Dr. Arthur “Donk” Swanson PhD (Edison, Eddie, Heartbreaker)

 Membership: The Tribe

Race: Human

Height: 5’5

Weight: 150

Apparent Age: 70

Archetype: Decker

Preferred Weapon: DAOD Assault Pistol

Runner Song:

Bio: Pleased to meet you my name is Edison and I would like to clarify a few things, first and foremost I am not responsible and nor are any of my fellow Tribe members for the  death of any reporter on this site nor for reporting on any of my fellow Tribe Members; Now that we got that out of the way the reason I hijacked this page was that I was alerted by a dear friend of mine that goes by the name Dump Shock that I was about to make the rogues gallery known as the Shadow Wiki and for that I was actually amazed that it took those busybody shadow beat reporters this long to dig up any information on me and actually be able to prepare anything of actual value for the reader. So after I got of the phone with Dump Shock I let my fingers do the walking and began to read the swill that was being spilled about my friends of the Tribe on this page and I can honestly say that I was horrified about the inaccuracies of the reporting and the truly bias nature of the UCAS Times in how they handled this project. Than I remembered I actually dislike reading biographies for that just reason, it is always one sided and always from the point of view of the author and this case a supposed journalist; that noble profession has really taken a hit in the last century and for that I have decided to make a preemptive strike and prepare a proper Autobiography of the decker known as Edison “hay that’s me! LOL” well since this is my first real attempt to be an author you are going to have forgive me as I have lived a very exciting life; also I want to give a shout out to my dear friend and professional rival Cheerio Tesla you old Blighty dog you, hope your not drinking and decking and say hello to Phoenix for me and the rest of your Reject chaps…..wait I am as well a Blighty again Cheerio Tesla and to the Cannon family Pip Pip Tallyho…….wait for it oh I can almost hear Waldorf and Statler saying in unison Cheerio well maybe I have gotten into the wine a bit early this morning…..well I am British and we have red wine for blood ;)- and with no further distractions here we go, the Man, the Myth and the Legend known as Edison brings you the story of guess what Edison again thats me.

Well my readers I was born in London England and no I wont tell you when, we must have some secrets between us now, my upbringing was kinda normal well for a man of mystery like me it was normal but for most it could be said that I had a pretty decent life living in London hunting foxes and drinking wine making a many dead soldier even at a young age I had wine for blood and had liver damage….no seriously no liver damage but we English love our wine and tea; how do you think we keep up that “Stiff Upper Lip and always look angry, well we just drink till we are numb and stay that way till we die….when we run out of wine watch out cause we don’t like to actually discuss anything we just yell at each other in our funny accents and complain about you Yankee Doodles across the pond ha ha ha….Yankee Doodle put a feather in his cap and called it macaroni only in America, well you did butcher our language and all those spelling errors you spell colour without a U how middle class LOL just kidding I do love you Yankee Doodles and your Merican way of speaking and dress better than any comedy on the trideo and I work with a man named Cowboy and yes I gave that name to him, look at that Chap seriously twin pearl handled revolvers, boots and hat he looks like he should be in a spaghetti western not within the urban sprawl of Seattle all he needs is a horse and sad sad song…..wait he does LOL I did it again sorry I digress and Cowboy you know I love you old chap and I just yanking your chain……Home, Home on the Range……

