But ah, I'm apparently going to try to explain, anyway.
As some of you may or may not have noticed, we've been away for a while. 'A while' here meaning an entire month. And that isn't exactly on purpose, but it isn't exactly on accident, either. Jessica Carter's gone and flown us halfway across the country, multiple times, all because she's been chasing this little trio, as part of some bizarre mission only she fully understands.
Trying to herd Jessica one direction or another is hard enough as it is. It begins to feel like trying to herd clouds through the sky using a straw and the meager capacity of one's lungs. After a while, you start to realize just how feeble those things are, to be honest. Andre and I tried, at first, to dissuade her from this crusade she's gotten us on...but I haven't ever seen her this worked up about anything, and neither has Andre, apparently(he's been working with her longer, and he has a good head on his shoulders, so I trust him on this one.)
I feel as though I should back up a bit. Obviously, anyone reading this has probably figured out by now that Jessica and David Banks have a history. A long one, apparently. Here's what I gather, and this is to be taken with a grain of salt, seeing as it comes straight from Jess herself:
Sometime about twenty years ago, David and Jessica got friendly...or as friendly as you can call two psychopathic serial killers together. Real friendly, from the sound of things. If you're not familiar with Banks' work, here's a reminder: the guy has been operating as a hired assassin for anyone willing to pay for the last two decades or so. Mostly Irish mob stuff. But he didn't do it for the money, no. The guy made quite a name for himself as the type you only let loose on your worst enemies, when you wanted someone who was going to enjoy hurting the mark.
You can imagine, then, how he and Jessica might have gotten along. The two of them met towards the beginning of both of their careers, back when she was on her own, before she acquired this nice little empire of hers. To hear her tell it, the two of them were inseparable, going on nightly killing sprees together and then retiring to some abandoned hotel to curl up and cuddle, or whatever it is psychopaths do when they aren't killing people. It's almost adorable. If you're a deranged lunatic.
Eventually they parted ways, but Jessica speaks about David as fondly as I've ever heard her about anyone, calling him "the most fearsome knife-wielding predator I've ever known." Whatever the hell that means.
But apparently, he's gone straight or something, now. And that's an offense Jess isn't willing to suffer. She's convinced that this change of heart is a response to 'the world bringing him down', or some such nonsense. It's strange, hearing her go on and on, in reverent tones, about the distinction between 'David Banks' and 'Azrael'. In her own words, the latter is "a soft smear left on the floor of the world, weak and disgusting like all the others. He's nothing like David Banks, nothing at all."
Unfortunately, that's exactly what the aforementioned 'mission' she's in is all about; reminding him of 'who he really is', bringing that side of him back to the forefront of his life.
That's where the young lady's post, "Quiet Spell", comes into play. We'd been tracking the three of them for a few weeks before we hit upon their hiding place. Andre and I drove her there ourselves, and she knocked on the door. It apparently didn't go well, because the conversation with her old flame didn't last long, and she came sprinting off David's doorstep screaming, "LONG LIVE DAVID BANKS!", over and over.
Since then, we've been more or less harassing them at every opportunity. David's already moved them once, but it didn't take us long to catch up, seeing as we were right on their tail from the get-go. For whatever reason, Jessica's taken to murdering random civilians in the area, and leaving parts of their body outside her 'long lost love's' door. According to her, it's meant to "encourage his sadly-neglected wickedness back out to play."
All Andre and I foresee it doing is leaving a trail for the authorities to follow us by. Which is, needless to say, not great. The clean up is a nightmare, but so far, we've managed to pretty well handle damage control as best as is possible. I've never had my hands so full as since I started working for Jessica Carter. Kind of makes me feel young again!
To be honest, though, there's been a lot to process this past month. Which is why you haven't heard from me. Am I going to return to 'Bradley's Journal Entries?' I hear maybe two of you ask. My answer is a profoundly resonant 'I have no clue.' Jessica seems to have completely lost interest, but me... well, ahh, there's a lot of confusing information in those journals. Some of it is downright insane, and it isn't the stuff that comes from Jess. I mean, that stuff is insane, too. But not like this. I have no idea what to make of it, so I'm sorely tempted to post it here, to see what my readers make of it. It's real spooky stuff.
So now you know more or less where things stand with us. There's more I haven't written about, for the sake of keeping this post as short and readable as possible. But the jist of the situation is there, and anyway, some of it might be better explained from Elizabeth and David's side of things. Can't hog all the story-telling to myself, now, can I?
