~Red~

[Guest]

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CASE FILE: Civilian

~One step, two step
into the abyss
three step, four step,
Your death is sweetest bliss~
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FULL NAME:
→ Red (Ryan Edward Dunn)

AGE:
→ Mentally, 7 (Such as how Al stayed about the same age as when he got stuck in the armor...)
→ Physically, 118 (... and ended up at his correct age when he was restored to normal! :D)

SEX:
→ Male

BIRTH PLACE:
→ Oxford, Creta

RACE:
→ Cretan

DATE OF BIRTH:
→ 8/19/1896

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HEIGHT:
→ 83.82

WEIGHT:
→ 3.18

PICTURE:
→

Spoiler:

DESCRIPTION:
→ {From the journal of a medical examiner, dated 1/14/1977}
This is incredible. The subject is completely made up of artificial materials. We have no idea how, but his body is that of a child's doll, composed of various plastics, and his hair seems to be some form of cotton-silk compound. We've found a horrifying truth though- his innards are hollow, or should be, but are filled with human remains. Just the sight of this.... Monstrosity. Scared away several of our lab researchers. I, myself, actually vomited. It is a horrendous thing to see, and we regret the day when we attempted to view his anatomy. The thing has eyes too. Working eyes. Not stolen from humans, but like those of a doll, except moveable. We don't quite understand it, but we do know that the things are terrifying. Bloody, crimson red, they seem to pierce your soul. Pure terror, incarnate. We've also noted that it is very light weight, with no bones or muscle to add too much weight. In addition to that, it is approximately the size of a marionette of average sorts, if not a bit smaller. The size of a child's doll, to be specific. Thin limbs, and almost ragdoll-like joint stiffness. Absolutely inhuman, in all aspects. When we found it, it was indeed like that of a child’s doll, actually. The thing is clad in a long light blue shirt, with a pair of tan shorts underneath. When it walks, however, you can rarely see the shorts, and it does, indeed, appear to move wraith-like through the room, almost as if it were a ghost of sorts. Not only this, but through dating processes normally used on rocks and fossils, we have traced this things age back to the late eighteen-hundreds, and the early nineteen-hundreds! How it has been alive for so long, we cannot even begin to understand… We hope to discover what it is, eventually.

{A new journal entry, dated 1/17/1977}
We are making progress. We've noticed that the subject has a strange, peculiar symbol on the inside of left eye. This has been identified by our alchemical specialists as a blood seal, which binds his soul to his current body. It is rarely known, and not common. We must study this later. Also to note, when the subject is awake, we have detected peculiar behaviors. He seems to pace a lot, and has a bit of a nervous tick. We have determined that to be due to anticipation, but of what, we don't know. We will need further evaluation by our psychological department, after his physical screening. Also to be of note, his voice is high pitched, childish, and often either pleasant, innocent tones, or a snide, wicked sound, like that of a child in a horror movie. Imagine the voice of all things evil; that is the best way to describe it. And his mouth… This thing seems to have jagged teeth, possibly filed to these points intentionally. We haven’t studied it eating any of the meals we’ve given it, so we may need to research its nourishment habits. Otherwise, I have no idea how it sustains its own life. This thing appears to be a mystery, inside a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, to put it justly, cliché or not.

{Medical log entry, dated 1/18/1977}
Subject has been recently placed into multiple examinations. The results are as follows;
Subject appears to be physically stronger than one would expect, and can bench press around 18 pounds, which is around three times his body mass.
Subject is also much faster than we first thought, and can move at a top speed of ten miles per hour.
Subject has considerable stamina, and has been seen to carry out a steady movement of 10 miles per hour for over 3 hours, before quitting. We do not know if that is his maximum, only that the subject became bored after such extended activity.
Subject has, for now, ceased to cooperate with us in terms of his medical examinations. We now must move on to an examination of his psyche. Hopefully, during his sentence, we will have more opportunities to study this most intriguing subject. Until then, his medical files end here.
.

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PERSONALITY:
→ {Tape recording during a therapy session, dated 2/5/1977}
(P)sychologist: You realize why you are here, correct?
(R)ed: No, I don’t. And why am I shackled to my seat, sir?
P: The shackles are for security measures. Now please, answer my question.
R: I have no idea why I’m here. I think you just get a sick thrill out of keeping children in your interrogation room, hm? Isn’t that right, doctor?
P: You are here because you have been accused of over forty-seven murders across the nations of Creta and Amestris.
R: Murders? Oh dear, I can’t say I quite recall KILLING anyone. *subject is heard laughing maniacally for a few moments*
P: Yes, murder. And you were only convicted for that many. How many more were there? Don’t lie to me. I’m your friend. I want to help you.
R: You know what I do to my friends, right, doctor? I like to stuff my friends with embalming fluids. Would you like that, doctor? Would you? WOULD YOU, WOULD YOU, WOULD YOU, WOU-
P: Stop that at once! This is no-
R: WOULD YOU, WOULD YOU~ WOULD YOU, WOULD YOU~ *subject can be heard laughing again. Tape is turned off*

{Tape recorded session #2, 2/6/1977}
P: Hello Subject X. How-
R: Red. Call me Red, doc.
P: Err, yes. Red, how do you perceive death?
R: Fun. Joy. Pleasure. A thrill. Enjoyable experience. Gratifying, satisfying, absolutely justifying~ Why you ask?
P: Thank you, Red. Now, why do you kill?
R: Lots of reasons.
P: Name some of them, would you?
R: Well, for starters, I like blood. It’s just so pretty. Shiny, crimson glory!
P: So you kill people, just so you can see their blood?
R: No. I also like to collect things.
P: What kind of things, Red?
R: I like to collect hearts, livers, kidneys, brains, spleens, stomachs- anything left in the corpse, I guess. Especially if they’re in good condition. So hard to find organs in good condition these days…
P: So you kill because you like blood-
R: Check.
P:-and because you collect harvested organs. Is that fair to say?
R: Exactly. And one other reason.
P: What would that be?
R: Well, I see it this way. If humans were the ones that took my mommy away, then I need revenge. So I kill people for her. Maybe if I kill enough people, I can build a stairway of bodies, and find her in Heaven.
P: Are you so sure your mommy wants you to ki- *subject can be heard screaming and the psychologist can be heard as being jerked across the table, choking*
R: HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT MOMMY LIKE THAT! I DIDN’T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO TALK ABOUT MOMMY! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK ABOUT MOMMY! YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO HER NAME, YOU FILTHY HUMAN! FILTHY FLITHY FILTH!! *the tape is turned off*

