> Target: RPC-377
> Head: Dr. █████
<Begin Log>
[Muffled voices obscured by radio chatter. Laughter.]
RPC-377-SE5: Wha…
[RPC-377-SE5 mumbles groggily. His exact words are unclear.]
RPC-377-SE5:Where… where the fuck have you taken me?
[Silence.]
[Heavy breathing can be heard, interrupted by a ripping sound.]
RPC-377-SE5: See something you like, huh? My face pretty, is it?
Surveyor Sarren: You're really that young, aren’t you.
RPC-377-SE5: Old enough.
Surveyor Sarren: Can't be older than seventeen.
RPC-377-SE5: Haven't been a kid in years, dickface. What, you one of them old rich fucks who likes little pricks? I’ve always heard stories of you glowers, hands half in the government. Old Mayor of this fuckin’ town was like that too. You like him? Like your meat fresh and- Fuck!
[Surveyor Sarren smacks RPC-377-SE5’s face. Audible pain can be heard over the recording.]
Surveyor Sarren: What were you doing with the drugs?
RPC-377-SE5: W-what?
Surveyor Sarren: Manna-5, they’re calling it now? You were transporting a cache somewhere when my people intercepted you. When I intercepted you.
RPC-377-SE5: Listen man, it was my last job. No hard feelings. It'll be easier for the both of us if you just, let-
[Slamming sound.]
RPC-377-SE5: Christ, fuck-
[A chair is dragged closer to the recording output. Surveyor Sarren presumably is seated now.]
Surveyor Sarren: Listen, Sam, was it? I work for some very, very important people. I understand: you’re young, you’re afraid. We just need information.
RPC-377-SE5: I already gave you all the shit I knew, what more do you want? Cops came knocking my door down a week ago, had a warrant. I was- I fuckin’ did what you asked, what more do you-
[The chair scrapes on the floor.]
RPC-377-SE5: Hey hey hey! Stop, this- Wait… you aren't them. Are you- are you fuckin’ ATF?
[Surveyor Sarren gives no answer.]
[RPC-377-SE5 starts laughing.]
RPC-377-SE5: Oh, God. This is rich. This is- this is great.
Surveyor Sarren: Done?
RPC-377-SE5: Depends. You still gonna hit me?
Surveyor Sarren : I’m not ATF, if that’s what you’re worried about.
RPC-377-SE5: ATF's small shit. But you aren't them either, thank fuck.
Surveyor Sarren: What. 'Them'?
RPC-377-SE5: Promise me. Promise me you won’t- you won’t go tellin’ the police 'bout me. About this. Give me protection. Then I'll talk all you want.
Surveyor Sarren: Not my Division.
RPC-377-SE5: Christ man. They’ve been holding shit over my head for months. Police are rotten in this town. Just- just give me a free one. Please?
[Silence.]
Surveyor Sarren: I’ll talk with the others. See what I can do.
[RPC-377-SE5 exhales shakily, fingers tapping on the table.]
Surveyor Sarren: So. Manna-5.
RPC-377-SE5: He told me not to tell anyone about that.
Surveyor Sarren: Whoever he is, He is not here.
RPC-377-SE5: Scarier people than you run this damn town, suit-man. I've spent too long making sure this little piggy's not stuck on a spit when the wolves blow the house in to forget that.
Surveyor Sarren: Scarier people than me could have you right now. The police, for one. If I were in your position when I was your age, I'd have been grateful.
RPC-377-SE5: You were a…
Surveyor Sarren: A dealer. Bit different, but yes. Let's just say I got a second chance.
RPC-377-SE5: Me. Will I get one like you did?
Surveyor Sarren: Depends on your cooperation.
RPC-377-SE5: Cooperation, cooperation. That's all it is to you, isn't it. 'Cooperation'.
[RPC-377-SE5 snorts.]
[Dial tones ring as someone punches numbers into a landline.]
Surveyor Sarren: I have the police on dial. Everything I said before stands. I would. Be. Grateful.
RPC-377-SE5: Christ. You really are playing that game, aren't you.
[Silence.]
[RPC-377-SE5 grunts, sighing. The sound of a chair creaking can be heard on-record.]
