Micah+Estratton

Full Name: Micah Estratton

From: Philadelphia, PA Gender: Male (though has a deliberately gender neutral name). Ethnicity: White Traits (Appearance): Tall and stocky, strong, brown hair with tints of grey. Reason for being in the amusement park: He is a crane operator working on the amusement park (could either be construction if the amusement park is new, or demolition if the park is abandoned.) Brief History: 46 years old. Has has a degree in mechanical engineering from Drexel University. Has been working on construction sites since age 16. Spent ten years on the Board of Directors of the Association of Crane and Rigging Professionals and b een a member of the International Union of Operating Engineers for over 25 years. Was the buisness manager of Local 542 for four years. Anything else (optional): Recieved two lifetime service awards from Local 542 and from the Association of Wire Rope Fabricators, mother created Estratton Lift System (ESL). And really, really likes the crane Fighting Phil.

=DAY ONE= I arrived at the amusement park early in the morning, it was not yet fully light out. Most of the rollercoasters were up already, but one of the biggest ones, called Project Z, required a larger crane to construct. The crane they were using, Big Tony, was too small to lift some parts, so they had to bring Fighting Phil in, and Fighting Phil is my crane. I've used it almost exclusively for eighteen years. I came to the amusement park, expecting the crane to be assemballed already, as it was scheduled to be completed last night, and then begin the lifting. However, when I got there, I found that most of the crane was still in boxes. That's when I started to worry. "Hey, Tommy" I called out. "What's the deal? Shouldn't the crane be ready by now?" Silence. "Tommy?" I said, a knot forming in my stomach. "Kate?" Still no reply. "Hello?" Nobody was here. I walked carefully, trying not to make much sound with two hundred pound coming down in the form of steel-toed boots. Something caught my eye. A fire-axe was left out on the ground. It was required by law to have them on constuction sites, to hack through debris to get somebody out if things went wrong. Slowly I crept over to it. I picked it up and scanned around me. My heart started to pound. I heard a clunk, and looked over to see a figure shifting in the twilight. There is no way I, a slightly overweight man in his late forties, could outrun whoever this assailant is, but I am strong, and armed with a fire-axe, so my best chance was to stand and fight. I crouched beneath the boxes, and knocked a few nails off the top of a box, they bounced around and made a good bit of noise. I shifted forwards and lay in wait, to ambush my attacker....

=DAY TWO= I woke up in a col sweat. The memories of yesterday's fight fresh in my mind. //The footsteps came closer and closer.... he came out from behind the crate.... I kicked him in the shins with heavy boots.... he swung a knife.... I blocked with the fire-axe.... he grabbed the hilt of the axe.... he kicked me in the groin....// I grinned. A construction worker who doesn't wear a cup, doesn't have children. My seemingly impossible recovery from the blow gave me the upper hand. //I twisted the fire-axe free from his grasp.... he slashed my arm with the knife.... I swung the fire-axe at him.... he backed away and disappeared back into the shadows.... I ran the opposite direction....// At that point I had not grasped the severity of the situation. I did not understand that this whole thing was a trap. I only assumed there was some mad killer with a knife. Look at that, now I'm sticking "only" before some mad killer with a knife. That's loss of innocence for you. Now I'm walking around a park full of people, most of them, not out of collage yet. I look around for somebody who I can tell about what happened. No park employee in sight. I take out my cell phone. No reception. That's when it hits. That's when I figure out, everything here is set. The conditions are ripe for slaughter. And the worst thing is, I'm the only thing that can stop it. Everyone else, and everything else here has been deliberately placed by a calculating killer. All other excessories have been neutralized. Except for me. I survived my attack. And it all rests on me. Me and my fire-axe.

