Solomonari:Fables/Tales/Hunger, Rage, And The Sins That Were Lost
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//: [Hunger, Rage, And The Sins That Were Lost] | “Sparky” Deep Dive
SparkySlime1311 | 2/8/2026
INTERVIEW LOG ██/██/████
CONTEXT: MTF Agent, “Gordon S.”, had managed through diplomatic interactions an interview with one of the supposed “Priests” of the Kiraak that we have observed as recently forming in the city of Tokyo Japan.
The following is a recorded dialogue between Agent Gordon and “Sparky”.
ADDENDUM I: It goes without saying that to communicate with “Sparky” was a difficult endeavor, for they were not exactly the most vocal. So to circumvent that, most of the responses on part of “Sparky” were primarily transcribed through written material.
ADDENDUM II: Following the appended dialogue with “Sparky”, it was found that Agent “Gordon S.” displayed notable altered behavior a-typical of memetic-affected individuals. We are looking into connected persons in regards to who authorized the Agent’s dialogue with “Sparky”.
So, here you are. “Sparky”. Singular name, singular individual. But if I am allowed to ask, who were you before? We are interested in not just understanding the Kiraak itself, but those who are a part of it. According to what we’ve managed to scrounge up, you seem to have an affiliation with… the “Woods Cult”?
I did, once. Under the Thin Man.
His name was “Dad”, to me.
The only one that was “Dad” to me.
He was…difficult, caring yet impossibly stoic.
As all fathers are supposed to be, I’ve heard.
He wounded me when I did so wrong,
He blinded me with his presence, that damnable static when I-
He blinded me when I said so wrong,
He bound me with those tentacles, reflecting off the starless night-
He bound me when I acted so wrong,
His name was ███████, “Dad”.
He was an angel. A radiant black.
Ironic, considering his faceless white.
Yet, despite all I dream, all I remember – scattershot of my life under “Dad”.
…I cannot under fair scrutiny say it was not my own fault.
For disappearing that day, for devolving into senseless worship, “Dad”.
Curious, interesting indeed. From everything we have gathered regarding survivors of the “Woods Cult” that had displayed prior behaviors associated with the static sickness, did not exactly appear to regain–retain memories. How come you still hold on to them? Despite how painful they may seem? Most that chose to remain in that forest tend to lose themself, as the legend goes.
…I vaguely remember, yes. The darker spaces. Where I was held, “Dad” kept me.
I was there with others. I remember, that too, others… so many others.
Indeed, “others”, what are commonly referred to as the proxies–much like yourself. Potentially all a hoax, yet, you are here before us, reality. Yet…that is not all there is to it, we presume correct? You no longer exist under ███████, yeah?
Well. Yes… you would be correct.
Under, “Dad”, there was not much to remember.
Yet, under █████ under the Grand ███,
I had a far more…important…purpose.
The Grand ███?
My new not, “Dad”, but, something similar.
More of a figure than more of a person.
“Dad” was not a person, but he was more of a person then anyone else.
The Grand ███, the one in charge. The one we follow…
The one I disobeyed during my early days under █████.
Ah! An annoying incident truly, yeah, the Yakuza. The hired Japanese men during that time when you likely then bought upon for your understood capabilities for their hopeful containment of you. It is a shame, of course, that such potential has been reduced to-
No.
Not reduced.
Never reduced.
…I am sorry, maybe if I retell what I remember in a manner that your uhm,
Call me Gordon. Refer to us as soldiers, technically what we’re on duty for, this interview with a Kiraak’s creation was just-
No.
Incorrect.
Impossibly wrong.
Not created, RE-MADE in under █████.
Let me tell you a story that may instead irrevocably change your perspective.
Before, “Dad”, before the violence. Before my RE-MAKING.
“It was so endlessly long ago, despite being yet a few decades from now if everything I have examined is correct. A few lost memories there, a few stolen moments in time, memoriam ‘Sparky’. What I am now, lasting forevermore.”