RPC-377-SE5: Guess I should uh, start in highschool then. A year, two years back? Feels like a lifetime. Used to be a top student, took my tests, went to church, did what the teachers told me. I was a goody-two shoes to the core - parents were goin' on and on about how I'd do so well in the mission trips up north after high school. But…
[A pause. RPC-377-SE5 trails off, humming.]
Surveyor Sarren: It never felt that way under the surface. You were what they wanted you to be, and you resented that.
RPC-377-SE5: Yeah. Sounds about right… hey, how'd you know that?
Surveyor Sarren: Talk.
RPC-377-SE5: Fine. There were these people I’d been seeing. Cool people. Now, I may have been all perfect on the outside, but inside I'd always been, well, struggling. Got worse later on. Grew up. Dad took me to a shrink before he died, they said I had anger issues. Dyslexia. He didn't believe them, of course - my dad's a religious man, see, and he always had too much faith in me to believe I was the source of my problems. So he takes me to a pastor, for 'councilling'. We'd known Pastor Pete for a long time, family friend and all - but in the help-room, it's a different story. He went all apeshit, threatening to 'beat the demons out of me'. Dunked me in water multiple times. Craziest man I've met, and I've met plenty of crazy people.
RPC-377-SE5: My grades started slipping with the sessions worse than they'd been already. Nothing big, but enough. Area 'round my house got more dangerous, too. Living in the Narrows does that shit to you, does that to anyone. S’not a place for kids to be. My friends though…
RPC-377-SE5: My friends didn’t care about all that shit, see? They gave me stuff. Nothing big, you know. Weed. Booze. Just- teenager stuff. But it felt good. It made me feel wanted. Round this time there were a lotta tall stories runnin' about. Tommy Green and his fuckboy ass friends always talkin', on and on about wild parties at the edge of town in the woods by the creek. A new drug that made you a 'god'. I didn’t put stock in rumors at first, especially the ones that came out of his mouth of all people. Always prided myself as something of a 'rationalist', for whatever good it did me.
[RPC-377-SE5 chuckles, breathing softly.]
Surveyor Sarren: And then?
RPC-377-SE5: Life, I guess. Dad died. Grades went down the shitter. On the bright side, I didn't have to stop by the church anymore. In everything else though I just… spiraled. Started skipping school, eventually stopped going altogether. Got into fights with my grandma. Don’t remember much from that time, but my friends - they were there for me. One day, they told me to come with them to the bonfire outside town. I hadn’t been there before, always had school. But I had time now, so I was like, fuck it, you know?
[Surveyor Sarren does not reply. RPC-377-SE5 continues.]
RPC-377-SE5: I barely remember shit from the time I spent by the fire. Good times always blur. All that really stuck was the feelings, the company. With those I could forget for a little bit, lose myself in that… that warmth. Unconditional warmth. Didn't even know why I didn't question it when he came by one night. Had a mask on, like you know the ones you see in museums. Indian shit. Had antlers, too. My friends called him Ol' Jimmy, said he traveled from the north, up by the Lakes past the big city. He had gifts with him too.
Surveyor Sarren: ‘Gifts’?
RPC-377-SE5: In the back of his pickup. See, Jimmy had a way with words. Was just one gift, really: Manna-5. A shitload of it.
[Surveyor Sarren whistles.]
Surveyor Sarren: You remember the license plate? Car-model?
RPC-377-SE5: It was always too dark. Don’t think he had any of those fancy plates either. He seemed like one of those tinfoil nutters. Didn’t trust no government shit.
Surveyor Sarren: This Jimmy character, you ever see his face?
RPC-377-SE5: Course I couldn’t, he always had that fuckin’ mask on. He was tall, though. Tall and thin. Wore rustic clothes, farmer's shit: suspenders, flannel, you know the gist. Old man clothes. Looked nothing like the usual suit types you'd see comin' south from Chicago either. His hands, though… they were always clean, no calluses. Cut fingernails, fingers soft as a baby’s bottom.
Surveyor Sarren: You think he was lying.
RPC-377-SE5: Far more about him was a mask than the shit on his face, that’s for fuckin’ sure.
Surveyor Sarren: Carry on.
