About Me...

I'm an ordinary man who has made his own mistakes in the past and only wants to work toward helping those who otherwise can't help themselves. As a former police officer, I use my knowledge of surveillance techniques to assist people who need someone of my skill sets.

My sole weakness...

... I have personally witnessed the pain and psychological damage caused by child predation. Having witnessed this has softened me and focused my devotion on preventing these attacks before they can happen.

Taking a vacation – to Boston.

I don’t know what else to do. I’m in trouble. I’m still not crazy, but I saw a giant mushroom walking in the middle of the street this morning. I know how that sounds, but I also know it was a hallucination, probably brought on by lack of sleep and these headaches.

At the time, I didn’t know it was a hallucination, because… well, because. So I stopped my car, I got out, and I yelled at the mushroom, because it was in my way. Normally, I wouldn’t talk to fungus, because they don’t talk back, but this mushroom just looked at me with its spots, and it pissed me off because I knew it could hear me honking, and I know it heard me yelling.

And the next thing I know, two cops are talking to me. I asked them to get the mushroom out of my way so I could get to the doctor’s office. They said ok, just pull the car over to the side of the road, and then they’d ask me some questions about it, but that stupid mushroom was still just sitting there, laughing with its spots. I pulled over, and the cops wanted my ID. Of course, my wallet is still missing, and I haven’t had time to get new ID. My PI badge was missing, too, of course. They said they were going to have to write me citations for obstructing traffic flow, not carrying identification, and public disturbance. I’m standing there, and I hear one guy mutter to the other that they should probably take me to the hospital for evaluation.

I ran away from them. I jumped over the hood of my car, and I ran. About two blocks away, I ran into one of those ordinary people. She didn’t say anything – she just handed me a card with a weird symbol and a phone number on it. I called and got the same guy who wanted me to come to Boston. Either these folks work for him and he’s legit, or this is all some kind of game.

Either way, the cops are going to be knocking on my door once they run my car’s plates. I’ve got to get out of town. I don’t know what else to do.


Post a Comment