Chucklez
Smash Cadet
- Joined
- Mar 23, 2010
- Messages
- 44
Prologue
Death. What a foul smell it has. It's been filling my nostrils like a poisonous gas since I got here; whenever that was.... Three days maybe? A week? I can't remember anymore. Why did I ever say those things, walk around like I owned the **** world? I knew they would find me and lock me up in this god d*** a**-hole. I can’t even bare to look at this f***ing place. Iron fences imprison us within a train yard of hell.
Children crying for the shrill of absent mothers. The sight of grown men falling to the feces and disease-ridden ground hoping for the sweet release of death. Its so bad, everyone wants on the "Party Line". That's the name given to the lucky *******s who get to walk into the injection room. The free ticket to anywhere but life...
I haven't made it there yet. I'm not that lucky. Call it Karma, call it "Pissing Whoever the **** Runs the Universe Off..." Whatever. I don't give a ****. I just want out of this life. I was one of the lucky few to be immune to the vaccines...if you want to call them that....the government made mandatory for all kinds of ****. H1N1, you name it.
It's all the same, the plan was to get you worried about getting sick, manipulating the press and media. Telling you "Look at this! So many people are sick! It's an epidemic, hurry get a vaccine before you die!!!"
It was so easy make you want the vaccine. You take it like the sniveling coward you are, thinking you'll never be sick again. Think you're f***ing Superman. Yeah, me too. But the trick was that the vaccine actually carried a new artificial plague.
Then they tell you that you need cured again. So they send you to the "quarantine camp" telling you its a little retreat while they find your so called "cure". Then you end up here.
If your like me, your immune to this disease and you know the plan now. So you try speak out against it. You get all self-righteous and courageous....but all you’ve really become is a zit in the plans of the people running the world.
You need to be exterminated just like those sick people. So they track you through corporate branches like "Big Brother" and they stalk you, just waiting like a wild animal waiting to pounce on its prey. They wait until your outside carrying in your groceries and medical treatments for your wife, who by the way, probably will get sick and die anyway; and they drag you here by force.
It's not like it matters anyway. I'm just like everyone else in here: named by the number and penned up as a f***ing worthless animal. There's no one to save us. No hope. I even have trouble remembering my name anymore. I've been referred to by that number so much it's become who I am. 34115. I have it memorized in the back of my head. It's all I have anymore and that **** guard Jennings knows it. 34115. He makes me recite it like a poem.
To him I'm f***ing worthless and unworthy to be on this Earth. He wants to torment me. 34115. It must be on the dot. Not too slow or I'm being a lazy dip sh**. Not too fast or I'm a smart-a**. I've said those digits so many times they're embedded in my jaw. My stomach is painted black and blue from the butt of his rifle. I wish I could see his cold heartless face behind that gas-mask. I want to claw his eyes out with my fingers. I want him to look into my eyes the way I look into those black empty lenses. Ah, here he comes now.
"Alright you f***ing worm. TELL ME WHAT YOUR GODD*** NAME IS BECAUSE I JUST CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT YOUR WORTHLESS SACK OF SH** IS CALLED!" he screamed through the muffled curtain of his mask.
"3...4...1...1...5," I recited like an uncaring robot as I have for so long. I spoke with a tone of hatred and sarcasm. I knew it would piss him off, but quite frankly I didn’t give a ****.
"YOU F***ING LITTLE SH** D**K! How dare you get smart with me. Get ready for the Hole you ****-weed!" With that he looked down on me as he always did, and being the dog I am; I looked away as if he were my superior.
CRACK!
That sharp, reverberating pulse was lightning through my skull. I felt the abrasive, cold palm of the dirt against my face. My ears popped like a firecracker and the ringing soon drowned the rest out. That cold abyss of darkness soon took hold of my conscienceness again. I was free to dream, free to rest my soul.
Chapter1: Pain Paid in Kind
Oh my God, the pain. It's almost unbearable. It's eating at my skin like an infectious parasite, clawing at my bones, and ripping through my organs. I can't even breathe. I knew I should have watched how I recited my number. 34115. I could have avoided this agony. Why won’t this gas kill me already?
