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dis--parity · 3 years

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Interview 03-IO/GW-██

TRANSCRIPT -- Interrogation session 03-IO/GW-██

Date: ████ of █████, 20██

Interrogator on site: Captain ████ Raynes

Transcription Correspondent: Agent ███████ Brewer

Begin recording at 1000 HRS.

S001, ‘Garis’, awaits in the interrogation chamber, appearing fatigued, but stable.

Interrogator agent Raynes is cleared to attempt interrogation.

Interrogator Raynes enters the interrogation chamber. Door is locked.

Begin Questioning.

Garis: Guess we know the drill by now. So… what you got for us this time?

Raynes: Well, surprisingly… our team recovered quite a lot of paperwork. Your cult leader didn’t really seem to have the due diligence to burn it.

Garis: So… lots of stuff we didn’t know about, then? Like what?

Raynes: Cryptocurrency transactions, recruitment figures, personal expenses… the brand name doubled as a money-laundering front for some people your… leader, was associated with, it looks like. Other than that… he was a gambler. Day-trader, broker, conman… you name it.

Garis: Oh, there’s a fair few fucking names we’d use for that degenerate piece of filth. … hey, there’s one of them just now.

Raynes: I’m with you there. I already told about what we found in that pudding - looks like he used the same stuff on himself. Him and Rosenfeld. You think… maybe he wanted to believe his own lies?

Garis: More likely he was just a junkie. Both of them. Using people like us to bring in the dirty money, doing whatever they please and letting the others do the same, ‘cause as long as they make a profit-

Raynes: Hey, hey, hey. I get it. Chill. They were greedy bastards, secret’s out, but they’re dead now. Speak ill of ‘em all you want, but… I’m afraid there’s more. That pudding they gave you? For both you in the cult and the general populace, they put blood in it.

Garis: I-... blood? Like-... my blood?

Garis appears to become nauseous at the concept. They take out a lozenge that agent Raynes had previously provided them with and suck on it.

Raynes: Yeah. Possibly… those blood donations went into it. Mr. Whittock-... Judas, wanted to study the effects of the blood of the young on the aging process using a large sample. When he got something solid, he was gonna sell it to all kinds of people. Politicians, criminals, all kinds of people who were past their prime. Another profit incentive.

Garis: And a way to keep the old and corrupt in power. Fuck… that- you destroyed all that, right?

Raynes: I can’t confirm or deny that.

Note: It’s destroyed. I saw to it myself.

Garis: So… you’ve got all this from those documents. Why are we still here? Just for the hell of it?

Raynes: There’s still a few questions I need to ask you. One of them is about the, ah... possible terrorist motives of the cult. Given everything I’ve just told you, everything Judas looked like he was building up to… why the sudden change of heart? Why order a shipment of weapons so conspicuously?

Garis: We-... we can’t say for sure. Not from our perspective, but… there were-... we got messages from the God in the Numbers around the same time we all received what I later found out were weapons. It… it wasn’t Judas that was talking.

Raynes: So… the other one. Elijah?

Garis: We were... doped up, all of us. Same thing they always did to us, but we knew. I knew. Gale knew. And his voice-... the voice- Elijah, he was the one the God in the Numbers spoke from. We all got our guns, told they would… told it was the rapture. We didn’t know what it meant at the time, but I heard what people thought. That we’d go out and show these ‘relics’ to the world, redeem them in the eyes of God. But… we alone felt the cold steel of a nine millimeter in our hands.

Raynes: But… why do this? Haemolife was more or less off the radar until that weapons shipment came in.

Garis: … I think that was the point where they finally factored Gale in. Someone who could get past that barrier, someone who had the willpower to defy the God in the Numbers. Someone who didn’t have the same fear Iris did. They knew… they knew she’d blab eventually. Desperate times, maybe.

Raynes: And the way Rosenfeld took desperate measures was to initiate a terrorist attack before you could expose the truth?

Garis: No - not to take everyone else out. To destroy everyone in the know - myself included. Maybe something changed along the way, maybe they realised your CIA was onto them. Either way… it was the end for all of us.

Raynes: Even the ones cross country… shit. They were prepared for this. Shit… I mean… you told me about your parents. I guess you didn’t leave anyone behind, at least

S001 grimaces at these words. Their mood appears to be taking a turn for the worse.

Garis: … we did. Fuck. I did. We… couldn’t even say goodbye. We knew what was happening, and-... we pushed him away. We didn’t want to drag him into this, too.

Raynes: Who?

Garis sighs.

