Dead and disappeared, a presence that cannot be seen...

[The sound of a large piece of fabric-perhaps a blanket or a sheet-flapping into the air transmits, before carefully being tucked around something.]

...

People are the same. Holy, poor, or otherwise there's no real difference...
Nothing more than one's own blind faith. Hiding weakness and showing false strength, fearing one's neighbors.

In the end, we're all human. There's no real difference. Race, mankind, government... North and south, and east and west, black and white and red and blue, everyone's the same.

In the end, humans with limitations.
If we can't fly through the sky, there's no reason to not die. So humans, no matter what we do, are all the same.

...And so I just calmly perform the duty in front of me, and continue to turn my eyes away from this mournful world that knows its limitations. In despair that there are no other possibilities.

[A long pause follows.]

( Private to John Summers; Unhackable )

...

Soon, I will take my leave from this place. I shall not be alone.
But I will give this warning only once, and it would do you all well to mark my words carefully...

If any of you try to follow me, or him... I will kill you. Friends and enemies are barely discernible to me now, and none of you know what I am really capable of...

Do not test me. You will only put your own lives at risk.

Seven days. Seven days are missing from my memory... Why? It is because I was dead? Though I still find that highly unusual after what Thomas was able to inform me about the afterlife.

It has been difficult for me to relax, knowing this much. The backdated entries have only been able to inform me of so much, including my most... unnatural behavior. I... was not aware that I was able to record anything after my life was taken. What else am I not aware of? If I am ever conscious of myself more clearly in the next life, then I will try to exercise more caution. Not that I would wish to experience such a fate again. Both for my sake, and that of my partner.

Thankfully, it seems that my death was not an act of murdering solely in cold blood. It was premeditated. I am able to understand this much now, as well as the intentions of Walter Sullivan. A mother... Such a simplistic goal. But I wonder what purpose he would have in removing the heart from my body? (If my past words are to be believed.) Although he is currently in captivity, has no one found out where these organs have been stored? I do not know if there would be any gain in finding them, but what would be the purpose of him going to the trouble of obtaining them if not for some future purpose?

It also seems that I have misplaced my boots. A shame. But I believe that I heard them walking around in the building, if the sound of those footsteps outside of the apartment are any indication.

If I ever wish to make any progress, then I will have to search Horton again.

( Private to Ness; Unhackable )

( Private; Unhackable )

[Sometime during the night, heavy static picks up on the communications network. For the ones closer to the Horton Lane Apartments, the static is more interfering-regardless of whether the communicator happens to be on or turned off-, accompanied by an unmistakable presence in the air. For the ones more sensitive to spirits, the presence brings feelings of loss and confusion.

A few minutes pass, and then a disembodied voice can be heard, intermingled with the static.]

M i s s i n g

Body... heart... blood...

Gone.

Disappeared.

NO

It's more.

[The following line is said very, very fast. Also seeming repetitive, echoed into each other.]
MuchMuchMuchMuchMuchMuchMuchMuchMuchMuchMuchMORE.

...

W h o i s I m i n a ?

[The static continues for a few minutes more, before the transmission finally cuts out completely.]