Sunday, September 2, 2012


Here lies a friend
Entombed in the insecurities of the present,
Hunted by the mistakes of the past,
Haunted by the spirit of inevitability,
Chased by the ghost of his abandonment.
He chose his path like the best of men
And left us here to mourn.

My hand sang his eulogy
With blade and needle
My vengeance finished
His will be done.

We lay his spirit to rest today
For we have no body to bury.
We sing of his end now
For we lay his aggressors with him.
We entrust him to his god
For we can do no more for him.

My hand writes his eulogy
With paper, ink, and blood
And so I end our mourning here
There are yet more to drag to hell.

Goodnight, Thomas Blake
May your god be kind to your likeness.

- Have a Nice Day

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Audio Log: 3/7/2012 1:59 pm

Transcription of manual audio log beginning 1:59 pm

This is Doctor Alexander T. Birchman of Kale Facility. I have lost all communication with my satellite offices, and my second in command was killed in the fall of Northe Facility. Knowing who is organizing this, I probably have less than an hour.

I am sending this will to any colleagues who are still alive after the fall of Kale and Northe. Do not ever leave your facilities unprotected. We here at Kale thought that our secrecy would protect us and we were wrong. We lost one of our own to [REDACTED] and he has singlehandedly exterminated my subordinates and, I believe, also contributed to the obliteration of Northe. He is not to be trusted, and he has proven himself to be an enemy of the Good Doctor.

His name is [REDACTED]. He trained with us for [REDACTED]. The evidence points to him defecting to [REDACTED] and acting as [REDACTED], much in the same vein as his prior employment in our organization. He now goes under the name "The Advisor." I believe him to also be fully armed and capable of [REDACTED].

The attempt to stop #5290 has met with failure. I do not know why, and I urge the MPD personnel who receive this to not explore this avenue of research. Further experiments on The Choir and other beings should not continue. Dabbling with these kinds of things can only lead us to destruction. This business has caused the Good Doctor to forsake us. He didn't relieve Doctor Anderson. He wasn't there for the members of Northe Facility. They were all left to the Newborn and [REDACTED].

Oh god, it is here now. I've got to sen


Day 13

Today was the final siege. A 20-something story building on the north side of town, serving as the Timberwolves' headquarters and last bastion. This last time I didn't go in alone. Not because it's suicide, but because I decided that this last battle was more for the better of the group than my own personal gain. I lead a platoon of several dozen coworkers in a direct assault against the building. To tell the truth, it was quite a sight, both from the front lines and from inside the fortress. The mottled army forming the attacking lines, and the masked army defending. The images of the gods interspersed throughout the struggle, influencing the rabble one way or the other, with no one side ever gaining a true advantage.

This was the chaos they wished to sow, and for now it was working in my favor. I knew where to go, where the leader was hiding, and with the battle outside distracting the footsoldiers, I made my progress relatively unimpeded. When I reached the floor I was looking for, I chanced a final glimpse of the fray, and saw ringed around the conflict the gods that had a direct contribution to the fight. The Archangel, the Plague Doctor, The Cold Boy, and the gods that my appearance attracted stood outside and watched as my associates and the Timberwolves continued fighting one another, with the Rake, the Smiling Man, and other uninterested parties killing as they saw fit. Never once did I see one of the gods ringing the struggle lift a finger, neither to kill nor to protect. They simply watched.

With this image in my head, I walked down the hallway where in the fifth room on the left was a locked door. A swift kick later revealed a relatively old man clad in a black leather jacket and a rather nice office with a perfect view of the struggle. I crossed the threshold and rain began to fall on the strife outside. The man made many pleas for his life, and mumbled out some very amusing arguments trying to convince me of his worth as a human, of his ties to his god, of the wrath of the afterlife awaiting me for this transgression, and of his innocence with regards to my friend.

I opened the window for a bit of fresh air. The rain was falling steadily now, beginning to soak the soldiers and their gods, and the smell of the oncoming storm wafted up into the office and cleared out the scent of blood. The severed head of the leader made a delightful crack as it fell seventeen stories and landed on the filter of one of his former subordinates. I turned around to begin my descent back down to the ground floor to help finish off the last of the Timberwolves. By the time I exited the building, all the gods had left, except for the only two that mattered. When the last of the gas-masked defenders had fallen, the Archangel disappeared, and my coworkers celebrated the victory like they usually do.

