The Last Dynasty

The story of the man who successfully gained dominion over the entire world told from different perspectives.

Part I

Describe it? That's the problem, people just dont get it. How can you describe something that most people find unimaginable in even their wildest dreams. Everyday is worst than the day before. My body is constantly screaming out in pain and there is no relief, nor is there any hope that it will simply fade away. Every night i hear the screams, the howling voices begging for death just to escape the hell that is this place. One would expect to hear the sound of grown men sobbing along with the screams but how can they cry when they're that dehydrated, that beat down and their spirits that broken. Everyday more and more men die from starvation, dehydration and a condition that remains a mystery to everyone except for those who are forced to endure this place: a broken spirit. Death isnt an alternative to perseverance in this place, not here, its an inevitability. Whether its someone in the general population, the guards, thirst, starvation or suicide, the men stuck here have no hope of any sort of a peaceful death. I've been here for only eight years and I'm already the longest tenured resident of this place. There's no way i should've lasted even this long but i did; there's no way i should've kept my sanity for this long and there's no way that i should've been able to keep up any level of intelligent thought after such a long time in this place but i did all three. Though, i only did so because of one unique trait that separates me from all other mongrels that are locked up in here with me: my eyes. Whatever those b******s did to me that's causing me constant pain also had an unforeseen side effect that i know they never saw coming. My eyes will allow me to escape; my eyes will allow me to liberate all those who are imprisoned here and my eyes will allow me to do all of this quickly, quietly and without the assistance of anyone else. Ever since i discovered what my eyes can do, I've been planning my escape learning the extent of my new found powers and I'll use what I've learned to escape. Soon, very soon, I'll be able to once again take in the fresh air, feel the breeze against my skin and see the sun shining. I will be free. I need to be free. 

Part II

As i lay here I continually find myself remembering the strangest most mundane things, things that I now realize I took for granted. Of course I miss my wife, my children and my friends, but i also miss going to that little coffee shop across from my house. I miss hearing the stories of the old man who visited that same coffee shop as often as i did. His stories always made me think, they made me smile. I also miss being easily woken up and taking a piss but that's just a personal preference to having to struggle to move my body all the time. I hate being reminded that my body is breaking down from the inside out, its depressing, not only because I'm dying but because I've done a lot of things that I'm just not proud of. Those "not so proud" moments seem to creep up into my thoughts every time I struggle to get back into my hospital bed. Its tragically funny really, I can remember the s**t that doesn't matter, the inhuman hard work, the beatings, the rape, the killing, so much of the killing, and all I want to think about is the time I spent as a free man, my wife and my children. I guess I don't think about them so much when they're not here because they're always here crying, laughing, talking and remembering with me. Remembering the time we spent together and telling me what they're gonna miss about me, telling me what a good man I've always been. But again, I just can't stop thinking about the drop of evil committed on that day and every time I think about that day I think of him. I never saw him again after that day, I wonder if he was caught or if he just disappeared and tried to live a normal care-free life. It's such a beautiful day outside, I an feel the sun's warmth on my skin, my face mostly, I think I'll bask in its warmth and take a nice nap. "Damn you got old." I hear someone talking but i must just be dreaming. "You gained a little weight too." There's no way I'm dreaming someone's here in the room and actually, I recognize that voice it sounds like him but there's no way its him. "Come on old man, wake up." It was him. I couldn't believe it. Hell, I wouldn't believe it if he wasn't standing right here in front of me. "Why do you look so surprised?" He said it in a obviously sarcastic manner but in all reality I never thought I would see him again after that day, in all reality he should probably be dead and that's what i told him, that was my response, "I never thought I would see you again." "And why not?" he asked "You really thought that I would set my self free then die in some prison? I don't think so." I was shocked, I guess whoever was responsible for catching him got a promotion. As I was experiencing this over whelming sense of shock, a wave of guilt came over me because this boy (now a man) saw me as a father figure, I know he did, I should've known where they locked him up, or at least that he was in prison, I owed him at least that much. "Where'd they put you?" A small smirk appeared on his face when I asked him "The only place they send people who've committed crimes as horrible as ours. You know the exact place I'm talking about, I can see it by the look of horror on your face." He was right, I knew exactly what prison he was talking about and I was shocked because people don't usually leave that particular facility alive, he should be dead, he should've been dead a long time ago. "I'm sorry." Its the only thing I could say, I felt so bad for not coming to see him, for assuming that he had gotten the fairy tale ending that the rest of us got, guilty as anyone could be. "Don"t start crying now we're supposed to be happy." I thought he was messing with me again but I touched the right side of my face and felt the tears that had been slowly and steadily pouring from my eyes for I don't know how long, I guess I couldn't contain my guilt. "Stop crying, stop right now because you have nothing to regret old man. You're the kindest, most honorable person I've ever come across, if I was less stubborn I would've had the honor of becoming half the man that you are. If anyone should be crying it should be me, because I tried all throughout my youth to resist you when I should've been striving to be just like you." His words were the most touching I had heard the entire time I've been sick "So, Thomas Clayborn?" He said the name I had chosen in a way that would've offended someone who didn't know him as well I do, he was being judgmental, yet silly at the same time. "I always thought you would choose something french, or at least something more exotic than Thomas." For some reason it made me laugh "And what about you, huh?" "What about me...Thomas." He started to laugh, the sound of which brought up some of the fondest memories that I have, the birth of my children, my wedding day and teaching a certain feisty child how to read. "My name is Dante, Dante Gattarack." "Gattarack?" "I made him tell me Thomas, right before I did it, while he was crying on his knees begging me not to kill him and I told him I wouldn't, if he told me." He was being ambiguous on purpose, I know because he's never ambiguous, he's the type of person who would tell anybody anything in the bluntest way possible. He was being ambiguous because he didn't want to be over heard by anyone walking past or into my room, and because he knew he didn't have to give me any details; I knew exactly what he was talking about. It was both worst day of my life and the best day of my life, it was the day that i became a free man, but the cost of my freedom was the staining of my soul with the blood of the family that owned, that held our freedom. I remember blood, so much blood that I couldn't even see the original colors of the walls, to this day I still cant remember the original color of those walls. I'm starting to fall asleep thanks to all the pain killers they're pumping into me, every three hours like clockwork. As my eyes start to flutter and i begin falling asleep I see Jayden get up and walk to the door without saying a single word. While standing in the doorway I'm reminded again of the day I gained my freedom because after walking down that hallway and seeing the walls covered with blood, as I walked towards our owners bedroom I saw Jayden standing there, the same way he stood in the doorway of my hospital room. There was blood splattered all over him, his hair was soaked in blood and sweat, he was standing over the owner's body. While standing in the doorway of my hospital room, Jayden turned around and said something to me, he said something that he never would've said had he known I was awake "You are the greatest man that I will ever know, I will never forget you, ever." As I heard the sound of Jayden's footsteps becoming more and more quiet I recalled the last time I had seen his face before today, the day I gained my freedom, as I walked into my owners bedroom, as I stared at him staring our owner's body, he turned around and I saw his face. Jayden's face was covered in blood and he was smiling, it scares me to think that at that exact moment, Dante Gattarack (as he will forever be known from now on) was as happy as he'd ever been in his life.

