Number 394
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Jan 4, 2014
My name has been lost throughout the years I've been asleep. I awoke in this lab not long ago, and was locked into this dull, white room. The faint drip from a loose pipe in the ceiling is my only comfort here. The men here tell me that I am the only survivor. Of what, I'm not sure. From what I've been told, the experiment they're performing is inhumane and brutal. I am a coward, however. I will not pursue questions and risk my life. They would not listen, anyways. Before I was locked away, I was given this thick journal, a pen and a list of events to write about. There aren't many valid memories left in my head anymore, but I can try to write what I can. The only real thing I know about this place currently is this: I am number 394.
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#706
awakening
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Ended

I am dying. I know this because i can feel all my senses leaving me. I can see flashes, recollections, of my past. They preen at me through my lashes. But I am calm. There is a feeling of delirium thumping in my heart, spreading through my body. With the little strength that I can muster, I reach out to take hold of the nearest objects to me. It ties me to the earth, but when my eyes no longer see light, the bond that keeps me on this world will be severed, and no longer shall i be alive. What if you and a four other people where the only ones alive on earth? After the Apocalypse, everyone died. Except for five of us. My name is Thalia, when I was thirteen years old, the earth was broken by deadly storms, methane, tsunamis, earthquakes. I survived. For years I wandered the earth, raiding abandoned shops for food, seeking shelter. Now I am fifteen, I feel like I have found a home. I have found a band of survivors like me. These people survived the Apocalypse, and now, we want answers .

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