Well back to me, yes I am talking about Edison and let me get serious like an American reporter for a minute, have you seen them on the trideo looks like they have a pole up their buts and more starch on their shirts than a casting of British period drama, you know that the starched front is for formal evening wear not your regular day wear….again distractions I have lived in America for to long now I guess ha ha ha just joshing you, bloody hell you could’t pay me enough to go back to my home country again not with the Hand and Steel Legion running the show over there and not to mention the Pirate King as our Top Monarch and yes England is a Monarchy again and I guess we should have taken a clue from you Americans on that one to watch out for with our Parliament hooting and hollering at each other it was no wonder no one saw the writing on the walls and gave the Pirate of Penzance the power to grab control of the throne; well I guess we owe him that much seeing we hanged his ilk allot and I mean allot, we British used to love our hangings it became something of a national past time like football and cricket; cant forget about croquet and rugby, so much so that we even created our own version of the execution and kept track of how fast our hangman could get the deed done. The record originally held by Albert Pierrepoint until Hang’em High Harrison brook the record almost a century later….see there it is again the word record yes we kept track and created a race to the gallows for our executioners to all one up each other and become the fastest. Well in reality it wasn’t hard for Pierrepoint’s record to stick for so long since we banned executions back in the 1960’s and didn’t reopen the conveyor belt again in 2040, though the axe and rope where used illegally often during the war of the nobles but officially the gallows reopened in 2040 and it was a race to see who would be the Worlds Best and set a new record sad really that a persons life was not taken seriously and it was nothing more than a game of one up men’s ship and now its far worse and for that I wont step foot back in England….wait where was I going with this tangent….Oh ya my life sorry for the rant, had to get that off my chest I know this sounds like the ramblings of a madman and look I am an author again ha ha ha….madman well some have said that about me at times well manly Tesla but seriously have you seen his work and they call me mad again just joshing you old chap.

Okay focus Edison it is time to write about me, yes me and not a history lesson; your not in the lecture hall in Oxford; well I guess having a handful of doctoral degrees has eroded my common sense and wait I just insulted myself…..its not the pedigree’s that did it it was the years spent teaching that damaged my brain dome and being a professor didn’t help and I don’t mean the Professor of the Brothers Grimm no offence old man Tutor you know I love you as well, only you could pull of that white suit and could you please send some Cadbury Eggs and Chanukah Gelt please and don’t forget to spin that dreidel my good man for me. Well I guess you figured I was an educator across the pond and taught computer courses to kids that couldn’t tell the difference from a main frame to hard frame and on switch from their brain dome and this got allot of worse once the matrix was introduced and then the data jack….oh it created so many lazy students that tried to make a fool out of me by hacking old papers written by you guessed it Me and Tesla and than submit it as there own work. This also stood true when I began working at an Upper School as a Headmaster and had to wear that dumb robe over my suit,,,,oh I looked like a dumpy old geezer, I really hated that job. Perks not really just more snot nosed kids and bad attitudes, though at least there it was encouraged to give the brats a few swats from the school cane when they acted out and so every one feared me and called me Swat’em Swanson I just chuckled it was better then Humpty Dumpty, if you cant laugh at yourself once in a while you will go insane and become as serious as a Yankee or worse your Congress have you ever tried to watch that, better than any sleep aid drug or the devils plant for putting you out. no wonder you Yanks get nothing done politically….Wait thats me again…I guess the Congressman are half dead inside from sheer boredom I know I was. Okay back to me again yes I am talking about Edison…..where was I again oh ya my tenure at the Upper School where I was Swat’em Swanson and see I don’t know if it’s like this in America but in England I had to not only run the joint, swat some brats, patrol the halls in the dumpty robe and act as both bobby and magistrate; I had to as well be a pedagogue and run my own classes during the day on top of everything else I had to do, I swear it was that job that turned my hair grey and wrinkled my skin and well started me smoking my pipe and in that damned robe I looked even more like a fossil. So I can understand why the kids thought I didn’t understand modern technology even though I have a degree in technology, computer and mechanical engineering and yes the most dull of all arithmetic….not sure how I made it through those courses even for a man of science like me, I slept my way through those courses; I had intentions of becoming an accountant but I didn’t want to step on Marvin Yates toes and scuff those spit polished oxfords. just joshing you Tosh.