{Recorded session #3, 2/8/1977}
P:Hello Red. Let me just ask you flat-out; how do you sleep at night, after killing so many people?
R: Easy doc; I get in bed. I close my eyes. I sleep. *subject chuckles* I thought you were the scientist here.
P: No, I mean, don’t you feel any remorse over your actions? Guilt is usually a common reaction to doing something as terrible as murder.
R: *subject speaks in obviously mocking tones* Oh, of course I feel guilt! Why, I’m so stricken with remorse for what I’ve done, I… I can’t even bring myself to… I can’t… *subject bursts into maniac laughter* Oh, what am I saying, doctor? I love killing almost as much as my big sister.
P: Big sister? You have a living relative?
R: Duh. She’s been next to me the whole time. She doesn’t like to talk to people though. Isn’t that right, Crow? You don’t have time to talk to this filth. Hehe. Yeah, he would look a lot less ugly without his face. You want me to cut his face off? But they took my toys away, Crow…
P: So, Red. This “Crow”. What does she look like?
R: *subject sounds increasingly irritated* Look right beside me, stupid. Can’t you see her?
P: Yes, yes, I see her. But-
R: *subject sounds hostile* But, what? She’s RIGHT! THERE! That’s just a stupid question to ask. You’re stupid. Stupid. Do you know how stupid you sound when you ask stupid questions, Stupid? You sound really stupid, Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stuuuuupiiiiid~
P: Alright, take it easy, Red. We don’t need an incident like before. My colleague still hasn’t gotten over the trauma.
R: *subject cackles gleefully* That’s right! That’s what he gets! He wasn’t worthy to talk about my mommy. What about you? Do you think you can talk about my mommy? Huh, do yah?
P: No, no, no I don’t.
R: Good. Don’t. I’d hate to get blood all over your nice white suit. *subject laughs again*
P: So anyways, Red, few more questions. These are some hypothetical questions. Ready?
R: Sock’em to me, doc. I got time. Thirty years of time! *subject laughs*
P: Yes… Um, okay. Let’s say you see a guy you don’t like-
R: I take him to the basement, and I cut him up into little pieces. Slowly. So he can feel it. I wouldn’t want him not to feel it. That would be so bad of me. I’m a very good host, you see. I’d hate for someone not to get the full experience of being in my home.
P: Uh… Huh. Uh, so let’s say someone was in your house-
R: Oh, I love having guests. Anyone that walks through my front door is welcome. Y’know, people used to think my house was haunted. People used to dare each other to go there. People used to… disappear.
P: Uh… Err… You know what? I can’t take any more of this. I was trained to talk to serial killers, nutjobs, slashers, arsonists, I, I, I just… I can’t take this! You’re crazy! You’re insane! IO just… *Psychologist is heard yelling, as Red laughs on in the background. The tape is turned off.*

{Psychological analysis, dated 2/15/1977}
The first results of our tape recorded screenings indicate that the subject is not aware of the fact that murder is generally considered taboo. He does not seem to care that he has ended the lives of many innocent people. Furthermore, we have noticed that the subject gets increasingly restless throughout extended periods of talking, and will display this, sometimes, in the form of playing mind games. These mind games thus far have consisted almost entirely of sarcastic answers, reluctance to cooperate, and childish repetition. The subject also appears to have a morbid, dark sense of humor, as observed throughout the recording. Not only this, he seems to be outright hostile at the psychologists who dared to hold a session with him. The thing is, he was incredibly clever with his hostility; during the first recording, there was no case of pure rage directed at the doctor. While there was a fair amount of wry humor, and diabolical intent, verbally, he never actually tried to assault the psychologist. So based on this first encounter, it should be duly noted that the thing called Red is homicidal, fond of cat-and-mouse warfare, and is a deeply disturbed individual.

From the second encounter, we only see how deeply disturbed he gets. The subject sometimes kills the people he does, just to see their blood. This is one of the truest signs of somebody with no regard for the value of human life, and he is to be feared for this heinous ignorance by choice. Another purpose for his mindless slaughter is that he seems to have a sick obsession with transplanting organs into his own body, and collecting them in jars, probably hidden in various stashes. There are very few among us who are not sickened in the slightest by such macabre gore- yet this thing seems to thrive on it. He treats barbarically removing the organs of other living things as if it were commonplace; a normal, human thing that everybody does! This is possibly the single-most disturbing thing about the subject thus far. His final reason for slaughter is that his mother was killed by humans, and therefore his murders are apparently all an act of genocide for her sake. This is perhaps the most astounding insight we’ve found into his psyche; it provides him with a motive for his murders, a motive for his insanity, and reason for his hatred of humanity. Another thing it told us is that he is extremely aggressive over any mention of his mother, probably due to a protective instinct, wherein he feels the need to defend his mother against everyone, even just the mention of her.

