Missed Calls

Been so wrapped up in the new position and my failed project at the water tower that I've been neglecting Candace. She left several voice and text messages for me over the past several days. The messages had a progression from jovial to angry to worried. I finally spoke to her last night. I put on my best "human mask" and tried my hand at remorse. Apparently it worked. She quickly forgave me of my workaholic ways. She did give me a lecture on not working too hard and ignoring her. I lost count of how many times "I know" and "I'm sorry" dribbled out of my mouth. It began to feel like beating my head against the wall. I started to wonder if all this nonsense is worth my time and energy, literally making a mental pros and cons list as I spoke to her. In the end the pros won out for the biggest pro of all - she may be extremely useful as an alibi or hostage if things get out of hand.

A Bright Spot

Flipped on the news this morning to discover something interesting. Zameer Hatem hung himself in his cell last night. That's a very tidy conclusion to a loose end. I'm sure there will be riotous complaints by religious and human rights groups about the convenience of Hatem's untimely demise, but the civic leaders we'll turn a blind eye. They'll make a dog and pony show of launching an investigation but everyone will know they allowed it to happen, they wanted it to happen. Right now there's probably a group of white supremacists with a violent histories enjoying special conjugal visits compliments of their warden. It's a wonder these cattle managed to usurp the planets previous inhabitants. For all their higher learning and civilized ways they are truly the lowest of all life. I might find their antics enjoyable were I not forced to live amongst them.

Deviating from the Plan - Body Count 93

Went to do some last minute recon at the water tower last night. Things took an unexpected turn for the worse. I made my way in easily enough, but I quickly learned I wasn't alone. As I rounded the main building I came face to face with a late night worker performing some kind of testing. In retrospect I'm not sure who was more surprised. It started to blurt out something about my not being allowed in there. I stepped forward and violently drove my fist into it's throat. It fell backwards, gagging for air. I quickly moved in and snapped it's neck. Not expecting any resistance, I had come to the tower unarmed. I always find killing by hand lacks any finesse or beauty. It takes away the pure joy of the kill. Nonetheless, necessity is the mother of invention. The ground storage tank seemed to be the most logical place to dispose of the corpse. The aroma of freshly treated water stung my nostrils as I opened the hatch. The concentrated odor made it difficult to concentrate as I pushed the body inside. After wiping down the hatch I quietly vacated the premises, keeping a watchful eye out for cameras and any would be witnesses. I'm wracked with disappointment in myself. My plans have been laid to waste or at least severely delayed. I'm also upset about not carrying a blade, a mistake I'll never make again.

Drowning in a Dream

Woke up drenched in sweat early this morning. I know it was a horrible nightmare but some the details of it are a little fuzzy. I can recall drowning in an ocean of blood. That part is so vivid that the bitter, salty taste of it is still in my mouth. I tried to swim and struggle against the tides but it was no use. The waves would crash down on me, pushing me further into the depths. Just before I woke up an enormous wave rained down on me. As I tried to reemerge I could feel strong hands lock around my arms and legs, pulling me deeper into the abyss. I shot awake gagging and coughing. I had to get up. The feeling of soaked sheets against my bare flesh was enough to make my skin crawl. The television or radio didn't offer any late night solace. I tried reading for a while to no avail. An uneasy, disorienting feeling had settled upon me and I am still feeling it. That coupled with exhaustion is going to make for a long, long day.

Leg Work

Spent a better part of the weekend observing the water facility. It's amazing how easy it will be to break in and poison the well so to speak. The facility is well hidden, probably because the cattle don't want it to disturb their view. They have one rickety chain link gate at the drive monitored by a stationary camera. I could drive a fucking battleship in there and they would never know. The cattle that work at the plant appear to leave the plant to be monitored remotely during the weekend. I slipped in last night to get a better lay of the land. From what I can tell the effluent of the processing center gets stored in a water tower and a ground storage tank. There doesn't appear to be any monitoring equipment other than flow meters and level meters. Very easy to slip something in and create mass havoc. I think this has the potential to far exceed the Murphy Center project.

A Field Trip

Been so preoccupied with my new position I haven't really had time to notice my surroundings all that much. It's nice to be distracted but when I finally stopped moving yesterday it all came rushing back. The odor of the city assaulted my nose when I walked out of the office. The masses of cattle and traffic were overwhelming. My rage welled inside me. Not at the cattle though. I don't how I could have been lulled into such a sedate state. Every moment I'm docile these creatures forget their place. They forget that a predator lurks beyond every shadow. Lost in thought, I missed my stop on the train. I found myself heading towards the outskirts of the city. I had never been that far on the train. The landscape changed dramatically. The city seemed to be dying and giving way to a sprawling suburb. Trees became more prevalent and giant apartments became single family homes. I noticed something to the north of the train - a water tower. The city doesn't have any that I know of. The water all comes directly from the processing plant. As I saw the tower a wicked grin spread across my lips. I've found a new project.

