Wednesday, 26 October 2011


I have been training harder,
getting stronger,
getting faster.

I am learning to do my job.
Salome takes me out more often.
I have been learning to act.

She has me learning to dance.
Learning to flirt.
Learning things that can be useful to me.

I am getting better at people things.
I wasn't good with it before.
It distracted me.

She tells me I am better prepared
than I was back then.
I don't understand.

She does.

I ask her.

She smiles and tells me not to think too hard.

So I don't.

I still don't.

I keep training.

Salome keeps talking of a test.
A task I must do.
I will succeed.

I do not wish to die.

Tuesday, 18 October 2011

I saw this and thought of you.

Everyone's gone
I'll stay alone
But I don't mind
I made a new friend today
I can hear his voice in my head
It feels like he became a part of myself

He will call his ugly army
And they will kick the sinners out of my way
I'm so happy
But don't worry
No I don't wanna take my medics today

They won't give up
They won't break down
They're made of steel
They won't give up
They won't break down
My army's made of steel

Can't you see
This smile on my face
I find that funny
Whatever you might say
He's still living inside of me
And I don't want him to get out anyway

He will call his ugly army
And they will kick the sinners out of my way
I'm so angry
But don't worry
No I don't wanna take my medics today

They won't give up
They won't break down
They're made of steel
They won't give up
They won't break down
My army's made of steel

They won't give up
They won't break down
They're made of steel
They won't give up
They won't break down
My army's made of steel

He will call his ugly army
And they will kick the sinners out of my way
I'm so happy
But don't worry
No I don't wanna take my medics today

They won't give up
They won't break down
They're made of steel
They won't give up
They won't break down
My army's made of steel

They won't give up
They won't break down
They're made of steel
They won't give up
They won't break down
My army's made of steel

Felix Felidae

Saturday, 15 October 2011

A return and a revelation.

She's back.
I woke up today to see her sleeping.
She must have returned late last night.
I got up and let her sleep.

She's different when she sleeps.
Although she would kill me if she knew I'd said that.

When she awoke I asked her what happened.
She looked at me coldly and just got some food.
"He fought, I didn't expect him to be so well trained."

A smile formed on my lips. "And then what?"
She shrugged. "Then he got away, I tracked him back to his home."

"And you got the documents?"
She looked at me like I was stupid.

"You do not realise what you're being trained to do."

It was a fact.

I paused for a moment... I was thinking whilst she studied me.

As I realised what was happening, she smiled wide. This was the first time she'd actually smiled.
"I'm a killer, an assassin, whatever you want to call me."
I paused for a moment, something deep inside of me felt sick.

"You killed him?"

She nodded and I couldn't control myself. I just swung at her.
It was a reckless punch, and she caught it in her hand.
She twisted my arm around my back pushing me face first into the wall.
My nose broke from the sheer force.

I cried as she hissed into my ear. "So are you."
She pulled me away and shoved me into the wall again.
I slid down the brick, my back was grazed.
I heard the click of a gun cocking.

I was staring into the darkness of the barrel of her gun.

My mind was racing, processing it all.

  • H&K P30, .40 rounds, with a 13 magazine that is in the weapon, treat as loaded. 
  • Owner is older than you, stronger than you, better than you. 
  • You have the lower ground also pain slows you down.

Summary: Give up. You are dead.

"I told you, a bullet is the only way out for you. Either you get shot now and die...
or you might live if you serve Mother correctly."
"Mother?" I was crying, I felt the cold barrel of the gun press against my forehead and I panicked.
I closed my eyes tight. I hated myself, I still do.
"Five seconds." She said. "Five."

Oshitoshitoshit what am I gonna do? She's got a gun.


Why me, please god no, not now not now not now.


Oh god she's squeezing the trigger, I can't die not now not after all that's happened.


Don't die. Just say you will do this. You can do this. You can.


I could hardly breathe.

"I'll serve."

The gun lowered and she held a hand out to me.

I heard her speak, but I don't know what she said. I pushed her hand away and just ran to the window. It was open a crack and I needed the air. The fresh air.

It feels so good to be alive. Even though I have agreed to something terrible.

Does that make me a terrible person?