I taught the robotic engineering program at the Upper School and that was a really bad idea, yes I said bad idea…..I basically shot myself in the foot with that choice, you ask why well if you don’t know you will never understand and I will leave that between us fellow robotics teachers and coaches ya some of you are laughing and spitting up your tea or for you Americans your coffee cause you know what I mean. Isn’t this better than some boring tell all by a jaded reporter that would get all the information wrong and report false info and focus on me being called Swat’em Swanson and call me all sorts of bad names, just and FYI….the parents did sign the permission form before the cane came out and it was always pants up not down, that was left for the parents not in the school the Headmasters school cane was bad enough through trousers I could only imagine what it could do to bare flesh and we were only allowed to give a maximum of twelve of our very best and that was saved for the worst offences or repeat offenders. I can see all you older British gents holding your bottoms like I am as I write this seeing we have all been in that place during our school boy days and weren’t those uniforms the worst, my sons hate there uniforms and they are nothing compared to the ones in England I tell them that all the time and they don’t believe me and even when I show them the pictures of me, they just call me an old fogey and that I wouldn’t understand what it’s like to be a kid and how wearing a tie everyday is just for us old timers and not for the youth, well they are entitled to there opinions and take a gander on this site. Many of the top criminals in the world all wear a suit and tie why you ask…..good question you are very bright, but I guess if you have to ask not so smartly dressed. The reason is to blend into the city and become a ghost among the people, to fit in and not draw attention to ones self unlike my old chap Cowboy and the young lad Ecto One that stand out like a sore thumb. See that song above, ya that stupid thing we have to deal with that on a daily basis even when we turn the lights out put on our night shirts and sleeping cap and hit the sheets the damn thing will play, I no longer here it but in the beginning it would drive me mad.

Those songs are the reason we need to blend with our attire, ya I speaking to you Crab, Jeeves, Falconer and Hitch the Edwardian era is over so let the stiff collars and frock coats go….oh wait I did it again I insulted myself good old Humpty Dumpty here. I started running the shadows here in England as a decker because I needed the money, private schools are expensive and having five children and a wife to keep happy I needed the extra money cause the old catch phrase ‘Happy Wife, Happy Life.” does stand true and I was always buying her flowers and sleeping on the chesterfield suite allot, I made the mistake of marrying a fiery red haired Irish Catholic and I am Protestant so I knew what I was getting myself into just glad the chesterfield was comfortable. Ya I needed money because the husband is always in the wrong and when we actually here our wives say those words “I was wrong.” it is better than Christmas morning, bloody hell it is better than sex and don’t deny it all you married men out there, you can feel old Edison’s pain I was in the dog house so many times I had the florist on speed dial and there is a permanent indent of my body on the chesterfield and when flowers failed it was quick trip to the jewellery store. I am a good husband and father, but like most men I get buried in my work and forget things like birthdays, Valentines Day and the most serious of offences the “Wedding Anniversary!” yes single men this is a capital offence and you will be in the dog house for days and have to beg for mercy….the married men are all laughing I can just hear the chuckles and the single men are like “Really Mate??” yes or as the youth say “No Dreaking Way Chummer! My girl is awesome.” just wait till you put that ring on her finger and everything changes, well Edison did it again cause I know Mother will be reading this and I will be once again on the chesterfield well I will just call the florist now and get my bedding ready cause it’s going to be a long night ha ha ha.

Okay back to the serious stuff, let my straiten and pull my tie snug here, time for good old Humpty to get down to business; I had to start doing shadow operations to help support my family, cause a Headmasters salary and part time professors salary was not enough to raise five children, a wife, a dog and a nice home in London and the vacation home in Bathe that Mother just had to have and not to mention my boat and yes I wear that silly captains hat when I take her out. A man needs his hobbies and of course I would choose boating and golf, so typical I know another old humpty white man on the water and golf course, I must one of those elite and how dare I complain about my privilege. Well you have five children cause your wife doesn’t believe in birth control a big Bloody Thank You to Catholic Church for that one, a hectic work life and basically working to keep some money in the bank, put food on the table, a roof over their heads and close on their backs and did I mention private school and finishing school for my three daughters, any man would need to just get away from the house from time to time and decompress on the green or water with our fishing pools and some ale.

