File type: Text File (.txt) [Download]
-----------------------------------------
Ms. Cheryl Deer
1487 Gadabout Pt.
Chicago, IL 60827
April 14, 2017
Dear Ms. Deer,
My name is Kyle Park, and I request that before you put down this letter in disgust and call the authorities, that you please read it in its entirety.

You have no doubt heard the stories on the news about me, please allow me to explain.  The global morphological standards act of 2010, and the new word government that it created, are both measures that I supported.  I was previously aware of the anthro community that used magical measures to hide themselves in the human community; my wife being one.  The thought that my wife, my friends, coworkers, and children would finally be able to walk into public as themselves elated me.

Granted, I was shocked to learn the total ratio of humans to anthros, and a few friends were shocked to learn I was really human; I learned to love the new world.  I, like nearly every human on the earth, accepted this change with open arms, open hearts, and open minds.

The point at which my support ended was the passage of the revision of the morphological standards act in 2014 in late May.  As you know, this mandated that all humans choose an anthro form and submit to surgery by the end of the year.  Many humans accepted this and adamantly supported this cause; there were small factions that openly rejected it.  They were murdered.

I, myself, rejected it, but not openly.  My family, coyotes, urged me to become one.  Friends of mine who were prey species urged me to join them; an avian friend also suggested I join him.  The choice eventually became too much.  To choose what species I would remain for the rest of my life was too much.  I eventually decided it was best to have a large meeting of friends and family.

We talked about the advantages and disadvantages of different species, how life would likely change with each new morph.  We conversed about how relationships would change; family ties could potentially be broken.  It took us about six hours before we came to the conclusion of the best species for me: human.

Three of my closest friends, all human, also came to the same conclusion via similar meetings with friends and family.  We ordered pizza one night, and when the delivery boy, a fox, saw he was delivering to humans, he turned and left, disgusted.  This struck us as odd; he was a former human.

It wasn't until early October that we learned the reason why.

A friend of a friend, a nurse, worked with the surgeons who regularly preformed the operations.  She regularly attended the daily morning meetings where operations were dished out to employees.  According to her, the anthro surgeons came in one day hung-over, she said she heard them joking about how easy it was to make humans do anything after the surgery, how simple it was to rewire a human brain, how easily it was to force this upon them.

I know what you're thinking now; I know you're going to disregard everything I say as lunacy.  Who am I to change your view of the world as it is now?

But I want you to ask yourself this: What is real?  You have human friends; you may even still come into contact with them post-op.  What are they like now?  You have seen the change, you know it's there.  What of the new bill in progress now?  The one that will put every anthro under the knife for an operation that will "bring the new and old together."  How can you believe in this?

We went underground, all of us, all thirty of us.  Life was hell those two years.  I had to deceive my wife to believe I was dead.  If you look in the records you can see I was buried at Pine Hill cemetery.

We lived from the earth, we took runoff from the storm drains, we grew the only food we could, fungi, but it wasn't enough to live off.  We needed protein, vitamins C, D, A, and others, and our rations slowly ran out.

You think you know of the surfacing, you think you know how it started.  You think we robbed three gun shops, that we killed three sewage workers for their uniforms; you know nothing.

We surfaced in the dead of night, we exited through the open drain pipe down by the lake, and we already had our guns.  We had no intention to kill anyone, all we wanted was to take rations from the local factories and return underground.  So yes, we were thieves.

This is where the lies of your government end and the truth begins.

We were caught in the act.  They fired first.  We were, after all, the remains of a dead and illegal culture.  We stood in the way of a utopian society; we are the scourge of the earth.  We had only one purpose on this earth, to cease to exist.

We were aware of this possibility, and we were prepared, as I said, we already had our guns.  I watched bullets tear through my best friend, I watched his blood coat the walls, and I watched the only thing he had left taken away.

I fought, we all fought, we fought to live, and we fought for our species, our purpose.  I killed my friends that day, friends I had known that had changed.  Not specifically, but as a race.

Bullets flied, I pumped lead into at least five men, on my way out.  I was the only one with an automatic weapon.  When the bullets stopped, it was only me and one other.  A lone soldier.  We sat across the room from each other; both of us were unarmed, and do you now what I saw in his eyes?

I saw my son.  I saw hatred.  I saw hope.

I ran.

For the past year I have been the most wanted being alive.  You now find yourself asking: Why are you contacting me?  What do you want me to do?

Turn on your television and watch the last human die.  At precisely 3:00pm EST, I will attempt to walk into the chamber of the world council and ask for my rights as a sentient being.

Afterward; spread this message to the world.

--Kyle Park