Krieg:

It feels odd to call you that. I don't know your real name. I only knew you as subject #617.

I'm not sure I even understand why I'm writing this message. Maybe it will give you closure, knowing that the people who turned you into what you are now were held responsible, though I don't even know that you'll be able to read this. The truth is, I don't think I understand anything anymore.

I could tell you I was acting on orders. I could tell you I was coerced. I could tell you it was your life or my wife's. I could tell you if it wasn't me, it would have been somebody else, somebody who took pleasure in it. Somebody like Schmidt. Or Medford. Or Clements. But you wouldn't find any of those explanations adequate. I will not mince words, and I will not excuse myself for the crimes I have committed. But the truth is, your escape was no accident.

I orchestrated it all. Your unlocked cell door, the unattended surgical equipment, the delay in the changing of the guard. They were only gone for two minutes, but I knew that was more than enough time for you. Seventeen prisoners escaped that day. Hyperion only recaptured two. It went better than I feared... but worse than I had hoped.

Jack was furious. He had no proof, I made sure of that. But that didn't stop him. He knew I was responsible. He tracked down my wife. Made me watch as he subjected her to the same torture we put you and the others through. When I... euthanized her... she had a moment of lucidity, brief enough to tell me she loved me, and to thank me for putting an end to her misery. The suffering that I was responsible for. I compromised my integrity in the belief that obeying his orders would keep her safe. I tried to get her to safety, I tried to protect her from him, and myself and the inhuman things that I did. She had nothing to do with it. I still wonder why she was the one who had to pay for it. But like I said: I just don't understand it anymore.

My poor Lisette... Her face haunts my dreams. Her accusing eyes, piercing into me... she didn't deserve to die like that. Nobody did. Maybe it was karmic punishment for all the suffering and death I caused. Jack extinguished the only light left in my life that day. I thank you for taking your revenge on him. News of his death didn't bring me any peace, but I hope that delivering the finishing blow brought you some.

Clements swore revenge on you for what happened the day you escaped. One of the guards you killed that day was his brother. I'm sure you know who I'm talking about. Those of us who survived were all moved to an underground facility, where Hyperion could keep a more watchful eye on us, prisoners and doctors alike. The whole time we were there, finding you was all Clements ever talked about.

Most of the researchers died when you escaped, either by your hand or from the other escapees attacking them. Only a few of us survived that day. Ever since Jack died, I've been tracking down the others. Hyperion still has stockpiles of eridium, and a full staff of researchers eager to continue on our work. I couldn't let them take any more lives like that. I initiated omega protocols on the underground lab. I'm sure there were innocent lives lost in the process, but they won't be conducting any more experiments there. As for the test subjects who perished... after what Clements did to them, death must have come as a relief.

Clements wasn't there when the lab was destroyed. It took me weeks to track him down, but when I caught wind that you would be in the tropics, I knew that's where he was headed. I couldn't let him. If he killed you, then Lisette's death meant nothing. I couldn't let that happen. He had heard of the deaths of the others, I'm sure, but being so close to catching you, I thought he might get careless. I was right. He was so obsessed with you that he never saw me coming. He seemed... surprised to see me.

I am not writing this letter expecting forgiveness. Killing Clements didn't change anything. I only write this letter to give you closure, and to tell you that I am sorry.

Now, with Clements gone, there's only one left. But she knows what has to happen. She knows who she is.

She's the one who has to pay for it.

Sincerely,
Dr. Heather Samuels