Also having Irish In-Laws is a blasted nightmare, if you think your In-Laws are bad try having ones that still hold a grudge to us Brits and don’t like the fact that there angel married a Protestant. Oh how the holiday dinners were rough and I would hide in my den sipping brandy and smoking a Churchill Cigar just to stay sane as they yelled and slandered me in the other room. So running the shadows was actually an escape from the madness of my normal life and wait did I say doing very lethal work was a holiday compared to going home yes I did. I had investments and some products that I invented but they weren’t paying dividends yet and my published work was so dry and boring that I feel asleep writing it and well it didn’t sell all that well. As I said I am not a real author just Swat’em Swanson the Humpty Dumpty Decker of London and now of America….Guess that makes me a Yankee Doodle now LOL.

So I tried to be serious, but its not in me; my family broke me along time ago and well I am just a water of the Swanson’s back kinda guy. Being to serious will turn you into the gibbering fool and needing a frontal lobotomy. I took to the shadows like a duck to water and the best part most of the time I didn’t have to leave my office or home and could use my custom computer and eventual cyber deck that I designed and Tesla stole the blueprints of and cheeped out on the parts and made millions selling it, again a bloody thank you Tesla. See I am to nice Edison is not a killer I will defend my own life but I won’t kill if I can help it, in the Matrix I would use stun programs and dump shock systems to turn another’s computer into a fresh batch of chips, but kill oh heavens no thats so middle class…..wait thats me again. Well I am a killer in the kitchen with my shepherds pie recipe and the batter for my fish and chips, not to mention my barbecue….yes, yes I can here it now what does an English man know about barbecue, I can read can’t I and when I moved to America I first lived in Shreveport Louisiana and learned a thing or two from my American neighbours so yes Edison can barbecue though he can’t seem to spell it, thank heavens for spell check I am really loosing my touch maybe I need to go back to England….Ya nope not till the Hand is ousted.

I would do more or less simple jobs and spend most of my time creating new programs and competing with my fellow Brit Tesla for patent rights, seeing that I had a strict no kill policy on my jobs unlike Tesla that would burn’em and turn’em I wasn’t as sought after for my expertise and also many thought a Upper School Headmaster couldn’t be all that skilled as a decker, to that they where wrong but being a white hat it made me less desirable seeing I have a conscience and refuse to put it on the shelf for anyone. I am a good Christian that has done some misdeeds and sinned but hell have’t we all, I have remorse and I atone for my sins, tithe to the church and support charities so my karmic footprint is balanced and my soul is clean besides the cyber and bio that I have, the drawbacks to running the shadows is keeping your edge and since it’s a young mans game and I am not a young man anymore I need all the edge I can get, cause humpty does’t runaway all that well anymore. I broke my knee and ankle shattering my hip in the process when I feel down the stairs tripping on one of lads toy cars the perils of Fatherhood I know. But it made me glad I am a nerd and not a solider, cause I can deck from my chesterfield where the mercenary has to get in the thick of it; nope not for me, i didn’t like having to be asleep when I plugged in so I fixed that, call me paranoid but I like to know when the bad guy is knocking on my door and not in a bloody coma waiting for the release of sweet death…..yes we married men do say that allot especially after 50+ years of marriage okay I might be dating myself a bit here but seriously take a look at old humpty dumpty here I am not a spry young duck anymore, I am not telling you anything you didn’t already know by just looking at my picture and yes thats me good old Edison and yes I still work a day job got to pay the bills somehow.