-Mr Flint
Friday, April 18, 2014
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Strange Tidings
So, as mentioned last night, I've found what I believe to be the next four entries in Bradley's journal. Since Jessica seems to have torn them all out of whatever binding they used to be in, it's difficult to piece together a timeline- I have to look to make sure there aren't any entries dated between the one I have and the one I posted last. To complicated matters even further, this first of four isn't even dated. The only reason I'm pretty sure it comes first is because it seems to kick off what is honestly the weirdest damn thing I've read in a long while. And that's counting even Jessica's commentary.
So, ah, here's the thing.
Gavin has this weird thoughtful look about him, when he's really trying to come up with a solution to something. His eyes get real misty, and his whole body gets real peaceful. It's like his entire being is working towards whatever goal he's got. That's how he's been a lot, lately, mostly since we picked up the little kid. I tried asking him about it, but he just said he was distracted and not to worry about it. I wonder what's going on in that head of his? Dude is too smart for his own good, always has been.
I think, maybe, it's his ex-girlfriend that's bothering him? She's been following him around, lately, I guess. I know because I've seen her, standing outside on the sidewalk, staring at the house. She's a spooky looking bitch, all wrapped up in her big black coat. And I swear to god, from that distance, it looks like she has orange eyes. Gavin just laughed at that when I asked him about her. He said she was an "old flame." Whatever that sappy bullshit means.
This one here is the first piece of the puzzle, and also the lynch pin that tipped me off to how the other three were connected. Two of the next three also don't have dates, but I can just about make out what order they're supposed to be in because of that ex-girlfriend stuff. I'm really not sure what to make of it. I know enough to know there are things you just don't poke your head into... and it looks like Bradley, Gavin, and co. may have poked their head into that kind of nastiness. I don't know.
What I do know is that these next three entries have a lot of commentary from Jessica, so they're going to take a little more time to be posted. Especially since she's got me busy with other work right now. It's a wonder she still even cares that these entries get posted, but she does. Apparently she's proud of them, or something. Ah well. Not my job to ask questions, now is it?
-Mr. Flint
So, ah, here's the thing.
Gavin has this weird thoughtful look about him, when he's really trying to come up with a solution to something. His eyes get real misty, and his whole body gets real peaceful. It's like his entire being is working towards whatever goal he's got. That's how he's been a lot, lately, mostly since we picked up the little kid. I tried asking him about it, but he just said he was distracted and not to worry about it. I wonder what's going on in that head of his? Dude is too smart for his own good, always has been.
I think, maybe, it's his ex-girlfriend that's bothering him? She's been following him around, lately, I guess. I know because I've seen her, standing outside on the sidewalk, staring at the house. She's a spooky looking bitch, all wrapped up in her big black coat. And I swear to god, from that distance, it looks like she has orange eyes. Gavin just laughed at that when I asked him about her. He said she was an "old flame." Whatever that sappy bullshit means.
This one here is the first piece of the puzzle, and also the lynch pin that tipped me off to how the other three were connected. Two of the next three also don't have dates, but I can just about make out what order they're supposed to be in because of that ex-girlfriend stuff. I'm really not sure what to make of it. I know enough to know there are things you just don't poke your head into... and it looks like Bradley, Gavin, and co. may have poked their head into that kind of nastiness. I don't know.
What I do know is that these next three entries have a lot of commentary from Jessica, so they're going to take a little more time to be posted. Especially since she's got me busy with other work right now. It's a wonder she still even cares that these entries get posted, but she does. Apparently she's proud of them, or something. Ah well. Not my job to ask questions, now is it?
-Mr. Flint
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Searching for Meaning(I suppose, anyway)
Oh, look at that. Jessica made a post.
I'd love to say I didn't already know about that. But I did. She made sure that I was aware. And anyway, I suspected something like this was going to happen, sooner or later. Lately every time I see her, she's rattling on about what's been going on online. It has her excited, for some reason. I'm not entirely sure why. It's hard to get concrete information out of Jessica when she's manic like she has been. Mostly all I get is a lot of "Cunts!" and other, less eloquent swear words. But there was something she said the other day that caught my interest, and shed a little light on what's going through her mind in conjunction with her post.
