The world is dark. That’s pretty curious, given that I know most of the time the world is red, with a hint of gunfire.Why is the world dark? What time is it? Where am I? hang on… Let me rephrase that, why am I asking questions to begin with? My eyes are closed. This could be causing the darkness. Perhaps I should open them. Jesus Christ, or perhaps I should not have. Why is there half an arm sticking out of the wall. This is certainly novel, though not entirely without precedent. Either my mind is playing a rather sick traumatic trip on me which I have to say wouldn’t be the first time or I may have inadvertently been on some kind of, what appears to be, massacre spree except I have forgotten it which pisses me off, because I like to file and index all my incidents of mass carnage and compose music videos with them in my spare time. What’s that? Oh, right, I don’t really have a lot of spare time between the killing and the finding out what the hell I actually am.
Oh well, that’s why I usually play music while embedding SPGs in someones torso I guess. Girl’s gotta compensate.
Situation analysis. Unless these windows are high-def optimised screenlays, I am still in the bad part of town and they’re not, I’d pick up on them immediately. No one ever told them their low UV range is completely off. So, I am probably not far from Gen’s place. Time for a little body count 7 and change in assorted bits Now if I can find one of the bits that has some ID on it… legs… legs… I need legs. Well, technically pockets, but legs are the most likely to still have those, given that a torso doesn’t seem to like staying intact after an encounter with an SPG round. Good sound when they pop though, I could listen that all day. I don’t considering it a sick streak so much as going with what you love. Potential ID found. Let’s have a look see after cleaning off a bit of what appears to be lower digestive tract. Funny.
I know this name.
Something is wrong. I know these names. I know these names very well. This is a CD op I used to work with. I need moore IDs.
Sweet candy coated love-child of Mary Magdalene…
I know all these names. These are all ops from my own organisation. I am being hunted. I guess that means they found out already. That’s quick. Too quick. Paranoia moment taking over…It shouldn’t have taken them this quick to figure out what I did. How do they know? Either I’ve been tracked, or one of my coops talked I knew I should have killed them just to be sure. Fuck, what time is it? What day is it? Clock.. clock… computer. Better than a clock. The one good thing about blood is that it usually isn’t runny enough to get into circuitry. Lifetime of experience there. Hmm, I appear to have lost more than a day.
More than a day…