Sunday, May 6, 2012

A Cold Blooded Killer

So that didn’t go well. Poor subject 926.
So ashamed he’s having me write this for him.

We’ve had 5 casualties so far in his effort to non-lethally subdue someone. I’ve tried to coach him through it but he has this terrible habit of not actually listening to anything I say. He just nods and then gets really mad after his mark is already good and dead. To be perfectly honest, I’m not convinced he isn’t doing it on purpose.

“I keep reflexively finishing the job.”
Much like an animal, once he gets started instincts seem to take over and somebody dies. It happens every time, and each and every time he just looks absolutely crushed about it.

First there was the teaser. He was so confident he could pull it off with a teaser. He sneaks right up behind the man without making a single sound and zap. Down goes the mark, limp on the floor. Zap, zap, zap. Subject 926 just keeps zapping the poor bastard. By the time I managed to pull Duckie off of him, the man as already very dead.

Next up he tried to subdue his mark using a marker. That seemed to be going well at first. He had his mark winded and leaning back against the wall. Much like that time though, he just didn’t stop. He keeps pounding away into this guy’s chest with the marker until it finally breaches his ribs and pierces his lung. I guess I should count my lucky starts that didn’t happen to me after I came at him with a shovel.

The bit with the gun was interesting. He claims he hasn’t used a firearm in two years but he’s a hell of a shot. The plan was to shoot his mark in the leg once. I even told him where to shoot to minimize damage as much as possible while still disabling his mark. He jumps out in front of his mark and bam. He hit her right on the bull’s-eye.  And then immediately, before she even hits the ground, proceeds to shoot her in the heart and head.

I feel personally responsible for what happened with the chloroform. I forget he doesn’t watch almost any TV. I gave him the cloth and the bottle of chloroform and told him “you just cover her mouth with it and she’ll be out like a light.” He then proceeded to put the bottle right to her mouth and force fed her the entire bottle of chloroform.

And finally there was that thing with the net. I don’t even want to talk about that one it was so terrible. I’m actually vomiting in my mouth a little right now remembering it. I mean, I spent a few years working as a doctor but that was just… and there goes the vomit all over my pants. Lovely.

“What the fucks wrong with me?”

“You’re a fucking animal, that’s what’s wrong with you.” And then I braced for a punch but it didn’t come. I looked up to find him just staring at his hands bewildered still.
“… I’m sure it’s not your fault. I bet they went through great lengths to make sure you always followed through on your kills.”

“That’s a great observation Fracture. What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”

“Follow your own advice?”


“I believe you said focus your rage so you can own and control it? You don’t have to always follow through Duckie. Just, you know, the fire and other crazy cult shit. I’m sure you can figure this out.”

That conversation happened yesterday. He spent all of today moping around deep in thought.

 I don’t think I’m going to be able to help him with this one. Control is just something he is going to have to figure out for himself I guess.

Fracture out.


  1. I think you're deeply underestimating the significance of the fact that he didn't attack you. At all. Something you've said must have meant something to him.

    1. I was personally under the impression that he was just that upset.

    2. I have a feeling that he could be in a coma and still find time to slug you, Fracture. That's some serious grief, if you're right.

  2. Out of the box thinking time!

    Perhaps you need to get something reeeeeaaaaally nonlethatl. Like a foam pool noodle or something. And then when his instincts to kill kick in, it's going to be so useless to start with that he'll end up just knocking them out. Or something.

    1. Something to be considered when he pulls himself out of his little funk.

  3. ... It's not all that surprising. I'm guessing that 926 -my apologies, Swan- has some sort of mental block. Something akin to trauma. Judging from where he came from, it's altogether possible that he's physically incapable of stopping himself.

    That being said, these endeavours are absolutely useless. If you want to make a difference, then you'll have to examine the reason he can't stop.

    1. Always a page ahead of the rest.
      I believe you're right. As hard as this is for him, there is likely a deep rooted cause. Or causes.

      I have been going through the notes of those that handled him but I haven't found anything yet. At least not any one thing to pin it down as.

      This is further complicated by the fact that swan left at roughly 6 o'clock this morning after a car plowed through our front door. It seems Picasso finally found us and Duckie took off after her.

      I hope you're partially wrong or she may very well be dead now.