It’s not easy to find a good starting point for epics such as these, so I suppose I shall start with myself. I am writing this while imprisoned and awaiting my execution for crimes against The Overlord, political differences, treason, and dissent. I am Freak Boy, a survivor of the plague that shattered the earth in the early years of the millennium. With the help of a caravan of other survivors--both immune and afflicted--I made my way to the new center of civilization, Washington DC. For a long time, survival was the most important thing to my companions and I. When we got to Washington, it became organization, and restructuring. Ratifying and approving, blah blah blah--it all seems rather pointless now. I have learned the hard way democracy is impossible in human society--the closest we can get is a form of dumb-ocracy in which the elite pollute the minds of the unintelligent masses. This book is as much a homage to the destruction of what once was (and what could have been) as it is a warning to future generations to not trust in mankind. The events in this story are all true--some are a bit exaggerated, but they are more or less as true to life as they can be while fitting within the time length so as to not bore you, the reader, to tears. I stand by my convictions and decisions. To accept these charges and confess to my crimes would be a disservice to my fallen comrades, a dishonor to my companions, and above all a betrayal of my character. History looks back on the Salem Witch Trials, The Moscow Trials, and McCarthyism with a frown and shakes its head at the ignorance of man. Future generations shall do the same when looking upon the trials of New Washington--that is, if the future generations are even allowed to look back on history and see how great we once were. I die with but one regret: I failed to kill him when I first laid eyes on him. I shall attempt to recreate what happened those years ago with as much accuracy as possible. Death to The Overlord!

-- Freak Boy