{"sf1_id":684983,"sf2_id":"Rm0oE83e","title":"#001 - Michael Crowshaw","author":"SylarEnderpaws","words":339,"posted_at":"2014-03-27T01:44:00.000Z","tags":["Death","Human","depressed","murder","suicidal"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/684983-001-michael-crowshaw","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/Rm0oE83e","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/3c/37/3c37a694-6e30-4cc7-b628-ff363c69c2cc","description":"#2 of Stories [Kill. Survive. Die]","content":" **#1 - Crowshaw, Michael**  \n  \n_Age: 38 \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;Sex: Male_\n\nJanuary 27, 2028,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;\"I know. I know where I am. Hell. I just woke up one day. After the second nuke wiped where I say I live off the face of the planet by my own nation, I can, with confidence, say that I live in hell. Wipe the first layer of dirt off from where you live, you will surely find hell too.  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;Betrayed by my sworn protectors, I now wake up in a world where I would rather not wake up at all. I wake up every day terrified that when I open my eyes, I will be some sort of abomination.\"\n\n* * *\n\nFebruary 8, 2028,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;\"This is my last spoonful of food. I have half a bottle of clean water left. I'm going to starve. I cringe at the thought of again going Out There.  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;I can see the white bone in my right forearm. I woke up to the last of my muscle slowly leaking out from it's sizable hole. Going Out There for merely five minutes did this to me. I need to find a gun. A knife will only give me time to turn back, then who knows what may happen to my body with a gaping irradiated neck wound.  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;It's rather funny, isn't it? I want more than anything to die, but, I cower from the death that awaits me Out There.\"\n\n* * *\n\nFebruary 10, 2028,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;\"I think I managed to hide from them, but they're still hanging around. This masement can't hide me forever. I can still hear him Out The\"\n\n**_The writing continues again, a few lines down, written in frantic panic_**\n\n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;\"I HEAR HIS BOOTSTEPS. HIS HEAVY BREATHING ABOVE.\"\n\n**_Part of the note was ripped_**\n\n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;\"HE HEARD IT. THE PAGE.\n\n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;I DON'T THINK I WILL SURV\"\n\n_ **The rest of the note was stained with blood.** _\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Stories [Kill. Survive. Die]","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/684977-003-blake-wonet.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/684988-002-madison-king.json"}}