Botulism
Really Corrupt
- Joined
- Jun 19, 2023
- Messages
- 435
- Thread Author
- #1
Driving License issued by the Swedish Embassy in Pyongyang, Democratic People's Republic of Korea. Sometime in the late 20th century.
COLLABORATOR PERSONNEL RECORDS BUREAU, MUSEUM OF COMBINE AND INTERSTELLAR ATROCITIES, SOFIA, BULGARIAN HISTORICAL REGION
INFORMATION SAMPLE
(Records taken from Civil Protection files around the time of the Uprising.)
DATE OF BIRTH: BELIEVED TO BE 7/29/1973(?) POSSIBLE DOB ALSO 7/29/1983.
DATE OF DEATH: SOMETIME IN 202X.
BIRTHPLACE: TRONDHEIM, NORWAY
HEIGHT: 6'1
WEIGHT: 192 LBs
ALMA MATER: MD (NEVER GRADUATED), DDS, FACULTY OF MEDICINE, UNIVERSITY OF OSLO
LANGUAGES: NORWEGIAN, ENGLISH
SMILE.
I never wanted to be a dentist. I thought ill of the practice the moment I was diminished to it.
My whole damn life was decided on one fateful rainy day in a testing hall in the Faculty of Medicine in Oslo. Seven wrong answers was all it took to kill my career as a doctor forever. Society would've needed me many generations ago, but today? They threw me away, an angel in the trash, outcast by my lessers. They knew none of my familial heritage of doctors, none of what I was destined to be.
My whole damn life was decided on one fateful rainy day in a testing hall in the Faculty of Medicine in Oslo. Seven wrong answers was all it took to kill my career as a doctor forever. Society would've needed me many generations ago, but today? They threw me away, an angel in the trash, outcast by my lessers. They knew none of my familial heritage of doctors, none of what I was destined to be.
SING.
I joined the Red Cross, they were about the only fools who accepted me, and to the third world I went. I picked at the gums of starving Kurds, factory workers in Pyongyang, and refugee children in Kenyan camps. It was never a rewarding job, but I can imagine that for the men, women and children whom I treated seemed to value the practice well.
For once? I was appreciated, but I cared none for their love. They had no clue of the greatness to which I would achieve.
For once? I was appreciated, but I cared none for their love. They had no clue of the greatness to which I would achieve.
TOMORROW, I LIVE.
Enough work at the labor camp, enough plucking the gold and silver from their vile mouths. FINALLY. The Combine have seen fit to keep me living following the closure of Camp ███-█. My benefactors have finally found a use for all my training, all those wasted years, rectified, at last.
Eagerly, I dropped my instruments, my tools, my scalpels and my forsaken blades. The mirrors reflect into nothing but my wasted abyss.
I crept forward from my dark and industrial abode to find new prospects, new possibilities. I could become not just the man of medicine, but the man of action whom I had always dreamed of being. My immortality began that day.
Eagerly, I dropped my instruments, my tools, my scalpels and my forsaken blades. The mirrors reflect into nothing but my wasted abyss.
I crept forward from my dark and industrial abode to find new prospects, new possibilities. I could become not just the man of medicine, but the man of action whom I had always dreamed of being. My immortality began that day.
The apocalyptic turmoil of the twenty-first century was to be noted as the most catastrophic event in human history. Our population was reduced from over 7 billion to less than five million people within the span of a single generation. 50,000 years of human evolution and natural progress were undone in an unimaginably short amount of time.
Above all odds, we persevered and won our freedom in a war of resistance against unimaginable odds. What can never be forgotten were the collaborators. The Quislings who took up arms against the human race. The species-traitors who would've rather seen humanity extinguished as long as they were on the top of the food chain.
Good or bad, rich or poor, powerful or weak, collaborator or freedom fighter.
The human beings that lived during the Combine Occupation so long ago are all equal now.