Part III

When i first heard him speak 50 years ago i thought he was crazy, I never thought he would actually realize his goal. I mean who would think that a guy who wanted to conquer the world would actually do it. For years he had been at work "unifying" the entire continent of Africa but when i saw him in South Africa (or what was once known as South Africa) speaking to a crowd of people about marching to Europe and "uniting" our two great continents together, everyone in the crowd was enamored with him. They were mesmerized by what he was saying. The way they were looking at him was something that i had never seen before. The way the people in the crowd were looking at him as he spoke was awe inspiring, he was like a prophet to those people, a savior really. Though there was something about the way he spoke that made him different from all the Adolf Hitlers, Mussolini's and every other crazy b******s that wanted to conquer the world before him, he wasn't talking as someone who wanted more power than they had already. The way he spoke was all too familiar; he sounded like a desperate man who had nothing and not just that, he spoke in the most informal way I had ever heard and even at that point I heard more than my fair share of generals speak and he was different. The words he was using, "f**k", "s**t", "d****t", I knew that he had no formal military training. That's the thing that racked through my brain as I heard him speak of conquest and peace like they were related at all. He sounded like the worlds most intelligent mad man, preaching to a group of people who had somehow been looped into his insanity. It almost made me feel bad that i had to kill him, he was such a unique and polarizing figure that i was incredibly curious about where all of his ambition and his seemingly enormous ego would take him. Then again, I was there to kill him and there was nothing I could do about it. I knew the easiest way to do it was get him while he was alone, it was gonna be quick and quiet, the way it had to be with a man of his stature. I knew he had an office or at least some place where he could be alone and gather his thoughts, I knew a man as powerful as him would have to have somewhere he could go to be alone. No one can deal with the stress of being a leader (especially of a countrty) everyday all the time without losing their damn minds and that theory of mine held true with this crazy b*****d. I was following him for about three hours before I saw him make his way to what could've only been described as his palace. I chose to wait until about 1:30 in the morning before I decided to make my way into his "palace" and attempt to end his life and collect a very large sum of money. An amount of money large enough to allow me to live my life comfortably and privately, enough money that I wont ever have to work for anyone ever again. It was so quiet in his estate, it struck me as odd that someone who had stirred up so much noise around the world slept in a estate so large and so quiet that it felt like a museum more than a home. As i made my way to what I knew was bedroom, i felt as if i was walking through a museum dedicated to his conquests. I saw the South African flag charred and tattered, a helmet with a knife embedded in it and the letters "DRC" spray painted on the side, most likely spray painted there by some grunt who was unlucky enough to come across the unstoppable force that is the will of the man that i was there to kill. As i approached the door of his bedroom my heart began to beat faster, my breath became shorter and my palms became sweaty, but i didn't know whether it was excitement, anxiety or simply fear that was causing it. The door to his bedroom was slightly cracked open and as i placed hand on the door and slowly pushed it open. I got a bad feeling; I sheathed the hunting knife i had brought with me to kill him. Just as i stepped into his room, I saw a woman sleeping where i thought the man would be. The level of confusion was indescribable, i had done so much planning, i had watched him for days and i knew there was no doubt that, that son of a b***h should've been in that bed at that time on that day. The sense of shock that came over me when i felt the tip of a blade digging into my back and the edge of another on my throat was nothing in comparison to when i heard him speak "Was it the U.N.?" There was no conceivable way that he should've taken me by surprise but he did, he should've been asleep in his damn bed and i should've killed him, i just kept thinking to myself over and over again "Dante Gattarack should be dead." Then, i heard him speak again and the only thing i can remember him saying is "What do you know? What did they tell you?" I didn't say anything, i just kept starring at his bed and wondering where the woman i saw earlier went. Dante pressed the knifes deeper into my skin "STOP! Please, just please don't do it!" I yelled in desperation because i knew he would kill me, because even though he is a leader, a savior and a hero to the African people, and viewed as the most righteous of rebels to the majority of the eastern world, he was still a general, a soldier, an incredibly violent individual. He struck me in the back of my head so hard i felt like someone hit me with a baseball bat and i fell to the ground, but before i had a to even think about how much pain i was in he flipped me over onto my back, put his hand around my neck and began squeezing. As he was choking me to death, as my vision began to blur and i felt the crushing feelings of anger, sadness, fear and betrayal he spoke to me in what can only described as an angry growl "You want me to stop? You sneak your way into my home and you want me to let you go, let alone live? F**k you! People don't sneak around in the dark, rats sneak around in the dark. That's exactly what you are, a rat carrying your filth into my land..." After that i began to black out and couldn't really understand but then i said something, not something that i thought would stop him from killing me but something i thought he should know before he killed me "Nothing personal" were the words that gargled out of my mouth. Then almost something surprising happened, i felt his grip loosen, he could've killed me, he knew that and he and i both knew that he wouldn't have a problem doing so, but he didn't. Instead, he helped me up and sat me down on one of the stools that was part of his part of the bar that i had to failed to notice was in his bedroom while i was doing surveying his "palace". He poured a drink for me then took a quick sip directly from the bottle "You are not that loyal, are you?" He asked sarcastically but i answered him in the deepest most serious voice i could muster after recently being choked and said "I'm only loyal to people who are loyal to me...Dante." "You know this old guy once said something, in fact he used to say it to me all the time when i was younger but i was too stupid back then to understand what he meant when he said it. But a couple years ago, a few years ago...s**t, a hell of a lot of years ago, i found myself with all the time in the world to think about what he meant. He used to say that the only real truth is the truth we give, not admit, which after years of doing nothing of thinking i took to mean that admitting something is just something you do when you've cracked under the pressure. But when you give the truth, your are deciding to be honest not because of pressure but because you think it's right. That's what you did." To this day I'm not sure why i said "nothing personal", I've always assumed he was right, even though at the time i didn't admit it i completely agreed with him but I've never been absolutely sure of why i said what i said. Dante went on to say how he knew that i had been following him and that he had figured i was hired based on how careful, discreet and patient i was being. Though at the time i could've told any number of lies and he would've believed me. I could've told him that i was working with a rebel group, there was no doubt he probably would've believed it but i just couldn't bring myself to do anything but admit to him that i was sent to kill him, but by whom i didn't know. When i admitted this to him, he giggled and said "shouldn't you know who your killing for?" I giggled back at him and said "as long as i see the money in my accounts, I'll do whatever's asked of me. So to answer your question, no, people like me shouldn't care who they're working for because in all honestly Sir Dante, people like me don't care who they're working for as long as they're getting paid." He could tell that i was being as sarcastic as i could when i called him "Sir Dante", i could tell because the small smirk he had while we were talking quickly turned into a serious scowl. There was an awkward silence that filled the room and then Dante said to me "I never got your name." At that point the entire tone of the conversation had turned from facetious to incredibly tense. So knowing that this man whom i knew could kill me at any moment if he wanted to was no longer playing around, i gave him a straight answer "Tre." He nodded his head and repeated my name, then he asked "What do you think of what I'm trying to do, Tre?" I gave him an honest answer "Well i'd hate to answer your question with a question but, what is it that your trying to do, Dante?" I was nervous as to what his answer was going to be and i was still on the fence as to whether this guy was completely insane with a god complex or someone who was simply unorthodox who was aiming for an ideal. "Everyone thinks that i want to just conquer everything, but that isn't it. Politicians in the west think i'm just a softer Adolf Hitler, just some insane warlord who hates the western way of life, politicians in the east think I'm just a racist from the west who hates the eastern way of life. Both sides are mostly wrong, Tre; mostly, because I do hate both of their ways of life, I hate the way the world is now, Tre." As i was listening to him i became confused by what he was saying because before he came along the world had been in peace for the past 20 years. For 20 years there hadn't been a single war, there hadn't been a single conflict, there hadn't been a single international incident and the only thing that was a threat to that peace was right in front of me telling me he hated the world the way it was. So i interrupted him "What do you mean you hate it? I don't wanna be rude, but the world is in the midst of a pretty damn good period of peace right now and the only thing that's really threatening that is you. So what could you possibly hate about the world the way it is?" It was at this point in our conversation that i was leaning towards the "this guy is totally f*****g insane" side of the fence. "I hate the world the way it is because what you call peace is just a temporary cease fire. S**t, in a month or two somebody from country "A" could accidentally park a tank, leave a submarine or pick their damn nose too close to country "B" and poof, war, international incident, conflict, whatever you wanna call it two countries now wanna fight it out for some completely pointless reason. This happens because of the worst invention in human history: borders. Borders are the worst invention in human history, Tre, and i want to destroy them all." I began to laugh "Are you crazy? Borders are the only things that promote order between people of different cultures, they're the only things that stop anarchy." He started laughing when i said and honestly i didn't appreciate it because at the time i was thinking that this crazy b*****d had no right to laugh at me while I'm giving him a completely logical, sensible and coherent counterpoint. Then he said "You are wrong, Tre." My skin began boiling i was so angry because i thought that i was getting a lecture from a lunatic, but i didn't know how many times he would overlook me calling him crazy with us both knowing that he kill me on a whim if he wanted to so i kept my mouth shut. "Tre, you are wrong because borders inspire hatred, they inspire a feeling of greed in the citizens and worst of all separate us as a species, which is wrong. Humans are communal in nature and borders discourage that instinct and encourage people to do everything for the good of the country when people should be doing everything for the good of the human race. Tre, you didn't let me finish before; i want to do the same thing i did here in Africa; i want to destroy the worlds borders so the human race can unite and live as one." When he said that to me i started to imagine a world without prejudice or racism, i started to imagine a world without borders, a world where everyone worked and lived not for themselves but for each other and for the advancement of the species and i started to like it. Though the only question i had for him was "How do you control this untied earth?" It's been so long that i cant remember whether i actually asked him or if Dante simply told me this part himself but he said "I'll rule and when i die I'll choose successor." As soon he said it i remember shooting up out of my seat and screaming "NO!" As i reached for a gun that i'd hid in my pants I shouted "You don't have the right!" By the time i had gotten my gun out and pointed where he should've been sitting he was gone and before i could even think about where he'd gone he was behind me with a blade pressed against my throat and another firmly pressed against my back. It was then he whispered to me "Because I'm the only person on the planet who the entire world will willingly follow. Relax and put the gun down." The moment he showed me why this was the irrefutable truth is the moment i became his most loyal friend and subordinate, that moment is why i have remained so to this day. 