The third session was another beneficial one. Through the final interview, at the cost of a skilled psychiatric specialist, and his sanity, we gained insight on Red’s mind’s inner workings. The main detail we wonder about is this Crow character of his. The descriptions he gave of her were obvious signs of schizophrenia. He was also reportedly as aggressive about Crow as he was over his mother. Also to be of notice, Crow seems to be a sort of scapegoat for his reasons to kill, as he seems to rely on “her” guidance to kill. He apparently speaks to Crow and believes that she is speaking back. He also believes that Crow is a tangible person, and can be seen by everyone else, which is most certainly not the case at all. Also to be noted is that the subject answered our hypothetical questions in the simplest, but most terrifying, methods, both of which ended with his choosing murder over the normal human reactions to the questions. Not only this, but the sheer personality of the subject was enough to cause a highly trained psychological analyst to lose his own mind; in short, we have something of a psychological genius in our midst. He should be regarded with extreme caution. This subject is one of homicidal, unstable mind, and is never, EVER, to be approached carelessly. If you value your life, I advise you to avoid Red at all costs.

LOVE:
→ Blood
→ Death
→ Blood
→ Collecting body parts
→ Blood
→ Agony
→ Blood
→ Murder
→ Blood
→ Corpses
→ Blood
→ Pleasing his dear, sweet mommy
→ BLOOD
→ His big sister Crow (He never had a sister :P)
→ BLOOD
→ Anatomy
→ BLOOD.
→ Talking
→ BLOOOOOOOOD.
→ His toys of torment
→ BLOOD!
→ The color red
→ (You can tell what goes here by now, nay? :3 )

HATE:
→ Not getting his way
→ The nasty people that came and took his mommy away
→ ("They came and picked her up yesterday, but hey, that's okay. I'm normal!"xD Could nay resist~)
→ People that insult his mommy
→ Dysfunctional organs
→ Humans

DEEPEST SECRET:
→ He has recurring nightmares of his mother being pulled away from him as he runs towards her, by all of his victims, until his lgs shatter and he can no longer chase after her, and hopelessly gives up.

IDOL:
→ His big sister, Crow (Actually, a schizophrenic hallucination, in the form of a visual representation of his supposed spiritual guide)

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HISTORY:
→ First Ten Years of Life (1896-1906)
{Journal entry by Heather Dunn, 8/20/1896}
Yesterday, one of the most amazing moments in the world occurred, in that tiny hospital a few blocks from here; my son was born. After nine long, hard months, the reward was beyond words. His name is Ryan, and he has his father’s eyes. He’s the most beautiful baby in all of the world. I just have this feeling, this tiny inkling, that he will be one to live a full, complete life. He’s going to be famous one day. I can feel it. I just know he will be. And when he is, I’ll be so proud of him.

{Journal entry by Heather Dunn, sometime in 1898, approx. mid-winter}
Ryan said his first words today. We don’t really understand what they meant, but he said “crow” over and over while playing with his toys. We checked the windows outside, but there weren’t any crows for him to have been looking at, so we aren’t sure what he was talking about. After that incident, he said “mommy” like most children first say. I’m not sure why, but I feel like there might be something a bit off about Ryan. Something strange… I just don’t know what. To be honest, I’m a bit afraid for him…

{Journal entry by Heather Dunn, 1900}
We took Ryan to a psychiatrist today. Ever since that day, two years ago, he’s been talking more and more about Crow. It turned out that he thinks Crow is a real person. It would be fine and all if Crow were just an imaginary friend, but, he seems to think she’s too real for that. He’s been blaming things on her now, such as knocking over breakables in the house, or putting some of my antique candles in the fire. I had nowhere else to go, and I still can’t believe I had to turn to a therapist. But, if it’s for the best, I suppose it could work out…

{Medical log entry by Dr. Steven Ray, 6/14/1900}
After asking the patient, young Ryan Dunn, a few questions, and performing some new tests on him, we have determined that he is suffering from a disease called Dementia Praecox (~(Schizophrenia, today)~). As the patient is still rather young, we are still working on some possible treatments for this illness, before it gets any worse. Thus far, it seems he hears voices and sees hallucinations of a character called Crow. He has described her as being about five to six years older than he is, and almost like a ghostly entity, in appearance. So far, she has been instructing him to do things he would otherwise not consider doing, such as spilling some glasses of water we set up in an experiment. It will only be a matter of time before the patient advances to performing more unspeakable acts, if he is not treated properly, and quickly.

Other than his Dementia Praecox, we have found that he is a relatively ordinary young boy. He plays with his toys, gets along with others as well as children can be expected to, and we haven’t found any other signs of his disease. Potentially, with treatment, he can be a normal child again, free of any mental illness.

{Journal entry by Heather Dunn, a few days after Ryan’s diagnosis, 1900}
I’m not sure how to take this. Apparently, my son, my perfect little boy, is crazy. And I don’t mean crazy like, he just likes to play a lot, and he has too much energy, I mean he’s actually insane! I just don’t know what to think of this. Is the doctor lying? He doesn’t seem crazy. He’s a perfectly ordinary child, I think. I guess he’s just a little too imaginative.

{Journal entry by Heather Dunn, 9/27/1901}
This is bad. This is really bad. I know he didn’t do it. He couldn’t have done it, except… Well, he said Crow did it. He was crying, I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know how Fred fell down the stairs. He said Crow pushed him, that he told her not to but that she wouldn’t listen. I wanted to tell him Crow wasn’t real, I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Maybe it came from my parenting. I was always so soft on him, and his father had to be the strict one, because I wasn’t. This is probably all my fault. I never meant to cause this!

But he’s still my son. I had to bury the body for him. I feel so terrible. I’m a horrible person, I buried my dead husband! It was night time, and the neighbors were asleep, so I don’t think anyone saw me. But what will I do when people notice he’s gone missing? I’ll have to make something up, and soon people will discover the truth. The horrible, wicked truth, that I’m a terrible person. But… I did it for my son. That justifies it. Right? Right?

{Journal entry by Heather Dunn, early 1903}
I don’t think it’s safe here anymore. No, nobody found out about Fred. I told everyone that he walked out. It took some little white lies, but everything worked out. No, now I’m afraid of this war between Creta and Amestris. The Amestrians are getting closer every day to our town, so close to the border of the countries. I’m worried that they may soon attack, and when they do, me and Ryan will be in danger. It isn’t good to be here now. Not in the middle of the battlefield, during a war. If they attack our home, I have no doubt in my mind that we will both die. I can’t let that happen. If they do come here, and if they do invade our town, I’ll do everything in my power to keep Ryan safe.

