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"In a word, Walter, what exactly do you know about the Masked Maniac?

"What do I know? I'll tell ya- He's a mother****ing goddamn ****ing barbaric little pig-****ing ******e!!! That's what he is!"

This was the conversation between me and Walter Patterson, formally affiliated with the Lebadev Russian crime family, and one of the few witnesses and survivors of he killing spree of Richard 'Jacket' Fritz, the Mask Maniac of '89. Walter had entered the witness protection program during the massacre but ended up a paranoid wreck of himself after his run-in with Jacket at 'Club Cactus', and the bloodbath that ensued during May 27th, 1989. Walter was a DJ at 'Club Cactus', minding his own business in his booth until Jacket showed up, after killing every Russian in the building, he broke through the soundproof glass, shot up the stereo, and threw him unto the dance floor, with the corpses of his dead party-goers. After Jacket left, Walter was frightened if the Masked Maniac would return to finish him off, surprisingly enough, three hours passed, and Jacket hadn't returned,
but Walter didn't know that, for he was slowly going crazy from the smell, the blood and his dead friends, and sometimes cried a little to pass the time until the police arrived and brought him in on the
situation, but Walter wouldn't have a word of it. Every time he was interrogated, he was calm, mostly, but when Jacket was brought up, he would descend into instant panic, babbling vulgarities, bludgeoning anything that breathes, but was fortunate enough to stay calm enough to maintain avoid detention in an asylum, and was surprisingly sane enough to still DJ, and was allowed to compose for clubs as a benefaction of his parole.

"Jacket? Hmm. Don't know much but, he makes our lives hell."

These were the words of Alan McVicker, an independent convenience store owner, and Jacket's friend for the past three years ever since his retirement from elite military service. Alan has provided all the food and drink Jacket could ever need in his life, and often gave them 'on the house' during his visits. But when he heard the word on the street, and how they related to Jacket, Alan was dumbstruck that he had given free foodstuffs to a killer. After the rampage, his store's popularity began to dwindle, and costumers grew disgusted with the fact that he had given his wares to a murderer. The results were devastating for his business. Crushed by grief, and dwindling costumers, McVicker has keep a low profile since the murders.

"Everything we do, everything we build up, HE destroys."

Enter Mr. Zakhaev, a Russian Mobster operating in the wider Miami area during Jacket's killings, where he was shellshocked after Jacket caused an extreme explosion in a downtown apartment during one of his hits. Fearing for his life, Zakhaev has entered the witness protection program to get his payback against the murderer, and the crime family that left him for dead.

"What?! What kinda sick joke is this?! I thought we were doing a documentary about the Miami Mutilator!!"

This was the outburst of detective Manny Pardo, who had earned his position of an elite policeman after cracking down on Jacket's killings, as well as the other 'Killer Beasts' of which his former partner Randal Coffin, former FBI was a part of, and died soon after his three rampages. Manny was promoted for cracking down on these extreme cases, and dealing with the perpetrators with extreme prejudice. One case he was really interested in taking was that of the Miami Mutilator, a mysterious murderer in the criminal underworld. Even after cracking down on Jacket's killings, the Mutilator became Manny's obsession for the last two years. So his cooperation in the interview was a questionable transaction at best.

"Now detective Pardo, we are both men of the law, but Jacket's killings are just as influential as the Mutilator's..."

"I won't have a word of this! But I alone will catch the Miami Mutilator!

"Sven, restrain him."

"You can't stop me from catching him! My voice will not be denied!"

"It's like he's always one step ahead. And once he sets his eyes on you, heh heh... You'd best believe he's gonna get ya."

Said Alan, who was busy working at the register.

"Who is the Masked Maniac?"
Said Sven;

"-A FREAK!!"

Said Walter,

"An abomination."

said Alan,

"A monstrosity!"

said Zakhaev.

"I know him, I remember him well. He was a good solider, one of the best... I should know, I was his commanding officer. He was damn fine patriot too. Let's say, hypothetically, he might've taken things a bit too far..."

Said Brandon McCartin, Jacket's former commanding officer in the Hawaiian Conflict, and has stood as a father figure to him since Jacket's father died of prostate cancer while he was away fighting in the war.

"I fear no man. But that THING-"

Under the cover of darkness, was a concealed silhouette of The Son of Imran Patricia, Boris Patricia, new boss of the Russian Mafiya. We were lucky enough to get a private interview and glimpse of the new boss of the Russian Mob, and a brief view of their headquarters, inadvertently a tip from Alan. If he was here, we would thank him for the hint, but Boris wouldn't be as pleased. Nonetheless, he closed on up to me and whispered;

"It scares me..."

"He does?

"Yes..."

"Well, alright then... Thank you for your honesty. It's a tragedy, to say the least, of what happened to your old man."

"It's alright, I've moved past that part... Who brought you here anyway, Gordon?"

I couldn't give him the honest answer, lest any 'Killer Beasts' catch on to me.

"Oh, an anonymous tip."

"Alright then, um, I'm glad we had this talk, and you can come back anytime."

"No, I ain't- I ain't talkin' about that freak! Alright?!"

