My Fellow Inmates,
I would like to present to you a whole new type of tale. A Love Novel of Furries, Rubber Puppies, Death, Bondage & Retaliation.
Its currently 300 pages long...
As I get to editing the chapters I will share more...
But for now.... lets begin....
Senator Joseph Chamberlain
Chairman Special Congressional Investigatory Commission
I will first have to ask you to forgive me for the accounts you are about to read, and my actions in response described herein are truly evil. I understand this now, for although the chemical restraints can alleviate my emotional turmoil, the blood of my crimes shall forever stain my soul.
I have thought long and hard on this matter, Senator, and I am afraid that I am going to have to decline your offer. Though the mentions of immunity are truly appreciated, My father raised to believe that no matter what happens in the ethereal plane, it is only a matter of time before I will be judged by a higher court than even appointable by you, and on that day my crimes will not be yours to forgive.
I have decided, as I am sure you have been advised, to cooperate in any manor necessary to aid in your investigation into this matter to ensure that no one else gets hurt, and that justice finds the proper criminals accountable for their actions no matter how far up the chain they may fall. It may be a bit foolish of me, but if there is even the slightest chance that my salvation may lie in righting the wrongs I have wrought, then I am going to grasp at every chance I get to do so. For that, I thank you for allowing me this chance to tell my tale.
It all began for me about ten years ago, I was young and unaware. Circumstances forced me under the guidance of influential people who persuaded me into the belief that there was such thing as a ‘sensible’ response to a senseless action. I followed blindly, conditioned from a young age to strive for the greatness and glory of a pawn, never to want for more.
I often wonder why it seems that no one listened when Mary Shelly explained what happens when you attempt to tamper with nature’s design. Are we foolish enough to believe that another human life, with individual thoughts and ideals, can ever be considered one hundred percent loyal? That this supposedly lesser form will never ask questions, never dream, never learn the truth, and by doing so never turn on those that hold control?
I can understand that you might find my ramblings a little hard to follow or comprehend, and for this I must apologize, but please keep in mind that you have no idea of who I am or what I am truly capable of. Rest assured, Senator, that no one, not even I, had any idea of the kind of lust for vindication that even a small taste of death’s delicious delights can incite within the heart.
Medical science shows that severe emotional trauma can truly change a man. Night into day, black into white, Jekyll into Hyde sort of thing. Early sociological experiments, that some would have us believe ended over fifty years ago, proved this so effectively that it made the condemnation of the Third Reich the worldwide bandwagon of the times. Horrors that, long after we proudly proclaimed Nazism to be a neutralized threat, have been blatantly perpetuated by many regimes without intervention or even the slightest hint of media damnation.
Why is that?
The tortures at Abu Ghraib were only considered an embarrassment because the security was lax enough to allow someone to slip through with a camera. Can you honestly say that if the media nipple had not popped out, to this day similar treatment of prisoners would be considered anything more than standard operating procedure? I find it funny how the American Monarchy has always seemed more interested in beautifying the field on the next block over than dealing with the poisonous weeds growing in their own back yard. After all, it is our own governmental branches seeding the property.
No, It is easier the shape perception by controlling the truth, and thereby controlling the populous.
The way I see it, the human mind is constructed similarly to that of a well-crafted bomb. Everyone has that one button, that one line that once crossed can transform a law abiding nobody in to a psychopath hell-bent on revenge. Everyone, end of story. How about you Senator? Have you ever considered that thought? What in your life is so precious to you that, if removed, only blood will repair the damage that has been done?
Believe you me Death loves to talk; Thanatos, Mortis, the Grim Reaper, whatever you wish to call him, he is potentially the greatest and the most persuasive of problem solvers, yet his solutions never tend to be pretty.
Does this all sound unreasonable, possibly a bit paranoid, or delusional? Perhaps, yet I heard those voices on that day, as I watched Jonathan struggle for air, for his life, while he was being brutally raped, and at that moment those voices were making perfect fucking sense.
Next Chapter Soon
With That,Visiting Time Is Over.
What Ever You Do Don't Scream Too Loud As Others Are Trying To Sleep.