I'm paraphrasing, here, but honestly the conversation stuck out to me enough that I remember most of it. She said to me, "You don't know what they do to people like me, [Mr. Flint]! They do terrible, awful things...they would bring me down if they could! Poke and prod and stab until my whole heart just PLOP! Dropped out, just like that. It's disgusting. Even while they're staring at me, at us, like we're freaks, they're studying and examining and talking about what we do. They practically drool at the chance to get into our heads, to see the things people like us do, the things they wish they could do for themselves! They'd never admit it. Oh, no, they'd never admit it. They want to be us, but since they can't, they make us into them. I won't have it. We're going to do something about it!"
I look at that, and then I look at what she wrote in that last post about David Banks, and I'm wondering if the two are connected. She's got me making travel arrangements for us(us being her, myself, Andre, and a few of ours Andre usually insists we keep nearby) and I can't make heads or tails of where we're going. A few different stops, it looks like, and none of them seem to be connected.
With Jessica, they might mean something, or they might be a pointless waste of money on completely insane bullshit. Who knows? All I know is, if it's something Jessica is excited about, it's something I've got to put a lot of effort into. Wouldn't want to end up dinner any time soon.
Even with all of this on my plate, I've managed to locate and pin down the timeline for the next four entries in Bradley's journal. The next one won't require any fancy formatting, so I'll throw it up tomorrow morning after breakfast. After that, it's going to take some time to get the others out-- I'm having a damn hard time making sense of them, and the content is just baffling... ah well, you'll see soon enough.
-Mr. Flint.
I'd love to say I didn't already know about that. But I did. She made sure that I was aware. And anyway, I suspected something like this was going to happen, sooner or later. Lately every time I see her, she's rattling on about what's been going on online. It has her excited, for some reason. I'm not entirely sure why. It's hard to get concrete information out of Jessica when she's manic like she has been. Mostly all I get is a lot of "Cunts!" and other, less eloquent swear words. But there was something she said the other day that caught my interest, and shed a little light on what's going through her mind in conjunction with her post.
I'm paraphrasing, here, but honestly the conversation stuck out to me enough that I remember most of it. She said to me, "You don't know what they do to people like me, [Mr. Flint]! They do terrible, awful things...they would bring me down if they could! Poke and prod and stab until my whole heart just PLOP! Dropped out, just like that. It's disgusting. Even while they're staring at me, at us, like we're freaks, they're studying and examining and talking about what we do. They practically drool at the chance to get into our heads, to see the things people like us do, the things they wish they could do for themselves! They'd never admit it. Oh, no, they'd never admit it. They want to be us, but since they can't, they make us into them. I won't have it. We're going to do something about it!"
I look at that, and then I look at what she wrote in that last post about David Banks, and I'm wondering if the two are connected. She's got me making travel arrangements for us(us being her, myself, Andre, and a few of ours Andre usually insists we keep nearby) and I can't make heads or tails of where we're going. A few different stops, it looks like, and none of them seem to be connected.
With Jessica, they might mean something, or they might be a pointless waste of money on completely insane bullshit. Who knows? All I know is, if it's something Jessica is excited about, it's something I've got to put a lot of effort into. Wouldn't want to end up dinner any time soon.
Even with all of this on my plate, I've managed to locate and pin down the timeline for the next four entries in Bradley's journal. The next one won't require any fancy formatting, so I'll throw it up tomorrow morning after breakfast. After that, it's going to take some time to get the others out-- I'm having a damn hard time making sense of them, and the content is just baffling... ah well, you'll see soon enough.
-Mr. Flint.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Idiots
Ohhhhhhhh. I've been away from my babies too long....
A lot has happened since we last spoke, babies! The lovely Mr. Flint has kept you updated on most of them, but there are some things he simply doesn't have the stomach for! Cooking, for example. ;-) See, there are many things I know how to do that people don't think I know how to do. I can knit, I can speak French and German, and HELLO?! I'M THE LEADER OF A CRIME RING?!
hehehehehe I lost my temper. I can do that, too, sometimes.
And that's another fucking thing. Why is my temper seen as such a BAD THING by you all(I'm looking at you, my little Fracture)? It's gotten me this far! I'm in charge! No one can bring me down! And it's because I take what I want, I do what I want, I kill who I want. Unlike you all. So many of you, wallowing in the mud, writhing in exquisite agony because you refuse to DO anything about it. And here I am, on top, and there's nothing any of you(or anyone else for that matter) could do to change it!