Walter told Sven, no sooner that he started to panic.

"He's- he's not in here, is he?!"

"Walter, just breathe in-"

"How do I get this ****ing thing off?!?"

Walter panicked again and shuffled into another room, eager to get his microphone off his shirt.

"One shudders to imagine what inhuman thoughts lie behind that mask... What dreams of chronic and sustained cruelty?!"

Said Zakhaev as he readied a new cigarette.

"If we could just get rid of Jacket altogether, and give him the ****ig electric chair, or whatever the ***t injection you people use today, I don't give a ***t how he dies! I just want him to leave me alone- AAAAGH!!!"

The doctors told us Walter suffered hallucinations. They said he would hallucinate this: Jacket would barge into the room. In his eyes, he said he saw Jacket with blood all over his coat, and was wearing his tiger mask, holding brass knuckles stained with blood, looking to beat Walter senseless, Sven and I however, saw nothing,

"Walter, just calm down..."

"YOU LEAD HIM RIGHT TO ME!!!"

"Please calm down Walter, nobody's at the door.. No one is going to hurt you..."

"But HE is! I've gotta go...this is all your damn fault!"

No sooner did Walter run for the door, been chased by his
hallucination, and was backed into the corner of his apartment. He
refused to calm down until we left the room, and just like that, his
interview was over.

"I cannot fathom what must go through Jacket's mind. He must be-
completely damaged. Perhaps something happened during the San Fran
Armistice that-"

"What is it Zakhaev?"

"Oh no." *whack!* "AAAAAaaaauugh!!!!"

Suddenly, a man in an octopus mask raised a baseball bat up to Zakhaev's head, and smashed it from the left, for some reason, the stranger decided to spare us from the attack, and told us to leave as he promptly bashes Zakhaev's head in and out, leaving a bloody stain on the floor. We were horrified and left the building as soon as we could, and noticed a strange symbol on the floor, it was a red circle with three lines going across it. Things weren't looking too good, as it wasn't hard to tell that the camera's battery was gong to die on us. We were lucky enough to get footage of the witnesses, and hear their opinions of the killings. Just then, a man in a chameleon mask stood on the sidewalk, holding the neon sunglasses Walter usually wore while composing at the clubs, except it was stained with blood, giving us the impression that the chameleon masked man had murdered him, and there were clues that his head was bashed on, as the chameleon man pulls out scattered bloodied teeth from his pockets. He just- kept staring at us, and pulls out a bat with bloodstains on it, and was looking to charge us-

The tape on the camera ends there. Although we weren't filming, we managed to escape the chameleon masked stranger.

Description

"In a word, Walter, what exactly do you know about the Masked Maniac?

"What do I know? I'll tell ya- He's a mother****ing goddamn ****ing barbaric little pig-****ing ******e!!! That's what he is!"

This was the conversation between me and Walter Patterson, formally affiliated with the Lebadev Russian crime family, and one of the few witnesses and survivors of he killing spree of Richard 'Jacket' Fritz, the Mask Maniac of '89. Walter had entered the witness protection program during the massacre but ended up a paranoid wreck of himself after his run-in with Jacket at 'Club Cactus', and the bloodbath that ensued during May 27th, 1989. Walter was a DJ at 'Club Cactus', minding his own business in his booth until Jacket showed up, after killing every Russian in the building, he broke through the soundproof glass, shot up the stereo, and threw him unto the dance floor, with the corpses of his dead party-goers. After Jacket left, Walter was frightened if the Masked Maniac would return to finish him off, surprisingly enough, three hours passed, and Jacket hadn't returned,
but Walter didn't know that, for he was slowly going crazy from the smell, the blood and his dead friends, and sometimes cried a little to pass the time until the police arrived and brought him in on the
situation, but Walter wouldn't have a word of it. Every time he was interrogated, he was calm, mostly, but when Jacket was brought up, he would descend into instant panic, babbling vulgarities, bludgeoning anything that breathes, but was fortunate enough to stay calm enough to maintain avoid detention in an asylum, and was surprisingly sane enough to still DJ, and was allowed to compose for clubs as a benefaction of his parole.

"Jacket? Hmm. Don't know much but, he makes our lives hell."

These were the words of Alan McVicker, an independent convenience store owner, and Jacket's friend for the past three years ever since his retirement from elite military service. Alan has provided all the food and drink Jacket could ever need in his life, and often gave them 'on the house' during his visits. But when he heard the word on the street, and how they related to Jacket, Alan was dumbstruck that he had given free foodstuffs to a killer. After the rampage, his store's popularity began to dwindle, and costumers grew disgusted with the fact that he had given his wares to a murderer. The results were devastating for his business. Crushed by grief, and dwindling costumers, McVicker has keep a low profile since the murders.

"Everything we do, everything we build up, HE destroys."

Enter Mr. Zakhaev, a Russian Mobster operating in the wider Miami area during Jacket's killings, where he was shellshocked after Jacket caused an extreme explosion in a downtown apartment during one of his hits. Fearing for his life, Zakhaev has entered the witness protection program to get his payback against the murderer, and the crime family that left him for dead.