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

No sign of Salome

I have not seen Salome at all since that time at the Cafe.
It has been a day and I am starting to worry a little bit.
I have been training though.
I have kept to the same routine as I have since I arrived here.

I get up.
I run.
I eat.
I shoot.

I can't fight without a partner.
I eat.
I run some more.
I shoot some more.

My hands are trembling from the
jerking of the gun  in my fingers.
Salome calls it recoil.
I may take a day off tomorrow.
I might just to rest my hands.

I eat dinner.
Then I spend the rest of the evening cleaning.
Myself and the equipment I have used since this morning.
It's then that I notice another letter.

I debate tearing it up.
Something draws me to it.
Something makes me feel like I need to read it.

So I do.

And then I show everyone else what it said.

It's nonsense to me, as if I am receiving only a single part of the conversation.

It is dated October 28th 1887.

"Dear Detective Charnier.

I recieved your letter yesterday, and I must say I am concerned. Mother told me to keep you in the loop, and as such I must explain to you that you are to follow up on this Father of yours, and that I am simply to forward the correspondances without viewing.

I am uncertain as to why mother does not trust me with what you may find, but it is important that you do this task to the best of your abilities.

I have my own work to perform, finally something other than handling agents like yourself. Something that better utilises my capabilities. I shall be gone for one week, communication shall cease and any letters you send shall be forwarded as soon as possible.

You are on your own.

Also Jules.

I was told to notify you that our relationship is unsanctioned and as such our communication must remain fully professional. Do not fight it. There is no point. This comes from Mother's own hand.

It is difficult to say but I believe it is for the best. I am sorry.


Ember Fay""


So they were involved with each other.

It sounds a little bit sad really.

And now I fall asleep.

Monday, 10 October 2011

A different place.

Salome took me out today.
It was a different thing to my usual training.
I was with her, I wasn't scared like back home.
The first thing she told me was to act naturally.

It was then that I saw them.

The noise overwhelmed me.
We walked into a city center.
We sat down together.

We drank coffee together in a shop.
A cafe.
She said "Tell me who that man in the corner is."
I didn't know.

She was referring to a businessman,
he was on a phone.
Deep in conversation.

Glasses rested on his nose and he was staring at papers.
They looked official.
Deep in conversation.

I was distracted.
Too much noise.
The sound of the coffee machine.
The sound of talking.

It had been so long since I'd heard talking.
I forgot what it sounded like.

I said. "A businessman, negotiating a deal?"
She smiled a little and shook her head.
"Look closer."
I looked again, just glancing.

Noise just fades away.

I saw a red mark on his ring finger, but no ring.
He's middle aged, he seemed withdrawn.
A broken man.
I felt a relation to it.

"He is divorcing. The papers are the ones he's been served with."
She smiled. "Almost correct. His ex wife is suing him. He is in a conversation with his lawyer."
"I saw the papers when I was getting the coffee." She leaned back in her seat.
I frowned. "Why did you tell me this?"

She smirked. "Because you now know how he will react when you see what I do."
I stopped for a moment and just looked at her. "What?"
The man stands up, tidying away the papers into his briefcase and looking over his shoulder at us.

"When I pull a gun upon him." She smiled.

There was something predatory in her gaze.

"Go back to the office. I shall meet you there."

I do as I am ordered.

He looked like the kind of man to use shortcuts.
Alleyways that allowed him to cut off a couple of minutes with work.
If she pulled a gun on him, he would panic.
Freeze up.
He would offer her money.
He would then run.

I am in the office again,
I don't know what to think.
Are the papers that important that she would draw a weapon on him?

I don't know.
But the city was a welcome break from training.

I am writing this up and then I am doing more shooting.
I always need to do more shooting.
I need to get better.
I don't want to die.

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

It's a hit.

I did it.
I landed a hit in training today.
She was sparring with me,
she had a knife.

She lunged at me.
I twisted my body and the knife missed me.
It got caught in my top.
I brought my knee up and hit her arm with it.

Then the knife came free.
She jabbed me in the nose
I then felt so much pain in my shoulder.

I fell back and the knife came with me.
I was bleeding.
It hurt so bad.
I cried a lot.

