I’m still alive. Maybe everyone else doesn’t care, but I really am still alive. My name is Oleg Razor. I’m a jaczhen. I have three eyes and six hands; I can fly and spit acid. My claws cut steel and concrete, and my hide can withstand a machine-gun burst.
Yes. I’m a jaczhen. I’m very kind, and I can do a lot of things. Especially great at feeling absolutely awful. You could say I’m a record-holder. If not once during the whole day I didn’t feel awful… though I haven’t had days like that in a long time.
Lately, I’ve had especially many problems. Schizophrenia, Pazuzu, a big setup, diplomatic complications, imprisonment, an empty stomach, an army of monsters, an exploding helicopter, Pazuzu… although I already mentioned Pazuzu. That’s why I feel awful. And honestly, who wouldn’t in my place? And don’t stare at me like that. Not in a curiosity cabinet.