I apologize for the delay in updates, my dears. I’ve been rather busy. I’ll start from the top, shall I?
After we last saw each other, He summoned me. How this happens is hard to describe. I can only say that I felt an urge to go to a particular place at a particular time and wait. He took me, and he…well, he showed me what was being done to the woman who was once KK. It…sickened me. I somehow knew that this was a threat, that He knew of my wavering loyalties and wanted me to know what awaited me should I fall. I saw the post on her blog, dears. Believe me when I say she was massively underplaying the things she experienced. When I returned to my brownstone, I was…dazed. Dizzy. I felt as if I’d been beaten bloody and then discarded. I slumped in an armchair I happen to be fond of, staring out the window. There were people out on the streets, dears. Smiling, laughing, talking with each other as they ran errands. A whole neighborhood, city, WORLD of people ignorant of Him and His servants. What was it like to be one of them? It’d been so long since I WAS one that I couldn’t remember what it truly felt like. What was it like to be genuinely happy? To not feel a need to murder and torture to achieve one’s goals? I could see right then how something as simple as a trip to the grocery store could be far more enjoyable than anything in my current grocery store. I know it seems naïve, dears, but I thought it all the same.
It was then that I decided to leave.
That moment, staring out at the ordinary people enjoying the sunlight, is when I truly left the “Andromeda” persona behind for good. I could no longer be that person. Everything within me cried out against it. In one way, perhaps, I had fallen…but in a far more important way I was rising from my own ashes. I stood, quickly gathering a few of my things from my office (including my portable computer). I went upstairs, retrieving clothing and weapons from my bedroom. As I was doing so, Morgan came in. He wanted to know what I was doing. I found it…surprisingly difficult to keep a straight face as I lied to him. He’s so earnest, so naïve despite the visible evil in him. It was endearing and repulsive at the same time. I told him that “Father” was sending me to take care of some unfinished business, and that I’d be back in a week or two. By now, he knows I’m not coming back. In any case, I left, taking the Mazda Miata I bought after trading in the stolen Mustang. My trip across the East Coast was mostly uneventful, so I won’t bore you with details. I retrieved Derek (who has communicated to me that he wishes to be called “Freeman” from now on) from the house I’d stashed him in, and the two of us began searching for a new residence. We eventually settled on an isolated house in a small Maine coastal town. It’s a lovely single-level home, two bedrooms, sitting on a large patch of land with a few trees. The land is at the edge of a cliff, a steep drop leading to a rocky beach below. There’s a small path down the cliff, and a dock at the bottom.
We have spent the last week establishing ourselves in the nearby community, buying supplies and hardening the house against any attack or intrusion. Freeman is claiming to be my son when we interact with townfolk, though that may change. I’ve also ordered weaponry and survival supplies of various types from some of my old suppliers. I have somehow retained my abilities despite the discarding of the persona accompanying them, so I have been working on expanding the basement of the house. I aim to turn it into an extensive bunker/refuge for myself, Freeman, and anyone who wishes to take advantage of our hospitality. Yes, I said anyone. I am officially declaring myself neutral, dears. Proxies and Runners/Fighters are welcome on my property, so long as everyone is civil and there are no altercations or threats. I may not always be here. but my home is always open to all of you.
And please, dears. Call me Constance from now on.