Jacob Cruz's Questionnaire

I live in Vancouver because it's close to my workplace and many more interesting events tend to occur in this city over someplace like White Rock or Surrey. My home is a condo on the 7th floor of some skyscraper that's name evades me. I like to keep my home neat and tidy, with very little out of place. Books grouped on my shelf based on genre and alphabetized, first by author and then by title. I have a small office space where I do my... personal research. Nothing out of my purview, of course; simply trying to maintain a list of... corruption. Wrongful convictions, murderers that escaped justice, judges that failed to fulfill their duties, that kind of thing. What I plan to do with this information is, unfortunately, nothing so far. All I can do is document. For now.

I get money from my work as a forensics scientist, mostly. Nothing too fancy, mostly things like blood and DNA sample analyses. Sometimes, I dabble in crime scene investigation when we're shorthanded or I develop a personal interest in the case. Plus, it helps me develop perspective while I'm doing my lab work. Unfortunately, I've been coerced on more than a few occasions to... misinterpret the data. It's all office politics that are beyond me most of the time, which disgusts me. As for what I spend the money on, I mostly live a modest lifestyle. Anything extra goes towards my parents, who I owe a great deal to. However, I do spend my money on new books, particularly Urban Fantasy & Philosophy novels.

I want justice. Too many times I've had to watch as innocents were thrown in prison for crimes they didn't commit, all because the evidence was almost too conveniently pointing towards them, with some slight but key contradictions; all it took was a few pulled strings for those to 'vanish.' I wish for power to first punish those that are truly guilty for these crimes, then to punish those that are in any way implicated in the wrongful convictions. I don't care about who or what gets in the way of my dream. Those who support the injustices that plague this city deserve neither my mercy nor remorse. I am ashamed by my actions, but this is the only way that I can pay my penance.

When the witch hunts began, people had little idea of what to look for and turned to superstition and paranoia. They wanted to know what went bump in the night, and I had to give them an answer. Oftentimes, I had little choice; with pressure from my superiors and the public at large, I had to... make the facts fit. Bullet casings that matched the ammunition of the culprit's gun materialized when cases hit a dead end and the like were all too common. But when I was forced into practically framing an innocent bystander, something in me just snapped. I have a penance to pay for the things I've done, so I gathered information and bided my time for an opportunity.

A colleague of mine, Adam McCornick, was in my graduating class. We were alright friends, I think, but we've grown a bit distant after he found out about the blackmailing. It's a shame, really. He used to tell me about our duty to the people at large, keeping them safe from the monsters of the world. Probably thinks I'm bad luck. Here's hoping that's the case; damned fool might be trying to help me out by trying to figure out how to expose the Centre on his own. I hope he's not keeping his distance to protect me.

My mom, Patricia, is a social worker. Works with foster kids; makes sure the parents are treating them right, guides the kids on the right path, things like that. She was damn good at her job and treated those kids like they were her own. She's got a smile that could warm the coldest of souls. Her adobo is to die for; every week when I come over to visit, she always makes sure to prep a healthy portion for me. God, if she knew what I'd done, it'd break her heart. I'm sorry, mom.

My dad, Marco, is a construction worker. Stoic man, but he's my rock. He inspired me to push myself and make use of my gift for the sciences. Right before I moved out to get closer to my workplace, his parting gift was a copper amulet with a carabao engraved into it. As he handed it to me, he told me, "Anak, all men make mistakes that hurt others, even those that don't deserve it. Good men want to help those who are hurt. It takes power to become a great man that can truly help. So study hard, anak, so that you can become a great man."

I messed up, dad. It's too late for me, but I can rectify those mistakes.

My childhood was filled with love, thanks to my parents. We never had a lot, but I was grateful and tried to help in any way I could. Budgeting, applying for tax credits, working odd jobs like tutoring classmates, and trying to get scholarships were the least I could do for them. I got accepted into UBC for Biochemistry with a partial scholarship, but I still needed to take out some student loans to pay the rest of it off.

I've had a couple of "friends" that were more like leeches, trying to use me. I realized what they were doing, so I just cut them off. Tends to be easier when they find out that you don't have enough free time to guide them through the lab reports and problem sets. Only one that genuinely respected me as a person was Adam.

We met each other at a lab internship, and for the first time I felt like I could just... be myself. He listened to my ramblings about different research papers I read, working theories on mysterious sightings of mythical creatures, and true crime podcasts I liked. It was fun. He especially enjoyed the true crime stuff, specifically how the culprit was caught. I guess he found it fascinating that even the smallest traces can be linked back to them.

Come to think of it, he's the reason why I went into forensics in the first place; I wanted to be a researcher, but he told me that we could do some good for our community by enforcing justice, in our own way. God, I hope he doesn't blame himself for what happened to me. It wasn't his fault, how could he have expected me to do something as foolish as take a bribe?

...Who am I kidding, he thinks I'm scum of the earth. I'm the embodiment of what he stands against. Nice going, Jacob. Way to lose the one real friend you'd ever have.

I've never been in love. I've been on a few dates, but it never really went anywhere. The closest thing that I've had to a relationship was with this one guy early in my career, before... sigh. Neil, I think his name was. He was sweet and his eyes gleamed at even the most mundane bit of news I shared, as if I were regaling him with my exploits and adventures.

One time, while we were going for a stroll in the park, we came upon a lost beagle. Without hesitation, he cooed at it and went over to nuzzle the pup. I tried to stop him at first, since it might've been rabid, but I caught a glimpse of the collar on its neck and could only sigh in tepid relief. Seated on the grass, Neil laughed and had a wide grin plastered on his face as the dog sat in his lap. Something about his freckles just made his smiles radiate warmth, somehow. It was almost infectious.

