He refused to comply, stating that this is a Sanitarium, not a summer camp for naughty little boys.

There were only a handful of other boys in the juvenile ward, but they were teenagers, all were deeply disturbed, some had killed. For a seven-year-old, even someone like Oleg Ponomarenko, it was an inhuman jungle. Adrian, an idiot savant with an eating compulsion, whom the others called ‘donut’. Roger was a biblical expert…and a self-mutilator. And then there was Tonny O’Malley, a violent psychopath.

Being locked away with these hopeless cases was going to make my job so much harder.

It took a week. He remained as silent as the grave. But at least he responded. I believed it was a breakthrough. I asked him to draw whatever he liked.

The drawing was a depiction of him, standing over his Father’s and Mother’s dead bodies. I was foolish, naïve. I was both disturbed and delighted…this was the first indication Oleg acknowledged he knew what he’d done. Perhaps I could prove he wasn’t insane. I asked him if he wanted to talk about the picture, if there was something he wanted to tell me. But of course, he didn’t speak.

That is it for this day, after today’s session, I feel like something’s wrong, that something’s coming my way, I can’t explain it. Nervous breakdown? Could be."