"Aaaaand the majority of the time that is... Very young children... The first born taste like the most wonderful thing you can imagine..."
English
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"Probably not the same for most"
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"Definetly. We where hunted to extinction, I am one of the last.."
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"A sad fate"
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"Yeh. Me and Amelia are the two last." [b]a woman walks by, seemingly around the same age as Wheatley. as she walks by she drops a small package next to him and walks off. Both share many of the same physical characteristics. White hair and skin, pitch black eyes with a. White pupil in the middle, other than one thing... Wheatley wears a mask, a half mask he refuses to remove even while he sleeps[/b] "That's her actually, wonder what she's doing..."
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"Yes"
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"Yes what?"
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"I wonder too"
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"And I Aswell." [b]two people speaking come from a nearby hall, interrupted by gunshots and screaming. Wheatley likely runs faster than any Olympic champion down that hall, running past you with a wounded woman in his arms and a bloody kidney in his hand [/b]
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"What happened?"
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[b]he doesn't even answer, he just keeps running. The sound of his heavy breathing and manic footsteps fill the air as he bursts through a wall to the medbay, basically short-circuiting his prosthetic arm. Medics swarm him and steal away the woman. Wheatley just stands and watches for a moment before loading a handgun and walking back toward the area she was shot[/b]
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"What happened!?"
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[b]he still doesn't answer. As he rounds the corner, three thugs appear to be jumping another wisp, a child. Wheatley nails one through the head, the gunshot from a strange red Glock .45 appears to create strange red growths on the victims head. The man screams in horror and pain. He rushes the other two, immediately decapitating one and grabbing the other by the throat, slicing its neck with the sword and ripping the windpipe out of the cut like a savage. The kid cries and Wheatley tries to comfort it.[/b]
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"What is going on?!!"
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"Gangs, hunters... Our kind is worth a lot on the black market, dead or alive. There are still legends of a slave owner working his Wisp slave to death, then proceeding to eat the corpse... I've heard we're good sautéed with onion." [i]"DON'T SAY THAT, WHEATLEY!" [/i] "Sorry... It's true though. Now go to the medbay, Amy is waiting for you... Take this though." [b]he hands the kid a small chunk of a strange metal and he runs off[/b]