Part IV

Amazing. But its more than amazing, its incredible, unbelievable, and if i hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I'd call it ludicrous. Whatever was done to him is beyond any science that I've encountered, so far beyond that at first i thought the power in his eyes was given to him by god himself. I thought that this power was a gift from god until i found their (for lack of  a better term) Achilles heel, an adverse side effect that they have on him that Dante has to know. But i'm getting ahead of myself, mainly because he explicitly ordered not record of my findings and personally, i think its because he didn't want to take the chance of this information being discovered by anyone other than myself. If anyone discovered this information, it would ruin the god-like image he's cultivated among the people of the world and cause Unitaria to crumble. If Unitaria crumbled, it would send the world into anarchy. First, society would crumble, then with it humanity. The collateral damage would be the world itself. Though, i do wonder if that's better than the way the world is now, because does one human have the right to rule everything? Does one man have the right to be the absolute authority to which all of humanity submits to? Does a man have a right to be called god? But im rambling at this point; i'm going to do something that most men like me, men of science, don't usually do. I'm going to leave it to chance. I'm going to hide this and a copy of all the data that i collected during this study; hide it in the Grand Clayborn Library. If you have read and believed everything up to this point, then i have one question for you to think about. What kind of world do you think we live in: one of peace or submission?

Part V

Dr. Eric Sidis 
May 3, 2109
Subject: Dante Gattarack (Eyes)

So, before i shock myself or think twice, im just gonna get right to it; the ability that emanates from Dante's eyes is a sort of mind control, but it's more complex than just that. He can't control people's bodies, but what he can do is create illusions, elaborate illusions that can thoroughly fool all of the five senses simultaneously. He can also fool any of the five senses individually and any grouping of the senses (i.e. hearing and vision, touch and smell, etc.) and through all the tests I have run, all the situations I've placed him in and all the illusions I've asked him to project on the test subjects (myself included), not once has any of Dante's illusions ever been broken by the subject. This definitely explains why all the citizens of the nations he's conquered didn't resist his rule in any way. It also explains why the citizens of Unitaria treat him like a godly figure. To them, he can do anything. To them, he really is a god king. The scary thing is that the only limits to the illusions are the limits of his imagination. Though, there is a side-effect to this ability. For some reason, when Dante uses this power, it puts an incredibly large strain on every muscle in his eyes which has made it increasingly difficult for Dante to move his eyes over time. At first, I thought that telling him to simply stop using this ability would save his eyes from becoming drastically and permanently damaged, but then i discovered something else in my second week of analyzing the data i had collected. I  had discovered that not only does Dante's ability affect his eyes, it affects his entire nervous system - every single nerve in his body. But even though i know all of this, i still have no idea how he does what he does; nor do I understand how he gained this ability because he was unwilling to talk about anything that happened before the Last Wars began. So, I guess that secret dies with him. There is one thing that I do know, and that's that Dante's nervous system is deteriorating and sooner than later he'll barely be able to move his lips.