Well the million dollar question, hey Edison why did you leave England and come to Yankee Doodle Land….well that is easy the war of the nobles and the destruction of Parliament and the House of Lords….See I am a member of the House of Lords or at least I was till the war. I am a blood right Earl and this awarded Swat’em Swanson some privileges but being part of the Conservative party with liberal views didn’t help my status and as well being a white hat and wanting nothing to do with killing my fellow countryman over stupidity; I was left with only a few choices, bow down and submit, nope not going to happen, join the war and kill in the name of Swanson again not going to happen, or sell my house pack my stuff and family up and move across the pond yup that happened. I dropped my title from my name along time ago, though occasionally I here someone say My Lord and I turn out of instinct and then my back says you idiot remember you fell down two flights of stairs and I end up reaching for my medicine to ease the pain. Moving to Yankee Doddle Land was already a new experience but try moving to Dixie Land and the Land of the French…..Bloody Frenchman, now they are the true cowards and are the reason us Europeans get a bad rap with most of the world, you can’t not keep starting wars, begging for help and than pulling out when the allies come to aid you. This does’t leave a good taste in our mouths about you kinda like how you feed us those damned snails and stinky cheese….wait could that be why they smell so bad and if I wanted to eat a slimy snail I would but wait I don’t and I won’t I would rather have Kibble and watered down soy milk has to taste better. As you can tell I really don’t like the French, but I am English and thats okay for me and well it’s okay for anyone seeing they are just as snooty as the elves and wait have you ever meet a French Elf? No, well I have and it’s like talking to someone that thinks there poop doesn’t stink and trust me it does….probably all them snails and stinky cheese and the attitude most trolls have towards everyone else and about the same intellect oh and throw in some of the Gandhi Cow Worshippers in the pot and stir can you smell it I can and its worse than you think; and seeing I am short there nose is so upturned that I am looking up right into the void that was there brain dome. and trust me it’s empty up there probably some more snails slithering around up there though….Oh I can hear you now Oh Edison stop dissing the French, they are nice people and they brought as art, fine dinning and culture….well the only good thing to come out of France is the wine again I am English I can say that you Yankee Doodles cant trust me they hate us Brits just as much, well when you are full of British Grit any Frenchy would get a little steamed kinda like there snails and stinky hygiene.

But I forgot just what it was like to deal with them and in America they have even more of an upturned nose, please do me a favour go back to France or Quebec and leave us alone…..okay rant over bad memories thats all, remember I was an Earl and a member of the House of Lords so I had to deal with them a few times a month and yet another reason I went fishing and yes an Earl can be middle class I can almost see the posts to this page now in the comment section No Edison you are rich and thus not middle class, well no I am not rich never was and wasn’t born with a silver spoon up my but I had to bust my bloody arse to get where I am today and well lets say I have a flat in not the best section of the city and still have to work at my advanced age as well I still have to run the shadows just to eat something other than kibble and synthetic soy milk that has been watered down. And no I wont sell my vintage golf clubs and thats my boat not yours a man does need his recreation now and than so Ahoy Matey come on board and I will tell you a tale, a tale of a fateful ship…..Okay now back to reality or sort of reality living in the south was kinda like living in England no I am kidding besides the accents it is to damned warm and humid down there for this old humpty and you should have seen what it did to my hair I looked like a crazed grey haired clown and had to keep hairspray and a brush in my attache when I would go to work or I would end up looking like Crazy Ed I bet he will soon make this site if not I will make sure he does so you understand what I mean.

 CRAZY ED see what I mean and i have more hair on my head

When I moved to Shreveport I did once again land a job in my chosen field and I instantly regretted it, I thought British Upper Schools were bad, I never saw anything as dysfunctional till I started working in a Yankee Doodle Dixie Cotton Picking school. The kids where all brats and Swat’em Swanson was only allowed to use a slipper not a cane or paddle, the faculty were worse than the kids and I didn’t think that was possible; remember I am used to a bit of structure in the education system not the anarchy pit that is the American school system and I even thought about running for office to try to fix it, than I remembered the Civil War and Revolution and didn’t want to paint a huge red bulls eye on my head for trying to be a good politician wait did I use those two words together Good and Politician okay I am sorry about that. Also I was adjusting to my new setting and trying to set up all new contacts so I could resume working as a decker in the shadows; that would make a great musical number, maybe I will begin writing that after this ha ha ya no thats not going to happen but it would be a good number “A Decker in the Shadows.” you heard it here first people and if anyone does steal this I will know and I want my royalties a man has to eat now. So after some time of balancing work, family and setting up contacts I would return to running the shadows and now I was free of Tesla stealing my work and claiming it was his and undercutting me at every turn. Irony actually seeing the Real Edison stole from Tesla and got rich off his work and Tesla died a poor man, this time it’s the Decker Tesla stealing from the decker Edison and getting rich as I struggle to breath. Though I was able to become somewhat successful in the Confederate south, though most of my work would end up being for the Sons of the True Confederacy and this displeased me but cred is cred and I needed to support my family and becoming a Grandfather would only heighten my need seeing that my princess ended up pregnant out of wedlock and good old Humpty is not going to intimidate any good old boy into a shotgun wedding.

