The old man in the woods heard a knock at his door.

At first, he was too tired to answer it, so he sat and thought about doors and wood in general. It seemed so physical, so ridiculously flesh-like to knock on a door without saying any-

“Sir, we’re with the FBI. We need to ask you a few questions. Could you open this door?”

His blood froze.

Oh shit.

“Sir, this is the FBI. Open up!”

The door exploded open as seventeen FBI agents armed with assault rifles swarmed in, taking aim at his head. He recognised the uniform with his eyes, but his mind felt it anyway.

One of them stepped forward. She was tall, very tall, with dark black hair and chocolate eyes.

Chocolate… delicious…

“Sir, we have reason to believe-“

“Look where you will”, the old man rasped. “It don’t matter no more.”

The Unusual Incidents Unit tore apart his entire house, and the old man sat in the centre of it all. He had been surprised by this development. Even if they were to discover the basement, they would probably just let him stay. He willed it.

Then he saw the counter-memetic implants on their necks.


The man stood up just as they opened the door to the downstairs. He pulled out a concealed Desert Eagle L5 and willed an agent without an implant to step forwards. He held the gun to the boy’s skull. Shouting echoed around him, but it didn’t matter. Life screamed for pain, but it didn’t matter.

The boy’s skull shattered, and the man collapsed from gunshot wounds.

Show how he got to this point; anomalous serial killer in Pacific NW

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