I'm currently at Thomas' house, the original warzone. Nothing has changed, and I highly doubt anything will. Trash and insanity litter the rooms and the smell of death lingers stronger than ever. Outside, the battle was won, but in here it was lost, and nothing I can do will be able to change that.

I guess the best thing to do before I leave the city is put that body in the bedroom underground. Anything to help me think that Thomas is happier in the Archangel's embrace.

- Have a Nice Day

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Document B-5290

January 20 - I got a present from the higher-ups today, they let me keep one of the successful runs from the 5000 test group. Paper says his name is Thomas Blake, designation #5290, and he's quite the catch. A shady past, a request for a specific kind of amnesiac at the end of the tests, beautiful reaction to the vodka test. Oh yes, I'm glad I'll get to personally oversee one of these without the MPD breathing down my neck every step of the way.

January 21 - Mild letdown today, I'm required to have a co-administrator for these tests. Doctor Engels shouldn't be too much of a wet blanket, but I was really looking forward to organizing this personally.

January 22 - Administered the amnesiac today. Nothing of note happened and everything went beautifully. Patient lost everything before 10 years of age and everything from the last month or so. I think we'll continue observing him for a few more weeks or so here at the hospital.

February 2, 2011 - Finally getting used to writing the correct year on these things. I also think we've found a solution to the little housing problem. Blake seems to have taken quite a shining to his nurse, so maybe we can use that to our advantage.

February 4, 2011 - Decided against inducting the nurse as a new Doctor. Instead, we'll administer a mild series of drugs, and hope that everything falls the way we want it to.

February 7, 2011 - Luck is with us here, everything went swimmingly. We're discharging Blake this afternoon, and he's going to live with his favorite nurse. This should make it a lot easier to keep tabs on him than we originally planned for. Testing should begin soon, once Engels and I can get a decent hold on the various aspects of the real world test.

March 6, 2011 - All the variables are under control, and we're finally ready to start the tests. Going to work on the alcohol facet first, since that has given us the most consistent results so far. To begin, we're going to have him invited to a little soiree his boss is throwing. Hopefully there will only be just enough there to get him buzzed, and not full-on drunk.

March 11, 2011 - Results were consistent with previous lab runs. He showed signs of mild obfuscation, it seems like individual words or phrases may have been changed, but apparently not enough to set him off. We're going to count this as a successful run, but we really need to find a way to better document the exact obfuscation that's happening.

April 3, 2011 - Doctor Anderson tells me that Blake's becoming more irritable lately. I'm not sure whether that is related to the Choir, or if that's just normal life problems.

April 13, 2011 - Submitted a series of test requests today, hoping to move this test forward faster. I think we can skip a lot of the intermediate tests if we can find a way to pinpoint exactly what's being changed.

May 23, 2011 - FINALLY got a response about the request I sent in more than a month ago. Most of the requests were denied, which I expected, but they approved quite a few strange tests. Including a few possibilities for documenting the obfuscation. Going to run this by Anderson and Engels and see what we're going to try first.

June 1, 2011 - We've narrowed down the list to a few contenders. Might try combining the direct oversight idea with the blog. Not entirely sure, yet.

June 4, 2011 - Time's drawing near to implement the July plan, and we still can't decide on the right observation method. We may have to go forward briefly on a temporary solution.

June 15, 2011 - Decided that the July plan will go forward on direct oversight while we work out the details for future projects. This would be so much easier if I didn't have to go through Engels and the higher ups.

July 1, 2011 - Still haven't made a solid decision regarding how we're going forward yet. This is getting very, very frustrating. The July plan is going forward as planned, and I've got a tech out there keeping an eye on everything for me.

July 5, 2011 - My tech tells me that everything went as well as we hoped. Blake got drunk out of his mind, got into a fight, ignored his friends, and even turned on them at one point before passing out and waking up this morning acting normally. We now have solid evidence that heavy inebriation does not lead to a full possession, and we even collected a few snippets that help support our case for continuing inebriation runs. Resubmitting some of my ideas for approval and working on wearing down Engels and Anderson so we can get past this damned roadblock.

July 17, 2011 - Anderson agreed to bend to my direct oversight plan, but Engels is still holding up on his stupid blog plan.