As well my oldest son was getting married and my children where all getting to age where either they were in college, going to go to college or getting married and guess what humpty dumpty here was having to pay for it all. I would do it all again if I could, but at the time it was like squeezing to stones together to get blood to pay for all this, also mother was having medical issues that needed tending to so life was not so good for Edison when I lived in the south and not to mention the dry cleaning bill and power bill do to the heat; I already had my work wardrobe and wasn’t re buying it all over again. So I had to take the jobs that came my way and continue working on my top secret project, this was fine and I was able to figure everything out so I didn’t go belly up in the bank and loose my home but running the shadows in America was a whole lot different than Europe, here in Yankee Doodle Dandy Land you runners thrive on being overexposed and its all about the glory and the fame that comes with it, in Europe its more reserved and the shadows is were we live going on unknown and only our jackets being what the employers know not how many neon colours that are in our hair and how many tattoos you have or how big your gun is. I guess you can call it culture shock but I tried my best to stay to my roots but eventually the American curse would hit me and I would become known as the great Edison and guess what would happen I would be stalked by you guessed it Tesla once again trying to steal my work, this time he would get a taste of his own medicine and Edison’s Medicine would be unleashed as he would get stung by my false file drives and burn himself in the process figuratively not literally and my medicine would stay with him till today. Tesla old chap you know that I mean you no ill will my good man, and that business is business in our world, I am glad that I can call Tesla a friend but I still don’t trust his British arse; I know you feel the same way Tesla.

But the other issue was that when I would go to work, the people learned that I was Edison and I either would get hounded by fanboys or the Star and it was making it impossible to stay in the public eye and I would have to either go full time runner or move once again. So initially I would try the full time gig, I quit my day job loaded up with gear and weapons to protect my home and family and dove head first into the shadows as my full time job and I have to say the pay increase was wonderful and the jobs kept coming and it allowed me to work on my side projects and spend more time with my wife and less on the chesterfield and I was able to spoil mother with gifts and really spoil my grandchildren and becoming their favourite Donk and seeing their smiling faces would lite up the room and would bring me joy in what I was doing. All was well for many years and eventually as the years passed the kids would grow older and move away, the grandchildren would grown up and go to college that I would gladly pay for and get married again Old Donk would pay and it was my honour to do so. I was now a great grandfather and I was still the beloved Donk and my world was complete, Tesla was off my back and we had mended fences, we had moved from Shreveport to Richmond to be closer to my family that where seeming to congregate in the south’s capital for work. I bought a small house outside the city and mother and I would try to live a simple life, I decided that it was time to pull back my shadow work and once again reenter teaching and I found a job at an Upper School in Richmond again as the Headmaster and Robotics/Drone coach for  the kids. I couldn’t be happier than I was when I lived in Richmond, I was very proud of all my children and everything they had accomplished and Old Donk was a proud Great Grandfather and everything was going swimmingly……..famous last words really okay time to break out the tissues people cause Old Donk is about to get a little emotional, I can feel the pain myself memories burned into my brain with a laser so I can never forget.