I've almost become accustomed to this room.They call it the Hole. I've been here so many times before, its almost too familiar to me like a second home. The cold, hard tiles are jagged shards of ice beneath my quivering feet.
The walls which shrink by the second are stained as black as my lungs by the gas. It travels through those long corroded pipes along the ceiling. It travels down the wall and out the end near my face where it burns my body and puts its invisible hands around my neck; choking the life out of me.
I'm only supposed to be in here for 30 minutes by camp regulation. Jennings knows the rules as well as I do. But he wants me to suffer more than anyone else. He wants my very will to live smothered away by pain and torture. He leaves me in here for hours at a time hoping that when he comes back, I'm so close to death that he can taste the decay through that cold ominous mask.
I don't hate him him for it though. Hate is a word for the p*ssies who think they could do something about it. No, I don't hate him. Instead, I loathe the one who gives him his next breath, I wish to that being in control of his miserable existence to take his every fiber of his presence and obliterate it one by one. Then that very same God can do it to himself.
After that long hour of agony, Jennings returned only out of fear that the warden would see how long I've been in here. That sniveling guard turned off the gas valve and slammed the door open. As he walked towards me, he patted his hand with his night stick. I knew what was coming as well as he did. He grabbed my matted hair and twisted it as if to pull it out of my scalp. Suddenly, I felt numb across my face as he smashed my checks from left to right with that ****ing stick. My vision blurred and my legs were no longer functioning.
As I fell, the guard grabbed my beaten skull and cracked it against the wall. It felt like my skull fractured into millions of glass shards. That unbearable pain stabbed my brain with its dagger. My consciousness began to fade away from me again. Was he going to let me dream again? Was he letting me off this easily?
No, I didn't think so. He grabbed me by my scarred neck and shook me awake. I stared at him with dazed vision. I knew he was smiling through that **** gas-mask. I've come to know him quite well. Jennings brought me close to his faceless head and I could hear the muffle of his filtrated air. I saw him reach into his pocket. And what he pulled out, I would never forget.
"You know what this is don't you worm?" he snarled, "Thats why I left you in here for so long. It's your birthday present! I hope you like it."
He flicked the igniter for the lighter. The flicker grew in my fearful eyes. My vision was consumed by the dancing fire. It taunted me as it bobbed up and down and flickered from side to side. It knew no mercy, it wouldn’t feel bad about scorching every inch of by body. I’m the only person who is going to feel anything.
He laughed at my fear and quickly threw the flame into my face. My face was soon engulfed in the arms of hell. I could do nothing but scream. It ate threw my already blistered skin. Its fiery teeth sunk in to my very bones. The stench as it burned was the last thing I remember before that peaceful blanket of darkness covered my torment. Happy Birthday to me.
I awoke back in my prison to the loud crackle of gunfire. Perhaps another prisoner who thinks he's man enough is trying to escape. It doesn't matter how fast you think you are. You're not faster than a bullet to your brain. Speaking of which, I'm surprised mine is still functioning.
Anyway, the sounds grew louder and soon an uproar of prisoners drowned the gunfire out. What was happening? Suddenly as the chaos started, a tidal wave of prisoners swarmed through the camp as a number of men holding rifles were unlocking our cages. Who are they? Why are they freeing us? Soon, my gate was opened and a masked figure approached me.
"Can you fire a rifle?" He asked.
I could not speak through the enormous swelling in my throat. Could I fire a rifle? I can hardly see through the scarred tissues of my eyes. Despite my physical difficulties, I nodded my head and gave a grunt somewhat of a yes. With that, he threw me a firearm and ran out. As I caught my new toy, the cold feel of the metal buzzed the palm of my hand, cooling the burning sensation. I now had a score to settle. I cocked the weapon and ran out of my filthy pen. In front of me about 40 yards was the guard depot. Ready or not here I come, Jennings.
I smashed in the door with the bottom of my foot. The wood was nothing more than paper as it gave way under the force of my anger. You can't hide from me. I raised my rifle and aimed it upon the shadows. I know he's in here. That coward wont come out and fight me, so I'll just find him. I can taste the vengeance upon my charred lips.