Burnt Offerings

Received a late night phone call yesterday evening from my new administrative assistant. The voice on the other end of the line was trembling with fear. She had just seen on the news that the Corporate Muppet's body had been positively identified from the charred remains of a storage facility fire. A beaming smile flashed across my lips as I slid on my "human mask" and ran through a gamut of emotions. Sorrow, anger, confusion, etc. My assistant seemed to be feeding off me and we consoled each other and spoke of the "fond memories" we had of the Muppet. The facade began to wear on me after awhile. My assistant took that as my needing to be alone with my thoughts. Actually an astute observation, just not for the reasons she believed. After I hung up I quickly turned on the television to watch the developing story. A certain glee came over me as the reporters interviewed police who are utterly stumped at what they've discovered. I can't wait to see what kind of tale they spin to make this seem plausible. I'm guessing something like a drug deal gone bad. That seems to be their fall back stance.

Return to Form - Body Count 92

Went to the Loop last night. I hadn't been in weeks. With so many other places to stalk the cattle I find it curious that I'm compelled to return there. Perhaps it's the proximity to the university. A chance to stunt the growth of the vermin before they reach adulthood. Regardless, I found myself there late last evening. The streets were still alive with activity even though the school year has been out for well over a month. Pretentious "scholars" and "free thinkers" still crowd into the coffee shops to fawn over the dribble that some asshole claims are the "words of his soul". The local clubs still have bands that draw in the mindless drones that think the best music in the world is the shit they hear in movies and commercials. I wasn't in the mood for coffee, so I decided on a club. Always plenty of cattle in those places that need to die. I paid the $15 cover at a place called the Panama Lounge. It was the typical horrible rock club - dim lights, expensive drinks, ridiculous P.A. system, a sheen of liquid covering every square inch of the floor - except it had murals of palm trees painted on the concrete walls. The place was packed when I walked in. Hundreds of cattle crammed together to watch some band called The Beer Coaster Conspiracy. It was the typical Nirvana rip off with a whiny ass singer screaming about how it's girlfriend left. I could feel a migraine start to build pressure and pulse behind my eyes. Needing to quench my desire quickly I decided to forgo a finesse killing. I moved in close to a group of cattle dressed in black clothing with dyed black hair. Surely I could have the slaughtered them all and they wouldn't have been missed. I settled on the one closest to me. It was small and rather stationary, not moving to the "music" like the others. Stealthily I slid my blade out, it's carbon fiber blade not reflecting any light. As the lights went out for the next song I quickly stepped forward and drove the knife deeply into it's back, just below the ribcage. I removed the blade and melted into the crowd before the lights came up. The black clad cattle were oblivious to what happened and ignored my victim as it fell to the ground. I watch for a few minutes as it laid on the ground, helplessly being trampled into the ground. I slinked away quietly and returned home without incident. I awoke this morning feeling revived and more alive than I have in a long while.

Reaping the Fruits of Labor

Moved into my corner office this morning. I had some cattle from maintenance remove all of the Muppets crap. He won't be needing it anymore. It's nice to have such a large space to work in, far from the prying eyes of the meandering drones that surround me. The office has floor to ceiling windows on two walls. I have a bird's eye view of the heart of the city. I'm going to have to install shades. Looking down on the wretches below for hours at time will nauseate me. On the plus side, from my vantage point I can see for miles beyond the city. I can see clear sky behind the blight the cattle have imprinted around me. I sent Candace an email to tell her of my good fortune. She was excited wants to take me out to celebrate this evening. I gave her a noncommittal answer. Everything with her is becoming mundane. We've fallen into a set pattern and it's beginning to distract me from my true work. It may be time to cut her loose.

A Turn of Events

Had a meeting with some big wig cattle at the office this afternoon. With the Corporate Muppet still missing they have decided to replace him. My name was apparently at the top of a short list. According to them my qualifications are impeccable. My education and work experience are paramount. In short, I'm their ideal monkey. They pull my strings and I jump through hoops for them. I was conflicted for a moment before I gave them my decision. I have no desire to be a puppet for them or anyone else. I refuse to subjugate myself to the rule of corporate underlings. On the other hand, they are going to die in a short while anyway so I might as well take advantage of the corner office and substantial raise. I had to smile and laugh as I signed the contract. The cattle laughed as well. I guess they thought I was relishing in joining their club. Really I was laughing at the fact that murder is the easiest way to get ahead in the corporate world.