For fuck's sake, "what's wrong with me?" What's wrong with all of you? Losers!
You've even brought one of the most powerful creatures I've ever met down to your level. You've made him feel shame for the beautiful thing he is, the incredible things he's done. David Banks, down in the mud with the ants and the pigs...it's fucking shameful is what it is.
IT'S A GODDAMN TRAVESTY AND YOU'RE ALL GOING TO PAY FOR IT!!
So what's a grieving mother to do with her time, to cheer herself up after the loss of her only son? Well, studying cooking, for one thing.... there are so many flavors, so many delicious textures to be discovered and explored. I took a man from a restaurant whom I assume is a chef, and he's taught me such wonderful things. For instance, you can really make a stew POP with a few bones and the eyeballs thrown in for flavoring...and sucking on teeth is always a lovely after-dinner treat! Mmmmmm, if only I could share some of this meal with you, babies. It is a delight.
Ahhhh, but I'll have to deal with the screaming, now, before someone drops by to find out just what's going on. You didn't think I wasn't sharing the meal with my new friend, did you? He doesn't seem to be as ecited about eating himself as I am about eating him....but then, no one ever is. >:3
Till next time, babies. Have a good time living like the idiots you all are.
~The Monster
A lot has happened since we last spoke, babies! The lovely Mr. Flint has kept you updated on most of them, but there are some things he simply doesn't have the stomach for! Cooking, for example. ;-) See, there are many things I know how to do that people don't think I know how to do. I can knit, I can speak French and German, and HELLO?! I'M THE LEADER OF A CRIME RING?!
hehehehehe I lost my temper. I can do that, too, sometimes.
And that's another fucking thing. Why is my temper seen as such a BAD THING by you all(I'm looking at you, my little Fracture)? It's gotten me this far! I'm in charge! No one can bring me down! And it's because I take what I want, I do what I want, I kill who I want. Unlike you all. So many of you, wallowing in the mud, writhing in exquisite agony because you refuse to DO anything about it. And here I am, on top, and there's nothing any of you(or anyone else for that matter) could do to change it!
For fuck's sake, "what's wrong with me?" What's wrong with all of you? Losers!
You've even brought one of the most powerful creatures I've ever met down to your level. You've made him feel shame for the beautiful thing he is, the incredible things he's done. David Banks, down in the mud with the ants and the pigs...it's fucking shameful is what it is.
IT'S A GODDAMN TRAVESTY AND YOU'RE ALL GOING TO PAY FOR IT!!
So what's a grieving mother to do with her time, to cheer herself up after the loss of her only son? Well, studying cooking, for one thing.... there are so many flavors, so many delicious textures to be discovered and explored. I took a man from a restaurant whom I assume is a chef, and he's taught me such wonderful things. For instance, you can really make a stew POP with a few bones and the eyeballs thrown in for flavoring...and sucking on teeth is always a lovely after-dinner treat! Mmmmmm, if only I could share some of this meal with you, babies. It is a delight.
Ahhhh, but I'll have to deal with the screaming, now, before someone drops by to find out just what's going on. You didn't think I wasn't sharing the meal with my new friend, did you? He doesn't seem to be as ecited about eating himself as I am about eating him....but then, no one ever is. >:3
Till next time, babies. Have a good time living like the idiots you all are.
~The Monster
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Business as Usual Part II
I did promise that journal entry, didn't I? I sure did. I haven't got much in the way of news, otherwise. Jessica's rampage hit the papers and the television, like I knew it would. Surprises me that investigations haven't turned up this very blog yet. I'm doing my damnedest to hide the thing, God knows, but there's only so much a man with limited computer knowledge can do...ah well. Here's that journal entry I promised you(and Jessica, for that matter.)
April 21, 2011
I haven't heard from Marc in since that stupid fucking party.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Carter's made it pretty clear, since she took over, she won't suffer people who are too chickenshit to do the work she has us doing.* It's not like before, and I thought sometimes that it was bad before. Now I wish it would just go back to the way it used to be.
*Chickenshits. Chickenshits, chickenshits, chickenshits! B'GAWK! Can't fucking stand sniveling cowards. What do they do all day? Why do they have the gall to insist that I'M the crazy one? You imbeciles...you think to yourselves, 'My god, I could stab that person, I hate him so much'...but you don't do it!! You never do it! You desire, you want, you crave, and yet you JUST DON'T GO OUT AND DO. That's fucking crazy....
