Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Une Petit Mettre au Courant

My apologies for my lack of posting, dears. I’ve had a terribly busy week. You see, shortly after my last post I was arrested by an FBI task force. They put me in manacles. Such an indignity, and I was forced to endure it the entire way to Frankfort, Kentucky, where I was processed into a federal holding facility. Several days of nearly constant interrogation followed, most focusing on my anatomical investigations over the last three years. They subjected me to unbearably bright lights, constant noise and yelling, and all manner of extremely painful sensory inputs. It was more than I could bear, dears. I honestly thought I was going to die, but by the third day I was too weak to even plot revenge. From the smirks some of the agents were wearing, I believe they knew precisely what their abuse was doing to me. I eventually realized that their interest in me was more than simply penal. Sometime around the fourth day, they began asking me questions about Father. Thankfully, even through a fog of agony and fatigue I still had the personal strength to hold my tongue.

On the sixth day, I was informed (to my surprise) that my lawyer had come to see me. I’ve never hired a lawyer, dears, so this was most unexpected. It turned out to be a Mr. Taben Roye, an admirer of mine, wearing a suit and doing a rather decent lawyer impression. He had managed to sneak in a knife. At this point I was fatigued, in agony such as I’d never experienced before, and ANGRY at the way they’d treated me. It was time to take manners into my own hands. For the first time since He made me His, I used the gifts He had given me to their full extent. I kicked the interview room’s door off its hinges and proceeded to slaughter everything in my path on my way out of the building. There was no time for artistry, so instead I went for brutality. Men were stabbed, necks snapped, limbs forcibly torn from their bodies…it was beautiful in its own way, I suppose. I was in no mood to appreciate it. Mr. Roye followed me out of the building. I must say, I approve of the levity he showed in bludgeoning injured agents to death with the severed limbs of other agents.

We eventually made it to the evidence storage area. I killed the guards there, then retrieved my kit and foil as well as a few other useful items. Foil in hand, I proceeded to exit the premises. One of the agents in this facility apparently had an extra source of income, as his mode of transportation was a lovely 2010 Ford Mustang, black. We stole it. I must say, as much as I love my motorcycle, this car is a wonderful machine. We were able to completely lose our pursuers after almost two hours of pursuit, and after a quick stop to swap license plates with another car and deactivate the Mustang’s tracker, we continued into the Kentucky hills. At the moment I’m sitting in a dark room at a motel whose location I shall not disclose. We will most likely remain here for another day or two as I finish recovering from the abuse heaped on my by your dear public servants. After that…I feel a need to press south. Mr. Roye shall accompany me until I tire of him. He’s actually quite useful as a servant, though he talks entirely too much and is continually attempting to look down my shirt, a fact I do NOT appreciate. Still…he’s more useful than annoying, and as long as that remains the case I shall continue to use him.

Ta ta for now, dears. It’s good to be back.

11 comments:

  1. So long as the profit is greater than the expense, then it doesn't matter in the end.

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  2. I swear our colonial cousins are so mind-blowingly lazy... "ooh let's get the mundane authorities to do all the grunt work, I mean she's only a serial killer aligned with a dangerous liminal entity, how much of a threat can she be?"

    Don't worry I'm sure next time they'll claim to be HSA and you'll be 'renditioned' somewhere really unpleasant where they haven't even heard of the term "human rights".

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  3. I'll agree with you there Niles. Gotta love some good 'ole American waterboarding.

    ~Lucas

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  4. ...I don't see how you can complain of your treatment when you've done far worse to others. At least they didn't paralyze you, slowly dissect you, and pour acid in your gut.

    Or maybe you just skimmed over that part to spare our delicate sensibilities?

    I've never been too impressed with law enforcement on any level. So if I said I was surprised by their inability to hold on to you, I'd be lying. Hopefully whoever manages to pin you down next time won't waste time with niceties. There's no cure for a mad dog but death. It's the kindest fate to offer someone like you.

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  5. Niles, I must agree with you. Americans ARE rather lazy, especially when it comes to relatively simple things like using proper restraints. It's enough to make me wish I was back in Cardiff...but I'm afraid that's beside the point. Mystery, dear, every person has the right to complain about how they are treated. Speaking of which, I strongly object to you characterizing me as a "mad dog". I am not insane, nor am I an out-of-control psycho. Some day you will understand my reasoning and you'll see how wrong you've been. Ta ta, dears.

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  6. You better not fucking hurt Taben... I can only begin to imagine what you'll do to him when you tire of him. He might be far gone mentally but that doesn't change what I feel for him.

    Just let him go, you fucking bitch. He's put himself at even more risk because of you. Just please... don't hurt him...

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  7. Aiden, nice to see that the mouse has come out to play. I suggest that you not speak that way to the Mistress. It's not polite to use those words when referring to such an elegant and lady-like person.

    You should know as well, that I am comfortable and happy with whatever it is that she has planned for me. One way or another it is a complete honor to work for her and until the time she tires of me I will continue to be the best that I can.

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  8. My dear Surge, I have no idea who you are. I am not a "Fellow Traveller" of yours, especially not in the Communist sense.

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  9. yes.red blood,shiny knife.I can't wait to murder all the fucks in this place..uh oh,time for my next shot

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