Part VI

Sometimes i forget how long its been since i first sat in this seat, there's so much to do that at times i cant remember the day, hell, sometimes a month or two might go by without me even realizing it. Some days i simply can't stand it. Other days i question if any other human alive or that's ever lived for that matter has the mental and physical fortitude to do for one day what has been required of me since i was 19 years old. Twenty-seven years, twenty-seven long years I've been the sole leader of humanity. Twenty-seven long years I've been the god of humanity. No, no, saying that would just make me a damned liar. If I were to be completely truthful, I've been the sole leader of about 96% of humanity, but it'll be a hundred percent in my lifetime. That i can swear on the life of my family: all of humanity will be subject to my rule because i, along with my sons and their sons, and their sons are the only humans that have a right to look down upon their fellow man. We've planned an attack on the Antarctic colony. All of my generals and i have been planning the initial assault for months. And even though every single time we met to plan the attack, they advised against me leading the assault myself, I've taken it upon myself to do so regardless of whether they believe it to be a good idea or not because that is what i know i was born to do. Even though i was born with the right to rule over my fellow man, i know that my true purpose in life was to be the one man to truly unite humanity under one banner for the first time in recorded history. My grandfather failed because he simply didn't live long enough; because he wasn't strong enough to finish what he started. My father failed because he was, for lack of a better term, a giant b***h. He would always tell me that war wasn't just something that you took lightly because all life is sacred, that all people and all things were connected. He was just scared, scared and stupid, scared to risk his life for the good of our species and to stupid to understand that the ability his eyes made him perfectly suited for war - to stupid to understand that only those who live under the flag of Unitaria are connected. Those people in the Antarctic colony aren't even human because all humans are led by the Gattarack family. If i could, i would kill every last thing living there myself. That's why i want to lead the initial attack because no one understands how important this is and how necessary this is as much as i do. Humanity needs to be untied because humanity was meant to be untied and i was meant to do unite them. My grandfather Dante built the ship that is Unitaria, my father Michael kept it afloat and i will be the one to anchor Unitaria in the hearts and minds of humanity. Hell, with the ability that has been granted to me by my eyes, those living in the Antarctica will surrender to me in seconds after they see what i can do. At this point, i can't wait to set foot on that frozen tundra and do what i know i was born to do. I was born to fight as a soldier; being a leader is what i'm supposed to do, but being out there on the battlefield, smelling the blood, the bodies burning, watching as men and women test their mental and physical fortitude in the face of unrelenting horror makes me feel at ease, it calms me in a way that nothing else does.

Part VII

They call me a god, or at least most of them do, but in all honesty i can't stand being seen in that light. I know my dad wanted the people on his side when he created Unitaria, i know he needed the support of people for this unified nation to last, but i think his gravest mistake was making the people believe that he was some type of god. My dad never thought about how much pressure that would put on his successors. It's hard enough trying to control almost the entire world without also having to keep up the facade that your some kind of god or divine being. The worst thing about all of this is what it's doing to my son, he's starting to buy into all of these god-king misconceptions. I can tell that its getting to my wife as well, but she's kept herself together because she understands that my father was simply an average man who had inexplicably been given some type of ability. Kayden couldn't be more different. Every time i try to explain what and who god really is, he looks at me and says that if we're not gods then why do we have the right to rule over other people. I always tell him that we're not rulers that we're leaders, but even i don't believe that. I try to tell him that we're just like everyone else, but he always says: "If we're just like everyone else, then why do our eyes look different than their's and why do our eyes give us special powers and their's don't." Kayden's ten years old now, he must have said that to me more times than i can count and i still haven't been able give him an answer. He's only a child and i don't want to tell him that these abilities that our eyes give us are nothing more than fools gold, just curses wrapped up like presents. He doesn't know the price that comes with our eyes, a price he, unfortunately, paid in full when he was born. I don't have the strength to tell him. I don't want him to live on a timetable, always thinking about the end of his life which is going to be a living hell. I wish he didn't have these damned eyes, but if he didn't the people would most likely revolt and Unitaria would crumble and he would be killed. So even if i could i don't think i would ever take his eyes away but one thing i wish i could do is give him my eyes, give him my abilities so he could see the world through my eyes. I wish he could understand what my eyes have allowed me to understand, i wish that for one day he could see what i see. I wish that instead of just being able to destroy things, i wish he could be aware like me, aware of everything. Aware of how uniformly everyone and everything fits together in such a beautiful and perfect way. That at times, i can honestly say it brings tears to my eyes. Seeing things that way would at least make him understand that people, that all people are no more important than the ground we walk on, or even the animals to which we as humans so proudly proclaim to be superior to. Humans are equally as important to the enormous system of life as the smallest microbe or blade of grass and i wish that Kayden and all those who came after could understand so they can see that we aren't meant to rule over humanity. I and everyone who succeeds are meant to be servants to the human race, striving to advance as far as it will go. More than anything, i want my son to understand that being a leader doesn't mean forcing people to submit to your will. It means that he must be a shepherd and be an example for them to follow down the right path. 

Part VIII

Dear Grayson,

I've been on the goddamn moon settlement for two and a half weeks and if i have to stay a day longer I'm going to lose it i swear. One more day up here and they're going to find me in my hotel room in fetal position naked trying to eat my pillow. But luckily for me, i don't have to stay up here a second longer because i found what i was looking for. Now, i can imagine that you are wondering where and how i found this ancient piece of information. I don't want you to worry, your questions will be answered. So once you get this please don't get all crazy because i'll already be on the shuttle by the time you read this so i'll just call you whenever i can back to my phone, and yes, i forgot to take it again. But can you really blame me? Its always on me, so when i leave i just assume i have it, so don't judge me d********g 'cause i know how you get. So, first and foremost, I have to tell you about how i found this thing. See, i was half heartedly searching for this book because i never thought that something so old would have even a remote chance of being on the moon, but I only gave it a try because you were being so damn pushy. So after i had arrived on the moon, i went straight to the Unitarian Historic Library and started searching their digital collection. I went through every single book in the database, but after hours of searching (so long that when i was done the library was five minutes from closing), i didn't find a god damned thing. So i left the library and came back the next day as soon as they opened their doors and began searching the unusually large collection of physical books they had. I wasn't even looking for the book itself I was looking for what i thought would be another vague clue leading to the book's real location somewhere on Earth. Then i saw something strange. It was a hard cover book, but the cover was blank. There was literally nothing on the front or back, nothing but a blank, black hard cover. I was naturally curious. So i started flipping through it, read a couple pages. The contents were pretty strange. The few pages that i read in the front of the book were parts of a romance novel, but the pages i read at the back of the book turned into a description of the Antarctic Campaign (when it started, how it ended, key battles, the important people, etc.). I took the book back to my hotel room (prison cell) so i could examine it further and I was up all night doing so. I read the romance novel first, it was about an older woman, a teacher who had fallen in love with a 14 year old student. Then I read the propagandist description of the Antarctic Campaign. I read these two over and over again trying to decipher why anyone would put these two within the cover of the same book and then I noticed something. I noticed that there was something in the cover moving, so I tore off the the cover (I guess the book's a paper back now, right?). I cracked both of them in half and pieces of paper fell out. They were exactly what we were looking for: the Complete Genus. So when I get back to Earth, we can finally find the true lord of Unitaria.