Into the main office I barreled my way. The lights were off, but that wasn't a problem. I can smell him. The sent of cheap booze and medical supplies filled the room as if it were a light leading me right to him. As I walked towards the desk, I saw his feeble body in the fetal position under it like it would actually save him. Let's have some fun.
"Gee, should I recite my name again for you sir?" I taunted with a gruesome raspy tone, "34115!"
There was a ruffle under the large oak desk. I could sense his fear.
"Was that too slow?!" I yelled.
I slammed the butt of my rifle into the desk and flipped it on its side, revealing my hiding tormentor. I will make my pain his. My misery his own. He brought upon the wrath of a thousand hells. I shot his leg from point blank range. The splatter of blood and the snap of bone echoed through the room.
"C'mon talk to me! WAS THAT TOO SLOW?"
I lowered the rifle towards his right leg. He screamed in agony as I pulled that cold, unforgiving trigger. Yes. I love it. I beat his skull into the floor with the butt of my weapon just to hear him scream some more. I want him to plead for his pathetic life the way I did for so long under his tyranny. I took his mask and placed it aside. I want to see the face of my devil. I want to watch him suffer face to face. His face was that of a mere cowardly man. His cheeks were chubby and his hair was balding. His eyes were watering in pure terror.
"P-please! I'm sorry!!! DON'T KILL ME!!!" he screamed.
I stuck my disfigured face right in his, "Kill you? Is that what you think I want to do? After all the good times we had?"
I grabbed the knife from his security vest and stabbed his side. I wrenched the blade in then back out. I will kill you. But I want to enjoy it. I firmly secured him to the floor which soon became stained red with his blood as I lightly sliced across his major veins and arteries.
I didn’t get an A in anatomy for nothing. Finger by finger I dismembered him smiling as I did so. I could see the life bleeding out of him. He didn't have much longer. His screams got softer and softer until he had only enough energy to breathe. I placed my face right next to his and began to whisper,
"My name was Thomas."
With that, the one person in my life that I knew so well, died. But he wasn't the only one. On this day I died as well. Thomas Allen was no more. Only 34115 remained. I took the god-awful mask off the floor and placed it over my burned face. I want those who cross me to feel the torment as I did. I want them to see the face of death.
I stood up off the blood-soaked floor and walked back out into the cold grasp of the night. I guess now I will meet with whoever let me out of my hell. They've just unleashed a beast...
Chapter 2: Looks Like We Have Visitors.
I returned to the cold hug of Texas air as I stepped back outside. It whipped against my tattered clothes and pinched my wounds, however there was a new feeling in the air. Not pain. Not Death. Not even Sorrow. It was relief.
I actually felt relieved; calm in-fact. If there weren’t other matters to take care of, I’d almost take a second to enjoy it. I feel strange just thinking the word “enjoy”. Enjoyment was as far away from me as Space, I had forgotten it even existed.
I held my weapon firm and walked back down to the campgrounds where there was a mass collection of prisoners crowded around the camp’s podium. We usually do this when the Warden has an announcement of some sort, which by the way is never good.
But judging by the commotion of the crowd this was something important to hear. I nudged my way passed the repulsing bodies of other prisoners. Their god-awful stench was enough to make me pass out even with a gas-mask, but I guess that’s to be expected from sleeping in dirt and showering in noxious gases.
I found my way to the front of the crowd to see a squad of men atop the platform. They obviously had made short work of the camp faculty and with good reason. The men wore what looked like scavenged armor from various sources including Police, S.W.A.T., and even that of the military. Their weapons were less than top quality but deadly enough to get the job done. Yet, one man stood out of the rest.
The man was obviously built to fight standing at least 6 foot 5“ with arms and legs like that of cannons off a battle ship. His face was that of an older man. Experience and authority seemed to radiate from him.
The man’s torso also consisted of scavenged body armors. Yet, what stood out the most to me was the insignia on his chest. It looked like the American symbol of justice with crossbones beneath it.