Garis: … his name was Alex. He was there for us. If it wasn’t for him, we might not be Garis now. He showed us the best of times, and stuck with us in the worst of times. He knew… he knew about what we truly went through, we told him. And he helped us anyway. Loved us anyway. He-....

Garis pauses for a brief moment. Their face looks almost guilty.

Garis: They, told me about how their dad used to isolate them socially, stick them to one place, and how they grew jealous of all the other kids who had parents who loved them, parents who took them places instead of keeping them cooped up in their rooms, parents that… didn’t have any agreement between each other to do what they wanted to their children. Together, we figured out ways to fight back against our respective abusers. I was able to defy the God in the Numbers because of them. Because of their... humanity, that nobody else showed us. Fuck… all that time, we thought we were saving them. But, now we’re together, we realise… they were saving us. If they became a target…

Raynes: … tell me something. If there’s something you could say to them right now, if they’re alive, if they could listen... what would it be?

Garis hesitates. Agent Brewer detects this conversation is becoming too personal in nature, but the interrogator is owed some leeway.

Garis: … I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t explain to you what was happening, Alex. But… you saved my life. I wish I knew where you were, and I promise one day we’ll find a way to talk to each other again, someway, somehow, and I’ll tell you, once and for all… thank you.

Note: Raynes has taken all the leeway he’s getting.

Agent Brewer enters the interrogation chamber.

Brewer: Raynes, what are you doing?! This isn’t helping us, we’ve gotten everything we need! Now let’s move on to the next stage already, and-

Raynes: William! Get back to your post, I told you I’d handle this.

Brewer: Oh, because you’ve handled everything so fucking well so far, haven’t you?

Garis: Hey, shut the fuck up, goatee!

Raynes: Yeah, shut the fuck up! Finish up that transcript and we’ll take it outside the interrogation chamber. We’ll move onto the wrap up once you’ve got that shit out your system.

Garis: The… ‘wrap up’? What is this? What have you got planned now, CIA?

Raynes: … I guess we’ll see for ourselves. Please, go back to your cell. Things are gonna work themselves out - starting right now.

#[REDACTED] The Haemolife Files #cult tw #abuse tw #{ wow colette. two haemolife files in two days? what's up with you? }#{ well hey! }#{ we're finally reaching the conclusion! }#{ the next few ones will be smaller }#{ a LOT smaller than this i'm sorry this one was chunky }#{ but it's important! }#{ but! i'm hoping this'll be like. the fourth to last? yeah }

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authorellenmint · 6 years

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Freezing drops splattered through the fiery foliage parting each leaf of the canopy like a cannon ball tumbling from space. I kicked up the pace, trying to jog around the puddles seeping over the sidewalk. Leaves the color of rotten book pages floated upon the grey water like boats tossed into a loveless lake. Each tumble of the rain soaked deeper into my jacket, pelting the left half of my body while I searched for succor under the shared umbrella.

As I leaned closer, my cheek pressed to the cool metal of the handle, a warm hand cinched tighter to the small of my back. Eyes the color of a summer deck washed in autumn rain blinked at me. The smile perched forever upon his lips bent lower into a pucker. Lips with the heat of a wood-burning stove brushed against my forehead a moment before he took a step forward and splashed calf deep into a puddle.

“Blighted hell,” Anders cursed, shaking his uncovered hair so the blond tip of the ponytail swiped against the inside of the umbrella.

“Told you we should have taken a cab,” I answered back, my voice raised to be heard over not only the pitter-patter of raindrops but the slosh and wash of cars skidding through the streets. Flooding drains splashed back towards us, everyone in a cursing mood thanks to the never-ending rain.

Everyone but the man on my arm. The cross pucker of skin at the top of his nose that settled in months ago vanished along with the summer heat, leaving him looking both ecstatic to be alive and also five years younger. “But if we caught an Uber we’d have missed out on all of this.” Anders gestured towards a trio of suits all huddling under a newspaper they bought just to act as rain gear.

To say they looked miserable would be to insist the ocean is a bit damp. I watched the three stomp towards the curb, their eyes daring any of the flying past traffic to soak them. It took all of ten seconds for one to do just that, the overflow threatening to wash them away in the flood.

“You enjoy the misery?” I asked, catching the small snicker on Anders’ lips.

A wounded look crossed his face, but he quickly snapped off the facade. “More that I find comfort in people of a certain tipped-up nose variety being reminded how little they matter. The rain doesn’t care the price of the suit it wets.”

“You are so strange,” I said shaking my head.