August 19, 2011 - It's become painfully obvious that Engels will not back down, so I've bent to his compromise. The next few months will be spent preparing Blake for Engels' ridiculous plan. Joy.

November 13, 2011 - The preparations are finally over, just in time for the December plan, too. Anderson will go through with Engels' retarded idea, while keeping a direct eye on Blake and anything he might say. God, this is annoying.

January 1, 2011 - We finally have proof of the extent of the Choir's influence on Blake while heavily inebriated. We have a direct changing of words, as well as a general obfuscation of a situation in general. After a year of this shit, we're finally getting some results.

January 15, 2011 2012 - This is bad, we're getting evidence of a lingering obfuscation. I've advised Anderson to prescribe some CH-139 to try and counteract the influence. Hopefully it'll be enough to squeeze out a few more tests.

January 25, 2012 - Anderson screwed up royally this time. Not only has he put this project in jeopardy, he's also endangered our agreement with Dereck. Blake was unintentionally given one of the Timberwolves' seed bottles instead of the commercial bottles, and he seems to have an aversion to it. We should be fine so long as he can be persuaded to just take the medicine. Thankfully Doctor Engels had an emergency meeting at the Northe Facility to attend, so I have full control of the project now.

February 1, 2012 - The time has come to cut our losses, I believe. I can't contact Engels, so I'm going ahead and authorizing the use of an MPD product from the very same test group Blake was a part of. He will succumb to the Choir, his blog will end, and maybe we can minimize the backlash this has caused us.

February 3, 2012 - Northe Facility was destroyed. Wiped completely off the map. Almost 200 servants of the Good Doctor along with innumerable pieces of technology and information were taken by upwards of fifteen simultaneous instances of the Manufactured Newborn. Engels is dead, and this seems too big to be a random Newborn attack. For once, I'm thankful that the Midwest facilities operate under complete secrecy.

February 14, 2012 - Anderson tells me that the MPD product was successfully administered. Hopefully we can rest a little easier in a few weeks.

February 20, 2012 - Blake is still alive. This isn't right, not at all. And now that Anderson has pointed it out to me, this anonymous commenter on Blake's blog is certainly saying some strange things. I think I'm going to keep a closer eye on this thing.

March 5, 2012 - I think I know who this Advisor is. I hope I'm wrong, and I can't really take it to my higher-ups without some solid proof. [REDACTED]

March 7, 2012 - I've lost contact with Anderson's building. I know how this person works, and I know there's probably not much time for me, with him as rushed as he is. I'm going to try and warn the higher-ups of this. I'm sending this document to my immediate higher-up and I'm revising my will to send to any of my colleagues that are still out there. [REDACTED]

- Dr. Alexander Birchman

Blood on my hands

It's been so long since I've sullied a uniform like this. I remember the days when I could go through a coat a week like this. And when I would have to go back to base to turn in a sweaty brown mess of a coat for a clean, white uniform. Must have been only a year or two ago, but it still seems so far back. Has it really been that long since my last truly messy operation?

But this is different, isn't it? Different coat, different colors, different textures. I used to relish the feel of a well-used uniform, but this just feels disgusting and sad. I've ruined a perfectly nice uniform running around like the angel of fucking death. I need to reign myself in, this is unacceptable. This is not what I should be doing for Thomas, but if I'm going to do it, then I should do it cleanly, mercifully. But that isn't exactly an option anymore, I don't think. I've missed my last chance at a humane operation today.

There is one building left. We know where you are, you know where we've been, and what we're sitting on. We both know the odds, and we both know how this must end. No loose ends.

I'm going to get a fresh uniform, and then we will go through one last mess of a facility before turning our attention on you, Dereck.

Enjoy your last hours of life, and

- Have a Nice Day

Monday, August 27, 2012

Audio Log: 1/25/12 10:43 am

Phone call received from known source #122, transcription is as follows:

Sender: Umm… Dr. Birchman?

Receiver: Dr. Anderson! How nice to hear from you. How is our patient doing?

S: He’s fine, Doctor Birchman. But... We... We might have a problem.

R: Oh? What sort of problem might we have?

S: Oh. Uhh… You remember those pills you told us to give the patient?

R: Yes, I distinctly remember telling you to give the patient a bottle of CH-139... Please don't tell me you gave him the wrong medicine.