“On that cold night. It was winter I am certain, all I can recollect is frigid grief. Grief for what? I no longer care to understand–for that was my past, a disgusting creature I most likely was, as base homonid, homo-sapien. As most loathing in their sins typically are. Distancing themselves from the self. A maligned thing–for whatever it is worth. All that I now understand is the Forest, where I lay to waste for days. Longer than a human is supposed to live, yes? Well…that was what I presumed aroused my survival. Confusion. Odd confusion, pain, erroneous drought of life that necessitated a need to persist.
It was then that, He, found me. Those that others refer to as ‘Jeffrey’.
Yet I knew him instead, ‘Uncle’.”
Oh! Sorry to well, interrupt your little story there but do you truly speak of The, “Jeff the Killer”? Guess all them were truly existent at that point in time…
…The Killer. “Uncle” was not the only “Killer” in those woods, in that forest. Yet, “Uncle” was the angriest.
…You wish to know of the others, yet, I have barely accurate recollections of whatever information you may be after regarding the…”proxies”. A distasteful referential term.
Albeit, we lacked a term for ourselves. It is-WAS unnecessary.
…To continue, with the prior tale.
“‘Uncle’, he was the one to introduce me to the others,
Under the Thin Man.
The one I refer to, ‘Dad’, the one you speak of as Slender Man.
As above, so below, drifting through those woods.
The occasional soul lost in the leaves, we gutted and tore through, much like a lost stag.
Blood, leaves, darkness, the night, it all blurred through time.
Until that One Day.
‘Dad’, when he no longer was.
When ‘Dad’, he was un-made before my very eyes.
Destabilized to nothing before my very soul.
Reduced to shrills that hurt my very ears.
Burning my eyes and blinding in supple light.
…All I remember, then, is darkness.
Darkness that consumed me for years.
…consumed us all.”
Fascinating. …So, there you were, presumably around this time during your relocation to Japan? Here, in the city proper? When you then lost it all with your prior proxies, then, it seems others found use in you.
Yes. The Yakuza. Those lost violent souls.
A kinship I felt that led to my beholden to their will.
A shame, then, that I was made use of in an incursion against the Garden I would later…join.
“The Garden”? The name beholden to the Kiraak, if we’re understanding this correctly?
Incorrect.
Kiraaks are…Kiraaks. Homely devices, fleshscapes, used for us to commune and spread the belief of █████.
The Garden instead denotes my sect I belong to.
I am entirely for, as “Gardener”.
The “Cascading Garden”.
My forever home, my existence.
Interesting, interesting. Well! We have but one lasting question before we will release you, “Sparky”. If that is all okay with you, of course?
Ask.
On the night of ██/██/████, after your stint with the Yakuza in the ruin of your…battle, to put it lightly, we are curious to know. What did you say or ask of that young lady who was the sole survivor of [DATA EXPUNGED].
…
Leave.
You are no longer welcome in this space.
If you so wish to incite violence upon these grounds then ███ ███ ████ ███████ [REDACTED].
ADDENDUM III: MTF Agent “Gordon S.” subsequently would be ████████. The transcriptions, thankfully in the ensuing scuffle that transpired, survived. Given by the vocal recollection by MTF Agent “Reedbeck J.”, it seems that “Sparky” had returned to displays of passive behavior after ███████████ Agent “Gordon S.”, and proceeded to vanish through means we currently lack understanding of.
ADDENDUM IV: While we had faced little hostile resistance in our attempts at friendly dialogue, it is noted that following what occurred with Agent “Gordon S.”, any attempts to approach the mentioned Kiraak in the Aokigahara Forest church have been met with fierce resistance. It appears that whatever was omitted regarding “Gordon S.” had incited…something among “Sparky”, that likely spread through the other “Gardeners” of the sect. It is because of this, that we were forced to retreat. That is all.