Love lost, fire at will/Dum-Dum bullets and shoot to kill

As I look over your recording of events, I am astounded at how masterfully you have manipulated your image. You use a mask of truth to hide it, in each post going into every secret, explaining every weakness, until you have tricked the audience into thinking that you are being completely honest with them. And yet by displaying such total honesty within the context of the things you do post, you avoid anyone questioning what it is you aren’t posting.

Have you told them about the days you spend hiding under your bedsheets, not even moving to get food? Have they seen you break down into tears at as you consider the impossibility of your goals? Do they know how easily you may be triggered into a state of absolute panic and helplessness?

Of course you haven’t. You only tell them about the stories of I-330 the heroic adventurer. You only tell them the parts which fit the person you wish you were.

But there is one omission you have made that I love above all else. If one were to believe only the information that has been posted, the first thing they would believe you did after I rescued you from the Quiet was travel to Germany and spent several days in Bacchian revelry. Such a wonderful misdirection. “Upon receiving the freedom to travel anywhere and anytime, the life-loving I-330 went out to celebrate as only she can do best.”

But as anyone with a brain knows, when the oppressed are given power, they only have one thing on their mind: Revenge. And you certainly had experienced a significant amount of oppression in your life.

There always has been the mystery of the death of Lisa’s dearest daddy. Burnt alive in his hospital bed, and yet no one was seen enter or leave the room. It’s almost as if someone had teleported inside, covered him in gasoline, and then lit a spark.

If I remember correctly, you even woke him up first, to ensure he was conscious for everything.

And then Lisa’s dearly departed mother, killed in a car accident on the same day as her husband’s death. She was such a good driver, though. I can’t imagine how such a skilled driver would experience such a horrific wreck. Unless, of course, someone had appeared behind her and strangled her to death as she drove. That would explain it.

The rest of Lisa’s family soon followed. Her parents had tortured you, and the rest had abandoned you. An equal crime in your eyes. One by one, killed by “Accidents” until none were left.

I-330’s entrance into the world was not marked by celebrations and alcohol. It was marked by blood. A much more fitting introduction, I feel.

Sincerely,
Grendel