James sat down, looking at his amateur radio, which was wired up to another small machine, on the table, there seemed to be some documents, along with some drinking water, which looked half full, the table dimly illuminated by a small lamp, that faded in and out slightly.
"W-what am I going to do.." A dishearted, shallow voice came from the pony, burying his face in his arms, his breathing getting tense for a moment.
"Food..." He picked up a small pencil, that had no eraser, and started to write on one of the journals on the table.
"Please, if you're reading this, then I'm most likely... Dead, I've been trying to contact somebody for weeks now, I've also been working on my own project, a type of drug that can make you unnoticable by those... Things, but I'm not sure if it'll ever work... I don't have any materials.... I barely have food, but I only have one request.. Try and finish the concotion, I left the instructions on the top right shelf, next to my sleeping bag..."
He shook his head, thinking that the mixture would obviously be useless, he scrunched up the piece of paper, throwing it in the other wise full trashbin.
"I need to lay down..." He sighed, slowly walking over to the sleeping bag, checking his supplies on the way. "Only one bag left of corn... Just a few bottles of water... I need to do another supply run..."
He sat down, thinking about his situation.
(he's in the radio station i guess)
Edited by Sierif, 15 March 2016 - 12:16 AM.