Your Friend,
Angelo

Part IX

He tried to get the best of me. Sneak up on me when he thought my guard was down, but what he didn't understand was that my guard is never down. I didn't have a lot of time, but once i heard the slight sounds of what i knew were footsteps i stopped walking and created an illusion that in the simplest of terms caused me to switch places with the soldier i was speaking to on my way to the training room. The assassin then, only moments later, threw a combat knife at the head of the young soldier whom i was speaking with. Before i could even take a breath the assassin had gotten close enough to place a gun so close to my face that i could clearly see the grooves in the muzzle of the gun. I could've counted them if i wanted to. He had a shocked look on his face, like he didn't expect to actually kill what he thought was myself, he just held the gun in my face and stood there, frozen. In his mind he was still looking at the young soldier whom in reality he had already killed, so i said "Look...look just get the knife outta the back of his head and lets get out of here." The assassin heard and saw a young soldier who had just watched the ruler of Unitaria die and was nothing but a scared and nervous wreck. The illusion really wasn't that hard for me to keep up. He squeezed the handle of the gun tighter and said in a panic: "Why the f**k would i let you come with me?" After he said it, he forced the gun up against my forehead and as i struggled to hold back my slowly intensifying anger so i could change the the assassin's thought, he heard a scared young soldier say "Because if i don't they're gonna pin this murder on me and the son of the man you just killed will have me killed in the most painful way he can imagine. Please the only person I..." As the assassin listened to the illusion i had created, i pulled the knife out of the back of the head of the real soldier who was laying dead on the floor and came to within an inch of the assassin. I ended the illusion and as he stared into my eyes with a look of fear and terror that only men who know they are going to die experience and i shoved the knife deep into his abdomen. He didn't make a sound, the look of fear that previously had occupied his face had turned into a blank stare which i could only interpret as shock. When i pulled the knife out, his body went limp and he collapsed face down on the floor. I dropped the knife and picked up his body and carried him to the training room. I sat him up against a wall and sat down next him, he was dying but he was still conscious. I asked him "Why do you hate me?" and in a deep, calm, monotone voice he answered "Because your nothing but a monster, a demon." I nodded my head and said "Most people think that I'm a god sent to unite humanity and save humanity from destroying itself." There was a long pause and then he said "That's right, your the anti-christ. A wolf in sheep's clothing, the son of satan who has come to earth to bring about the end of days." I couldn't help but laugh; i started feeling bad for the kid because i could tell he really believed what he was saying with all of his heart. "Why do you think I'm the anti-christ, kid?" i said after i was finished wiping the tears of laughter off my face. "Your eyes, your powers, they're inhuman and were given to you by Satan so you could fool humanity. Father Braun saw your inhuman powers first-hand. He told  everyone who lives in the Antarctic Colony this information." As soon as he said, that i knew that who ever this Father Braun person was, he must have been a survivor of the Last Wars. Though that fact didn't surprise me, what did surprise was that a large enough number of people in the Antarctic Colony who actually believed him enough to inspire an assassination attempt: a good assassination attempt. I asked his name and he told me it was David. I told him: "David, I'm not the anti-Christ. Besides these eyes, I'm just a regular human. I wasn't even born with these eyes, with this power. I was born a regular human about 100 years ago in a place called Yuma, Arizona. I was a debited slave for the first 15 years of my life. Back then, i didn't even know my name was Dante Gattarack, i thought it was "twenty-seven". I eventually killed the guy who owned me and went to a maximum security prison in Alaska. That's where i got these powers. I don't know what they did and i don't know how they did it, but they did something to me. I'm nothing but a lucky nobody." I looked back at David and saw that his eyes were closed, i knew that he'd either gone into shock or passed out from the loss of blood and i knew that it didn't matter. Either way, he would be dead soon. I stood up and walked and out of the room, but something compelled me to go back. I guess I just didn't feel right leaving him the way he was, with a haunting stare on his face. I walked back into the room and back towards his body. The closer i got to his body, the smaller my strides became until finally i was crouching right in front of his body. Then he coughed and i knew that he had gone into shock. I felt bad for him. He was going to die for the wrong reasons. He was going to die because some crazy old man thought i was some spawn of Satan. He was going to die because he listened. So i made what was probably the dumbest decision of my life and called a medical team to save the life of a man who had tried to kill me, the life of a man who would later join Tre as the only people in the world who i knew i could trust. Its funny though, the first thing he said when he recovered from his injuries was "Tell me more."

Part X

I can't go on like this, I don't know whats real, its gotten so bad that lately I haven't even been to tell what I'm seeing is real or not. In fact, I don't even know if I'm actually typing this or if I'm just sitting somewhere with a blank stare on my face. I keep having these nightmares, nightmares so bad, so terrible that going to sleep has become impossible. Every time I lie down and I begin to doze off, I'm always awake a few minutes later screaming and sweating so much that I look I've been in a sauna for hours. The things I see in my dreams are indescribable, I don't even want to spend any time trying to remember them, trying to remember those things. Whatever is wrong with me is destroying me, inside and out, i can't take it anymore, I can't go on like this. I've tried everything to cure this psychosis, or schizophrenia, or whatever this is but nothing, absolutely nothing has worked. I can't remember the names of all the pills I've taken, all the f*****g injections, all the god damn drugs, nothing has been able to bring back to reality and I just can't take it anymore. The only emotions i feel are anger, frustration, fear, sadness and guilt because of what I've done. I killed a man in one of my hysteric delusions, I beat him to death with my own two hands. His face, the face of a man who died in unimaginable agony, has been added to the long list of things that haunt my psyche. His face, when i had come back to reality, I saw his face just staring at me. His name, dear god i didn't even know his name. I want this all to end, i want to be free of the nightmares, the psychosis, free of the hell that has become my life. That's all I've thought about since my wife, my children, my parents and everyone else related to me in any way has abandoned me. I apologize to everyone that has been hurt by my condition, everyone that I've hurt trying to rid myself of this curse and everyone that held out hope that one day I would get better. I've realized that there's no escaping this, death is the only escape, death is the only road to peace. To whomever finds this note please tell my wife Helena that the time I had with her was the happiest time of my life and tell her not to tell my children what happened to me or why I did this, please. I'm looking forward to the taste of the gun barrel in my mouth: my salvation.

-Holice Snow

Part XI

To all it may concern,

In the wake of his murder, the project that was the brain child of Dr. Angelo Soto is now over. In part due to the fact that without Dr. Soto this project cannot exist, without his unique thinking and personality we cannot hope to gain any progress. There is also, a financial problem with the university's funding. The president has stated that because the only evidence that the continuation of this research project was apparently lost with Dr. Soto. The police have recently informed me that the man who killed Dr. Soto, a Mr. Holice Snow recently burned down his apartment with his corpse and the evidence needed inside. The funeral for [x] will be held this Saturday at the Risen Angel graveyard in Clayborn City.