{Undocumented Events of Importance Pertaining to the Past}
It was a dreary, terrible day when it happened. Amestrians actually had broken through the Cretan border, and were attacking cities on the border, pillaging homes, and causing a general state of panic. Psychological warfare, some people defined it. Of course, the part we will focus on is that Amestrians were quickly approaching the Dunn household in Oxford. And they were coming up quickly.

Little Ryan Dunn watched in curiosity, wondering who they were. “Mommy, there are some strange men outside. Can I go see if they want to play?” Heather Dunn walked over to see what her child was talking about, and her eyes were immediately set in terror. They were here. Her worst fears had come true. She watched as a commando-type soldier pointed at their house, and soldiers came marching to their doors. She scooped her son up and ran to his room. There was no escape for her, but she knew how to keep him safe. She’d planned this for ages. He had a hardwood floor, so it was easy.

“Mommy, what are you doing?”
“Sh, sh, shh… Quiet honey, quiet. Mommy needs to concentrate.” And indeed she did. She was trying to draw a large circle on the ground with a bit of chalk. Soon, she was done with the detailed contraption, and only then did she hear the soldiers knocking at the door. Soon they would come in. That would not do, oh no, not at all. She clasped her shoulders on Ryan’s shoulders. “Ryan, I don’t have much time. I want you to do exactly what I say. When the men get here, you won’t make a noise. You will. Not. Move. Wait for them to leave. And when they leave? Listen to Crow. She’ll keep you alive.” Yes. Listen to Crow, she said. If she knew what Crow would tell Ryan, then her message was as clear as day; she wanted Ryan to kill the soldiers that were coming to take her away from him. It was not an ordinary request, but at that precise moment, she wasn’t all there. “Will you do that, Ryan?” he nodded, still smiling. She handed him a doll, Red. It was always one of his favorite toys, and while boys didn’t normally play with dolls, she allowed him the luxury to do so. It had long red hair, and he’d dressed it in some old baby clothes of his, which didn’t quite fit it too well. “Okay Ryan, I want you to stand in this circle and hold Red. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure, mommy. Mommy, I think the big boys are coming closer. I can hear them, they opened the front door. They should have knocked, right? You told me to always knock.” With a pained expression, she forced a smile, fighting tears. “Yes, Ryan. They should have knocked, you’re right. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mommy!” As these last words were spoken, she placed her hands on the array of chalk. If everything went according to plan, Ryan was about to become Red…

The small child known as Ryan was out like a light after the alchemy took place, and there was no visible movement in Red either. At first, Heather thought she’d failed. She cleaned the array and placed her son’s body in a bed, placing the doll on a chest nearby. That was when the men found her. As she was riddled with bullets, she fell backwards. Soon they shot her son’s body too, though in her heart of hearts, she knew that body was long dead. But in the corner of her eye, she saw something. Red had blinked. You can understand the confusion when the Amestrian soldiers heard the dying woman’s laughter.

As they started to leave, one lingered behind. A familiar voice sounded from beside Red, a girl sitting on the chest, bloodstained, with her death-like skin glimmering with her bloodlust. A malevolent grin on her face, she almost purred into his ears; “If Red kills him so that Crow may see his blood… Crow would be ever so happy.”
“But Mommy said not to-”
“Those men killed Mother. Crow does not like those men. What would Mother say if you didn’t kill them for Crow? She also said listen to Crow. Crow knows what is best for Red.” And the small child’s toy nodded. He silently climbed down from the chest and retrieved a pair of scissors from the desk placed in his room. Creeping up behind the soldier, he accidentally stepped on a toy. The man turned around, rifle pointed miles over Red’s head. His eyes widened as he saw a doll with scissors, standing up, staring up at him. His eyes froze like this forever as that doll shoved the scissors into his stomach and twisted. And twisted. And twisted. Until Crow told him to stop…

{Report of the Cretan police force, immediately following the attack by Amestris}
While investigating the civilian casualties of this attack, we found something interesting. In the Dunn residence, we found evidence that of about seven Amestrians that broke in, all seven were killed. There were no explanations as to who killed them, but we conclude, from evidence, that it was either a group of vigilante militia, or while unlikely, Heather Dunn, before death. At this house, however, everybody inside was reportedly dead. Until further notice is given, this house is to be reported as condemned. We are boarding up the doors and windows today, and like most of the neighborhood, this house will be a monument to the dark day when Creta was so brutally assaulted. But for now, the fate of these Amestrian soldiers is a cold case, though we are extremely grateful for the heroes that did it. May they live in our minds for eternity.

{Journal entry by Red, approximately 1905-1906}
I figure since mommy teached me how to write, I’d make a journal like she had. I don’t know what to put in it though. All I know is that I’ve been in here for a long time and I can’t get out. Somebody locked all the doors and windows and even the chimney! How is Santa Claus supposed to get in here? Though, maybe that part’s a good part, cus Crow doesn’t like Santa Claus. She says that if anybody comes down our chimney, that I should cut their stomach open with a hack saw. Oh, and did I mention? I know how to read too. That’s most of what I’ve been doing now. The Mean-Man was a doctor, I think, and he has all these books about people and their bodies, and he even had some stuff in a desk. The books called some of the tools scalpels and bone saws and they are pretty nifty. Crow says that getting blood all over these nice tools would make her happy. And if Crow is happy, that means Mommy is happy too, I think. And I want Mommy and Crow to be happy. So I need to get these tools all bloody and stuff.

Ages Eleven Through Twenty (1906-1916)

{Journal entry, by Red, sometime in 1909}
Well, they still have me boarded up here, and I’m a bit scared. Mommy never said I’d have to stay here forever and ever. I don’t know why I’m still here. I think I should have been allowed to leave by now. I’m scared, and I don’t understand this. Crow says it’s okay. She says to wait patiently, that humans are stupid and they have a burning need to get into everything and be nosy and stupid. But… Me and Mommy are human, aren’t we? And I think Crow is human too, but she says she isn’t. She says none of the three of us are human. If we aren’t human, then what are we?

