wary monolith
If you’re reading this, then yeah… I’m done.
Don’t bother looking for me, or do, it might actually be funny haha. (I’m the guy dressed in all black btw) But by then I will definitely be dead… or become one of those wretched ugly contagious freaks. Either way, not me anymore.
There’s a white van outside. (pause) it works just fine, 70% gas give or take, please take care of it, its the only car i hotwired, masterfully by me, also not many pristine cars like it around from what i checked so. Best thing i left behind.
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Page 2
The farm’s been… Handled, not perfect, probably stragglers, but if you’d see for yourself, atleast a dozen on the floor in the main courtyard. Cost me all my willpower so fuck you for taking the fruits of my labour for that one haha. It was all me…
Inside this house atleast from me you’ll likely find:
A shotgun with no shells
A SNB8 revolver with 46 rounds
some shitty junk food and snacks, also some cola and sodas
comics and magazines for nostalgia sakes even vhs movies
a few gun adresses i never got to. must be some nice firepower there atleast.
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Page 3
I always hoped I’d never have to write something like this ever but fucking life, so i have to.
Spent my whole life taking, that’s all i was good for, no guilt, no ties, no one to answer to. Thought i was smart, thought it made me unchained and free from this fucked up world.
Guess it made me empty, or i always was so i seeked the thrill of it.
And now look at me, shaking, fevered, pale, the worst fucking migraine imaginable, covered in blood that aint even fucking mine, sitting in a place i never even built or earned. Funny how that works…
ebon coral