The owner came by shortly after, and we returned their dog, much to Neil's dismay. I told him that what he did was very responsible, and for the greater good, and that the owner is probably incredibly relieved that he found his dog with Neil. That last comment seemed to reach him, at least.

After the bribe, I had to cut things off. Neil wouldn't be safe around me. Besides, he deserves better.

While we were eating lunch at a cafe, I told him that I didn't think it'd work out, that I was just incredibly busy with work, and that we should see other people. He... didn't take it well. I don't think he bought my explanation, either. I could see his eyes begin to water, so I just paid for the meal and walked out. At the time,I was telling myself that the quicker I ripped off the bandaid, the less danger that Neil'd be in. Truth was that I couldn't bear to stay any longer.

Neil, I hope you found someone who treats you well. I hope they love you more than I could have.

Snakes have always made me feel uneasy. Something about how they writhe around just strikes me as disturbing. That, their venom, and what they're usually associated with is what makes them scary to me.

Clowns are creepy as hell. Always smiling, always happy, always trying to make you laugh... shudder. Be honest, at least; the unending smiles are uncanny and leave me feeling disconcerted.

I'm afraid of failing to provide for my parents and live up to their expectations. I owe them so much and they've worked so hard to help provide for me, so I'd be damned if I can't do the same for them, if not more.

Another fear of mine is being unable to atone for what I've done. I couldn't care less about what happens to me so long as I can change things for the better beforehand.

My greatest fear, what really haunts my nightmares, is endangering the people closest to me. I am a walking omen, and the path I tread is a long, arduous, and treacherous. No one deserves to have to put up with me and the things that seek to harm me, so it's better if I just keep my distance. They might not understand, but it's the only way to keep them safe. That's good enough for me.

The copper amulet that my father gifted me is one of my most prized possessions. The carabao etched into it symbolizes strength, perseverance, and diligence: all the things that I require on this path I tread. My father made me promise to become a great man with the power to help others, and this amulet is a reminder of that oath.

Sometimes, I feel as if the amulet weighs me down. Somehow, it feels almost meditative and grounding, if that makes any sense. I guess it's like my burden made manifest, a sort of focus that helps me direct my mind to what's real. Nearly numbs the pain at times.

Some of my other prized possessions are my notebooks and files on the cover-ups. They represent my mission, my path to atonement. Without them, I couldn't exact justice on the VPD. Without them, I'd be unable to appeal the wrongful convictions. Without them, I'd be lost and most likely succumb to despair.

God... the coverups and blackmail were only a small part of the problems I'm currently facing. I tried to reach out, but it ended up getting an innocent woman hurt. It also revealed the true scope of the enemy I face.

They've got manpower, enough to post frequent watches on me at nearly all times. I keep looking around, but can't seem to single any of them out. I get the feeling that they're around me though.

Finances they have in spades, enough to put 4 or so analysts on their payroll and most likely other aspects of law enforcement, maybe even in the judiciary system as well.

Their sphere of influence is immense; frankly, they could be operating throughout the entire lower mainland.

However, there's something human about their approach, some flaws that I can exploit. Otherwise, they wouldn't have to depend on strong-arm tactics and threats of violence to keep me chained. I'm a valuable asset, one that they need on a tight leash. Supposedly, my work must somehow outweigh the potential risks I've taken so far. That leads me to think that I still have some leeway in how I direct my associates and conduct my actions.

My mornings start bright and early at 06:00. I have a short routine of brushing teeth, making my bed, eating breakfast, and then going out for a short walk/jog. Usually finish within an hour

At about 07:00, I spend some time reading. Right now, I'm going through some books by Cioran. I feel like he just understands me. A kindred soul, even.

At around 07:30, I prepare for work ahead of time. If I want any chance of collecting sensitive documents, I need to finish early. Documenting procedures I'll have to take and understanding what information I'm trying to look for help paint a bigger picture of the crime scene that I investigate or the evidence that I analyse. Plus, it provides opportunities to understand they're methods of doctoring cases and communicating those to the public (once I... eventually get the chance to).

At 08:45, I finalize any work and take a deep breath whilst clutching my necklace. It doesn't put my mind at ease, but it helps to keep it focused on the daunting challenges that await me.

I don't really try to keep up appearances. I usually dress in the same way regardless of the occasion.

I mean, I try to dress well in general, so I feel that that's more than enough.

No one's inviting me to any parties or birthdays, anyways.

I guess if I did have to prepare, I'd try to clean up a little: shave, take an extra long shower, and practice my smile in the mirror a bit.

I mean, I would also rehearse the answers to common questions in my head just to ensure I don't fumble when talking to anyone. That's normal, right?

Oh, I'd make sure I had a nice gift or something else to give to the host. They were really thoughtful and invited me, so I think it'd be the least I could do to show my appreciation.

I'd take no longer than a few hours to prepare, but that's including searching for an appropriate gift. Without that, no longer than 30 minutes.

...My birthday's next month, actually.

I mean, it's just like any other day, really. I usually just take the day off from work and visit my parents. My mom preps a lot of delicious food and my dad always bugs me about "being his drinking buddy." I already told him I'm perfectly fine with staying sober.

They always invite relatives over to their house, but I can tell that they're not really enthused to come. Haha, I've been told on more than one occasion by my brutally honest younger cousins that I am "extremely depressing to be around." My Tita Leah shushed them, but I told her it was fine.

For this one though, I think I'm going to take my parents out for a nice dinner. Just the three of us, like the simpler days.

I could use a few of those.