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Description
He first worked as a state inspector in Zenith, before moving to Paradise for unknown reasons where he joined a company called Census Task Force, which coordinates several private police departments. Census is almost a political party at this point. Samuel Jenkannah works for them in and out.

Wanna know why I’m so chilly ? he asks, and why it’s so hard to get up in the morning to go to work ? and why I have a fear of micro-waves? Big Man did something horrible to me. They call this monster « mister Charity ». His catch phrase is « when is Christmas ? WHEN IS CHRISTMAS, ASSHOLE ? » you would say : « D-December 25th ? » « Wrong. It’s today. Run before it’s not Christmas anymore. »

Census Task Force is famous for policing the police, that is, « compromising » with the police to improve its efficiency.

Undeniably, they’re successful at that. But it may be because of their more extreme underground practices. And when they don’t need a snitch anymore, it’s not Christmas anymore.

Big Man has a weird Pantheistic obsession with life. He couldn’t kill anything. They say he was a hippie when he was young and weed completely smoked his brain. But no, he’s all too lucid. Before Samuel even knew he was a snitch, he was a nuisance ; and when he started understanding he had become a nuisance, he was kidnapped and taken to the Pound. The Pound with a capital P for « punishment ».

He underwent electrical shocks ; again and again ; they « trained him down » as they put it. Big Man came in person and took Samuel’s muzzled maw in his hand, Samuel’s neck muscles retracted in rage ; he gave him a weird, almost tender smile as his victim tried vainly to bite, a grotesque expression of fear on his face, letting out inarticulate, pretty barbaric growling sounds. « There boy, there beautiful… aren’t you a happier miserable creature now ? »

Then they « released the hounds ». Not all of these were dogs. Some were humans. Others were reptiles, rodents… etc. They released them out in a disenfranchised industrial area. They had caught the draft of running on all four pretty quickly. But food was their first priority. Who knows what they did. As usual the actual pound was called after a series of incidents and they caught and killed some of the wild animals responsible for it. Some employees would come back home tonight with pretty disturbing descriptions of what they had caught, and be told to keep quiet about it because « that’s how urban legends spread and it causes civil unrest ».

But Samuel didn’t get caught. Once he had eaten he fell asleep behind a generator, cold, in pain, in fear from the horrible noises of the sirens in the distance, but too exhausted to keep his eyes open, in a place safe from the pound. Not safe from the « community », but the « community » was hiding.

The « community » remembered the sirens. Each time they heard them, they kept hidden no matter how hungry they were. The Pound used the sirens to keep the « community » confined in that disenfranchised industrial area, these sirens were ultrasounds ; they caused stress in the neighborhood but as long as nobody would know, nobody would complain. People here had other reasons to be unhappy. They could blame it on many other things, and that was a useful cause-tank for local officials to keep getting elected year after year. But I digress.

After the hunger, came the lust. He wanted to fuck something. He wouldn’t remember what he did afterward, at all. He just remembered he had never felt so horny. Mad bastard « Big Man » had injected him and the others with aphrodisiacs. Because of his obsession with life.

He then roamed the lower areas of the city ; as he was slowly recovering from the treatments, he frequented more civilized parts of it. His first clear memory was hearing some lounge singer in a pub as he was sleeping behind a dumpster in the back alley, and crying because he knew that song.

Possibly did that cause a snap in his brain and he came back to his senses. That’s the problem with Big Man’s obsession of not killing anyone. But it’s not really that much of a problem. Most of those who wouldn’t get shot/euthanized by the pound would remain feral for the rest of their life, which would as a result be considerably shortened.

Moreover, Big Man quickly got back to him. Samuel had found his whole life ready to ship away/erase, so to speak, but still here. In particular, he found an e-mail informing him that his contract with Census Task Force could be reconducted. The weird thing is, he didn’t know who Big Man was anymore. By the time he had realized what had happened, he was trapped in Big Man’s weird charm again. Again, so to speak. He felt terrorized and sick just thinking of « mister Charity », as a Pavlovian reflex, but it’s like Census Task Force was his whole life and he was trapped in it.

He’s followed by a psy for long-term consequences of a work accident. He just couldn’t know whether the psy had any link to Census Task Force or not. Thinking she was would be like a clear indicator that he wasn’t cured yet. It was important for him to mentally separate his life from the company he worked with. So it was important to trust his psy to not be a part of it. She would help him find a hobby or something. What did he like ? walking ? hunting ? (needless to say it’s a trap, she definately works for Census Task Force)

And there he is, wearing suits regardless of the season and never showing up to his office because he « has a private life ». Sure he has a « private life ». Sure he likes to wear suits even in Summer, but it’s all because of trauma.

