Similar to 1444.
Lieutenant detective Raymond Walsh offered a statement earlier at the site of the carnage here today. Maybe he can give us some insights as to the nature of this phenomena. Detective Walsh what are the National Guard going to do about this? "Four times in three years have I felt her pull... but I'm still trying to put my little 'incident' behind me. It's a very traumatic experience getting sodomized by a prize horse. I re-experience it again and again. And I might have sexual problems for the rest of my life, but I'm working the groups and following the programs and utilizing the one on one sessions. They help. They help you not feel so alone."
Maybe we should give detective Walsh a few minutes to gather his wits. This is, after all, a very mysterious and powerful force we're dealing with here. Once we have more information we'll keep you posted. This is Trina Jackson reporting to you from our first encounter with what can only be described as an ancient alien goddess throwing counter-memetic molotov cocktails at various high-rise corporate buildings downtown. Back to you Jim. Thanks, Trina in other news...
I've been to limbo it's not a pretty sight.
When you first enter the threshold there is a series of long hallways full of doors. You find yourself at the center of eight hallways all leading to infinite boundaries beyond the light. Funny thing is, you don't remember renting a room...
"She's aware of one too many classified projects. And she's working out of the brand new operational control center slash basement armory fortress that took nine contractors six years to construct to spec. So, don't you fucking tell me it's an easy situation to resolve. She now has access to:"
- all the artillery, ammo, and weapons she could use in a lifetime.
- an elite security company made up of two hundred of the most war-torn veteran grey-ops in our roster of troops at her command.
- She has access to a hangar and an set of airstrips the size of four fucking football fields full of jets armed with sidewinder missiles
"We've really got a serious problem here, gentlemen. The control room could run this whole facility with the push of a button. We're fucked. She could lock us in and starve us or flood a sealed corridor."
Something deeply esoteric is disturbing the electromagnetic fields. Bending ley lines the wrong way backwards.
In all our dealings and exercises with her nine gatekeepers it is known that you must avoid answering their inane riddles which're spun within some quasi-social attempt to mesmerize given subjects. We think it's due to separation-anxiety. Her speech centers process information 5x faster than a normal human being. Her quick silver tongue is like a thousand petaled lotus. Her words are awe-inspiring, at times Goddess-like. Her fuckbuddy Chaos drives her clear across the abyss where they worship each others celestial being intertwined in gaseous nebular.
Nine creatures born, bred, and taught to do nothing, but mate, feed, and triumph in combat no matter the cost, the loss, the excruciating pain, or the barbaric dismemberment and disembowelment that the unlucky few must endure as strict martial punishment is the law of the land. And to local looky-lous it's just a hoppin' good time watching adolescents get beat upon with bamboo sticks. How could we ever get bored living in a police state?