But Marc was a good guy...my best friend, really...we got in this shit together because we grew up together*, and to think that he might be dead because he didn't want to chop up a little girl and fucking feed her to that freak**...that's just a little too much for me to handle, honestly.
*I don't remember any "Marc" in my little Bradley's life....
**Nom, nom, nom! [There is a scribbled little drawing of Jessica, making a cute 'hungry' face.]
It used to be a lot of drugs. Now it's kids. We still run a shit-ton of the drug trade in New York, that hasn't changed, but Carter thinks we could stand to bring in a lot more money than we are. So she's got us stealing kids off rich motherfuckers, and taking in the ransom money. Some of those kids get sent back in one piece...but lots of them don't, even when we get our money.
Hell, right now she's got me and a couple of other guys hiding out in this little abandoned house, after that girl from the "party" died because her parents didn't cough up any money for their kid.. We're gonna be getting in a little brat of our own, Carter's been saying, sooner rather than later. She's got her eye on a couple, and when she says the word "go" we're supposed to grab one of 'em...
man, if the police ever got hold of my notebook, they'd be all over our asses in a millisecond. Not like they don't know we're out there. I hear rumors that Jessica's thinking about getting a guy or three on the inside of the NYPD*, which is actually a pretty smart idea. Keeping them off our trail is getting to be a chore, with the way that bitch runs things.**
*Reminds me of a meeting I need to get to with one of our police friends! Wish I had someone to remind me of meetings more often...[Considering the timing of when she would have been writing these annotations, I have to wonder if this particular entry was what inspired her to hire me as a 'personal assistant'. I could be wrong, of course. Just speculation.]
**Such naughty language! Little Bradley's potty mouth must come from his father, I have no doubt...only I don't remember his father ever being around for him, the poor little thing.
Still, things are peaceful* ...for now. I thank God for the quiet. Sharing a place with a couple of guys, just me, this guy Gavin I used to smoke with, and a few more...it's helping, I guess. I didn't think anything would or could, after hat stupid fucking "party."
*[Jessica has scribbled out the word 'peaceful' rather harshly here. In fact, the only reason I know the word 'peaceful' is what lies beneath the scratch-marks and the tear of her pen through the page is because she's written 'FUCK PEACEFUL' above it, along with 'TERRIBLE', 'no-good', 'miserable', 'exhausting' and 'decaying quite nicely'.]
There you have it. There's a story developing here, I think. In a lot of these journal entries, Bradley writes very candidly about the way Jessica operates. The writing's a lot more fiery and rebellious than those first couple of blog posts leading up to his death. It's a mess, though. There's so much material to sift through, I'm having a hard time putting the pieces together in a proper timeline. From what I can tell, though, a lot more went on in that house he and Gavin shared than just ransoming a kid...
As an aside, I'd like to point out that we do a lot less kidnapping as of now than Jessica did when she first took over the operation. That was when she was doing the work on her own. She did get those guys set up in the force that Bradley mentions hearing rumors about...later, she hired Andre, and he suggested we cut down on the kidnapping. Lots of rich people with little morals of their own means Jessica had a lot of people trying to put a price on her head. Hell, that's how she met Andre in the first place.
But I'm rambling, so I'll leave you to whatever it is you crazy, blogging people do every day. I've truly got no idea when I'll find the next piece of the puzzle, chronologically, so you may not see any more journals for a while. Ah well.
-Mr. Flint
April 21, 2011
I haven't heard from Marc in since that stupid fucking party.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Carter's made it pretty clear, since she took over, she won't suffer people who are too chickenshit to do the work she has us doing.* It's not like before, and I thought sometimes that it was bad before. Now I wish it would just go back to the way it used to be.
*Chickenshits. Chickenshits, chickenshits, chickenshits! B'GAWK! Can't fucking stand sniveling cowards. What do they do all day? Why do they have the gall to insist that I'M the crazy one? You imbeciles...you think to yourselves, 'My god, I could stab that person, I hate him so much'...but you don't do it!! You never do it! You desire, you want, you crave, and yet you JUST DON'T GO OUT AND DO. That's fucking crazy....
But Marc was a good guy...my best friend, really...we got in this shit together because we grew up together*, and to think that he might be dead because he didn't want to chop up a little girl and fucking feed her to that freak**...that's just a little too much for me to handle, honestly.
*I don't remember any "Marc" in my little Bradley's life....