I must say I give these walking Power Rangers credit for their creativity, not to mention the weapon; but let’s hope they actually have some kind of plan devised. I doubt the corporate people in charge of this place will like to hear that they have just had their camp taken over and had a whole poked in their wallets. I waited to here the tall man speak, which after a moment of waiting for the crowd to settle, he did.
“Hello fellow Americans, I am acting Ground-Officer Sergeant Pike. On behalf of the Regulators of Liberty, Operation Dusk is in effect. As tribute to your freedom, I in encourage all of you willing and able to take up arms and join us in our fight. Our mission is simple: reclaim the state of Texas and eventually this country. You will not be forced to join, but if you refuse, you must leave this facility. It is now our new base of operations. If you do join, your first task will be to help us reclaim the Bilderberg-controlled oil rig a few miles from here. To your left is our quartermaster who will arm you with the basic supplies and weapon of the Regulators. To your right is the gate. You all know what waits for you there. Don’t let it hit you in the *** of the way out. That is all.”
After hearing his speech, many left the campgrounds in groves. Obviously what many of them didn’t realize is that they will most likely die out there alone, between the gangs, raiders, and the rouge soldiers. I, myself, thought it might be fun to shoot more things. I realized my passion of mindless killing. There was no way I’d pass up the chance to cause more mayhem.
It was just too much fun. I waited in line until it was my turn to receive my basic supplies and uniform. It was like getting one of those bags at a party.The quartermaster, after handing me my bag, looked at me with a “what the **** is that?” face and stepped forward. He was looking at my camp ID tag. 34115. My name.
“Excuse me sir, Im going to have to ask you to remove those tags. No unapproved neckwear.”
He reached his hand forward to remove it from my neck. What the hell does he think he is doing? I snatched his arm out of my face and wrenched it down across my body. I held it with a cold, hateful grip as if I was going to crush every bone in his body. He grimaced in pain when I did so.
“Unless you want to loose this hand. I’d suggest you f*ck off,” I sneered in anger.
The men around me were quick to react. Within at least a couple of seconds, their guns were raised to my head ready to separate it from my body. Great. I pissed them off before I even started. I didn’t even get to shoot someone. Oh well, can’t say I didn’t see it coming. Have at it boys.
“Stand down!” Someone ordered from behind me.
The guns were dropped from my face and I turned to see who had postponed my brains from staining the ground. It was the man from the podium. Sergeant Pike or something like that. Yeah. Lets see what the leader of the power rangers has to say.
“I admire your aggressiveness there, son,” he said, “I need someone like you in this fight.”
The quartermaster had regained control of his hand and looked at his superior in complete shock. “Sir, if I may say, this man is-” he began before he was interrupted.
“This man is a squad leader,” said the Sergeant, “get him a suit of armor and an insignia. Then you come see me in my tent.”
I was just as stunned as the Quartermaster. I almost smiled under my mask, but my face still burned like a motherf*cker. After being given my new uniform, I removed my filthy camp garb and replaced it with the body armor. It felt warm, safe and lethal. I felt like a bullet proof train. As ordered, I approached the tent. There were two men guarding the entrance like little toy soldiers. Pathetic. I proceeded to enter once the two boy-scouts saw my insignia and stepped out of the way.
When I entered, Sergeant Pike was talking to another squad leader. Most likely about the same bullsh*t he was going to tell me next. As he finished, I looked around the tent. In the center of the room was a small wooden table taken from the warden’s office. I noticed it right away because I saw the crack in the side where the warden slammed my face into the desk. To my left was a tiny army cot where Pike stood and to the right was a map of the points of interest in the surrounding area of the camp. My head turned when I heard the Sergeant speak loud enough for me to hear.
“That’s all,” he told the other man.
I stepped forward once the other man left. Here we go with the authority crap. I might as well tell him how its going to be before he finds out the hard way.
“Before you give me the ‘I’m your superior crap’ let me just tell you this: I have a problem with authority, I kill anything that moves and I’m reaaally in a bad mood right now,” I told him.