Dreams of the Dead

The fucking rain here is unbelievable. It never, ever stops. I woke up last night to the sound of thunder. I had been having a horrible nightmare with my parents. They looked very much as they did in the days before their accident. Dad with his usual grimace and disgusted look permanently carved on his features. Mom with her shallow, over joyfulness. Even all these years later that fake cheeriness turns my stomach. My parents were expecting company, some sort of family gathering. I wanted nothing to do with it and walked away from them. My father grabbed my shoulder from behind and spun me around, catching me with a left hook in the process. My face ignited with pain and blood. Through my swelling eyes I could see Mom look down at me and quickly turn away as if she hadn't seen anything. Dad was standing over me with his fists clenched in rage ready to strike at me again. He bellowed for me to get my ass up and help my mother. I pulled myself off the floor and staggered into the kitchen. I fumbled a butcher knife from the block and drove the blade into Mom. I didn't stop until the hilt reached her spine. She began to choke on her blood. It poured from her mouth like a waterfall. I turned and grabbed another knife and lunged at my father who was stunned into paralysis. The tip tore easily into his soft stomach. I pulled the blade out and repeatedly drove it into his torso. When I finally let his lifeless body slump to the floor I realized I was surrounded by family. After watching me brutally murder my parents they began to ask me how school was going and if I had chosen a college yet. What was I going to major in? Did I have a girlfriend? Why didn't I call Grandma on her birthday? Why don't I spend more time with my cousins? I started to stab at them violently but they wouldn't die. Their voices kept calling at me, droning on until they became an insufferable din.

Unexpected Encounter

Spent the holiday weekend with Candace and her family. I was not prepared for that and was more than a little pissed when she sprang that on me Friday evening. I put on my best "human mask" and diligently played the part of the doe eyed boyfriend. Her parents were gracious hosts, if not a little too friendly. Their home is a shrine to their children and grandchildren. It was quite sickening to see such glee and pride as they prattled on and on about their progeny. Her sister showed up with the daughter that survived the blast. I have to admit it was a double edged sword seeing the girl. On the one hand it was a glaring reminder of the blast failing to meet my expectations. On the other knowing the amount of sheer torture the girl suffered at my figurative hands was practically narcotic. It was more than a little difficult to maintain my composure around her. There were other cattle roaming around the house that claim kinship with Candace but they were of no consequence to me. Just a bunch of idiot parents and little hooligan bastard offspring running around screaming and playing with explosives. By Sunday I began plotting constructing a bomb from the arsenal of fireworks housed in the garage. The entire weekend was reminiscent of the horrid family functions perpetrated by my parents before their untimely demise. One thing became abundantly clear to me this weekend - Candace will never part from these cattle.

4th of July

Took off early from the office today. That place is still utter chaos from the police investigation and I wasn't getting anything done. Candace sent me an email about doing something together this weekend. I'm supposed to meet her when she gets off work later. On my train ride home I spied Mirror Man in the next car. An anger welled up inside me at the sight of him. His slight and his arrogance flashed before my mind. Right there I decided it was time to kill him. When the train pulled into the Galleria Mirror Man got off and I took up pursuit. We played our game of cat mouse, weaving through the holiday weekend crowds. Massive amounts of cattle were buying fireworks. The one time of the year when it's legal to set off explosives and they run out to purchase the equivalent of 12 sticks of dynamite. I do relish in reading the gruesome stories of accidents that accompany each 4th of July. The cattle actually pay for the opportunity to help me in my cause. After traversing through the crowds I followed Mirror Man towards a two-story garage. He boarded the elevator and I ran up the stairs to surprise him, but when the doors opened the elevator was empty. I searched feverishly through the garage, sure that he was behind every turn waiting to ambush me. But my efforts proved to be fruitless. I never found him. I headed back to the train, keeping an eye out for Mirror Man but he never resurfaced.

Short Lived Bliss

Being without the Corporate Muppet has made for a productive and enjoyable work environment these past few days. Unfortunately, the police had to get involved sooner than I would have liked. Interviews were conducted throughout the day for all employees. The cops are intensely searching for the Muppet. They seemed to be very concerned about the incineration of its house. Again, the cattle have amazed me. They have murderers and rapists galore in this city and the authorities are concentrating their efforts in investigating a potential insurance fraud. Apparently it's better to go after the easy criminals rather than try for the dangerous ones. Is it any wonder that I despise them so? With the looming threat of someone defrauding a multi billion dollar corporate conglomerate for a few hundred thousand dollars, I wonder how long it will take them to connect a burned down house to two dead bodies and a seemingly random fire at a storage facility. I heard some grumblings through the office that corporate hire ups have already starting looking into the possibility of replacing the Muppet.