Project 34: OverviewEdit
Thirty minutes after I recieved the email containing the below message, the email deleted itself. I cannot give copies of the email to anyone, just give it as a "story" of the Project described. Project 34 is not to be confused with any other Project due to the fact that it is by technicality only a fictional character. But I swear to you, my readers, that each of the events that I put on these pages, the stories of psychos, murderers, and spirits are real. It all happens in another world, one of our own creation.
We make these monsters, and it is up to us to stop them. That much I can say is possible. I created the concept for Project 34 when I was only 10 years old. This event apparently happened six years after that concept was made. And it happened because of one man with an ambition that ended his life, utterly, and entirely. I only got the first name and middle initial before the note cuts off, and a new text appears farther down, possibly from the Project itself.
And this is the only account of the creation of Project 34.
To: (narrarator's email)
From: (undisclosed email)
Subject: Last Words. Kill my legacy.
Yes, you read that right. I know who you are, boy, and what you can do, and what you know about our worlds. I can safely say I can trust you with this information, since it is the only letter leaving this facility that I damned with my greed. And since I know you, I can trust you more that you can trust me. What happened is simple. I took your old design to the Rambic Virus, made a few modifications, and used it on a willing subject. Officially, he's called Project 34, but you know him as Tails. My God, I was such an idiot, thinking I would be rewarded for my efforts. Instead of creating a hero that was the new ultimate life-form, I created a monster that was born to destroy and nothing else. Isn't that the original purpose of the Rambic Form, Ultimatum? To kill, maim, destroy everything it sees, feels, hears, and smells? Heh, I should have listened to the warnings you placed with the formula. And now, the same monster is destroying the facility, and I don't know how much time I have left. I can't think of any ways to apprehend the thing: it so far has been unaffected by laughing gas, ether, tranquilizer, and even lethal means, such as bullets, electricity, fire, and toxins. It's too powerful. But if someone can develope an infectious antivenom to counter the virus, namely you, and cure the damn thing, our planet just might have a future. I don't have much else to say, other than I caused this and I take full responsibility. I am sorry. To those who also made monsters of their own, I'm sorry, for the fact that you take pride in your creations. To those who try to fight back, I'm sorry, for making your task a whole lot harder. I'm sorry to you, Boy, for trying to play God with a Godsbane.
Yours truly, Gerald K
I killed Gerald. You can try and guess who's next. You'll be wrong. I promise.
Afterthoughts on the LetterEdit
The end of the letter is obvious. Gerald, the one who created Project 34 is the first place, was killed by his own creation, which he acknowledges that it is his responsibiliy for developing for such a thing in the first place. And the Project is not as narrow-minded as I first thought, due to the fact that the Rambic Virus makes you a little less intelligent than a Shi-Tzu, and gives you the attention span of a Goldfish. But the last note from "RT", or as I eventually resorted to calling him, "Rambic Tails", shouldn't have even been possible if that one effect had applied to him. After some deliberating, I came to the conclusion that the intelligence drop was one of the things that Gerald "fixed". The last thing I thought about was that he was targeting someone specific. I have no idea who, what, or even why he's targeting the who or what, and it's Hell on my conscience. I don't know how to cure the Rambic Virus. I made it specifically to be uncureable, unless he made Tails' specific virus curable. And given the description from Gerald, Rambic Tails is essentially invincible to mortal weaponry and murder methods. He's stuck that way until I do something about it. And I will, I promise.
Until then, I can only watch the devastation from a distance.
My name is Demitri Allen. And I am a Witness.