Record A

I remember the days that I used to know love and compassion. I remember those days. They were beautiful in their own way. Poetic. Poetic but foolish. Now I have new beauty in my life. Beauty sealed in blood. Love is no longer relevant in the cold world I have discovered. Love is a word used to describe a feeling that people revere. A feeling that they covet. Ironically, this feeling is only a feeling. Easily forgotten in the moment of desperation. One second, they tell you that they would do anything for you. As soon as things go wrong they decide differently. Why desire love? Why pursue it? It is a waste of time. People who claim to possess it are liars. In truth, I am not a sociopath. I am just like everyone else. Unloving. Cold. They just are unaware and oblivious of their own messed up morals. I have no morals. As I have proved last night.

They are all dead. I killed them with a letter opener. They beat me and locked me away. They deserved to bleed and they did. I thought I loved them. But my epiphany is still as relevant as ever. Love is not real. They had nothing in their hearts. Nothing but blood. Pumping through their venom filled veins. I can feel the venom within me. Like a pestilential reawakening. The Police think they can control that awakening. They cannot. I am alive. I live I breath. I, at last, have transcended the bounds of everyone else. I have discovered the truth. Love is not real.

I can hear the detective's voice in my head. Jason Polson. He thinks I was the one who killed the golden retriever. He has no understanding of the truth. His questions ring in my ears but my mind does not bother to pay any attention. His questions will lead him nowhere. I find this amusing. Amusing to the point of endless laughter. I will never stop laughing. Life is too funny. They want to transfer me. I will keep laughing. I will laugh until I can't breath.

They gave up on me quickly, and sent me to Kira's home for Unstable Children. Ironically, the word Kira translates to killer. I find that amusing. They are sending me to a children's home for murderers. Life is so funny. I am eight years old. I am told that someone my age will think of things like super heroes, drawing. Dogs. I am told that I should be outside. I remember the desire to feel the morning air, and the cool breeze. Never any hope of that, I suppose, when you live in isolation and darkness. I have always wanted to climb a tree. I wonder what those are like. Leaves are a beautiful thing. I would see them on the car drive to school, when school was an option. They are green mostly, but sometimes red, orange and even brown. I have never seen snow. Maybe I will get to see those things now that I am free.

Cognitive satisfaction has always been so close. But they stole that from me. Now they are dead. I suppose the numbness will be here forever. And that's okay. This emptiness gives me understanding. Understanding that no one else will ever have. The itch in my fingers is still there. I look forward to the next time it will claim blood.

Record B

Thank god for knives. So shiny and beautiful in their own way. But lethal to the touch. I used one last night. I had to. It was the night of September 22nd. It is the one year anniversary of my revelation. Of my epiphany. They were all innocent from the outward appearance. The man and the woman who ran the home seemed kind and loving but that didn't matter. I know what they looked like on the inside. It is a gilded age that we live in. Golden people. But when you cut them open you see the rotting inside. Its like the wood of a fallen tree. Empty of color and life, and filled with decaying. They are all decomposing like a fallen tree now. I used the knife expertly and killed all twenty six of them.

I don't care. I see the way they looked at me. The other children in the home were oblivious, but the adults knew what I had done. They feared me. They would tell me that they loved me over and over and over. I know they were lying. Love is not a real thing. It is just a word that explains a feeling. A feeling that is used commonly and pointlessly. Their love didn't save them. I managed to over power all of them. One particular boy. His name was Timothy. He liked me. We would play games outside over the year. I remember spending Christmas with him. He got me a notebook.

He was nice, but that doesn't change anything. Kindness is fake. It is an artificial crutch that is used by people with a hidden agenda. I never found his agenda. Maybe he just wanted to be loved. Unfortunately, he didn't have the knowledge I have. I chased him upstairs just like all the others. I would have done more if my headache hadn't taken over. I passed out from the heat. It was a great night. September the 22nd. I will do this forever. Rid the world of this pestilence. This artificial love. Thank god for knives.

I talked to Dr. Barter about what I thought. He seemed surprised that a nine year old would say such things. As he should be. He gave me an IQ test. I decided to show what I was truly capable of. I don't care. The world is my enemy and I will give them a reason to fear me. May they enjoy what was born from them. They are all inhuman. They study me like an animal, and fear me like a monster. They are the monsters. They will pay for what they have done. I will relish in it.

