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Opinion: Please Kill Me

Oh thank Christ, I finally found you. Yes you officer, the one with the shotgun. Sir, I need you to do me a real solid and please for the love of God kill me.

Now, I understand you may have some reservations. You’re sworn to serve and protect, after all, and I am a humble, if unique, resident of Raccoon City. But — shit, this hurts — I implore you to look past the latter of your duties and grant my brains a one way ticket on the bullet train immediately por favor.

Sweet Jesus, just do it already! I mean, look at me — my shoulder is a fucking eyeball! What is it even looking at? It’s not like I’m going to recover, sir. Even if you don’t send me to hell right now then what am I gonna do, just go back to being a brilliant scientist? I killed at least ten soldiers with an arm that’s verging on sentient just to make it here — you think they’re gonna just welcome Dr. Monster Mash back to the lab like none of that happened? I’m fucked, my friend. Dunzo. Kaput. So can you just end me now?

Shit… would I even die if you blew my head off? Oh god. Is my brain even in my skull anymore? It could be anywhere in this pile of guts…Wait! Stop! Come back! Don’t be afraid of that goliath in the trench coat! He’s harmless — I swear! Goddammit, there goes my chance. I’m gonna’ kill him for that.

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