It has been another dark day as several more of our valuable corporate citizens have been murdered in a killing spree that begun several days ago, when serial killer and madman Angus Killian, returned to Withmore.
In a previous article, I mentioned how dangerous my job would be - but I had no idea until I followed a tip that led me into contact with notorious Black Tide terrorist, Nicadameus Fraiser, who returned to Withmore City shortly after the Clone Banks were destroyed. Surrounded by Frasier and his goons, I was told about the explosions, then handed over to a hooded companion, someone whose face I recognised as soon as it was revealed: Killian Rez. Angus.
CyanideGimp on the Grid - whatever name you want to call him.
He took his time with me. He slashed my skin apart, opening wound after wound. The irony wasn't lost on me as every beat of my heart, both sustained my life... and brought me closer to death. None were as painful as the moment that he took away my beauty. One of his gnarled hands wrapped around my throat while the other slid the sharp, cold blade into my eye socket until I was left with nothing but a gaping hole. Pump.. pump.. pump. Every rapid, terror-filled pulse pushed the last of my consciousness away.
I am only alive to bring you this story because of the brave vigilance of Field-medic Rejind who heard public discussion about the assault, investigated and relayed information to the authorities that recovered me. He was also the medic who administered the life-saving treatment that I required. I was lucky to have survived.
Unfortunately, the same could not be said for my fellow colleague, Litso Dimulya. I met Litso for the first time yesterday after being returned by the WJF to the protection of NLM Corporate Security. She was so very gentle and kind - and sympathetic after her own personal experience. You see, Litso was another one of Killian's helpless victims, murdered in cold blood after being lured into a stolen cab - CHEX vehicle C326 and she wasn't the only one.
This evening, Doctor Dace Railey from Westside Elective Clinic, became another victim. Dr Railey is someone much beloved by dear friends of mine - all of them good people who worked hard to earn their places in the Corporate world - who constantly strive to improve themselves and provide valuable contributions to society. While I barely know the woman myself, what I do know of her is that she is an innocent woman and she didn't deserve to die.
This believe was affirmed when a friend of Dr Railey attempted to call her after hearing about the abduction, This friend stayed on the line, enduring a conversation with the twisted tongue of a predator, relaying information in an attempt to save her live. Killian answered the phone and agreed to an exchange - my life for hers. A stupid thing to agree to, oui, but those who know me, know that I have a difficult time sitting idle in an apartment while innocent people are being murdered. Especially after the heinous crime he committed earlier that day.
When I woke up that morning, I'd been informed that Killian had been apprehended by Judges and was undergoing treatment for Degenerative Clone Disease (DCD) so that he could be incarcerated. Unfortunately, he managed to escape, but an anonymous tip revealed his location. In a valiant attempt to contain the madman before he could hurt any more civilians, Judge Janz followed Killian down into the mix, but was outnumbered, overpowered and tortured to death. He lied to me, with promises that the good Judge would be let go if I'd meet him at the Drome � something I foolishly considered until sources warned me that the Judge had already been murder. He told me the same lie, agreeing to releasing our innocent Doctor.
What I didn't know at the time though was that CHEX C326 wasn't the only stolen vehicle in operation. No, Killian had stole another taxi, C675 - the one he was telling me to get in. But he couldn't hold up his part of the deal because Dr Railey wasn't going to be released. Epoch Hendricks and Lana Aila murdered her in the back seat of cab C326 while he fled the scene. That's when the WJF stepped in, using a Locust Cargo AV to hoist up cab 326 - passengers and all - dropping it off in the brand new Sector Correctional Facility where Hendricks and Aila will now serve their time.
In just a few days, I've witnessed hero worship from confused and delusional mixers who believe that he is going to provide them with some kind of revolution, but you poor, confused souls couldn't be more wrong. Angus Killian is a madman. Literally, one of the most complicated cases of DCD. He's a broken record, doomed to repeat. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat.
The manipulations of Killian are indiscriminate. Sure, his current preference for chaos is to ignite the criminal mixer population into action against corporate citizens, but take it from someone who knew him in a past life - Angus Killian is a dangerous lunatic. He is encouraging the mixer population to rise up, inciting acts of violence that led to the recent, grievous attack at New Light Station.
