Monday, 1 October 2012

A loss

I have been through a lot.
I have killed to survive.
I have killed for others.
I have killed for myself.

Tau came here.
Met us.
He looks ancient.
He is balding, weakened greatly.

It is like he is withering away since he left the office.

I have to help him stand.
I asked him why he sent the letters.
That was what West told me.

He knew.

Tau said "To get you to know you."

A killer. To get me to know a killer.

I asked him who was Jules.
But he would not answer.

Whilst I was asleep,
my duckling had gone off.
He was attempting to kill the highest.

He succeeded and he paid for it.
He paid for it with his life.

It is amusing.
Our plans are somewhat the same.
Only our outcomes will be so different.
They must.

I do not wish to die.
But serving the blur gives only one end.
I... It is getting less difficult.
I sometimes hear it said.

Normally it is garbled,
but if I listen hard.
Sometimes they say "Sle

West here, we were downstairs when Ember just screamed like a fucking howler monkey, went foetal on the bed and passed out. McKay can't explain it. We talk about... Upper Management in a different name and Ember suddenly looks distracted. Calls it a humming in his ear, like a fly bouncing around in your brain.

I don't think it is safe for Ember to use that name. Tau said it happened last time.

Gotta go, Tau's calling a meeting. I'm not giving numbers, but more come each day.

None of us want to kill any more. None of us want to place our partner's ashes with the thousands that lie there already.


  1. Wanting is one thing, actually ceasing to kill is another altogether. I wish you the best of luck, and hope in the end it works out, yet I have read and written enough stories to know the most likely outcome.

    1. Small victories.
      Your stories talk of them.
      I am sure.

  2. Hello West. How is your little rebellion fairing? Did you poor saps finally lose your Queen? How tragic.

    1. Tau is alive.
      I am alive.
      West is alive.
      We are all alive.

      We have lost no one.

      Unlike you.
      You backstabbing motherfucking son of a bitch.

    2. I don't think I could have said it any better or with more swearing myself. Ember I'm proud of you. :)

    3. Only your mother dear Ember. She was special. Had to dig her ass out of the ground.

      On a less gross note,
      Agent Brendan Fishler and Abby White won't be making it to your little cell party. They'e a bit tied up at the moment. They were dying to tell you themselves but you know how that is. Or atleast your mom does.

    4. Bullets,
      or at least the ones I use
      are too small for your full name.

      How does "F" sound?

    5. It works I guess... Feels so impersonal though. Does Frank fit?

    6. Knowing you.
      That is not your name.
      You just wish me to do it,
      so your not the target.


      It does not fit either.

    7. F T? How about F T for FracTure?

    8. Perhaps.
      Feels like more work though.
      Maybe FF for Fuck Fracture?

    9. You're so lazy! Where has the magic gone? I thought our hate was special. I guess I was just fooling myself all along.

    10. You are not worth it.
      The magic probably died with Duckie.
      At least now it is ended.
      You cannot fuck with him anymore.

      Also the insomnia thing...
      Was that you?

    11. What an insulting accusation. Of course not.