After reading the paper, I discovered the man I killed was none other than the son of one of my targets, Officer Amos Doles. The kid's name was Damian.
I could only imagine the pain on the unjust bastard's face right now. He had the nerve to mistreat me. I did not expect to kill those close to you, only you yourself, but that was quite the astounding coincidence.
I wish I could laugh in his face. I wish I could walk up to him, tell him every second of how poor Damian died. But no. I cannot do that. I cannot show my face. I am, in fact, wary of having this blog. It may attract police, and sometimes They talk directly to me, warn me of Others who share similar abilities to me. If Others should find my blog...
in any case, I feel absolutely no remorse for the kid of old Amos. If only Amos knew.
They were controlling me before I could control Them. Now I've been practicing. I am unable to maintain the power I would if, say, They took over my consciousness, and my hold on them is very weak, but now I have en even greater advantage against Amos. Amos and all the others who abused me, tortured me, sent me to solitary so the other prisoners couldn't hear my screams...
...oh yes. I believe that I might kill more people close to Officer Doles. It seems to make Them happy. And it sure as hell makes me happy.
-KORD
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