{Journal entry, by Red, sometime in 1913}
After reading enough of the Mean-Man’s doctor books, I think I know how to do some of this stuff. I just need some people to practice on. Crow says it would be nice if some people came in here. I hope some people come in here soon. I learned a lot of the book stuff, but I don’t know what to do with what I know. Maybe I can take some people apart and put them back together? That would be fun, maybe. Or I could put Mommy’s body together. Well, not her body exactly, but maybe I could make a new body for her and she can just sorta walk into it. Then we could live happily ever after together, because I love my mommy. Crow loves Mommy too. She says that we’re the only ones that love our mommy. Mean-Man didn’t love her. He acted like he did, and I thought he did at first, but Crow said he didn’t love mommy. And if he didn’t love mommy, then he had to go away. Crow says that everyone has to go away. Does that mean that nobody loves mommy besides me and Crow? That’s sad…

Ages Twenty-One Through Thirty (1916-1926)

{Journal entry by Red, sometime in 1922}
Today was a great day! It made up for all of the other days that weren’t as good before, ever since Mommy got taken away. Two people came into the house after they took down the boards on the door, and then they walked around. They talked about how the house was haunted, and I watched them for a while. I didn’t talk because I was curious. They were dressed so funny! There was a boy and a girl, and I don’t exactly know why, but they weren’t dressed at all like people dress usually. Maybe this is the future and I was alone here for a billion years? Either way, me and Crow watched them, because Crow was there too, watching them with me. After we watched them for a while, one of them went away to find the bathroom. Crow said to kill the girl while the boy went away. She told me to get Mean-Man’s scalpel and to cut straight across her throat. So I did as Crow said and I went and got the scalpel. Then I really quietly sneaked up behind her, but she turned around when I got closer. At first she was confused, but then she screamed. She didn’t scream for long though, because I cut her throat and then she started making funny gurgly noises instead. But after the gurgly stuff stopped, the guy came in and he yelled. Then he pulled a book off the bookshelf and held it up to throw at me. I didn’t really know what to do, so I threw the scalpel at him, and it stabbed him in the shoulder. He screamed a lot, so I ran and jumped up, and I knocked him into the wall. He fell down, and I grabbed the scalpel and I stabbed him until everything was covered in blood.

Afterwards, Crow was happy. She said that she was pleased with how I killed the guy, even though she hadn’t told me what to do. I’m glad Crow was happy. I like it when Crow is happy. Afterwards, Crow told me to clean up the blood, and there was a lot of it. I put some of it in jars and the rest, I washed up with water and some rags. Crow said to dig a hole in the basement and bury the rags. After that, she said find some more jars and use the scalpel and stuff to cut open the bodies and take stuff out, like in the books. Except the books didn’t say anything about taking things out~ I had ever so much fun with that. I now had a bunch of their nasty, yucky organs in jars, which I set up on a bookshelf in the basement. I had to bury the bodies and stuff, but I kept some of the bones that I thought looked neat. Maybe I would find a use for them later. Oh, and Crow said for me to keep the organs fresh in their jars with some weird stuff that I found in the kitchen and Mean-Man’s old workroom. What an interesting day, this was!

Ages Thirty-One Through Forty (1926-1936)

{Journal entry by Red, sometime in 1935}
After doing a bit of research in the books again, and some other stuff I got out of the workroom, I figured out some neat stuff. The organs I had from before had all rotten away, because I needed a way to preserve them. Thankfully, another three people came over, and I got new organs and new blood. Now with proper preservatives I mixed, I think I can keep some of the organs and the blood for a long time. Or at least, I can keep them for a while, in good shape.

So I tried to do something cool; since my body is made of plastic, I can cut it open and it’s hollow. So I decided to implant some of the organs into my body. I had to rework the bones I had with a lot of tools and stuff, and some metal bits and pieces lying around, but I made myself an artificial skeleton. With some plastic tubing we had in the house, I made some faux veins for the blood to be in, and I attached it to the heart, which I put in the makeshift ribcage. It was a bit big, considering how small my body is, but it fit well enough. No room for lungs though. I also managed to fit in a stomach, but without the juices or any other digestive system parts; I’m not too good of a surgeon, and my body wouldn’t be able to hold all THAT. I also put in a brain in my head, and a pair of kidneys in my hips. Of course, I didn’t need all of that stuff. But it seems like it could be useful one day. I’m just not sure how, yet…

Ages Forty-One Through Fifty (1936-1946)

{Journal entry by Red, sometime in 1940}
I’ve killed a whole bunch of nosy people lately. Over the past couple decades, there were a lot of awful, nosy, horrible people, and I now have a lot of organs buried under the basement floor. I even managed to replace the ones that had rotted inside my body every once in a while. There was ever so much blood each time, too. I like blood. No, I love blood. The smell of it, the sight of it… It leaves me wanting more. Am I a bad person for that? I don’t think so. Crow doesn’t think so. She likes blood too. I guess we can love blood together. Just so long as the bodies don’t stack too high, anyways!~ I may end up running out of room for bodies. So far, I’ve killed eighteen people. The last one I killed was a police officer. I bet he was investigating the house. I should probably leave soon. But I’m taking this journal with me; it has a lot of stuff in it. Besides, I can find a new place to live. Where there isn’t a mob forming in the distance. Bye-bye for now~ Next time I add to this, me and crow will be long gone from here. I’m gonna miss this house.

