User:1 8 7
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The Journals of 187
January-01-2009
I wake, lost, without memory. Fuel soaked into my clothes, bandages wrapped about my head and hands.
Who am I? Pain, everywhere about my body.
What is this place?
Arkham, my shattered brain whispers back. But I know not how I understand this, or what this word yet means.
--1 8 7 14:06, 1 January 2009 (UTC)