-Dominic Soto

Part XII

It seems like a century ago that that I left the Antarctic Colony to kill Dante Gattarack, the leader of Unitaria, the savior of the earth, the man who changed the world, the god king and until a few months ago, a monster in my eyes. Though oddly enough after almost a year of stalking him, studying him, tracking him and learning as much as I could about him, failing to kill him and almost being killed by the, Dante Gattarack I'm now sitting comfortably across from the man in his personal jet. It was a short four months ago that I made my way to the South Sandwhich Islands and was able sneak into Central America to kill the man that at this very moment I'm laughing and drinking with as if he was an old close friend. Talking through his signature high-pitched giggle Dante asks me "So wait...How in the hell did you even get to South Sandwhich Islands? There's no way that there are any boats Antarctic Colony. No f*****g way." As he says this I nod my head, smile and sip from my glass and tell him what I did "We lied. We sent a transmission to a fisherman's boat via radio and told him that I had valuable information about an attempt on your life, that needed to be delivered to you in person." Dante burst into loud hysterical laughter upon hearing that story and after what could only be considered a awkwardly long amount of time, he wipes the tears from his face he says "Smart. Very smart. But how did you know that this random captain of some random fishing boat would believe you let alone help you?" The overwhelming feeling of joy that i had been filled with up until now as Dante and I swapped stories and jokes had been replaced with a sense regret. I was filled with regret because of how simple minded i had been before, how much of a sheep i had become in the wake of a religion i followed not because i believed in it, but because my dad, his dad and his dad had believed in it so strongly. Personally, I never really developed a strong belief in any of that religious stuff, hell, even when i was sitting in church with my dad I wasn't bathing in the lords glorious light, I was basking in the warmth that was my dad's look of pride. Sitting there next to me when i was just a kid, looking down at me and smiling, smiling because just like he did with his dad I chose to become a part of the Church. Then he died during the Last Campaign because according to the Church, Unitaria was hell incarnate. After Unitaria completed their goal of uniting the planet I found myself in a dark, dank submarine because I hadn't known anything but the Church, so when they announced that all true followers would travel to the new holy land that was Antarctica, i followed. I followed the Church not because of my unrelenting devotion to the faith, but because I didn't know what else to do and at that point in my life independent thought had become a fantasy, I was nothing but a sheep. I would dream about finally thinking for myself the same way people dream about flying. It took me the first 24 years of my life to figure out that coming up with my own rules to live by was better than blindly living out my life just doing what i was told, better than living scared to make my own choices. That was the realization that i had when i was sitting in the home of Dante Gattarack, (more specifically, some strange gym in his home) with a knife wound in my stomach bleeding to death, I had finally freed myself of my sheepish life. I answered Dante "You know damn well that you used that little eye power you got make almost every person on the planet think that you're a god or at least some some kind of savior of mankind." He chuckled and finished his drink then poured himself another, only this time he didn't bother to put any ice in the drink, i guess he just wanted the alcohol in his system. Then he said "That was never my intent. I never wanted to a god. I just wanted things to change and I didn't wait around my whole life hoping the world and the people within would change." Just like the day we met his words intrigued me. "Is that why you created Unitaria, Dante? Because you wanted things to change." There was no joy left in his face after i said. What I could see was only the look of a man burdened by something. I just didn't know what. "David, you don't know how wrong you are. I did it because...it's a long story." I grabbed the bottle of Vodka we'd been drinking from and poured my self another glass, leaned back in chair and said "Dante, all we have to do for the next 10 hours is drink and stare at clouds. You can talk until your face turns blue and we'll still have another 2 hours left."
At this point Dante wasn't doing anything but staring into his glass and he said "You absolutely cannot tell anyone even the tiniest piece of what I'm about to tell you." I shook my head yes and he said "There can't be anything that disrupts people's preconceived notions of who and what I actually am." I knew he would tell me, i knew he would tell me because I was one of two people in the entire world that Dante felt that he could be completely honest with. And of those two people I'm the only person who didn't know where he'd come from or who he was before Unitaria. Then Dante finished off the latest glass of vodka he had poured himself, then poured another glass and in a matter of seconds the glass was empty. After the vodka had given him enough courage he slumped down into his chair and said...