S: No, no, no, Doctor Birchman. He got the CH-139. It’s just… We may have given him a seed bottle.

R: You had a seed in your office? That’s not exactly allowed, Dr. Anderson.

S: Forgive me, Dr. Birchman. I like to keep a seed of every medication we have. For emergencies, you know? It was a fresh box, and it just slipped my mind to separate the seed from the rest of the bottles.

R: I fail to see the problem here. So he has a seed bottle. It should work just as efficiently as the others.

S: That’s not quite it, Dr. Birchman…

R: Well get on with it! I don’t exactly have all day!

S: Well, the patient didn’t like the pills. He seemed to be scared of them, he acted adversely to them when we gave him the bottle. We worry that he might inspect the bottle before taking any of the medication, and he might find the stamp on the inside of the seed and make it public somehow.

R: Why wouldn't he just ignore it?

S: Our evaluations lead us to believe that he'd... umm... ask for help from the people following his blog.

R: Oh right, his blog. I almost forgot about that thing. Who's he attracted to that online diary, anyway? Anybody we should worry about?

S: Umm, well, there's proxiehunter and a few others, but I'm worrying that there are some other psychiatrists watching his blog as well.

R: So you’re worried he will find the stamp, put it on his little blog, and then everybody will know your associations with the Good Doctor.

S: Well, yeah. I don't want to be put out of a job, you know.

R: You don’t see any other possible implications here to worry about?

S: Umm… No?

R: Not like, say, having our little agreement with the Timberwolves being made public? Do you realize that if that stamp gets out, there will inevitably be a paper trail leading right to us? And even if we evade the more perceptive runners, we’ll most certainly lose the support of Dereck’s little band of drug dealers?

S: What, you're worried about those ruffians?! Listen, I don’t know what you and Doctor Engels see in them, but I don’t think it would be that hard to synthesize the damn drugs without their seeds! Why you choose to rely on them is beyond me. I don’t trust their dirty gang as far as I could throw them!

R: We’ve been over this before, Mister Anderson. Trade with Dereck is beneficial to the both of us.

S: Yeah, we get their drugs, and they get our machines to manufacture new compounds. Whoop-de-doo. Why can’t we just take a few bottles of seed and figure out how to make them ourselves, instead of wasting the seeds on their ridiculous ideas!

R: I don’t expect you to understand the nuances of the agreement, Anderson. But you have been told time and time again that Doctor Engels and I hold the interests of our group foremost in our minds. We do only what is best for-

S: Best for who? You, us, the Good Doctor? You’re lining your pockets with the Timberwolves’ cash, and using the rest of us as a meat shield when the shit hits the fan.

R: Mister Anderson, there are more important things than your petty wants. Furthermore, you will have more to worry about than the supposed psychiatrists watching the blog if that stamp makes it onto that blog. I will personally see to it that you will work cleanup on whatever mess forms, and then I will make sure that you contract a particularly bad strain of mono when this all blows over. Do you understand me, Anderson?

S: ... Yes, Doctor Birchman.

R: Good. Then go back to your job. And contact me if anything happens, I want to be the first to know if this turns sour.

Connection terminated by receiver.

Day 8

I have a mantra (a lot of mantras, actually), but the one applicable for today is "Always stay busy."

I am unlike most people in that I don't mind busy Mondays, and in fact, I believe that a hectic Monday will make the rest of the week go by smoothly. I haven't been proven wrong yet, except in the few cases where shit hit the fan, and I tend to overlook those as a rule. don't want outliers ruining the spread, and all that.

But dear me, was today busy. I daresay my prey may be learning a little, or maybe they're just paranoid. Or crazy, who knows. Anyway my initial push wasn't as effective as my last siege. Last time, the entire facility was down after a few minutes of gas. This time, I had to deal with nutjobs wearing gas masks. Thankfully, none of them were really bad, and most of them were already down anyway.

In retrospect they were probably just crazy. But I'm going to assume that the rest of them are reading this and will make that a rule. No problems with me, I was getting tired of beheading sleeping people anyway.

But yeah, another building down, another dozen or two killed. Thankfully it should get much easier after this point, since we now have the spread to track any stragglers out on the streets. So keep your eyes open and

- Have a Nice Day