**Nom, nom, nom! [There is a scribbled little drawing of Jessica, making a cute 'hungry' face.]
It used to be a lot of drugs. Now it's kids. We still run a shit-ton of the drug trade in New York, that hasn't changed, but Carter thinks we could stand to bring in a lot more money than we are. So she's got us stealing kids off rich motherfuckers, and taking in the ransom money. Some of those kids get sent back in one piece...but lots of them don't, even when we get our money.
Hell, right now she's got me and a couple of other guys hiding out in this little abandoned house, after that girl from the "party" died because her parents didn't cough up any money for their kid.. We're gonna be getting in a little brat of our own, Carter's been saying, sooner rather than later. She's got her eye on a couple, and when she says the word "go" we're supposed to grab one of 'em...
man, if the police ever got hold of my notebook, they'd be all over our asses in a millisecond. Not like they don't know we're out there. I hear rumors that Jessica's thinking about getting a guy or three on the inside of the NYPD*, which is actually a pretty smart idea. Keeping them off our trail is getting to be a chore, with the way that bitch runs things.**
*Reminds me of a meeting I need to get to with one of our police friends! Wish I had someone to remind me of meetings more often...[Considering the timing of when she would have been writing these annotations, I have to wonder if this particular entry was what inspired her to hire me as a 'personal assistant'. I could be wrong, of course. Just speculation.]
**Such naughty language! Little Bradley's potty mouth must come from his father, I have no doubt...only I don't remember his father ever being around for him, the poor little thing.
Still, things are peaceful* ...for now. I thank God for the quiet. Sharing a place with a couple of guys, just me, this guy Gavin I used to smoke with, and a few more...it's helping, I guess. I didn't think anything would or could, after hat stupid fucking "party."
*[Jessica has scribbled out the word 'peaceful' rather harshly here. In fact, the only reason I know the word 'peaceful' is what lies beneath the scratch-marks and the tear of her pen through the page is because she's written 'FUCK PEACEFUL' above it, along with 'TERRIBLE', 'no-good', 'miserable', 'exhausting' and 'decaying quite nicely'.]
There you have it. There's a story developing here, I think. In a lot of these journal entries, Bradley writes very candidly about the way Jessica operates. The writing's a lot more fiery and rebellious than those first couple of blog posts leading up to his death. It's a mess, though. There's so much material to sift through, I'm having a hard time putting the pieces together in a proper timeline. From what I can tell, though, a lot more went on in that house he and Gavin shared than just ransoming a kid...
As an aside, I'd like to point out that we do a lot less kidnapping as of now than Jessica did when she first took over the operation. That was when she was doing the work on her own. She did get those guys set up in the force that Bradley mentions hearing rumors about...later, she hired Andre, and he suggested we cut down on the kidnapping. Lots of rich people with little morals of their own means Jessica had a lot of people trying to put a price on her head. Hell, that's how she met Andre in the first place.
But I'm rambling, so I'll leave you to whatever it is you crazy, blogging people do every day. I've truly got no idea when I'll find the next piece of the puzzle, chronologically, so you may not see any more journals for a while. Ah well.
-Mr. Flint
Friday, February 21, 2014
Business as Usual Part I
Did you miss me?
Of course you didn't, and I didn't miss you. If truth be told, I could go my whole life never writing another word on this blog, and it wouldn't bother me in the slightest. It probably wouldn't bother any of you, either, if I never showed up to write a single word more on the subject of Jessica Carter. But unfortunately, Jessica Carter would most certainly be bothered if I never wrote another word about her.
Don't get me wrong. She's not vain, or proud, or egotistical. Not the way normal people are. Jessica is...she's the id. You kids know what the id is, right? That primal side of the psyche, manifesting through subconscious, against the will of it's host body...? Nah, you probably haven't got a fucking clue what I'm talking about. But trust me, that's Jess. She's The Joker without a Batman. She does things, because they come into her head. So when she has a thought, it's almost as though she can't help but perceive it to be true, because for her the distinction between reality and her mind is nonexistent.
Funny enough, this is also why she makes such an effective boss.
The dinner meet-up with Michael went about as well as I could have hoped for. Jessica played nice, we got ahold of Michael's resources as part of our operation, and afterwards I managed to procure the dinner Jessica actually wanted for her.
Yikes.