Part XIII

I don't want to tell David this story, hell the only reason I ever told Tre was because he has been with me since the beginning of my war against borders. He's been my adviser through all of it from Africa, until we took the last piece of land in Australia, he's helped through it all. We talked a lot, and it was after almost 40 years together, countless inquiries about my past and small, very specific answers over a long period of time he learned the truth of who I was and the rest he experienced with me. In my desperation to not tell David this entire story I ask him "Are sure you wanna hear this now. Hell, why do you wanna hear this now?" I was hoping that he would rescind his previous request of wanting to hear this story, but he then said to me "Dante, you said that you wanted me to advise your son, you said that you wanted me to help him rule over Unitaria, you said you wanted me to help him understand your vision of what Unitaria should be and how it should operate. Dante, I don't understand how I can do that if the only thing that I really know about you is that you are the person who almost killed me but didn't, and that you founded and rule Unitaria. So how am I supposed to help him with all that, how am I supposed to tell him anything about you when I dont know anything about you?" What he's saying makes sense, but for the life of me, I just don't want to tell him so for some reason. I try, again, to wiggle my way out of telling him anything and in one last foolish attempt to dodge him by asking "Why don't you just ask Tre if you want to know so bad?" He slams his glass on the table and cracks it, then he says "Why did you let me live that day, why didn't you just let me bleed out?" He says this in an ever increasing tone of voice, by the time he got to the word "out" he was basically yelling at me. I think it's hilarious, but at the same time commendable that a 19 year-old kid is yelling at me with not an ounce of fear in his eyes even though he knows everything about what I can do, he's experienced it first hand and he still isn't intimidated by me or what i can do. I said "I trust you because you are like Tre, like me, your fearless. Think about it, David, the mission those maniacs in Antarctic Colony gave you was impossible and you accepted it without question. There was not a single ounce of doubt in your body that you could kill the leader of Unitaria and if it was anyone in the planet besides me, you would've been successful. I trust you because you are fearless, capable and above all else, you believe that the world is the way it is now, is as close to a perfect place as it's ever going to be." For the first time in a long time David doesn't have anything to say; he's not shocked he almost seems like he wasn't expecting me to give an answer that made so much sense. So I start by saying "As you know I was born in what used to be known as Yuma, Arizona in North America on the first of May, 2075 as what used to be known as a debited worker" "A what?" David said in that dumb clueless tone that all young people do when they completely don't understand something and expect information to be spoon fed, then again, I might just be getting old. "Debited workers were basically slaves, but instead of being owned by a another human we were the banks property. They would just lease us out to different people until our debts were paid off or we died." I see David looking down at the table as I tell him, then he looks up at me with a confused look on his face and says "So...your parents or whomever was responsible for you just sold you to The Bank? Why?" I giggle for a moment at his statements that couldn't be more wrong and tell him "First of all, there wasn't just one bank back when i was born, there were thousands just in the country i was born in and probably hundreds of thousands of them around the world and almost every single one of them employed the debted worker system. Secondly, I wasn't simply just sold to the bank like I was some piece of furniture, I became a debited worker because I was collateral before I was even born." After saying that, I notice that David has a very confused look on his face, like someone trying to read Chinese when they only understand English. So his confusion being considered I say "Don't worry David I'll explain" being as condescending as I possibly can because it annoys him and I think that's just f*****g hilarious and continue on to say. "At the time of my birth there were, for lack of a better term, a s**t load of banks and at one point in time, they were all at some point losing a s**t load of money. Now honestly, I don't know much about that time because of how long ago it was but i do know that almost every bank started losing so much money that they started taking people's time and services as collateral for loans. So, in other words, you could give yourself to the bank for a number of years if you couldn't pay back your loan and it was around the time that I was born that they started to allow parents to put up their children's time as collateral. Though, when that happened, the bank would basically take the kid at age five and own him or her until the debt was paid off and that almost never happened." I could tell that David completely understood what was happening back then and he said "A bunch of life long workers the banks could make money off of, a source of profit that would never run out." He was right, that's exactly what was happening at the time; it still surprises me how quickly he picks up on things. But there was more I had to tell him. "Unfortunately for me, I found myself in that situation before i was even born. I found this out after I escaped, but apparently my mother was a prostitute who needed a lot of money and for some reason decided to put me up as collateral." David's response was : "Wait. So do you have any idea of who you're father was?" Although he is very quick to understand things, I forget at times that he spent the majority of his life up to this point in the Antarctic Colony. So he doesn't know much about vice and I'm willing to bet that he's never experienced any type of vice. "David, my mother was a prostitute, and her being a prostitute means that my dad could be anyone living in what used to be known as the United States of America nine months before i was born." I make a face to try and get my point across without being completely explicit because he's a naive kid and at times an injection of naive thinking isn't such a bad thing. In all actuality, his naive attitude is usually a welcomed change of pace during the course of my day. Come to think of it, maybe that's why I let him live, maybe that's why I like him so much; he's different, he's not like all these other guys who are so cynical that if they saw a newborn baby i think the only emotion they would feel is contempt because the newborn isn't trying to stabilize Unitaria. Then David looks at me and asks "So how did you ever escape that...being a debited worker?" When he asks the question a single thought runs through my mind: here comes the ugly part, then I answer him "When I was about fifteen years old, I was leased out to a man named Guy Makris; the richest man that I had been leased out to and I knew that the second the bank dumped me at his house. When I first arrived at his home, the first thing that I saw was about three or four debited workers all working at once, wearing clean clothes. Now this was shocking to me because first of all, I had never seen more than one other debited worker working with me while I was leased out to someone. Second, I had never in my life seen a debited slave wearing a clean set of clothes because the bank gives you a clean shirt, shoes, pants, socks and a pair of underwear so that you look presentable for your new owners. Though after that whoever the hell leased you out never got you another set of clothes, as result debited workers such as my self just slept naked (the seldom chances we got to sleep) and just put the same clothes back on when they woke up. Though the thing that surprised me the most was the number of people I saw the moment the door opened was the number of people I saw working at one time. I saw two guys that were around my age painting; a young, but at the same time mature, woman who was probably in her twenties carrying what looked to be a bottle of something alcoholic and the man who opened the door, a taller older man with a stern look on his face and gray hair peppered across his mostly black hair and beard. He was the man that told me that I had been leased for five years and he was also the man that changed my life, a man who was later known as Thomas Clayborn, (but at that point in time he was just known as number 553). He taught me how to read, how to do math, he would get me books to read and even when i didn't want to, he forced me to read them and I'm grateful to him for doing so. But he wasn't just a teacher, no, no. That man was the closest thing to a real parent I ever had; and he didn't just teach me either, there were times where he would just talk to me and try to help me understand how the real world worked." Daniel asks me "What do you mean how the real world worked?" i replied: "He told me about life beyond bondage. I never found out much about his past but he was the first person to give me hope that there was the possibility for a better life. He told me about a life where I could choose to do whatever I wanted to, be whatever I wanted to be and he said that whether my choices be good or bad, they would be MY choices." "So is that why you decided to escape?" Daniel said with an obviously eager tone in his voice. "No." I said "Even though I wanted to be a free man and make my own decisions and all that, I was scared. I had never known any other life but a life servitude, and at the time even if I did have the courage to leave I didn't have the slightest clue of how I would escape. So for about four years, I soaked as much information as I could about anything I could. I was reading about politics, psychology, Shakespeare, and ancient Greek history because they were all things that were interesting to the man who'd leased me out, the eccentric Mr. Guy Markis. A man who I had little direct contact with because I was essentially just his in house laborer. All I really did was paint this, move that, do all the heavy lifting for contractors Markis hired and get rid pests and other things he didn't want in his house. And I never really got an opinion from any of the other debited workers because usually I was the only one doing any manual labor, the other workers he had mostly tended to the needs of Guy, his wife and his two his a*****e sons. Personally, for almost the entire time I was there I thought Guy Markis was an okay guy. I didn't think he was a good person because he did own people, but he did provide us all with five different shirts, shoes, pairs of underwear, socks and pants, which was the best anyone had ever treated me back then. But, Thomas, or 553 at the time hated the man more than anything, he always said that he was a sick, evil, degenerate man who stole his identity from him. That was the only time 553, no... Thomas ever even mentioned his past, he told me that when he had first arrived at Guy's home he would beat him until he saw blood every time he heard or saw his name. He told me that Guy Markis would only allow him to be called 553, and he also told me that over the 20 years he'd been there that he was called 553 so much and beaten so brutally and incessantly when he used his real name that eventually he forgot. He said he stole his identity from him, but at the time I had never had an identity. I was never called anything but number 12 and I never really had an identity other than that of a servant so I didn't understand any of what was upsetting about losing your identity, I just thought Thomas (number 533) was just sensitive. Thomas had always told me that everyone was born with a name, even workers like me. Though at the time I didn't think it was important, I was curious as to what my name was. For the majority of the time I worked for Guy Markis, Thomas had been trying to make me hate him, but nothing he told me ever changed my opinion of the man. The thing that caused that to change was something I saw happen. Seeing the aftermath of what that sick b*****d Markis did was what made me want to escape, or at least caused me to do things that allowed every other worker in that house to escape." Then David said, with a confused look on his face, "Wait ... what, I'm confused, I thought you escaped with all the workers." I told him to just wait and listen, then I continued with my story "As I said earlier, over my time working for Guy Markis, I didn't get the chance to speak with many other of the debited workers he had working for him, but I spoke to a few of them, like this girl named Maria and her little brother Christian. A twenty something year old girl and a boy who couldn't be more than twelve years old, both of whom Markis had leased from the bank at the beginning of what would be my last year working for him. Both Maria and Christian had just recently become debited slaves and for some reason I felt compelled to help the both of them, even if it meant that my own work would go unfinished and that I would be punished. But I didn't care. Whatever it was they were doing I would offer my help, even if it was something that I had no knowledge of. I would help and I had no idea why I was doing this for them. I usually kept to myself when I wasn't around Thomas, but there was something about those two that made me want to extend a helping hand. To this day I'm not sure if it was because Christian reminded me of myself at that age, Maria's wholesome beauty underlined by her subtle toughness, how helpless they both were or all those factors combined, but I did know this: helping them and just being around them was the first time I ever felt I had a connection with someone. I can say now without a doubt in my mind that I loved them both, but not in a romantic way. I loved them in the way a good father loves his children. I felt like their protector and I enjoyed that feeling. What he did was just.." "Are you okay?" David asks, throwing me off of my train of thought with the sheer randomized nature of the question, so I ask "What? Why the hell wouldn't I be?" David calmly says "Your tearing up." I touch my face and look down to see me my wet fingers then wipe my eyes almost as if I need more proof that I am indeed crying because I didn't have even the slightest idea that I was crying. I continue "What Guy Markis did was unforgivable and it caused me, for the first time in my life, to lose my composure, to break my the even keeled expression on my face that never broke. I snapped. It was about eight months after Maria and Christian arrived at Markis' home, the third of May; it started out as a regular day. I woke up on the floor of the den after moving furniture and I went to the kitchen to move more furniture so I could begin painting. After I finished moving the furniture, I left to get the paint and check on Maria and Christine. I decided to go to get the paint before I checked up on the two of them, so I made my way to the basement and as I closed the door to the basement, standing at the top of the stairs I thought I heard something, but ignored it. As I walking down the stairs, I kept hearing something that sounded like heavy breathing and right before I got to the bottom of the stairs I thought I heard someone say something, but I, again, didn't make anything of it. Then, when I finally reached the basement I them, I saw him, I saw Guy naked, I saw Christian naked and Maria naked, covered in blood, her face covered in bruises and cuts, with pieces of her hair ripped out, motionless and breathless on her back, dead. Guy had the boy in a headlock and he was caressing his face and they both looked at me. Christian had a terrified look on his face. To scared to scream or even move. Guy asked me what I wanted and I didn't say anything. I just walked over to where the paint cans were stacked and grabbed two cans. I never took my eyes off the two of them as I did so. As soon as I grabbed the two paint cans, Guy told me to get the f**k out. I walked to the foot of the stairs and then I stopped. Guy said something to me, but I didn't listen. I just stood there. I couldn't even hold my head up I just stood there for a second looking at the floor. Then, suddenly I dropped the paint cans I was holding and charged at Guy and before he could do anything I had torn him away from Christian and I was on top of him punching him over and over again until his face was so damaged that he was unrecognizable. I got up and I saw his chest expand and I immediately started stomping on his face with the heel of my boot until my foot was numb. Then, I looked down and saw the front of his skull crushed, nothing but a mess of brain matter, skin, pieces of bone and blood, it was like I had turned his face inside out. I told Christian to go to number 553 (Thomas) and tell him I said that he needs to get all the workers out of the house. I went Guy's study and grabbed the decorative black combat knife he kept on his desk, the same knife I had helped Maria polish the week before she was killed. Then, I went to his son's room, then his daughter's room, then to the kitchen and placed the head of Mrs. Guy Markis' daughter on top of the stove, sat down on the floor leaning my back up against the stove and waited for Mrs. Guy Markis to come home. One hour later, she walked through the side door as she always did and screamed as loud as she could while reaching for her phone so she could send an emergency signal to the police. I tried to grab her before she could do this, but I was too late. When I did grab her, I got her arm yanked her over to me as hard as I could and punched her as hard as I could in the face. When she fell to the ground I climbed on top of her and slit her throat, then I slammed her head against the ground until she stopped moving. I got up and stood over her body so I could look into her eyes, the same way I looked into her husband's eyes and into her children's eyes. About fifteen minutes later, the cops showed up and I surrendered without a fight." David had a shocked look on his face and said "Why the children? Why didn't you just stop at Guy Markis? Why did you have to kill his whole family?" Then, shamefully, I told him "I didn't have to kill his family. I snapped. Sixteen years of repressed anger and aggression had been released at once, David. It was inevitable." Then the pilot said that we were about to land and then David said "So, wait. When did you gain your true freedom?" All I did was smile and said: "After I broke out of prison." 