RPC-377-SE5: I was blind. Angry. Angry people do stupid shit. I didn’t like Jimmy, didn’t buy into his crap, but you know how… when you're fucked up, you need someone who gets you? Someone who looks at all your bullshit, takes a step back and says 'fuck that, I'll be nice to you anyway'? That's how Jimmy was, back then. 'Nice'. Said he understood me. He'd lost someone too. I didn’t take any hard Manna at first. Just small doses, a couple mg, solid form. It was enough for some good trips. Before long, I think I was addicted to the shit. Numbed the mind, you know - fuck all the risks, I kept telling myself. But then…
Surveyor Sarren: He had something bigger, didn't he.
RPC-377-SE5: You'd bet he did. Had a syringe this time, full of blue shit. He told me I could talk to my Dad again. My Dad, man. That I- I could see past all the stars in the sky, and find the part of me that was hidden. I might be a rationalist, but - I was broken, man. People like me, we-we only got so much shit going for us before we start reachin' for things we can’t understand. I… I… where was I?
Surveyor Sarren: You couldn’t understand?
RPC-377-SE5: Oh, right. There was a burning feeling when I injected. Like my body had been ran over by a semi. And- and I know how that feels. Had an accident a few years back with a motorbike. Can’t use my right hand anymore because of it. It fucking hurts.
RPC-377-SE5: This was different though. It was odd, feeling so happy while my entire body was on fire. I saw this, huge hexagon in the sky, a red light inside it on top of a… pyramid. Creatures… angels, really. Angels of crystal were movin' around me, things drifting in a city made of trees. They spoke to me, all soft like it was a secret. They spoke to me with my- with my… my dad’s voice.
Surveyor Sarren: You said your father was dead, correct?
RPC-377-SE5: Wh- of course he’s dead. It doesn’t change what I fucking heard! It’s a damn dream, anyway. Fuckin’ Jimmy was a liar. Know it now, at least, for whatever good it gives me.
[A pause. Room fills with silence.]
RPC-377-SE5: Woke up the next day in a coroner’s. Was found naked and dead on the side of Mainstreet, miles away from the bonfire. A family had me. I knew them from church. The doc said my heart had stopped. I didn't believe them. I yelled at the man, at the family, callin' him a nutcase. Stormed out, felt like fire was in my veins.
Surveyor Sarren: 'Stopped?'
RPC-377-SE5: Low oxygen shit, I don’t know. My hands didn’t stop shaking all day after that - but my addiction. It was… it was gone. I couldn't bring myself to take more, made me vomit. I decided I wanted out, after that. I- It’s not the same, you know. What’s the point of listening to your father speak if you can’t remember the words?
[Silence.]
RPC-377-SE5: Took me all of a week of running ‘fore Jimmy found me. I was marked, see. His goons said I owed a 'blood price'. They- they had people watching my family. One false move, and people I cared about would die. They’re everywhere, I don’t even know how deep it runs, I-
Surveyor Sarren: That’s why you became a seller.
RPC-377-SE5: Porter. There’s a difference. The sellers take the shit. They’re proud of it, says it gives ‘em a rush. Me? I had routes Jimmy would give me each week, we met by the bonfire place. I don’t know where he makes the drug, but…
Surveyor Sarren: What about your old friends?
RPC-377-SE5: Gone like the wind. Some I think were a set-up. Others… I saw one, a few weeks back in a gig. She’d become one of their guinea pigs. They tested the drugs on those. Selling them off when they’re done.
Surveyor Sarren: Selling?
RPC-377-SE5: I don’t know. I had a few theories. Rich people like whores, right? It’s easier when they’re drugged up, I guess. No screaming. God-
Surveyor Sarren: It’s fine. You don’t have to talk about that.
RPC-377-SE5: T-thank you.
Surveyor Sarren: One more thing. Do you know anything about something called ‘the Seventh Life Community’? Any word on the streets?
RPC-377-SE5: What?
Surveyor Sarren: The Seventh Life Community.
RPC-377-SE5: The hell is that? I-
[Banging sounds on the door.]
Surveyor Sarren: Shit.
RPC-377-SE5: W-who’s that?
Surveyor Sarren: Shit, we have to go, now.
RPC-377-SE5: Oh Christ. I-is this the police? Jimmy always told me how he knew police. How he had people-
Surveyor Sarren: Damnit!
[The rest of the recording has been redacted as per Project Morpheus’s Protocol 8. RPC-377-SE5 was found dead in his holdings three days later, having hanged himself using his bedsheets. Investigation regarding this incident closed in 1994. All files since regarding the commune, its members, or associated activities have since been scrubbed.]
