Showing posts with label Encouragement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Encouragement. Show all posts

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.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

A Mood Piece

I-… We…
This is fucking stupid.

I’ve been ungrounded. We’ve been driving toward ‘something’ to ‘somewhere’. Fracture got a good bruise on his arm after giving me that smug answer but I haven’t been able to get him to give me another one since. That’s not the ridiculous part though.

Fracture has me writing stuff for him to post with his account. What the hell was the point of making him a contributor if I still have to write when he posts. It’s just incredibly fucking stupid. Even now he continues to try to explain it like a broken record.

“It sets the mood. It gives context to what’s going on. Quit calling me stupid.”
He just goes on and on and on.

How’s this for mood? Did I get enough context in there for you. Stupid.


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The following took place roughly 15 minutes before departing from the motel.
I had finished packing my own personal effects and was heading out to meet subject 926 at the car. I opened the door to find 926 wasn’t at the car. He was on the walk way just outside the door staring off into the view of trees waiting for me.

“We’re heading for another test aren’t we? They still aren’t done with me yet are they? They aren’t ever going to done with me,” he said growing increasingly bitter with every word he said until he was practically growling with each word he spoke.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I’m not supposed to give 926 any indicators of whether or not the testing was done or whether or not it would ever end. In light of my orders, I suppose I did the wrong thing here.

I reached out to 926 and put a hand on his shoulder.
“… I’m sorry,” I said letting my tone tell most of what I wanted to say for me. And then after I gave that a few seconds to sink in I gave his shoulder a tight squeeze. Something I knew he would recognize as encouragement.
“You can do this. Man the fuck up.”

Only then did he start to calm down again.
After a minute of us standing there like that, he put his hand on my hand and he turned to face me. He nodded in acknowledgement… and then he slugged me hard in the face knocking me on my ass.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he said and then headed for the car.

Analysis: We should have never separated 926 completely from his peers. Subject appears to depend on support to maintain control. I suggest revaluating our long term plans for 926.
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For the record, I don’t need support. I don’t need anything.
Fracture sees what he wants to see.