Scouting Officer Doles Part 1

• 9:15 A.M. Arrive at the Police Precinct with an ironed policeman's uniform and cup of coffee.
• 9:45 A.M. Run through heavy physical training.
• 10:20 A.M. Depends greatly. At this point between 10:20 and at least 1:45, either Officer Doles is either at a desk in the Precinct or tasked with an assignment.
• 2:15 P.M. Coffee break
• 4:05 P.M. Run security for the Precinct itself
• 6:00 P.M. Start to head home to remaining family
• 7:05 P.M. The pastor has shown up around this time for the past three days. From what I can tell, funeral arrangements are being made. His wife is in tears. He himself is extremely depressed.
• 11:17 P.M. The usual time Officer Doles goes to sleep.

This is his general schedule. I have been doing investigations and reconnaissance for the past five days. I will try to pick apart his routine- how he acts- how he thinks.

Ever play Assassin's Creed? I'll try to play it like that. Only it's not a game. Well... it still is, to me. But I know it's a real human life. I shall dispose of him anyways for what he began.

I'll continue scouting tomorrow.

-KORD

Damian Doles

It turns out that "innocent" man I talked about wasn't so innocent after all.

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

Innocent

They were hungry. I had to feed them. So instead of targeting one of those who wronged me, I had to harm an innocent man. Innocent. What a word. How was that man innocent? The man had wronged me as much as all others. He was a part of the system that shackled me for what people must have known as accidents. No.

They called me a terrorist for one mistake, one slip of the mind, one time I let Them take over. They must have known that it was not my fault. It was Their fault. No. Society could not handle such an idea, and so they locked me in a prison for eight months.

But this man. This man didn't wrong me in particular. No. He is apathetic to me. In being uncaring to me, he may be even a worse offender than those who openly harmed me and attacked me.

After a mental war similar to what I said above, I stalked him intently. I tried to get his habits, his moves. I probably could have killed him as easily as a man could kill a fly. I needed a place free of civilians or place the man in such a situation that nobody would suspect me of committing foul play.

I soon found my chance when the man was waiting on an intersection to cross the street. The light blared a red hand. They willed the man's eyes to see the red hand change to the green lights of a walking figure. He began to pace across the street before that pickup truck came.

The carnage was instantaneous and bloody. The man exploded in half, his innards draping themselves around the driver. The driver swerved. He swerved right into a nearby apartment building.

The more carnage I saw, the more I felt Them grow slowly more and more satisfied. By the time questioning was done (They willed my face to be unrecognizable to the police) it was nearly 5:00. So I decided to head to a nearby McDonalds, take whatever greasy, artery-clogging foodstuffs they threw at me, and head to my hotel.

After all, I can always wait one more day.

-KORD

Free At Last

Goddamn it feels good to get back into the free world again. It took me eight months in a state prison, but I'm finally free. And trust me- this time, I ain't going back. Ever again.

This is how I did it. The police officer who was driving me to the Courthouse for my hearing relied intently on his GPS. Then They did their magic. I don't enjoy relying on them unless it's absolutely necessary, and, with a possible death sentence, I found that specific time to be the right time. They told him things, consuming the voice of the GPS and jumping in like a changeling.

Turn left

Then right

Straight .3 miles

Then turn into a goddamn wall.

I think I'm forgetting something. Something... I don't know, expository. Oh, right. My name. Kord. That's all you need to know about me. And Them. For those who want to read this, it's going to be a wild ride and you're going to follow good old Kord on a nice little avenue I like to call revenge.

They shall help me.

I will accept Their offer.

-KORD