A puff of hot breath brandished against my cheek as Anders leaned in tight. His lips were in not a smile, not the way his canines glinted by the taxi brake lights. But it wasn’t a sneer either. Some strange middle ground that was all his own.

“You have no idea,” he answered, darting closer for another reviving kiss. My hand twisted up the umbrella pole like a snake climbing a tree, pulling me closer to both the man’s body and his intriguing soul.

Rain pattered against the plastic roof above us, rivulets dripping towards the ground at our feet like tears from the sky. By the arrhythmic beat of the autumn storm, I gripped Anders’ cheek and guided him to my lips. So close the tip of his striking nose glanced against mine, smoke puffing from the micro-O of his lips. Greedy for the peppery taste, I leaned closer.

A noise erupted from behind us. A sad, mewling thing that etched through the ears like broken glass. While I turned my chin in confusion, it was Anders who whipped his head clean around. His eyes opened in concern from the cry.

“What was that?” I asked, flinching at a repeat of what sounded like a baby doll as its batteries reached their end.

“From behind there,” Anders called, pointing towards a cement retaining wall dug into the mud-slicked hill. Before I could speak another word, he abandoned the sanctity of the umbrella to leap into the torrent. The rain plowed apart his tucked-back hair, turning the dark gold locks a grungy brown as he dashed for the filthy bricks.

Twisting his head around, as if he was attempting to use sonar to locate the noise, suddenly Anders bent clean over. His stomach and the wool coat he wore both dug into the mud-coated wall as he rummaged for something behind it. A few more of the suits clomped on past, eyes glaring at me for pausing on the sidewalk.

With a gulp, I dashed for Anders, wondering what got into him. To not only leave the safety of the umbrella for the elements, but to then nearly dive into the mud was unheard of. Yet, he didn’t even blink at such a thought.

Rubbing a hand across his bent-over back, I extended the umbrella above us both as best I could. “What is it?” I asked, watching as Anders tugged his lanky frame up from the ground. Darkness nestled in his hands. “What did you find?”

Anders didn’t answer me, one hand cupped below whatever he unearthed while the other rubbed at a cake of mud. As the clumps worried off of the find onto his fingers, a tiny triangle appeared. Then, a set of whiskers, and a mouth with a sliver of a bright pink tongue opened to give another pathetic cry.

“A kitten?” I gasped, my hand frozen just above the black fur matted and stained from mud, rain, and neglect.

“Poor thing was drowning back there,” Anders said, his tone heart-stricken as if he couldn’t believe such a thing would occur. The tiny black body, with half of its onyx fur matted by mud and mange, looked a pathetic sort and near death.

But, as Anders worked over its little paws and rubbed at the back, its cloudy eyes drifted away from the land of spirits. They couldn’t move far, but the kitten gave another mewl stronger than before. Without a care for his wardrobe, Anders opened up his coat and tucked the palm-sized kitten in beside his heart. Only the tiny face peeked out, its no doubt hungry mouth crying for food now that it was freed from the rain.

“There you are,” Anders whispered to the rescued kitten. “Safe and warm. Get some milk in your belly and you should be right as…” He broke from staring in rapture at the ransacked ball of fur to the rain tumbling around them. “Well, better than that.”

I’d seen a lot of various shades of Anders — sometimes brash, often cocky to shield himself, occasionally wounded and worried about anyone judging him for it. But never in the years of knowing him had I witnessed the man coming fully under the spell of another living being in ten seconds flat. He cooed at the kitten tucked warmly under his arm, the tip of his pinkie trying to brush the upended hair back along the kitten’s tiny snout.

“Someone like you needs a home. Not to be tossed out into the rain like a piece of trash. To be ignored by every person rushing past. Not a damn one caring enough to stop and…” The rant that began to the kitten before turning on himself fell away as his eyes burned into mine.

With a shrug, Anders leaned back enough the rain plummeted into his hair and down the collar of his jacket. “I mean, we can contact a shelter to take care of this little one. I know, the place is yours, not mine. And…and who am I to decide what you want in your life?”

I passed the umbrella to my other hand allowing me to reach into the gap between Anders’ coat. Slowly, I drew the tip of my finger against the kitten’s head. The fur, even with mud meshed in, was soft as down. It mewled, shifting to dig into my gentle scratches. Which was when a rumbling started to take hold deep in the kitten’s gut.

As it purred from the attention and love, I smiled. “A black kitten right before Halloween,” I mused, glancing away from the bundle of fur up into Anders’ eyes. “We were destined to adopt her.”

#anders #kitten #dragon age autumn #rainy fall day

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