As I said my children were all gainfully employed, married and had families of there own at this point I was back to work in the Richmond school system and would eventually become regional Superintendent for all of Richmond and running a robotics/drones workshop for the students. I was dabbling on my projects and had once again returned to the shadows but mostly part time and not taking high profile jobs and the name Edison carried serious weight within the Matrix and gave me the opportunity to hand pick my jobs and I was basically deaf to my stupid song playing and everything was going smooth. That was till one faithful day on Christmas Eve 2065 when my entire family had all gathered for the holiday season, I am now a Great Grand Father of triplets and we all pilled into our vehicles and headed to Christmas Eve Family Service at the Richmond Presbyterian Church an old cathedral that still stood from the days of the Revolution and with a crisp bight in the air I felt like I was back in England as we all entered the Church all dressed in our Sunday’s best for the holidays, by this point I had taken to wearing bow ties especially to church and was quite active as I was an usher and one of the Elder Sessions. As we entered the chapel was lite up with all the sparkling lights of the season the Advent Wreath glowing with all the candles burning and the smell of pine and cider in the air as many Christmas trees adorned the sanctuary all lite up and presents under the tree. I was beaming with pride as I held my newest great grand baby fresh from taking the newest family photo in front of the church’s nativity scene and wonderfully decorated tree’s. The photo sat on my phone and I couldn’t be prouder as we took our seats in the pews up front, the choir sang songs of the season as the church quickly became standing room only with spill over rooms for the latecomers everyone dressed in there best and all singing along with the choir with peace and joy in there hearts. All waiting with baited breath for the candlelight service to begin, this was my favourite time of the year with my large family all around me Old Donk was beaming as I just sat back and took it all in, the only sin I had committed on that day was to carry my sidearm with me under my jacket but this is the Confederate south and that was not abnormal even for Christmas I knew I wasn’t the only one packing an iron under my suit jacket and sadly I would be glad that I did.

Eventually the organ would begin humming the prepositional and we would all rise in unison, I was still holding my great grandson in my arms and mother and my granddaughter were holding the other two babies. Mothers health was fading but she couldn’t be happier as she leaned into me and I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her in close leaned down and kissed he on the forehead and prepared for a wonderful service. Eventually the night would come to a close as we all held candles the lights where dimmed and the entire church congregation and choir would begin singing my favourite old holiday song Silent Night. Our voices calling out the heavens and harmonising like angels singing to Heaven above to celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ, my heart warm and I couldn’t be happier than I was at that moment; everything I had worked my entire life for was all here with me and my life was complete and fulfilled. Though the serenity of that night would be forever shaken as true horror would unfold before my eyes, the UCAS (United Canadian American States) would choose this moment to make an example of the people of Richmond and the Confederacy for continuing to elect President Edward Davis even though he was living in exile, they would choose this night of nights to punish us for forgoing the Treaty of Denver and choosing to live free of the tyranny of that document. They would stain Christmas for me forever in a blink of an eye my favourite time of the year would become my worst nightmare come true and forever stain my hands with blood and not just blood but the blood of a child and for this old educator,parent and great grand parent my heart would bleed for what I was forced to do on the birthday of our saviour and what I was about to loose.

As the song would come to a close and the candles would be blown out the doors of the church would burst open and armed soldiers all wearing the flag of the UCAS would begin to open fire as they flooded the church. In all my years in the shadows I have never been involved in an armed encounter and never with my family there, and all that was about to change in a split second as I heard the guns erupting violently I would feel like I was punched in the back and get knocked to the ground. Pandemonium would ensue as gunfire would erupt from all around and people would begin trampling each other to escape to safety, many on that night would not be so lucky and many innocent souls would be sent to heaven in the house of God. I could hear people screaming, crying and praying all around me I would hear horrific sounds that I would later learn to be the rattle of death and blood would stain the church forever. On the ground and in pain I realised I had been hit by a stray bullet as my white dress shirt was turning red and I was coughing up blood. My great grandson would never see his first birthday as the bullet that tore through me as well tore through him, tears filled my eyes and for the first time an Englishman showed raw emotion I knew I had to contain myself to try to get my family to safety but in chaos they all scattered we are not military and I am just a decker and teacher I know how to use a gun but I never had to use one for real before and do to that I almost forgot how to use my pistol; but something strange happened as I was starting to get to my feet I suddenly was full of raw strength as an adrenaline rush entered my body, I rose to my feet and drew my pistol many of the other parishioners had also drawn there personal protection weapons and began to return fire. War had broken out on Christmas Eve inside a over packed church, people where jumping from the balcony and through the stained glass windows in attempt to escape the horror. As I drew my pistol a smaller framed solider came around the pew and began to open fire hitting me multiple times in my leg and torso I spun out of control and back to the floor I went, I thought it was it for me and I was going to die here on this night of nights. The solider that just tried to kill me would kick me in the ribs and try to roll me over thinking I was dead, little did he know that I was just in shock and had been stunned by the attack. as he rolled me over I guess to steal my pistol and wallet I would pull the trigger for the first time in my life at another human being, the gun blasted of three rounds very quickly with a single pull of the trigger and all three rounds would find there home within his neck blowing his head clean off and showering me in blood. The force of the impact would also tear off the mask he was wearing and I would see in horror that it was just a child maybe no more than 13 and I had just killed him, I know it was a kill or be killed situation but I was not used to or prepared for that. I always told myself that if I ever had to actually defend myself then I would just do it and thats why I had a smartlink system installed but you can never be prepared for your first kill to be that of a child, my hands now had blood on them and the pain from the injury would be the last thing I remember from that night before waking up in the hospital unsure of where and what was going on.