He chuckled, surprisingly, and began, “Thats why I picked you. I need a bada** who can get the job done no questions asked. All I ask of you is, don’t kill my men, get the job done, and make one hell of a mess along the way.”
I like this guy already. This is my kind of a job and this guy speaks my language. I’d be more than happy to get started as soon as possible. I think these power rangers might just be killers after all. All except for that Quartermaster. I have a feeling me and him are gonna have a talk again. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt him until he starts it. God, I hope he starts it.
“Get some sleep tonight, your tent is five down left from here. Fist thing we need to treat those burns then we’ll have you assemble your team tomorrow. Then its off to your first mission. That’s all for now.”
“Yes sir,” I replied.
I wondered how the hell he knew about my burns first of all. But for the time being. it really wasn’t all that important. I started for the exit of the tent. I might just get a good night’s sleep tonight. I haven’t had one of those in so long.
I wonder what it feels like. All this time I thought death was my only way to escape, but maybe it was never my death that set me free. Maybe its the death of others that will bring me happiness. As these thoughts rolled through my head, I opened the flap to the tent. I looked out into the dark nighttime sky and sighed a sweet breath of relief...
Chapter 3: I’m Not a Team Player
You god**** *****! I pulled my face away from the hands of the nurse as she rubbed some kind of cream on my cheeks and forehead. Jesus, that hurts. This is way too early for me to be up anyway, not to mention have my scorched face rubbed on. She smiled when I pulled away. What a *****. Good thing she’s pretty or I’d backhand the hell out of her.
“Oh come on you baby,” she teased, “I’m almost done.”
I let her finish screwing my face up. She then took some Gauss tape and wrapped half of my face in it. I, by the way, hate the smell of Gauss tape. She told me I could go, but I waited for her to leave. When she did, I checked out her *** and legs. ****, she had it going on down there. Maybe when I’m done with my first love of killing, I might just have to....
“Glad to see your enjoying the nurse, Squad Leader,” said a man from outside the tent.
It was Pike. I stood up, ignoring the remark and put on my mask and uniform. He stepped inside and waited for me to finish. When I did, he lead me outside into the dawn.
The morning was wet with moisture and ground was damp with dew. The Sergeant lead me to a group of soldiers waiting for him. There were at least ten of them, three of them were camp members that I remember having cages close to mine.
“Take your pick,” he said, “only 4.”
Man, it was like picking kids for a school yard game. Except the game I was playing wouldn’t be so nice. I want only the most hard-core and deadly on my team. I scanned the group looking for my crew of death. Hmmm....I saw a big black man in the back. He had a scar across his face which looked pretty menacing by itself. His arms looked like ****ing tree trunks. ****ing bad ***.
“I want that N*gger in the back,” I said with a cold uncaring tone.
He stepped forward and saluted me and stepped to my right side. I could tell he heard my racist comment. Hehe, I really couldn’t resist. Now, whose next? Whoa, hold on. I just noticed a man in the far right. His expression was completely twisted and he twitched like an LSD addict. He seems interesting.
“Can this man shoot?” I pointed.
One of the regulators replied, “Hell yeah, I saw him shoot a guard from a catwalk with a pistol from 40 feet away!”
“He’s a sick little ******* though, he **** all over his cell then stabbed the guard to death with a ****ing pencil! I read it on his record in the warden’s office,” another said.
A man after my own heart! Just what I need. I gestured for him to join me. Now just two more little *******s. I already had more than what I needed. I need to do this professionally.
I closed my eyes and randomly chose the next two. They couldn’t tell I did this beneath my mask, so it’s all good. Alright done. Let’s move on to more important things, like killing. Lots of it.
“Alright, mission time,” I stated as I looked back at Pike.
“Hehe, not just yet. Be back here tomorrow for debriefing and then we head out, but first we still got to assemble the other squads,” he told me.
He nodded and walked off to the other squads. God**** it. Tomorrow? What am I supposed to do for the rest of the day? I want out of here now. Eh, I wonder if that nurse is busy...
“Sir?”
