We have received Intel of a mysterious, black-bound book located due northeast of the island! The submarine has been sent to retrieve it!
Commander, this book seems to be the autobiography of the adversary, Lieutenant Hammerman! We give it to you to peruse its contents!
A Black Past
By Lieutenant James A. Hammerman
~A Grim Upbringing~
Being born of wealthy parents, I was much accustomed to the ways of the rich. My house was grand, I went lots of places, and I rarely ever saw an empty dinner table. Being also born of ravishing and selfish parents, I was ever so indifferent to the sly actions my mother and father exhibited on a daily basis. I was born in Cologne, Germany, and was thus very much used to the onslaught of crime that ensued daily. My father didn't much put down his newspaper, but when he did, and I was left alone in the room with it, I would always read it. It told terrible tales of murders in the night, robberies, and gruesome depictions of the worst torture you could imagine. I went on with my day bearing images of dead bodies and mangled, tangled corpses lying in the empty desks next to me at school. My childhood was not pleasant. I had no room for imagination in that run-down, worried little mind of mine.
My mother didn't much love me. She saw me as an obstacle, almost a parasite, that prevented her from living the life she wanted to live. As a youth she was always told stories of grand adventures that only those of age could embark on. All through her life she dreamed of that day when she would finally break free from her childhood and break through the clouds of adulthood. She found her spouse, married him, and injected her ideas into his fantastically complex mind (he studied medicine). But he would not have it. His parents were strict, and wanted him to continue the Hammerman name for another generation. You see, he wouldn't hear of her fanciful dreams and youthful ambitions. His goal was set, his mind fixed on a point in the future when he would make his parents proud. He planned on having at least one son which would be a vessel for the family name. He did not have to try long, for his first and only child was me, a healthy, beautiful boy.
My life was not as perfect as it was made out to be, however. My parents ruined it all for me. Instead of loving each other in complimentary harmony, they despised each other in loathsome desire. Instead of loving me as the child of their dreams, they forgot me and left me to myself. Instead of settling down in a respectable area, they built their house in the cheapest place they could find, so as appease to their stingy ways. And so, left to myself I was, they ruined my chances of having a healthy childhood and an enjoyable future.
It would be unwise and an insult to its memory to casually acknowledge the fact that the day of my secondary school graduation was a day to remember. The preparations were set and the day was planned out, step by step, to the very end. That day I was to wake up, go to the groomer's to get a fresh haircut, have a splendid meal at the finest restaurant in the city, then arrive at the graduation run-through in the most expensive tuxedo money could lay its corrupt hands on. After the graduation ceremony was over and all graduates were allowed to leave, I was to sneak past every inquiring face and board the metro, which would take me to the coastal city of Norden. There I would board the S.S. Adler, which would take me to the International American Institute for Boys, or IAIB.
You see, this was the one time in my life my parents showed open hostility towards me. It was no secret to my highly trained mind that they were shipping me off so as to totally remove me from their lives. My mother had looked to this blessed day with a yearning heart, patiently awaiting her turn for glory. She had plans to divorce my father and find a less unwavering man, and wanted me out of the way, so as to avoid piles of paperwork regarding my custody. My father agreed to the plan. Having endured his wife's seemingly endless desire for an adventurous life for almost 22 years, he was more than ready to find a more suitable wife and start anew.
Both of my parents knew what would become of me if I boarded that ship, and they were ready for the outcome. Either I would die at sea as a forgotten soul, or become very successful in America and brighten the Hammerman name forever. I, on the other hand, knew exactly what I was to do as soon as I set foot in America. I would change my name, sever all ties I had to the Hammermans, and start a knew life, vowing to forget my childhood forever. The moment I stepped onto the S.S. Adler I was filled with a new spark of life, a feeling of hope for the future and of a new motive.
~A Dreadful Turn of Events~
The first few weeks of my two month journey were, as expected, dreadful, due to the fact that I had lived most of my life on the ground or in the air. The churning waves were foreign to myself and thus my body rejected the motions of the sea. I thinned drastically, losing much of the mass I had accumulated throughout my comfortable life. I seemed, to myself, to be unrecognizable within the first ten days of my voyage.
I did not expect my ship to lose its navigating abilities on the twelfth day, nor did I expect to find the captain dead in his cabin when I went to speak some sense into him. Both were strangely welcome, however, as I was accustomed to such tragedies early in my youth. The cause of his death remained uncertain, but there were rumors of a tribe that lived in a passing archipelago, and that the chief assassinated the captain. And sure enough, the following day we were ambushed by a group of tribal warriors whose staffs shone bright like sapphire. They spoke in a native tongue, but their words did not sound friendly. They took all our food and plunged their mystic staffs deep into our ship, causing it to sink rapidly. They killed everyone but me, for I was the only one with enough sense left to hide. I fled to the supply room, which contained knives and guns. I took the nearest pistol and scavenged for ammunitions, but everything was wet. I was left with some very dull-looking knives. I took the sharpest and proceeded up the staircase, but a towering figure blocked my ascent. I fell backwards and dropped the knife, which slid a few feet away from me. As I attempted to crawl for it the man (who I ascertained to be the chief) shouted in his native tongue some words that caused my hair to stand on end. I lay still on the damp floor almost against my will. It was as though he was controlling me, willing me to be still for my own death. However, I fought against his power, and achieved reunion with my knife, which I threw at the chief. Almost instantly I regretted that decision. He banged his staff against the floor, and some unseen but powerful force turned the knife in midair, changing its course back to me. I ducked as quickly as I could, but my thin composure had caused my reflexes to slow. The knife cut me right under my eye, causing me to double back in pain. The chief held no mercy in his heart. He picked me up with those strangely powerful arms and dragged me out of the supply room. Why he did not kill me is still unknown to me to this day.
It was as though I was back in Cologne, where criminals ran untamed. It was an absolute crime scene, with bloody, mauled bodies lying everywhere. I closed my eyes, desperate not to be reminded of my past, but it was soon over. The chief took me off the sinking ship, down onto a beautiful island. It was like nothing I had seen before. The palm trees glistened in the sunlight, the water sparkled like the warriors' staffs, the sky shone an even more brilliant blue. I was half deceived into believing that I was taken to paradise. But the cruel state I was in was quickly shaken into me by the chief, who proceeded to throw me on the ground, shouting angry words to his fellows. I started at the sand, thinking of what horrible things were to happen to me. I had to get out of there, no matter the costs. I was on my way to making a new life for myself, but these ruthless savages denied me that, their motives unknown to me. The chief dragged me back up again, showing me to the crowd. They all shouted at me, and I had a feeling that my doom was certain. I was led into the heart of the island, where a village shown in a clearing of dense trees.
~My Days in Captivity~
The cell that the tribal people crafted for me was very dark. I had little visual stimuli, aside from the occasional sliver of light that brought me food daily, to excite my senses. I grew, if possible, even thinner, having a diet consisting of fish and coconut. I would have much liked this exotic diet had I not been a prisoner, but my current state did not allow any room for comfort. They took all my clothes and gave me traditional tribal clothing, which consisted of a kilt-like piece of clothing and some shackle-like gold bracelets.
I had no idea why------
The rest of the pages were missing...
We have sent out a search party of submarines to retrieve the lost pages.