{News article; Mob Burns Down Rumored Haunted House}, dated in 1940; exact date not recorded
Recently, at a well-known neighborhood, made a national monument in honor of civilian casualties of war in the early 1900s, a mob had formed and did what no police force had the conviction to do; they burned down the haunted house rumored to be there. Bodies were found buried underground in a basement, and jars were found scattered about. Somebody had been making this house their home for a while now, and had been killing people off, possibly to sell organs to doctors, when transplants weren’t willingly available. It is presumed that the killer was burned while in the house, as candles were lit throughout the building before the mob torched it. While the police certainly do not applaud such vigilante justice, they did not conduct any arrests for arson or murder, based on the persons involved. They did, however, get warrants to search the other decrepit houses in this neighborhood, hoping to find the killer before the killer strikes again.

{Journal entry by Red, sometime in 1940, after the burning}
I still can’t believe they burned down the house! That was mommy’s house, and I lived there for a really long time! It just isn’t fair. Now I have to find a new place to live, and there are hardly any houses I can live in. It just isn’t fair. I don’t see why they had to go and do that. Ah well, I guess me and Crow can camp out wherever we find a place to sleep, and then we can find an actual house later on. That would be fun, right? I’ve always wanted to have my own house…

{Journal entry by Red, September of 1946}
I had to replace my yucky old organs. I still have my scalpel and hacksaw, but I didn’t use those to get the replacements. I found a neato harpoon at a dock one night, so I took it and when the fisherman came to get it, I threw it in his thigh. It stuck pretty good, but it didn’t quite kill him. I had to cut his head off afterwards, and then took my new organs. I buried my old ones under the dock, and threw his body into the ocean. I think I’m keeping the harpoon, though. I really like it, and I think it could let me make more blood. Crow says the harpoon is beautiful, that it makes lots and lots of blood. And blood makes me happy, and it makes Crow happy, and I bet it makes mommy happy too. I can feel it.

Ages Fifty-One Through Seventy (1946-1966)

{Journal entry by Red, 1951}
It has been a long way since me and Crow left home, but I think I found us a new one. There was a really old office building not too far out of the way from Oxford, so once I found it, I found out that it was empty. Apparently it was mainly used as a warehouse after they shut down the office, so we moved in and made ourselves at home on the third floor. I like our new home, I think me and Crow are gonna be here for a while!

Ages Seventy-One Through Eighty (1966-1976)

{Journal entry, by Red, 1966}
Well, I love the music floating around these days! Napoleon XIV will be the very LAST human I kill, just so he can continue writing his songs! If I had a record player, I’d play his record more often, but unfortunately I am limited to hearing it only when I walk by a party which is playing it. Thankfully, it seems to play almost everywhere. I like the song, “They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!” in particular, because its lyrics remind me of myself a bit. A total freaking loony!

Oh yes, and I also feel like admitting to a little fun I had the other day. A girl walked into my home a few days back, and I had ever so much fun. I played hide and seek with her, and she lost. She just couldn’t find me before I found her. She wasn’t very good at playing, though. Didn’t even follow the trail I left her, she just tried to find an exit. Really boring, that girl. I quite enjoyed shoving a harpoon through her chest. Thankfully, it was nighttime, so I cleaned up the mess and left the body out by a dumpster somewhere nearby. Very fun game though; I should play games like that more often.

{News article; Body Found near Dumpster, November 15, 1966}
In recent news, a dead body was discovered outside of a McRonalds on Johnson Avenue, yesterday morning. The girl has been identified, but will remain anonymous in this report. The police have released suspicions that a serial killer is at play here, and they are doing everything within their power to find this man. For now, this killer will be referred to as Killer X. We advise all readers not to approach anybody you don’t know at night, especially if they are engaged in suspicious activity. Also, avoid walking alone at night, and walk on main city roads. We will have more updates when we get a new lead on this story.

{Journal entry by Red, March 4, 1975}
Today was fun, most fun indeed. Outside my home, some guy was walking down the sidewalk, and I heard Crow say to kill him. Nobody was around, so I got my harpoon and came up behind him. After I threw the harpoon through his back, I took out his organs to replace my old ones, which looked really funny, and I left his body where it was; I didn’t feel like dragging it anywhere. I had to clean my harpoon on the spot though, so I didn’t track blood anywhere. Then, I went back to my house and watched from a really tall window as people found the body after a little while. Humans are so silly. And bloody. Silly blood-bag humans!

{News article; Killer X is Back!, March 5, 1975}
Recently, a corpse was found on Johnson Avenue, matching the killing style of the previous victim of Killer X. This makes it the second time Killer X has been responsible for a killing in this area, that we know of. The good news, though, is that an anonymous person has taken the liberty to take photos of the crime as it happened. He took four snapshots and reportedly fled the scene, to go share this valuable lead with the police. Detailed above is an image of the killing, which shows the killer’s appearance. If you see this thing, do not approach it. Consider it armed and dangerous. Until our next update, we will try to keep up with the police in discovering the whereabouts of Killer X. If you have any information, give us and your local police station, a call.

Ages Eighty-One Through Ninety (1976-1986)

{The warrant for the arrest of Killer X, dated September 12th, 1976}
Above is a picture of what we think the killer looks like. Inexplicably, the slasher labeled Killer X, resembles a red-haired doll. If you see this thing, do not approach it. Do not try to perform a citizen’s arrest. Do not attempt confrontation. Do not attempt to attack it. Call the authorities immediately, and get away from it as quickly as possible. It is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. All members of the police, federal agencies, or military, are authorized to use lethal force, and to treat this killer as a national threat. You have permission to shoot on sight, if capture is not possible.
Killer X is wanted dead or alive. Reward is $12,000.00 cash, for all involved.

{A security camera recorded this video at an old office building}
A small doll-like figure was merrily skipping, stained with blood, as he dragged a male body towards an office storage room. As he dragged the corpse, one can see a police officer coming up in the background. The officer moves against the wall as the doll turns around. The doll doesn’t see the officer, and carries on. Back-up arrives and many guns are trained on the doll. The officer in front is seen speaking to the doll, which sets the body down and pulls a harpoon. Starting to throw it at the man in front, an entry-hole is seen as appearing on his chest, possibly from a sniper’s bullet. Fluids pour from the wound, possibly blood, as the doll is distracted. In distraction, officers quickly surround and capture the doll, before moving off-screen with it.

