Alas, my 'friends' of Seattle 67... Fare thee well.

Wielding my blood splattered M9... I clutch it against my chest, your screaming and cries for help still drown the noise around me, shaking my body guilt ridden as I sat upon that shore, bearing gifts and supplies.

There was nothing I could have taken away from murdering all four of you in cold blood... Except for... How damn awesome it felt. Infiltrating your teamspeak server, carefully eavesdropping the conversation. Once you had crashed your Dinghy on the sand I knew it was time for me to creep out of the shadows of Elektro and head my way to Otmel. Not knowing the weapons you beared, nor supplies you carried, it was a risk I was going to take... You somehow managed to break free of the sandtrap and I yelled and prospered in glee to share my supplies with you... In which you made a fatal mistake... As the boat got closer, I double-tapped my M9 in each and everyone of your heads.

One does not simply trust other survivors in DayZ. I'm sure you will understand this the utmost when I say it was for my own survival.

Goodnight my sweet Princes.... Alas.

-Liberate