Everett Graves (Erik)

Agent RH137. Codename: Switcher

Description:

Case File: 18419

Supervising Physician: Doctor Amanda Pierce
Subject: Agent RH137
Shadow Alias: Everett Graves
Code Name: Switcher
Real Name: Unknown

Session Date: 2014-01-25

The following is a written transcript taken from the recording attached to this file.
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DAP: “Agent Graves, it’s good to see you. Please go ahead and take a seat and we’ll get started. Now, what I’d like to do here is get a sense of you. Please tell me about yourself.

EG: “That’s a very long story Doctor, and it’s unlikely to be important or in any way interesting.”

DAP: “A long story? Mr. Grave-“

EG: “Please call me Switcher.”

long pause

DAP: “Very well, Switcher, as I was saying your story can’t be that long. You cannot be a man over 25.”

EG: “Not a man over 25? What if I was to tell you that I’m more than 500 years old.

DAP: “I’d find that quite difficult to believe Switcher.

A dark chuckle covered the track, followed by a gasp. For those listening to the transcript please note that the notated speaker is not a transcription error, though the voices may not match.

EG: “What if I were to tell you that I’m not actually a man?”

DAP: “I… umm, please Agent Graves. This isn’t a joke.”

Another wicked chuckle and a sharp exhalation of breath

EG: As you say Doctor. I will recount a few things, briefly. I’m not interested in providing graphic details, and to be quite blunt with you I’m not sure that I can. With as many experiences and as many years as I have under my belt, details become a bit foggy, I will give you a few specifics however. First, when I say that I’m over 500 years old, it’s important that you understand that I’m neither lying nor exaggerating. You may credit any gaps in my memory to that fact. Now, where to begin?

DAP: Might I suggest the beginning?

EG: You are droll doctor. The thing about that statement is that “the beginning,” as you put it, is subjective. We will start with me earliest memory. At least that I can reliably call a memory. I remember white clouds. Well, at the time we thought they were clouds. I stood upon a cliff with someone, a brother I think? No… not a brother, maybe a cousin? It’s unimportant in the long run, and so as I was saying we watched as these clouds as they moved ponderously across the waves. They were atop great beasts of glistening wood. I, of course, know now that they were ships, however at the time we didn’t know what to make of them. Shortly after the “clouds met the earth,” men stepped out of them, men who shined in the sun and carried sticks that made thunder. At least that’s what our wise men would declare. I, again, know better now, but at the time these were men whom we thought were gods. “

DAP: “I assume from what you’re describing you either say the English or perhaps the Spaniards?”

EG: “The latter in fact. Yes, Cortez and his conquistadoros. I’m sure you remember the tale from school so I won’t bore you with what happened. Instead I will fast forward, to the end of the war. Tenochtitlan was burning and my people were dying by the score. We were surrounded, and to be quite frank with you doctor, all hope was lost. Women and children were huddled in their homes praying and crying. The streets were deserted, save for the warriors who stood in a vain effort to stem the tide of Cortez. It was this desperation that led me to accept the High Priest’s proposal. I followed him through forgotten halls of the palace, and down so many steps that my back ached when we reached the bottom. At the base of those stairs was a massive door, hewn from some sort of red metal. It wasn’t iron… it’s something I’ve never seen since. Here I found others, gathered for the same purpose. The priest told us that all was likely lost, but that we had a chance to turn the tides of fate around. He told us the cost would be great, and that there were no guarantees. It was quite possible that we would fail. We would not be forced to do this, he told us. He offered us the choice. Those who accepted would be allowed to pass through the door to our fate. Several shook their heads and left, in fact most did. However I and a handful of others remained. What lay beyond the golden door defies description, so suffice it to say that I stood with several of my fellow warriors in a secret audience chamber beneath the throne room of Montezuma. The walls around us appeared to be carved directly out of the skeleton of some monstrous creature. I stood around a circle, hand in hand with my fellow warriors and I participated in a forbidden ritual. A ritual that our gods had declared was only to be used in the direst of circumstances. I saw things that I will not describe here, for they will serve no purpose to your record and are among a list of things I hold most sacred. As the ritual drew to a close I drank the fetid gray liquid that the High Priest poured from a clay jar. The taste was vile, viler than anything else I had ever or have since imbibed. Then as that viscous liquid slid down my throat, I fell into a crushing black oblivion.

DAP: “Were you asleep?”

The subject shook his head here, however that is clearly not able to be translated to the audio recording.

EG: “No Doctor, I don’t believe I was. I was conscious, and received what one may call… instruction.”

DAP: “Instruction? Who was instructing you? The High Priest?”

Another shake of his head was here, again the audio will not pick that up

EG: The Gods.

DAP: “The Gods? Tell me about them.”

EG: No Doctor. That is something I cannot do.

DAP: “Cannot? Or will not?”

EG: “For the purposes of this interview, they are one and the same. There are some pieces of my history that I will not share, and that is simply the way it is. Now, as I was saying I received instruction in my new… gifts. We would later come to discover that each of us had been gifted differently. There were seven of us, each with different gifts, or powers as the Hive calls them.

DAP: There were seven of you?

EG: “Yes, there were. Before you ask, I don’t know how many are left alive on this day. I may well be the only one. I do not know if the gods saw fit to remove age from all of us. To be honest, I don’t know the specifics of all the gifts of each of my brothers entailed. Some I know, for I witnessed them used. I witnessed a man who could change in to any animal, and a man who seemed to course with lightning and could hurl it from his hands as a child would hurl a ball. There were others, but at this time their abilities are lost to my memory. What I do know, is that when Tenochtitlan burned… when we… failed… that three of us were dead. We went our separate ways at that point, and I know not what became of them. What I do know, is what I did. My abilities were unique amongst my brethren. I could adopt the faces of our enemies. So it was that when the white devils returned to their homes that I followed. A maid in Cortez’ household came down with a virulent and almost always fatal illness. I took over her life, and there I waited, for years actually. I waited until the moment was right, and then… I poisoned him. The poison was one that I had brought with me from Tenochtitlan, and it was not recognized as more than an illness, dysentery actually. Then with the poison coursing through his veins I stood at his side to care for him. Day after day I watched as that bastard suffered, and eventually died.

DAP: “Did you feel at that point that you had redeemed yourself, for what you deem as your failure?”

A long pause appears on the audio here. Agent Graves would not meet my gaze during this time

EG: “Redeemed? I will never be redeemed Doctor. That is part of what was required for the ritual, the great sacrifice that I mentioned.. On that fateful night, while the fires burned within the braziers and the High Priest chanted… I gave up my soul. I gave up my righteousness and my conscience. I ceased to be human and became what my people refer to as a Skin-walker. I became what you see now, I became Shifter. Violence and infiltration are my gods given purpose.

DAP: What have you done for that last 500 years then Agen—, err Switcher.

The grin that the subject gave me will also not translate. That said I was not surprised when I could hear an audible gasp and a drastic change in my breathing. In my years as a physician and psychologist for the FBI and now for the Hive I had never seen anything like that grin. To say my blood ran cold would be an exaggeration, but not much of one.

EG: That story, doctor, is for another time.

The recording will include various sounds here. They are of Agent Graves standing, and moving towards the door.

EG: Don’t look so disappointed Doctor. There are more stories to tell, and I will tell you. You just have to be patient. I look forward to the next time we speak Doctor. Goodnight.

The sound here is that of my door being closed. Listening back I realize that I released my breath sharply as this dangerous and frighteningly charming man was no longer in my presence.

DAP: As do I, Agent Graves. As do I.


Session concluded at 19:23 hours

Bio:

Everett Graves (Erik)

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