I would come to learn from the news as I laid in that bed in shock of what had occurred that all the UCAS gunman had been either killed or captured and that the situation was being hailed as a international incident seeing that they invaded and murdered civilians on Christmas Eve within a house of worship. I would as well learn from the Chaplin that my worst fear had been realised as I was asking about my family and mother, and the doctors would not tell me anything until I saw the Chaplin coming my way with his collar in place and Bible in hand, tears began to roll down my checks as I knew the news wasn’t going to be good and they never send a Chaplin if it’s good news. Father David would tell me that my family was among the countless senseless casualties of that night. His words tore into my worse than any of the bullets that ripped through my body during the massacre. I began to cry uncontrollable and than everything froze over in a blink of an eye and anger replaced the sorrow and through my sore throat all I could muster was a whisper but I vowed vengeance, but Father David would just insist that I get some rest and pray before I did anything stupid. His words would fall on deaf ears that day as something inside me woke up in 2065 and I felt torn, I felt empty and hollow, I was now alone at my advanced age and had just lost my son and the moon. Old Donk was torn apart inside and the demons would begin to creep inside my mind, all i had left to remind me of my family was that last photograph we took when we were all happy and the memories of the massacre and news of there demise.

Days had passed and I was discharged from the hospital and left with a very heavy burden to pay, seeing that the assault was considered a shadow operation no insurance company would pay a dime to any of the victims and the burden of having to pay a hefty hospital bill and as well funeral costs would become overwhelming, My In Laws would help out with what they could, but they were not all that wealthy and I was comfortable but not a rich man. My retirement money and the money from the account in England connected to my title and the short sale of my families manor and land back to to the Crown would be needed to cover all the costs, but still it would leave me homeless and after the funerals I would have to move once more. I couldn’t stay in Richmond anymore and after selling my home and packing up a truck, I would leave the Confederate south forever, and make my way west. Tesla would reach out to me to give his condolences and would finally give me some of my do from the work he stole all those years ago, it would be enough for me to get situated in Seattle but not enough for me to retire. So I made my way to King County Washington with a burning anger inside me and a lost sense of purpose in this world. Well as I made my way to Seattle I would cross paths with another fugitive of the war and a broken man that was walking along side the highway. Something about that man got me to pull over and offer him a ride and I am glad I listened to my gut and picked up the straggler, cause if I hadn’t I would lost out on one of the closest friends I ever had. This was how I met Cowboy and for a short while we just sat in silence as the truck rumbled up the highway but it was Cowboy that broke the silence as he ignited a cigarette and offered me one I gratefully accepted and as I took my first drag all he said “So old timer what’s your story?” and with that I told him my life story and he just looked at me and said “Well Old Donk, seems we have allot in common than, don’t let it eat you up and looks like God put us here specifically to cross paths.” after a while we switched off driving and Cowboy just talked to me and let me grieve to him.

Eventually the words of Father David would sink in and would begin to pray and as I bowed my head in silent prayer, I realised I was  Christian and to live a Christian life meat I had to turn the other cheek and not sink to there level or they win and the devil has my soul. My demons are quite real and yes I suffer every day since and still today and if it wasn’t for Cowboy I probably would be dead from my campaign of revenge against the UCAS.