Why? Because he was turned on, by another notorious criminal. Someone who ripped all the chrome from his body, without anaesthesia, in a shack in Bansuporu Park before being left for dead in the wastelands with nothing but a canteen full of piss. He has died so many times, that he can't even remember who he loves, or who he hates. So he hates us all. But this all happened because of.. you guessed it.. another forsaken criminal, Mark Grey. Ivan. D. Why do these criminals all have so many names? I'm starting to notice a pattern here. But anyway, most of you won't remember him, not unless you search the grid for old news. Killian didn't always used to be so bad - he was a decker, a good one too. But Grey pushed and pushed, killing everyone that Killian loved. All of his friends. That drove him to sell himself to the highest bidder and jack himself up with more chrome than anyone should really be able to survive. Those two fought so often.. that eventually, Killian ended up becoming exactly like the man that he hated so much.
And that's where we end up today. Remember my lesson, people. I'll repeat it, so it sinks in: The mix is a cesspool where filth breeds filth. It rots anyone that lingers too long, just like how it's rotted Killian's mind away. Don't make me write it again.
Until next time, our cherished readers, here's an exclusive peek inside the new Sector Correctional Facility:
[A photograph of SCF - Processing: This spacious room seems to get a lot of traffic, a trail of scuff marks clearly visible along the floor from the constant foot traffic of inmates and facility personnel alike. A watch desk sits a short distance away from the southern wall, allowing facility personnel to keep a careful eye on the procession of inmates in their distinct jumpsuits. Through the west, you can see the first row of the prison's isolation cubes awaiting their immediate residents. An iso-cube control kiosk is here set into the wall near the door, casting a soft glow. A framed poster titled 'WCS' on the wall finishes with the tagline 'Withmore depends on City Services'. Jericho is here, locked in the grasp of Lorraine Seabrook. Judge Hart is maintaining a vigil. Angus Muir is standing here. Dru Coetzee is sitting at the watch desk.]
Caption: The Processing Room - where criminals are sorted into their cells. Unfortunately, while given a tour of one, I am not permitted to share photos of secure areas with the public. I'm sure you can all appreciate why. Nonetheless, the cell that I saw was a simple room with all the basic amenities - one of the ones given to sleepers, who will now be carried into them by TERRA or WCS personnel instead of left at the coffins.
[A photograph of SCF - Visiting Area: This large, plain room is utilitarian and has so little in the way of decoration that anything without function stands out like a sore thumb. A concrete floor has been painted a shade of medium gray and covered with a thick layer of shining epoxy. A circular reception station stands in the center of the room made of translucent white polycarbonate with metal accents, its surfaces scratched and dinged up over time. On its counter is a single fake-looking plastic plant which could use a good dusting. Hideous pea green airport-style bench chairs have been lined all around the edges of the room with the seat-areas faded slightly, obviously host to many past visitors. The dingy white walls do little to remove the feeling of claustrophobia one might get in this windowless, near-featureless space. A sign over the eastern door states: 'ALL Visitors MUST Check In At Desk'. A black camera hangs from the wall watching the area. A framed poster titled 'SCF' on the wall finishes with the tagline 'The Sector Correctional Facility, a place for rehabilitation'. Dennis Harewood is patrolling the prison, beatboxing under his breath. Judge Hart is maintaining a vigil. The reception station is empty, in the middle of the room. The bench chairs are lined in neat rows along each wall.]
Caption: The Visiting Area, where the slow realisation that nobody cares enough to visit will slowly dawn upon you.
[A photograph of SCF - Cafeteria shows: A large, checkered tile room flooded by the artificial blue glow of the overhead fluorescent lighting. The drab beige walls are completely bare save for a notice board and a large framed T.E.R.R.A. recruitment poster. Agents in jumpsuits or plainclothes march through the serving line at the counter along the north wall, taking trays of food to the numerous long tables that take up most of the room. The meal counter is lined up along the north wall, condensated with the moisture of many steam trays. Pauline Chiu is fast at work behind the meal counter. Saul Pine is most certainly not passing out seconds. Judge Hart is maintaining a vigil. The southern cafeteria bench is vacant. The central cafeteria bench is vacant. The northern cafeteria bench is vacant.]
Caption: The Cafeteria, serving sloppy synthesized meat-foods to inmates.
(Edited by NewsDesk at 1:41 am on Dec. 7, 2102)