Record C

We hollow out mountains. That's what we do. We hoard what we find in those mountains. We carve our way deeper into the earths surface, uncovering whatever we find. Monsters revealed will never be accepted. They will be ostracized, like people carrying plague. I spent a year hollowing out mountains. The two people who lived on site claimed that they needed someone small to fit inside a mine shaft. I complied, curious of what we would find. We found a subterranean river. It was a strange find. The mine shaft had partially collapsed many years ago. It had caved into a cavern. Curiosity gripped me and I jumped down some of the rubble and looked around. It was dark, and I could see shapes and colors of all sorts of minerals. The smooth stone was wet with the dark water.

I wished that I could stay. There was a strange peace found in this work. The company of the other miners was enjoyable and interesting. They showed this false kindness as well. They let me stay there. I lived in peace for a year. Detective Jason Polson was still looking for me. I remember reading about myself in the papers. The Unidentified Boy. They found no records on my real name, and I suppose that's fine.

Names are a label that relentlessly pursues you. My name made my parents believe me to be worthy of their dark fantasies. My name got grandma killed. I remember watching her be tortured. She put up a fight but there was no point. Sanity can disappear in the course of one short hour. All it takes is the right equipment. I don't know why they killed her. I guess that she had similar dark fantasies of her own that she played on them. It backfired. It is easy to create a sociopath. Its a cycle. Sociopath is a word like no other. It refers to ones ability to feel. Ironically they gave this label to me. I think that I may be more alive than everyone else. Everyone is inhuman. They show love and kindness and then use it as leverage. The world is full of sociopaths in a way. All of them unfeeling. They are husks just waiting to be cut down.

A strange word came into my mine while I was down in the caves. AlfendQ. I don't know where it came from. Maybe the fated chronicle playing in my mind told me. I told one of the kind miners the word. He laughed and thought it was amusing. You can think about the strangest things in the caves down there, he had told me, Its all the gas down there. It will mess with your head. But don't worry. We will see things we don't yet understand every day. AlfendQ. Just because we don't understand what it means yet, doesn't mean we won't know in the future.

Last night was September the 22nd. I murdered those two miners. Why? Because I had to. The itch in my finger tips comes to life and I can't control it. It is like hellfire in my hands. I used a pickaxe this time. It was a satisfying weapon. The cool metal tip partially satiated the burning sensation in my hands. I killed them in their sleep and took them to that mine shaft. One of them was still alive. The one I told the strange word too. He began to write on the ground with his own blood. He wrote my word. I then killed him with one blow to the head. I left the mining facility for the first time in a year. I wonder if the police will know I was the one who killed them. I am in the system now. Perhaps they will. I hope they do. I can do this forever.

Record D

I met a very strange person recently. I met her at a coffee shop in the town I decided to take cover in. She has been a contradiction of anyone I have ever met. She accepted me from the word hello, and I don't understand why. She gave me a book without questioning my identity. I know that a hidden agenda is inevitable. But it is so well hidden that I can't discover it. People are not capable of all of these things she shows to possess. Her character is intriguing. I hope to see more of her and maybe learn why she is so different from anyone I have ever met.

The newspapers are calling me AlfendQ. I saw it yesterday. It is like he said. Just because we don't understand something right away doesn't mean it won't soon have purpose. AlfendQ. Now; it refers to two murders that take place in a mining facility. Soon; it will mean a message. I will make the name known all over the world.

I am working on an idea that I had recently. The idea came from the itch in my fingers. I realized that since people are so inhuman and feel no love, they deserve to die. I could make this philosophy a reality. I will make it a reality. I am going to make a death game, that will include random and not so random people. They will gather together and be forced to murder each other. It will show people the truth of what humanity is. It is cruel. It is unfeeling. People suspect themselves to be moral paragons. This will reveal the truth. When put in a life or death situation, they will tear eachother apart. I am going to start with Detective Jason Polson, and Dr. Barter. There will be more people. This message will catch to the winds like the plague. I will create a name for myself. AlfendQ will be the most feared entity across the globe.