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d30887.jpg
Dark Flash Prancer
d30887
"If you are reading this, get away from the cabin. NOW." is scrawled on the first page.
Most of the internal pages have been torn apart by a sharp set of claws, but some text is legible.
"...lopment of the property is going smoothly. However, our agenda involves mineral deposits, which have been buried beneath super-compacted ur..."
"..ke it up. Boss called for reinforcements, but the idiots in marketing are supplanting our peashooters with even smaller peashooters. We need engineers and howitzers, damnit! This is every monster movie..."
"...d, they killed the children, we tr..."
"...never seen anything so beauti..."
The last entry is inked in dried blood.
"This will be my final entry. The rest of my journal was ripped when I reflexively parried the skinwalker. Maybe that's for the best.
I work for a corporation that you have no chance in hell of exposing, so I won't bother to name it. We came here disguised as real estate agents when we were secretly trying to mine a newly discovered mineral, one which could revolutionize the computer industry. We found something more... and then we discovered it was already populated. Head office outright classified them as Native Americans, and ordered our 'security forces' to purge whoever they found. We tried speaking up, but they killed Jimmy, and then they framed him for mass-rape, and they succeeded, and now his family's ruined. We stopped speaking up then.
They unleashed a monster on us. Our guns chipped its marrow, but it kept growing back. It uses blood to fuel its weird powers. If you don't have a minigun, you don't stand a chance.
You may be tempted to blow this place to hell. Don't. The skinwalker is a rabid pet, owned by one fat mogul living in a massive city full of people who aren't evil assholes. If you massacre an entire population for the crimes of one CEO, there will be war, and we might lose. Just leave this place alone, forget it ever existed.
Are you still reading this? Run. Run before it can get you."
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