No, see, the reason you haven't heard from me in a week is because Ms. Carter decided she wanted to celebrate a certain holiday as only she could last Friday. We spent the evening going out on what she lovingly referred to as a "date", but she insisted that there was nothing between the two of us. Which there isn't. And it wasn't like any date I'd have ever gone on if I had any choice in the matter at all. But I didn't. Ah well.
Jessica has a way about her, I'll admit...but I'm not one to romanticize this stuff. She spent the night killing and eating her way across half of New York, and mentioned that her rampage was intended as 'a most loving letter to one still living, out there in the world somewhere, his heart all to pieces.' Her words, I shit you not. She can be surprisingly eloquent when she wants to be. Hell, she's trilingual, if you can believe it!
After that, she had me make some arrangements for travel, and I spent the better part of this week cleaning up as best I could in the wake of her murder spree. I suspect that her serial rampage has put her on the cops' radar once again, though. Not that they won't know who it is. They always do.
So that's why you haven't heard from me, and that's also why Part II of this post is going to go up tomorrow night. Part II is going to be that next entry in Bradley's journal I promised last week. For real this time. I swear.
-Mr. Flint
Of course you didn't, and I didn't miss you. If truth be told, I could go my whole life never writing another word on this blog, and it wouldn't bother me in the slightest. It probably wouldn't bother any of you, either, if I never showed up to write a single word more on the subject of Jessica Carter. But unfortunately, Jessica Carter would most certainly be bothered if I never wrote another word about her.
Don't get me wrong. She's not vain, or proud, or egotistical. Not the way normal people are. Jessica is...she's the id. You kids know what the id is, right? That primal side of the psyche, manifesting through subconscious, against the will of it's host body...? Nah, you probably haven't got a fucking clue what I'm talking about. But trust me, that's Jess. She's The Joker without a Batman. She does things, because they come into her head. So when she has a thought, it's almost as though she can't help but perceive it to be true, because for her the distinction between reality and her mind is nonexistent.
Funny enough, this is also why she makes such an effective boss.
The dinner meet-up with Michael went about as well as I could have hoped for. Jessica played nice, we got ahold of Michael's resources as part of our operation, and afterwards I managed to procure the dinner Jessica actually wanted for her.
Yikes.
No, see, the reason you haven't heard from me in a week is because Ms. Carter decided she wanted to celebrate a certain holiday as only she could last Friday. We spent the evening going out on what she lovingly referred to as a "date", but she insisted that there was nothing between the two of us. Which there isn't. And it wasn't like any date I'd have ever gone on if I had any choice in the matter at all. But I didn't. Ah well.
Jessica has a way about her, I'll admit...but I'm not one to romanticize this stuff. She spent the night killing and eating her way across half of New York, and mentioned that her rampage was intended as 'a most loving letter to one still living, out there in the world somewhere, his heart all to pieces.' Her words, I shit you not. She can be surprisingly eloquent when she wants to be. Hell, she's trilingual, if you can believe it!
After that, she had me make some arrangements for travel, and I spent the better part of this week cleaning up as best I could in the wake of her murder spree. I suspect that her serial rampage has put her on the cops' radar once again, though. Not that they won't know who it is. They always do.
So that's why you haven't heard from me, and that's also why Part II of this post is going to go up tomorrow night. Part II is going to be that next entry in Bradley's journal I promised last week. For real this time. I swear.
-Mr. Flint
Thursday, February 13, 2014
I Hate Meetings
Seriously. They are a pain in my back side.
Doubtless, my humble audience took note of my week-long absence. Jessica and I had business to attend to, so unfortunately, the next entry in Bradley's journal isn't ready for the world just yet. More than likely, it will go up tomorrow night. Things are settling down for us. That meeting on the south side went...well, south, frankly.
We met up with this Michael bloke down south, surrounded by warehouses and dank little office buildings. The area was mostly abandoned. I know that more than a few homeless people squat in those warehouses, which is why it's generally safe to operate from there without worrying about the police nosing in on business.
Jessica doesn't have much good sense, if you ask me, to be going in with this guy. I don't like the look of him. He's quiet, pale, with the sort of attitude only the real killers have to them. Only brought a handful of guys with him down south. He's not like Jessica, he's very well put together, but I think there's no soul under there.
Not to imply that Jessica has anything even remotely approaching a soul. She doesn't. She is an animal, though, while this guy seems more machine than anything else. He gives me the willies.
