March 1st, 2007. 2:02 AM. My apartment.

I’m back once more in my apartment lying on my sofa. Torrential rain again.

Rain keeps colliding against my window again. Wind’s bad again. Lightning’s crackling. again. They should be louder. Everything is usually much louder, but it isn’t. My body isn’t listening anymore. It’s too tired. I haven’t been able to fall asleep the entire night. I’m not anxious. I’m not upset. I’m just… empty even though I really shouldn’t be. Had a nice dinner at the White House. Ate some good food, smiled for a bunch of cameras, and shook some hands. Even got to shake hands with President Robin after receiving the presidential medal of freedom. He was wearing sunglasses inside and had two aides helping him walk. They even had to guide his hand towards me. The man couldn’t even speak two sentences to me before his aides wheeled him away. After the dinner, John gave me a file with all the info on the Incident he had and another job offer. I refused and got my codec taken out. Won’t be able to hear John or Lily for quite some time. I keep waiting for my inner ear to vibrate or for Lily or John to give me some advice, but they never do.

I spent all of yesterday reading over every detail of the file. Went over every detail of the event, who David hired to kill Luke and why, and even provided a timeline of events before and after the Incident. While the timeline does fill in some details I wasn’t aware of prior… I don’t believe this. I don’t believe John. It doesn’t add up. It doesn’t make sense. I hate to say it, but David’s claim makes way more sense.

I stare up at the ceiling and rub my shoulder. How many bombs did John put in me? Where are they? I went to the VA doctor I always go to for a checkup, and she said I was fine… Was she lying? Were all my doctors lying? I stare down at the medal on the table in front of me. Blue ribbon, white star surrounded by five gold eagles. It doesn’t have a good weight to it. Can’t tell if it's from the lightning or my own vision, but it's already lost its luster. It's little more than a glorified paperweight.

I reach into my pocket, pull out the usb John gave me, and stare at it.

…

…

…

I firmly grasp it, get off the sofa, and over to my PC. I don’t care if the information hurts me. I don’t care if it leads me to hell. If there’s a chance I can save someone or bring someone to justice, it’s worth it. I stick the usb in, start my computer up, and open the files. My PC hasn’t combusted yet, so I suppose that’s a good sign. There’s gigabytes upon gigabytes of files in here. Videos, pictures, documents, and an excel sheet of alleged Elite members ranging from business owners, actors, bankers, and representatives. It’s not just Americans either. There’s names from all corners of the globe. I keep scrolling and scrolling and scrolling, but the list never ends. How much time was spent compiling this? How would I even begin investigating this? It’d take an entire army to investigate all of this in a lifetime. I keep scrolling and scrolling looking for names I might recognize until my finger gives out and my wrist begins to cramp, so I scroll with my other hand. I need to know. I need to find out what’s going on. I finally come across a name I recognize: John Eagleburger.

My heart sinks into my stomach. I keep scrolling until I find something local I can investigate. I type in Texas in the searchbar and find 10 different things worth investigating within a 25 mile radius. I write the addresses down, get dressed, get my mask, get my sword, and head out.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

March 4th, 2007. 4:31 AM. My bathtub.

I’m covered in blood and sweat again. I haven’t slept in three days. Only alcohol and caffeine have kept me going. In just three days… I’ve learned so much. I’ve found so much. I’ve begun to hate so much. I found an underground lab at the local university still carrying out MK Ultra experiments, just as David’s excel sheet said. I found an underground facility operating out of an abandoned laundromat that’s been around my neighborhood my entire life. It was used for Project SUNSHINE initially, but has since moved onto more… creative experiments. I found a room full of different body parts all neatly categorized and organized. All the limbs were juvenile. Even found some bodies with scars and staples around the temples. The bodies looked fine otherwise, but their heads felt just a little too light. Next room over I found a room full of brains in containers full of fluid hooked up to eyes and these bizarre visors. I looked into the console and found that all the brains were being made to watch first person war footage. David’s document alleged this facility is for some kind of super soldier training program. I’m no doctor and there’s no doctor that can save these children… I take all the videos and photos I can of the place before slaughtering all the staff, euthanizing the brains, and burning the place to the ground. The depravity unfortunately did not end there. I found four different facilities with live children. One was operating out of a warehouse, one was operating out of a storage facility I never saw anyone use, and one was operating out of an abandoned house that looked like a crack den. Some of the kids didn’t speak English or Spanish and none of them were local. Each and every one of them was apparently going to be shipped to an island called Little Saint James… just as the document said. I didn’t have any other options… I couldn’t exactly ship them back home. All I could do was collect all the evidence I could, leak it online, then turn the kids over to the authorities. I didn’t see my local police station on that document… so it should be okay. For now.

No matter how long I marinate in the bath, no matter how hard I scrub, I cannot wash the sin away.

August 14th, 2007. 11:11 PM. My sofa.

My mind has given up and my body has run dry. Two years. Two long, horrific years that have gone by in the blink of an eye. No matter how many I kill, no matter how many I save, David’s list hasn’t gotten any shorter. I need to save more people, rid my beautiful country of evil… but I have gotten sick. I don’t know if I’m infected by something from a facility I infiltrated or I’m just exhausted. Frankly, I don’t want to find out. That being said, I can’t infiltrate like this. I’d get caught and killed in a heartbeat.

I do not know how I haven’t been caught yet… Maybe I’m just that good. Maybe John is looking out for me. I haven’t been blown up yet, so clearly he must find me useful. There’s no way he doesn’t know about this. This means one of two things. Either David is wrong and John isn’t part of The Elite or there’s a lot of infighting within The Elite and I just so happen to be helping John’s faction. Thinking has become unpleasant. I wish I could just become blind to the true evil of the world once again…

Two weeks ago, in my sick drunken stupor, I came across a most peculiar show. It’s an animated show from The Far East featuring ninjas. I only started watching it because I fell asleep with the TV on, woke up, and was far too weak to fetch the remote… but I’m glad I did. There’s this character with black hair named… Sasookee? Yeah, Sasookee. He’s all alone and seeks justice… He even uses a blade. He’s just like me… Truly, he is just like me. His blade may be forged from lightning, but we’re kindred spirits.

Inspired by Sasookee, I began studying this… japanimation. So much of this art form is dedicated to young, tortured heroes overcoming adversity by training. I can mope around no longer. I must train like Sasookee. I must memorize his hand signs and start running like him with my hands behind my back. It could help me run faster. Might just save my life eventually.

ring ring

ring ring

ring ring

My phone begins to ring… Even though I unplugged it a week ago. Out of sheer curiosity, I reach out and answer the phone. “Hello.” I cough. “This is William Lloyd Cruz. How can I help you?”

“Hello, Heroboy.” Lily’s voice graces my ear. “I’ve got an offer for you.”