{Quote, by Red, upon arrest, January 6, 1977}
“Sure, you caught me! Good job doing that, bravo, coppy-cops, BRAVO! I’ve been around for a long time, though, and I don’t think you can keep me away forever. Of everything I’ve learned in a bunch of years, I can get a lawyer. And I can win my case too! Haha! You’ll see. I didn’t do anything wrong. Just you watch.”

{Journal entry by Red, January 18, 1977}
Well, they let me bring my journal to jail. That’s something good, because Crow said that mommy would have liked for me to write in my journal every day. The thing is, though, I have nothing to do here! Nothing to write about! Honestly, this is just awful. They knew I’d kill my inmates, so I’m in solitary confinement. I have to sit here for thirty years. That’s a bit of time! If I can’t feel the warmth of blood over my fingers soon, I may go crazy! Well, crazier. I’ve always been a bit crazy, you know. Even my mommy said so; you can see it at the beginning of my journal. But that’s okay, I don’t mind. She didn’t mind that I was crazy.

{Journal entry by Red, August 16, 1977}
They came and took me away, ha-haaa, to the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time, and I was happy to see those nice young men, so full of blood, when they came and took me away ha-haaa!!!!!! I’m just an average man! With an average life. I work from nine to five! A slasher, day or night!!!!! I’m a schizophrenic, hyperactive, necromantic, homicidal, hemophiliac with a scalpel glued to my hand! What’s YOUR claim to fame?

{Journal entry by Red, March 23, 1979}
Wow, I’ve been here for such a long time already. I wonder if they’ll let me out soon, for good behavior. I mean, I’ve only got ten thousand and five hundred and nine days left here! I bet they could cut that down to just another month, right? This is a bit extreme, y’know. Who would’ve expected to get put over the hills and far away for thirty years, JUST for a couple brutal killings and mutilations? I think people are just stupid, to be honest.

{Journal entry by Red, January 24, 1981}
I feel so freaking SPECIAL. They said I could pretend I had an anniversary cake today, after five years here. I JUST FREAKING LOVE PLAYING PRETEND! My cake has a human liver at the middle, and the icing is just DRIPPING with blood, glorious blood. That should make mommy happy, I think. Just the thought of it makes me happy. I haven’t had cake in so long… I haven’t been able to eat cake for so long…

Oh, and did you realize the year? This is 1981! I bet the music scene this decade is gonna fall to crap. Hehe. Once I get outta here, I’m tracking down the 80s pop stars and crap, and I’ll have me a nice bit of time…

Ages Ninety-One Through One Hundred (1986-1996)

{Red’s letter to Madonna, April 1, 1987}
Dear Madonna,
Hello, my name is Red, and I’m in jail right now. I just wanted to send this letter to make it clear to you that the MOMENT they let me out of this craphole, I’m coming to see you. I mean, I’m just your BIGGEST fan in the whole WORLD! Really, your music is ALL that’s keeping me sane in this place. I just really, really want to thank you. I mean, I play your songs Over and Over, so that Everybody can hear them! I’m just that Crazy for You! After I finish my sentence, I hope I Live to Tell you all this in person. Heck, just meeting you in person would make me one Lucky Star[/]u, eh? Well, I have to stop writing now, the warden seems to be [u]Causing a Commotion, and I should probably figure out why. You’ll See me when I’m Miles Away from this place, and we can Get Together then.
Until then, Bye Bye Baby,
Red.
PS: APRIL FOOLS!! I hate your music, and I hate you! You suck, and the 1980s has the WORST music of the century! I would know, I’ve been alive since 1896!

{Journal Entry by Red, sometime in 1992}
Well, now that the 80s are dead and gone, I think I’ve come to realize something; that was the BEST era of music yet! Well, the 60s can’t be beat, but the 80s come in tight second. Honestly, I don’t know why I sent my letters to Madonna, of all people. I could’ve sent some actual fan letters to Napolean XIV, or the Rockwells and Michael Jackson. I think of everyone I’m going to kill, I’ll save those guys for later. I’d really hate taking away their talent, even if mommy wants everyone dead. Crow doesn’t really like music, but I’ve got a feeling even she likes the record player the prison gave me. I guess if I have thirty years to waste here, I can enjoy some nice noise while I do it.

{Journal Entry by Red, December 31, 1995}
Would you like some more tea, Alice? Oh, yes, this is fresh tea. Perfectly good tea. Don’t you want some tea Alice? You don’t? Why don’t you want any tea, Alice? Why aren’t you talking to me Alice? Alice? Listen to what I’m asking you! Unless you WANT me to cut your other eye out? Unless you LIKE having your arms slit over and over and over and over? Unless you ENJOY having your stomach shoved through your throat? Do you want me to do that again, Alice? There’s a raccoon chewing on your hand, Alice. Alice, the raccoon ate your hand. Would you like some more tea, Alice?

Alice in Wonderland is an awesome book. Not nearly bloody enough. I liked the Mad Hatter, though. I just wish he was crazier. I like when characters in books are crazy, because I can relate to that. Do you know how HARD it is to relate to loveable, peppy characters that I could care less about? Honestly, I wish I could just kill everyone in every book, ever. That would be fun. Crow thinks that would be fun. I’ve been in jail for far too long. Oh well. Only four thousand and eighteen days, and eighteen hours left. Now I kind of want some tea!~ Happy New Year, to me… Happy New Year to me… 4018.75 days in this cell, 4018.75 days! Live a day, bloodlust grows, 4017.75 days in this cell! ………

Ages 101 Through 110 (1996-2006)

{Journal entry by Red, February 15, 1997}
Boy, this is getting really tiresome. All I’ve been doing is wasting taxpayer dollars here. Geesh, if I were the federal legal system, I’d have had me pumped full of lead, dangling from a gallows pole, on fire by now. This is actually quite ridiculous! What am I talking about, I’ve been around a hundred or so years now, why would I want to ever die?

