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Guest Damon

My Car Got Stuck.

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Guest Damon   
Guest Damon

I managed to be blessed with a candy blue truck. You could say the slight rust on it made it unappealing, but I thought it was perfect. My legs were tired and the gear I had to carry in my thick tortilla backpack was exhausting. I took vehicles before the outbreak for granted. I had an order from headquarters to pick up my Commander, Zed Muto. He was a good man. He fought the good fight against the Masquerade. The Masquerade are a sick group. They indoctrinate themselves in some sort of sick ideology that there are no more rules. The Regulators, we're prison guards. We breathe, sweat, and live order. We are structure. The sad reality is that the Masquerade and us are polar opposites. Maybe one day I can understand. I was so caught up in these thoughts that I did not notice the decline in the ground next to a long white barn. My car got stuck. I noticed a campfire. Like any sane person during this period, I was scared but I tried to assure myself they were only trying to help. I ran both of the palms of my hands down my face as if it were some magical remedy to cure my stress. I think four or five people approached me when I took my leave from my car. I felt very vunerable but kept trying to assure myself that it would be okay. They questioned me and knew I was lying. They knew who I was, I mean, why wouldn't they? I messed up though. I messed up big time. I tried to run. I don't know why. I just stood there and stared at the girl infront of me in a cowboy hat. It made no sense at all. I just had this really numbing yet tingling sensation and everything was quiet. I didn't even make my legs run, they just moved, as if I just had to think and they would go. I only managed to run ten feet before they all aimed their weapons and threatened to murder me. I cried. They picked me up and began walking with me. My emotional state was a misty haze of pure anger yet tears were rolling down my cheeks. I felt so numb, my legs were shaking. I was so scared. I knew I would end up like Jacob Webster. I knew they would torture me. They would sew a mask to my face. That is why the entire way to the next town over, I debated myself. I debated myself with my life. I never had to debate myself, especially over such a topic. I couldn't believe I was doing this to myself. My life was normal, I went to school, my father worked on pipelines, I wanted to go home. I don't deserve this. My thoughts were cut short to them shoving me ahead. They told me about Zed Muto, how he use to be a cannibal, how he use to be accquaintances with one of the Masquerades. I forced myself to not believe them because I did not want to believe.

I was done debating with myself at that point. There were only three choices at this point.

A. They torture me and I possibly survive.

B. I end it right here.

C. I survive, I survive and move on, and eventually - the entire world collapses on me as I lose my sanity and I become one of them.

I chose B.

I slowly took out a grenade from my pocket as we ran and then I stopped. They all stared at me as I stared at the ground and lifted the grenade. I was done. It was over.

I woke up the next day in a farm. I was in so much pain. I can't believe it did not turn out to be the choice I made. It was not B. It was A and C. They mentally destroyed me and now that I survived, I must deal with the scars they gave.

I promise myself that I will exterminate the Masquerade.

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