One of the men from my new team stepped forward. He must have been one of my randomly picked choices. He was a white man, about 5 ft 10” with that familiar shaved head, courtesy of the camp. His brown eyes were heavy with black bags of pain underneath.
His body was sickly, but that face....it had something I haven’t seen in a long time. It was youthful, no older than 18 or 19. He must have been a lady-killer before this ****. Yet, more importantly was beyond his face itself, it was his mouth. He had a smile.
“Yeah, what is it?” I asked.
“Well, sir, I just want to say thanks for picking me. I’m sure I will-” he said before I cut in.
“No, stop right there, Skippy. Don’t thank me. In fact, all of you listen to me. You are all the most unlucky group of people here. Do you know why? Because I’m a ****ing psycho. I will kill anything that moves and I’m hardly a team leader," they all looked at me as I continued, “I’m only helping out for a free ride to as close as they’ll get me to the Big Shots. So if you plan on living, here’s the ****ing rules. One, stay out of my way. Two, don’t call me Sir because I don’t deserve respect. Three, if you want to impress me, murder is what I’m looking for. Senseless murder. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”
The team was silent, all except for the little smiling brat took their weapons and left. He stood there for a moment to take in what I had said, then his smile evaporated of his face. He, then too, left with the others.
Good, no more smile. ****ing little prick almost made me sick. I walked past the rows of make-shift tents, they were lined off like houses. It somehow reminded me of the old neighborhood.
I opened the flap to the barrack tent and walked back inside. Inside was one table for all of us to eat and play cards at and then there were the bunk-beds. Disgusting, scratchy, and with another man right above me while I sleep.
Peachy, right? I fell into the hard mattress and into the arms of sleep. My thoughts vanished and the arms rocked me into that sense of comfort, almost has if all the **** in my life never existed. I love sleep.
Chapter 4: A Short History Lesson
“Wake up honey” she spoke with that soft, milky voice.
I looked up at her from my warm pillow. The sun’s yellow rays passed through the window onto her perfect brown hair, turning it into a sea of gold. It looked like honey straight from a hive.
Her face, soft and loving, smiled at me with that gorgeous grin she always had. She rivaled that of God’s most beautiful angel. I sometimes wonder what I did for He, himself to give me his most beautiful creature in the universe. Whatever it was, I’m glad I did it. I’d do it a million times over again.
“Yeah,” I said sleepily as a stared into those diamond blue eyes.
“I think the baby’s kicking,” her words floated through the air on an invisible cloud.
I moved my head to her belly and listened. After hearing a soft thump inside. I almost cried. Thats my child in there. It loves me already, I know it. My life has been blessed more than the richest king. I have a job as a very successful talk-show host, number two in the nation in fact. I have been given my angel I call my“wife”, and now a baby soon to arrive. I just hope this isn’t some kind of dream to wake up from.
“I heard it, Jess,” I said, “I heard it.”
Suddenly a loud screech from a crow sounded from outside the window. **** bird, it built a nest up there last summer and now it’s back. As it sounded off like a siren, I looked at Jessica and got up from the bed. Walking along the cold floor, opened the window and shoo-ed the annoying pest away. How weird, that crow was bigger and louder than I last remembered.
Anyway, thats not going to ruin my Saturday. I lay beside her and she took my hand. Her skin was like lavender against my own. She smiled again as she rubbed my arm. God, I might just melt. I cupped her hands in mine and leaned forward as my lips met hers. It was like picking strawberries off a bush in the early morning.
“Can you go carry in the groceries for me, please,” she coaxed, “I went and got them, this morning.”
I glanced at my pants on the floor,“Haha, I knew there was a price. Yeah, I’ll be right back.”
After putting on my clothes, I walked down the brown, oak stairs. I opened the white door to the outside. The morning was cool and bright. The sun glanced off the tree in the front yard and glistened in the dewy grass causing diamonds in the blades. The birds flew while sang about their business. I stepped onto the sidewalk, continuing to the car. I opened the trunk and lifted the bags of food in my arms. As I closed the hatch, I saw Jess standing there watching over me. I can’t describe her anymore than perfect.
“I love you!” I yelled.