Description
He first worked as a state inspector in Zenith, before moving to Paradise for unknown reasons where he joined a company called Census Task Force, which coordinates several private police departments. Census is almost a political party at this point. Samuel Jenkannah works for them in and out.

Wanna know why I’m so chilly ? he asks, and why it’s so hard to get up in the morning to go to work ? and why I have a fear of micro-waves? Big Man did something horrible to me. They call this monster « mister Charity ». His catch phrase is « when is Christmas ? WHEN IS CHRISTMAS, ASSHOLE ? » you would say : « D-December 25th ? » « Wrong. It’s today. Run before it’s not Christmas anymore. »

Census Task Force is famous for policing the police, that is, « compromising » with the police to improve its efficiency.

Undeniably, they’re successful at that. But it may be because of their more extreme underground practices. And when they don’t need a snitch anymore, it’s not Christmas anymore.

Big Man has a weird Pantheistic obsession with life. He couldn’t kill anything. They say he was a hippie when he was young and weed completely smoked his brain. But no, he’s all too lucid. Before Samuel even knew he was a snitch, he was a nuisance ; and when he started understanding he had become a nuisance, he was kidnapped and taken to the Pound. The Pound with a capital P for « punishment ».

He underwent electrical shocks ; again and again ; they « trained him down » as they put it. Big Man came in person and took Samuel’s muzzled maw in his hand, Samuel’s neck muscles retracted in rage ; he gave him a weird, almost tender smile as his victim tried vainly to bite, a grotesque expression of fear on his face, letting out inarticulate, pretty barbaric growling sounds. « There boy, there beautiful… aren’t you a happier miserable creature now ? »

Then they « released the hounds ». Not all of these were dogs. Some were humans. Others were reptiles, rodents… etc. They released them out in a disenfranchised industrial area. They had caught the draft of running on all four pretty quickly. But food was their first priority. Who knows what they did. As usual the actual pound was called after a series of incidents and they caught and killed some of the wild animals responsible for it. Some employees would come back home tonight with pretty disturbing descriptions of what they had caught, and be told to keep quiet about it because « that’s how urban legends spread and it causes civil unrest ».

But Samuel didn’t get caught. Once he had eaten he fell asleep behind a generator, cold, in pain, in fear from the horrible noises of the sirens in the distance, but too exhausted to keep his eyes open, in a place safe from the pound. Not safe from the « community », but the « community » was hiding.

The « community » remembered the sirens. Each time they heard them, they kept hidden no matter how hungry they were. The Pound used the sirens to keep the « community » confined in that disenfranchised industrial area, these sirens were ultrasounds ; they caused stress in the neighborhood but as long as nobody would know, nobody would complain. People here had other reasons to be unhappy. They could blame it on many other things, and that was a useful cause-tank for local officials to keep getting elected year after year. But I digress.

After the hunger, came the lust. He wanted to fuck something. He wouldn’t remember what he did afterward, at all. He just remembered he had never felt so horny. Mad bastard « Big Man » had injected him and the others with aphrodisiacs. Because of his obsession with life.

He then roamed the lower areas of the city ; as he was slowly recovering from the treatments, he frequented more civilized parts of it. His first clear memory was hearing some lounge singer in a pub as he was sleeping behind a dumpster in the back alley, and crying because he knew that song.

Possibly did that cause a snap in his brain and he came back to his senses. That’s the problem with Big Man’s obsession of not killing anyone. But it’s not really that much of a problem. Most of those who wouldn’t get shot/euthanized by the pound would remain feral for the rest of their life, which would as a result be considerably shortened.

Moreover, Big Man quickly got back to him. Samuel had found his whole life ready to ship away/erase, so to speak, but still here. In particular, he found an e-mail informing him that his contract with Census Task Force could be reconducted. The weird thing is, he didn’t know who Big Man was anymore. By the time he had realized what had happened, he was trapped in Big Man’s weird charm again. Again, so to speak. He felt terrorized and sick just thinking of « mister Charity », as a Pavlovian reflex, but it’s like Census Task Force was his whole life and he was trapped in it.

He’s followed by a psy for long-term consequences of a work accident. He just couldn’t know whether the psy had any link to Census Task Force or not. Thinking she was would be like a clear indicator that he wasn’t cured yet. It was important for him to mentally separate his life from the company he worked with. So it was important to trust his psy to not be a part of it. She would help him find a hobby or something. What did he like ? walking ? hunting ? (needless to say it’s a trap, she definately works for Census Task Force)

And there he is, wearing suits regardless of the season and never showing up to his office because he « has a private life ». Sure he has a « private life ». Sure he likes to wear suits even in Summer, but it’s all because of trauma.