Part XIV

Up until a few weeks ago I'd never seen a trial, if I'm being completely honest with myself I barely understood how a trial even worked up until a few weeks ago. The only thing I knew about legal proceedings before a few weeks ago was that there was a man in a robe that would bang a tiny wooden hammer on a desk and yell "guilty". I don't think anyone can imagine how surprised I was to realize that the entire process was about as long and complicated as a pregnancy. Though, what's surprised me more than anything is how comfortable I feel in this place, the disrespect, the rigid orders being given by the myriad of authority figures that seem to be in every single corner and crevasse of this damned place and the ever present, everlasting feeling that I'm in danger. All of those factors that would snap the mind of a normal person under an infinite weight of paranoia, make me feel like my life is back to normal, like i've gotten back to working for no pay and going wherever the bank would tell me to go, dealing with any rich b*****d that paid for my services. I always thought that the one thing here that I wouldn't be able to take is the constant sense of danger looming over me like a storm cloud before it releases it's inevitable down pour on the earth. The first few days I was in this prison I was completely on edge, constantly looking over my shoulder and every time I found myself alone I thought that someone, anyone was going to sneak up on me and end the roller coaster ride that was my life. Though after those first few days all of those feelings had subsided, I wasn't scared, I wasn't scared at all, the storm cloud of looming danger that was hanging over has given way to an empty feeling, a feeling of nothingness, like I have no reason to live anymore and to be honest I really wished that the cops who'd arrested me had just killed me instead. I wish those cops had just shot and killed me because I knew that the image of both Maria and Christian's lifeless faces would seared into my mind forever the moment I first saw them. What was once a soft warm, inviting but at the same time tough, the face that once seemed like it was challenging me to admit my feelings to Maria was made cold and lifeless before I ever had the chance to tell her how i felt about her, to tell her that she was perfect, tell her that I admired her ability to exude strength while still being warm and inviting when talking to me and Christian, that seeing her smile only once would somehow make the entire day a good one no matter what happened, i wish I could've told her that I would have done anything to get them out of the life of a debited slave. But because of that b*****d Markis, I could never tell her anything I wanted to tell her anything I could only look at how what was once the most beautiful face in the world was made cold and lifeless, frozen in terror in response to the to the sick s**t that Markis did to Maria in her final moments that I can't even begin to imagine. The memories of that day consume me, I relive that entire day when I wake up in the morning, when I eat my lunch, every night before I doze off on my cot and in my dreams. I've tried before to stop thinking about it before but I just can't, I don't want to forget the last time Maria smiled at me in the kitchen, the last time I saw Christian doing laundry, I don't want to forget the sound of him humming his favorite song, I don't ever want to forget the sight of their lifeless bodies because I want to always to remember the man who did it: Markis, I never want to forget why he did it: because he could, and I never want to forget what I did to him and his family as punishment, the way I killed each one them: his wife, his teenage daughter, and his young son, I never want to forget the way it made me feel: happy. 

XV

This current project is proving to be a hell of a lot more difficult than I thought it was going to be and those government dicks are expecting to get results in the same amount of time it takes them to wipe there own asses. The thing they can't understand (and i don't think they ever will) is that it's not as simple as just sticking a needle in someone and boom, that's it, you've got superman, I've explained it to them over and over again that I need someone young, someone who can take the pain, but someone who's consistent, they've sent me any number of schizophrenics, people who've taken one too many drugs and people with multiple personality disorder, none of them have survived the experiment. Every time it doesn't work and they end up with another dead body on their hands they always come yelling whatever makes them feel better in my direction. But much to my surprise they've recently allowed me to view the profiles of some of the candidates they would be able to produce from within the state and I can only see one person that I could use as my next test subject. He's some debited worker from the poorest part of Arizona and judging by what he's in jail for he's capable of doing things that are shockingly violent and incredibly tough. The physical they gave him on his first day revealed a hell of a lot of scars, a broken hand and the knees of a 60 year old man, at the age of 16, and somehow he still had the energy to massacre an entire family. The kind of toughness that he possess (both mental and physical) make him a very strong candidate to survive the bonding process, and the violent streak will more than please my my employers. Well I don't know if happy is the word to use because I've only ever seen those government agents wearing a single face, a stern and utterly joyless one that would make even the pope think he's done something wrong. Though as much as I hate dealing with those robotic (but somehow idiotic) middlemen, the men they work for are giving me the opportunity to work with a very interesting genetic material that I wouldn't even had known existed if it weren't for them. It fascinates me, some might even say that I'm obsessed with it, it has the genetic characteristics of flora but at the same time it's parasitic but now like the traditional parasite, everything living thing that liquid has touched has changed, changed to defend itself against its own species. I still haven't been able to figure where"The Liquid" came from and I have no idea why The Liquid changes living things to defend themselves from their own species but I do know that if I can get a human that The Liquid doesn't kill he'll be an amazing killer and I think this next test subject, Dante Gattarack survives, he'll be the exact type of killer the government is looking for: a perfect killer and for my employers, the perfect weapon. 

Author's Note

Sorry for the all the lowercase "I" but I wrote this originally on a mac and for any grammatical errors I wrote this when I was a bit younger. Tell me what you think