She waved, “I lo-”
She suddenly stopped and her eyes widened like giant saucers. Her face was struck with shock and horror. What the heck? Whats wrong?
Thump!
My neck was engulfed in tremendous stinging pain. My eyes burned instantly and my body ceased to be under my control. My groceries no longer existed and I fell to the concrete feeling only the cold surface on my face. My vision began to fade. I looked at the door where she stood. There were other figures there.....men? They seemed to be talking about something. NO! They grabbed her and drug her down like a rag-doll. I will ****ing kill you!
My ears rang like church bells. My limbs were as stiff as a board. I felt something still in my neck...a dart? A tranquilizer perhaps? God, why does it burn?
I felt myself being drug across the ground but I didn’t care. My wife was tied and gagged and the men continued into my house. I tried to fight back but my body would not function. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? My wife....my Jess.
I was thrown into the back of what I think was a large truck. The steel floor was hard and unforgiving against my back. Then, right in front of me was a man. His face was hidden in a tactical SWAT mask. But I could see the gun and the most important thing in all of this. On his chest was the seal of my fate. I could hardly see it in my blindness but I made out it out. Federal Emergency Management Agency was emblazoned on his chest.
“Welcome to the New World Order,” he spoke with a cold voice....
I leaped up from my bed in fright. My face doused in cold sweat and my hands shivering. I had that dream again. The very memory of that day they took everything from me, my very reason to live. They will ****ing pay. Every single one of them. Especially all those directly involved with my capture. Consider me the Agent of Karma.
Well since it’s the middle of the night, I guess its time for a quick history lesson. Oh boy. What a treat. A history lesson from the most ****ed up book on the shelf: my life. I’d go grab a snack real quick, or maybe take a piss. I wouldn’t want you to piss yourself.
It all started almost 4 years ago, in 2011. The Federal Emergency Management Agency, or FEMA had reached its final phase in operations. We thought it was created for natural disasters. Well what we didn’t know was that they created those disasters in the first place. From economic crisis to terrorist attacks, they set it all up in false flag operations.
Now, the constitution is all but some piece of paper sitting in a bunker in the middle of DC. It holds no power. All forms of communication and media have been suspended and the only way you can send a message to someone without FEMA in your face is by mouth or by primitive radio frequencies.
After giving all power and sovereignty to the United Nations and the world banking system, it started training in search and seizure operations for FEMA’s ground forces when capture of uncooperating U.S. citizens began. You didn’t think we Americans would take this global sellout so easily did you?
Next the other divisions of FEMA were used to induce biological weapons for use in medicines and vaccines to help wipe out the mass majority of the population. This was done slowly and carefully so that by 2012, it was in full effect. Thousands of sick, died or were moved to camps all over the the country.
People like me, successful people of the media, poked our little noses out and decided we could win a battle already light-years above our heads by speaking out against these actions. Thats when EXECUTIVE ORDER 10995 and EXECUTIVE ORDER 11000 went into effect. Bilderburg, the company run by the U.N, could now control the media and mobilize civilians into camps for any work or reason assigned by the new global government.
How could this happen, you ask? Well its simple. The U.S. and U.N. has been slowly working on things that would future aid them for this since the 1900s. I’m not saying the government was behind it back then, I’m merely saying they knew that if one day they needed these extreme actions, they were there for safe keeping.
I’m not sure if even the president knew of just how extreme these actions were. He just knew that the government said it needed to be done, so he waved his almighty pen and set it into effect. And now, 2015. Everything is all in plan. The states are now run by Bildergurg and policed by FEMA.
The population will soon be under control within the next five to ten years. Three-fourths of us will either be dead or in a camp and the rest escapees, gangs, or glorified organizations like the Regulators of Liberty. The only people free of this hell are the rich *******s in safe-houses and the foreign goons they use to do the dirty work.
Soon, they will all pay. I am a man of my word. I am a man who has had every life, liberty, love, and happiness stolen from me. I know I’ll never get it back, that ship sank with my capture. No, I can only promise death and destruction for the rest of the world...
But maybe there is still a chance....maybe I can still find her.