{Journal entry by Red, December 31, 1999}
Wow, it is so hard to believe that I’ve survived two turnings of centuries. In about five minutes, I’ll have existed in every day of the 1900s. What an interesting feat. I think I’ll dedicate this accomplishment to all of my victims, of course, past and future, Madonna, who helped me kill a few years with some harassment letters, hehe, Michael Jackson for allowing me to actually hear something decent, my mommy of course, Crow for giving me advice and guidance, and obviously humanity for being so stupid and easy to kill. Five… Four… Three… Two… One! BOOMKAKABOOMFREAKINGBOOMKABOOM!!!! I THOUGHT the apocalypse would sound cooler than it did. So that was my impression of it.

Well, that was disappointing, Apparently those paranoid idiots in the papers were hideously, terribly wrong. Which is kinda funny. But I really did want the Earth to blow up. It would be a pleasant end to humanity; one of fire, death, and blood. I love blood… Only two thousand and seventy-five more days!

{Journal entry by Red, sometime in 2006}
Man, this SUCKS! I’ve been in jail for twenty-eight years now, couldn’t they have at LEAST cut me some slack and let me out on good behavior? I mean, it’s not like I’ve KILLED anybody, right? At least, not any of my fellow INMATES in solitary confinement! Not the WARDENS that come around every once in a while to look at the FREAK in his cell! I didn’t even kill those psychologists, back when I first got instituted here. Messed them up pretty bad, that’s for sure, but I didn’t KILL them! They just left their jobs and became mental patients to recover from the trauma involved with talking to me. Not MY fault they were hopelessly human IDIOTS. I don’t know, maybe I’m just getting senile. Silly, schizophrenic, hyperactive, necromantic, homicidal, hemophilic, senile Mr. Dunn.!~

Ages 110 Through 118 (2006-2012)

{Journal entry by Red, January 17, 2007}
They came and took me away, ha-haaa~ One day left in this cell, ha-haaa~ They’ll never ever EVER catch me again, ha-haaa~ I’m gonna find a loophole, ha-haaa~ Because I need to kill some more people, ha-haaa~ And I want to stay out of this craphole, ha-haaa~ Time to find a job with a license to kill, ha-haaaaaa!~ Goodbye, rubber room, goodbye wardens. Tomorrow, I walk as a free man! Mommy would be ever so proud of me… Soon, blood shall spill for her again. And again. And again. And again.

{Newspaper article; Crazed Killer X Released After Thirty Years, January 17, 2007}
Tomorrow, one of the most controversial moves in history will take place at a Cretan maximum security prison. The notorious felon, branded Killer X is to be set free on an unsuspecting world in one day. This killer is best known as the killer doll, a human soul in a doll’s body, which has been convicted of the murders of four people, and is suspected of killing closer to twelve or more. We do not have any confirmed word from the prison’s wardens yet, as to whether they will actually go through with this bold move or not. All we know is that when he was first placed in prison all those years ago, he was in his early eighties; it was expected that he would die in prison. Now that he survived the odds, there seems to be no choice but to let him leave, as is the law that we are forced to obey. Hopefully, some loophole in the criminal justice system will be found in time to prevent this deranged maniac from striking again. We will be keeping you updated on this turn of events in later issues.

{Red talking. Like. Right now. O.o January 18, 2012}
Yeah, I’ve been out of jail for five years now. It was a long time to wait in there, but I did it. And I struck again. Silly newspaper. You will never catch me. Run, run, run, fast as you can, you’ll never catch me; My name is Ryan Edward Dunn, and I’ll kill you. I’ve kept on the down-low for a while now, but baby, I’m back! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!~

...........................................................................

TRIVIA:
→ Cretan, Amestrian
→ Red is rather schizophrenic
→ Red enjoys mindless slaughter of everyone always
→ Red has no allegiance to the Black Company. He merely works there because he wants a way to kill people that doesn't involve them coming to him by chance
→ Red has been known to perform biopsies on conscious humans, while nonchalantly discussing their anatomy
→ Red is fond of hearing people scream
→ Red has no emotions other than pleasure and rage. He cannot feel remorse, guilt, sympathy, grief, or fear, etc...
→ Red has been known to implant people's organs into his own hollowed out, artifical body, just so he can put some of the organs he collects to good use.
→ Red will calmly speak to those who he doesn't wish to kill yet.
→ Based on the above trivia? He wants to kill everyone, but he has a certain way to do it. Some people just happen to be fortunate.

...........................................................................

ALIAS:
→ Jay

OTHER CHARACTERS:
→ Jay, Kean, Ini, Sec, Nyx, Anim, Lily, Wolfy, Molly, Tas o.o

CREATOR'S COMMENTS:
→ HOLYOMG *armflail* T^T Yes, I am indeed masochistic in making this character. But I had to. xD Red compelled me to revive him from his long dead Rp on Gaia Online. owo

CUSTOM RANK:
→ Dollface >:3

...........................................................................

[Reila Tsukino]

WIP XD someone can feel free to pick up the rest if need be, but I got to runnnnnnnnnn


REVISE

1. Description: "and can bench press around 60 pounds, which is around ten times his body mass." -- Being as he is in a doll and the doll isn't human and does not have muscles, technically he wouldn't be able to lift anything (Al has already disproven that). I'm going to go off the idea of mind muscles and say to just lower it a bit to fit with the body mass...

"can move at a top speed of seventeen miles per hour." -- Okay I can run at 5 mph and my grandfather was in the Olympics sooo that's way too high. Maybe if he was a freaking cheetah, but he's a doll soo yeah.

[Guest]

Fixed and fixed!~ Onward to the next set of fix-it challenges! >x3

[Reila Tsukino]

Archiving.

[Guest]

Moving back to Pending on Jay's request. Archival date is 25th Feb.

[Guest]

BUMP~

[Reila Tsukino]

APPROVED

Excellent! <3

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