Frank Junior "Grawp" Watson, 29, white British male, tall and broad, with perhaps a little more weight than he'd like to admit to. Frank was often found enjoying his life a little too much. Even at the expensive of others. He would often scam his way onto private yacht parties, into VIP sections of clubs and sometimes (if he moved enough product) would host his own lavish parties. Late nights out turned into long weekends. Long weekends become a week break. A week break becomes, how long has it been... His lifestyle finally caught up with him, and he woke to find himself in hospital. He was on the brink of death, his body was giving up on him after years of cocaine abuse. He had two options; 1- Clean up and be admitted to a rehabilitation centre. 2- Pack your stuff, you're going to die. Frank didnt want to die, but he also hated the idea of being trapped in a rehabilitation prison. So he chose option 2, with a twist. He used the last of his money to purchase a one way ticket to Chernarus where he knew an old school friend had settled. He knew his friend was working in Berezino in a lumbermill, so his first stop was there. His one thought, "Pack your stuff, it's time for a new life" Wolly Wilson was thrilled to see Frank again, he even referred to him as "Grawp" which was a nickname given through school for Frank's troll like behaviour. Grawp never told Wolly the state he'd got himself in, and even when Wolly would ask why he occasionally woke in cold sweats, shaking and shivering... Grawp just explained he had bad dreams. Grawp overstayed his work visa, continuing to work in the lumbermill. He had found comfort in hard labour. And his body was recovering well because of it. Little to their knowledge, that Chernarus had bigger problems than dealing with Frank's overdue visa. They overheard things on the radio, whilst they worked on the lumber, but they often scoffed at the news. Thinking that either it was some widespread practical joke, some hooligans were messing around, or the English translation of the news was getting some words mixed. Either way, some words in the news left a cold chill in the air for Grawp and Wolly. Cannibalism. Family members being slaughtered Crazed state of homeless people, who had begun charging towards CDF forces. One morning, Wolly was listening to a particularly bad news feed about a young girl who was found torn limb from limb when Grawp suddenly lept from his bed. He was in a fit of panic, he had been trapped in a nightmare where he was drowning in a swimming pool filled with cocaine. Trying to keep his head above water, knowing that if his head went under... all the hard work he'd done to move away from that lifestyle would be over. All he knew was, he had to get out. So when he woke, his first instinct was to run for the door, which unfortunately for Wolly, was right next to the radio (and chair) that Wolly was sat on. Grawp sprinted, full speed towards the door, and Wolly (full of fear from the constant news stories) reacted in the only way he could. As Grawp approached, a crazed glint in his eye, Wolly grabbed a hatchet from the hook next to the door. Wolly turned back towards Grawp, and as Grawp was approaching so fast, he raised his hatchet, not to attack, but to defend himself. As Grawp was only another step or two away, with his footsteps beating as fast as Wollys heart. Wolly's fear got the better of him, he closed his eyes and brought his hatchet down. ... Grawp woke, with the waves crashing near... alone and afraid. He didnt have a clear memory, but he remembered lying on the floor and could vaguely see Wollys back as he ran out into the field, sprinting from something, clearly terrified.