"What?! What kinda sick joke is this?! I thought we were doing a documentary about the Miami Mutilator!!"

This was the outburst of detective Manny Pardo, who had earned his position of an elite policeman after cracking down on Jacket's killings, as well as the other 'Killer Beasts' of which his former partner Randal Coffin, former FBI was a part of, and died soon after his three rampages. Manny was promoted for cracking down on these extreme cases, and dealing with the perpetrators with extreme prejudice. One case he was really interested in taking was that of the Miami Mutilator, a mysterious murderer in the criminal underworld. Even after cracking down on Jacket's killings, the Mutilator became Manny's obsession for the last two years. So his cooperation in the interview was a questionable transaction at best.

"Now detective Pardo, we are both men of the law, but Jacket's killings are just as influential as the Mutilator's..."

"I won't have a word of this! But I alone will catch the Miami Mutilator!

"Sven, restrain him."

"You can't stop me from catching him! My voice will not be denied!"

"It's like he's always one step ahead. And once he sets his eyes on you, heh heh... You'd best believe he's gonna get ya."

Said Alan, who was busy working at the register.

"Who is the Masked Maniac?"
Said Sven;

"-A FREAK!!"

Said Walter,

"An abomination."

said Alan,

"A monstrosity!"

said Zakhaev.

"I know him, I remember him well. He was a good solider, one of the best... I should know, I was his commanding officer. He was damn fine patriot too. Let's say, hypothetically, he might've taken things a bit too far..."

Said Brandon McCartin, Jacket's former commanding officer in the Hawaiian Conflict, and has stood as a father figure to him since Jacket's father died of prostate cancer while he was away fighting in the war.

"I fear no man. But that THING-"

Under the cover of darkness, was a concealed silhouette of The Son of Imran Patricia, Boris Patricia, new boss of the Russian Mafiya. We were lucky enough to get a private interview and glimpse of the new boss of the Russian Mob, and a brief view of their headquarters, inadvertently a tip from Alan. If he was here, we would thank him for the hint, but Boris wouldn't be as pleased. Nonetheless, he closed on up to me and whispered;

"It scares me..."

"He does?

"Yes..."

"Well, alright then... Thank you for your honesty. It's a tragedy, to say the least, of what happened to your old man."

"It's alright, I've moved past that part... Who brought you here anyway, Gordon?"

I couldn't give him the honest answer, lest any 'Killer Beasts' catch on to me.

"Oh, an anonymous tip."

"Alright then, um, I'm glad we had this talk, and you can come back anytime."

"No, I ain't- I ain't talkin' about that freak! Alright?!"

Walter told Sven, no sooner that he started to panic.

"He's- he's not in here, is he?!"

"Walter, just breathe in-"

"How do I get this ****ing thing off?!?"

Walter panicked again and shuffled into another room, eager to get his microphone off his shirt.

"One shudders to imagine what inhuman thoughts lie behind that mask... What dreams of chronic and sustained cruelty?!"

Said Zakhaev as he readied a new cigarette.

"If we could just get rid of Jacket altogether, and give him the ****ig electric chair, or whatever the ***t injection you people use today, I don't give a ***t how he dies! I just want him to leave me alone- AAAAGH!!!"

The doctors told us Walter suffered hallucinations. They said he would hallucinate this: Jacket would barge into the room. In his eyes, he said he saw Jacket with blood all over his coat, and was wearing his tiger mask, holding brass knuckles stained with blood, looking to beat Walter senseless, Sven and I however, saw nothing,

"Walter, just calm down..."

"YOU LEAD HIM RIGHT TO ME!!!"

"Please calm down Walter, nobody's at the door.. No one is going to hurt you..."

"But HE is! I've gotta go...this is all your damn fault!"

No sooner did Walter run for the door, been chased by his
hallucination, and was backed into the corner of his apartment. He
refused to calm down until we left the room, and just like that, his
interview was over.

"I cannot fathom what must go through Jacket's mind. He must be-
completely damaged. Perhaps something happened during the San Fran
Armistice that-"

"What is it Zakhaev?"

"Oh no." *whack!* "AAAAAaaaauugh!!!!"

Suddenly, a man in an octopus mask raised a baseball bat up to Zakhaev's head, and smashed it from the left, for some reason, the stranger decided to spare us from the attack, and told us to leave as he promptly bashes Zakhaev's head in and out, leaving a bloody stain on the floor. We were horrified and left the building as soon as we could, and noticed a strange symbol on the floor, it was a red circle with three lines going across it. Things weren't looking too good, as it wasn't hard to tell that the camera's battery was gong to die on us. We were lucky enough to get footage of the witnesses, and hear their opinions of the killings. Just then, a man in a chameleon mask stood on the sidewalk, holding the neon sunglasses Walter usually wore while composing at the clubs, except it was stained with blood, giving us the impression that the chameleon masked man had murdered him, and there were clues that his head was bashed on, as the chameleon man pulls out scattered bloodied teeth from his pockets. He just- kept staring at us, and pulls out a bat with bloodstains on it, and was looking to charge us-

The tape on the camera ends there. Although we weren't filming, we managed to escape the chameleon masked stranger.