Anyway, from what Jessica tells me, she's been collaborating with Michael on a few projects...moving money around, mostly...the details will become my problem when she deigns to let me in on them later. He's fairly small-time, but his resources and a couple of his connections are very useful. From what I understand, he runs a printing press for counterfeit cash, which is something Jessica is interested in putting to use. I don't blame her, but I think we could find better guys to do the work for less somewhere else. Oh well.
Somehow, the police got wind of our little meet-up, though. Things got very nasty very quickly, and many bullet holes were made. Many teeth holes were also made, by Jessica, naturally. I had never seen a cop literally shit himself before Jessica charged one of the SWAT guys head-on. The stench was awful. She tackled him to the ground before he had a chance to get a single shot off and tore him to bits, the poor bastard.
That must be how she keeps our boys in line. I wouldn't have believed it was possible, but Jessica has this way about her... men with guns may as well be deer in headlights once she starts after them. I think mostly, she scares people so bad because who would be crazy enough to charge someone with a loaded gun?
Jessica Carter. That's who.
We're supposed to have dinner with Michael on Saturday night, to make up for plans falling apart this first time around. Should be much more relaxed than the shady dealings in dark alleys. I hope there aren't anymore fire-fights. I'm too old for this crap. I'm working on getting some of our boys to look into whether or not it was one of ours that leaked info to the cops. One of Michael's guys has been harassing us about it. I'm just about to blow his head off myself, I'm so sick of the guy. But oh well.
So, as I said, I don't have the next journal entry ready, but if I'm lucky there will be time for that tomorrow night. If I'm doubly lucky, there will be absolutely nothing of interest to report about dinner with Michael on Saturday. I'm not looking forward to convincing Jessica to eat normal people food.
-Mr. Flint
Doubtless, my humble audience took note of my week-long absence. Jessica and I had business to attend to, so unfortunately, the next entry in Bradley's journal isn't ready for the world just yet. More than likely, it will go up tomorrow night. Things are settling down for us. That meeting on the south side went...well, south, frankly.
We met up with this Michael bloke down south, surrounded by warehouses and dank little office buildings. The area was mostly abandoned. I know that more than a few homeless people squat in those warehouses, which is why it's generally safe to operate from there without worrying about the police nosing in on business.
Jessica doesn't have much good sense, if you ask me, to be going in with this guy. I don't like the look of him. He's quiet, pale, with the sort of attitude only the real killers have to them. Only brought a handful of guys with him down south. He's not like Jessica, he's very well put together, but I think there's no soul under there.
Not to imply that Jessica has anything even remotely approaching a soul. She doesn't. She is an animal, though, while this guy seems more machine than anything else. He gives me the willies.
Anyway, from what Jessica tells me, she's been collaborating with Michael on a few projects...moving money around, mostly...the details will become my problem when she deigns to let me in on them later. He's fairly small-time, but his resources and a couple of his connections are very useful. From what I understand, he runs a printing press for counterfeit cash, which is something Jessica is interested in putting to use. I don't blame her, but I think we could find better guys to do the work for less somewhere else. Oh well.
Somehow, the police got wind of our little meet-up, though. Things got very nasty very quickly, and many bullet holes were made. Many teeth holes were also made, by Jessica, naturally. I had never seen a cop literally shit himself before Jessica charged one of the SWAT guys head-on. The stench was awful. She tackled him to the ground before he had a chance to get a single shot off and tore him to bits, the poor bastard.
That must be how she keeps our boys in line. I wouldn't have believed it was possible, but Jessica has this way about her... men with guns may as well be deer in headlights once she starts after them. I think mostly, she scares people so bad because who would be crazy enough to charge someone with a loaded gun?
Jessica Carter. That's who.
We're supposed to have dinner with Michael on Saturday night, to make up for plans falling apart this first time around. Should be much more relaxed than the shady dealings in dark alleys. I hope there aren't anymore fire-fights. I'm too old for this crap. I'm working on getting some of our boys to look into whether or not it was one of ours that leaked info to the cops. One of Michael's guys has been harassing us about it. I'm just about to blow his head off myself, I'm so sick of the guy. But oh well.
So, as I said, I don't have the next journal entry ready, but if I'm lucky there will be time for that tomorrow night. If I'm doubly lucky, there will be absolutely nothing of interest to report about dinner with Michael on Saturday. I'm not looking forward to convincing Jessica to eat normal people food.
-Mr. Flint
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