When she cut me,
I cried a little.
But this hurt so much more.

She just told me to shut up and deal with it.
She doesn't show emotion unless it suits her.
I ran back off into the makeshift bedroom.
She did not follow me.

She's an actor.
She says I need to be able to take pain like that.
She says that otherwise I won't be able to do my job.

I ask what I am to be.

She does not answer.

I am tired.

Everything hurts.

Perhaps the bullet will bring an end to it.

I am not cut out for this, she must be mistaking me for someone else.

Monday, 3 October 2011

A new letter.

I wake up this morning.
I find something resting upon my chest.
Another brown envelope.

Once again, as soon as I pick it up.
The envelope falls apart.
I type it up during my break and post it.

I do the rest of my training.
I ask Salome about the letters.

She shouts at me,
She tells me to never read these.
I don't understand why.
She says I don't need to.

I post it here
I typed it up before I asked.
I had a feeling that I would need to.
I show whoever is watching me, what it said:

October 20th, 1887

As always Mother, here is the message from Jules. If you have tasks for me to fulfil, I would do them gladly.

Dear Ember Fay

I hope that you are well this October day. In London, it is icy, the streets are slippery and the air has a bite that is difficult to describe. It makes me wish for warmer times, the mild winters of my beloved Marseilles in the orphanage, along with a few more blankets, perhaps someone to keep warm with.

Of course, onto the main part of the letter.

I encountered the most curious of things the other day. There was an attempted burgulary upon a residence in Cobb Street. Given reports of such things happening to other people. I was assigned to investigate. Of course, I interviewed the young woman who discovered him. She was a local Street Worker who went by the name of "Fairy Fay." It seems like you are not the only one using a new name.

She was... Applying her trade, when she saw a man at the foot of her bed. When he was spotted he escaped through the window. She said he wore a face like that of an ungodly creature on a mask. She called him Springheeled Jack.

Yes, you could laugh at such a childish fantasy, but it does not explain the fact that this is the second of such cases in as many months.

It may also interest you to know that in this occasion, he fell three storeys.

We spent the next week, interviewing doctors and pharmacists, the coroner assures me that such a fall would cause injuries that would make walking near impossible. And to our surprise, we discovered someone, someone who matched the description of the attacker and the injuries.

Upon interview, he was clearly of ill humour. I enclose a transcript of the interview. If I am to take this lunatic seriously, I would like to start researching “Father” post-haste.

I await your orders, and your return.

Jules Chernier.

[Interview of Mr. John Smith starts: 19:32 PM 20th October 1887 Interviewers Special Detective Jules Chernier and Detective Wilfred Drake]

C- So. Mr Smith.
S- Yes Detective?
C- How did you receive such a dreadful wound to your foot? Does it not hurt?
S- I landed fell out of b [screaming] please help me. Stop! It hurts!
C- Stop what? Did you see anything Detective?
D- Not at all. He just started scremaing.
C- How curious, such a thing could send a man to Bedlam. Do you not agree?
D- I would agree to that, Mr Chernier, he would be a good subject don't you think? You know they test on people, don't you?
C- Possibly, although he'd have to answer our questions if he didn't want to.
S- Please no. Not you Father. Not you. You made me do it before, I'll be good I'll be good. [Screaming]
C- Well, tell me about this Father.
S- He made me do it, he made me do it all, he hurts he kills he's evil. I don't want to do it, he watches me, over and over and over and over.
C- So you admit to being in Fairy Fay's home on the night?
S- I had to be, he made me.
D- He?
S- Father.
D- Who is Father?
S- [Laughter] Want to know? Come closer.
D- [Screaming] My ear, you tore off my ear.
S- [Laughter] It looked like it tasted nice. Father likes it when people taste nice.
C- Of course... Get to a hospital Detective Drake. Mr Smith, I am hereby formally charging you with attempted murder, attempted burgulary, and resisting arrest.
S- But I'm not resisting arrest [Screaming]
C- Yes you are, Mon Ami. Interview over.
[Interview end at 19:42] "

I don't think about it.
Salome tells me not to think. 
Occasionally I am scared she will shoot me 
if I don't do what she says.