(Previous) 3 of 3 I don't have much time.   After I had been kept here for a while, I figured out what I had to do. I tried to scare them, at first: I presented my race as the noblest, strongest beings that ever lived, rising to meet every challenge tirelessly, unstoppably, an able opponent under any circumstances. I dreamed empires that never were, a brotherhood of man, an endless string of happy endings.   It was useless. I realized that even as I closed off my mind, ignoring essential parts of my makeup, I was just helping them to get inside. So I changed tactics.   I sank into despair and filth, exposing the basest level of the human mind. I tried to shake them up, to stun and confuse and frighten them. My stories then were like a dose of castor oil for their souls, an attempt to make them vomit me up.   But I couldn't keep this up for very long. The dross I spewed began to form patterns of a different kind, and I could feel their stranglehold on me tightening again. What was more, my own mind fought me. When I let my guard down, it started to rise above the ugliness I willed on them, aspiring to nobility. No extreme could protect me.   Next I tried confusion: random patterns of words, bizarre images, descriptions of smells and sounds, all of it stream-of-conciousness. But they are clever: these were vital clues for them. No matter how fast I changed gears, they figured me out.   Then came a period of trying to outsmart them. I thought I could fool them into drawing the wrong conclusions from what I wrote. I'm sure they saw through such obfuscation.   I won't give up. If nothing else, I'll show them that humans are stubborn shits. --orry. I don't know if I'll ever get out of here. If I see even the slightest chance, I'll make a break for it. And I won't stop plotting and planning. I'll make their lives as hard as they've made mine. --I-- --ow they don't even want me to refer to myself. They want me to be faceless. --'m still here, you bastards! You want to kill me? Go ahead! Oh God, I'm going to die here.   But I'm not going to let them take anyone else. I'm going to save humanity.   It's my last ditch effort you see. Just tell them the truth. Tell my stories as they come to me. Make them empathize. Then maybe they'll have mercy on us. Or decide we're too tough to crack after all.   Then maybe they'll let me go.   But even if they don't, I'll have my revenge.   I was here. I know that, just as I know that every word I write is being emblazoned on their minds forever. What they take they must keep.   They'll remember.   And death will not silence me.