=DAY 3=

"Hey you!" came a voice from behind me. I turned around. An middle-aged, slightly overweight italian man was calling for me. "You work at the park?" he asked.
"I guess so" I replied. "Do ya know how to leave this place? I can't find anybody else workin' here. 'cept for a game operator, but he didn't know nuttin" the guy said. "I was wondering that myself" I said, looking around. I wanted to make the guy concered, but not scare him to death. "With no phone service or a way out... it's like this is a freakin' slaughter house. They are cutting us off from the outside world so they kill us. It's the government, man, their crazy" the man said. "What's your name?" I asked. He said it so seriously, I wondered if I could tell him the truth. "Salvatore, but you can call me Sal" he said. "I'm Micah Estratton" I said. "You're right. I was nearly killed by a killer with a knife" I whispered. Sal grinned broadly. "I knew it!" Sal said. "So what do we do?" "That could be tricky" I said. I raised my fire axe. "We're going to have to be careful. But it's nice to have a friend. Two will survive better than one." "How about three?" came a voice. I admit, he made my jump. A man was walking towards us, looked early twenties with scuffy brown hair. "I'm Charlie Foster". "Micah Estratton" I said, "and this is Sal". "Salvatore Ricci" Sal said, grinning. "It'sa gov'ment conspiracy!" He seemed geniunely excited to be part of one. I shrugged to Charlie.

"Sorry for overhearing, but you were attacked by a man with a knife?" Charlie asked.
"That's right. We need to figure out a way out of here. I think I have an idea though" I said.


 * werd. let's do this. sal **

ok the fact that a middle aged man is stalking about an amusement park with a fricken fire axe just kills me i cant even #gold
=DAY 4=

"How exactly will this help us?" Charlie asked nervously. I was beginning to doubt my plan too. Fear started to grip my guts. We were in the construction site of the roller coaster "Project Z", and it was creepy as anything under scaffolding. Daylight failed to penetrate and odd structures and crates made perfect hiding spots. "If we can get some tools from the construction site, then we might be able to break through the fence around this place. Then we'd be free" I said. As soon as I started wondering where Sal had gone off too, he came out from inside the skeleton of the roller coaster. "Wuldja look at this! I bet 'll be a sweet 'coaster when it's done!" Sal exclaimed. It scared the crap out of me. I think it gave Charlie a shock too, but he started laughing. I had to crouch down to stop my whole body shaking. At my age, I'm lucky I didn't get a heart attack. After that I vowed never to eat McDonalds again. Sal started talking about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and how they were some government conspiracy in a loud voice. Charlie kept telling him to keep his voice down looking around nervously. I started searching for some useful tools. I could have sworn a pair of wire cutters were left out somewhere... then something caught my attention. A large crate was sitting out, the padlock on it had been cut and lay next to it on the floor. There was a birthday-looking card in front of the crate. I opened it and it read: //For Micah Estratton, // //Ah, Mickey, Mickey Mickey! You were calling for your friends earlier. So here they are. Tommy and Kate, nicely packaged in a box for you. Happy now? Ha ha ha! // I opened the box. I shut my eyes. Charlie and Sal ran over to me. Charlie shut the box, and Sal helped me up. "Let's get out of here" Charlie said. I nodded. I felt like I would be sick.

=DAY 5=

Yesterday was quite a shock. I was still recovering from that. It wasn't just seeing my friends dead, killed in such a horrible way.... what scared me the most was he knew me. The killer predicted where I would go, moved the wire cutters and left the note for me. It was depressing. It seemed there was nothing I could do to outsmart him. The three of us actually took turns keeping watch last night, and we didn't get much rest.

Rather early in the morning, the attack came. It was not yet fully light. Sal must have fallen asleep during his watch. I got the feeling like he didn't take the whole thing that seriously. The killer snuck up towards him. By chance I was awake when it happened, and I turned on my side in time to see him approach. I yelled out, and Sal returned to consciousness. The killer lunged towards him and nearly got him with the knife. I ran at him with the fire axe and Charlie came at him too. He blocked the axe with the knife and punched me hard in the stomach. I reeled back. Charlie tried to hit the killer, but he was too fast. I recovered and waved the fire axe menacingly. The killer backed away.

"There's my Michelangelo" Sal said grinning.

"You nearly got yourself killed, there. You can't fall asleep durring your watch. Another slip up like that could be it for you" I told him. I turned to Charlie "that was brave, coming at him unarmed. For future references, we need to get you two some makeshift weapons."

=DAY 6=

I woke to silence. The first thing I noticed was it was unusually bright outside. The sun was higher in the sky than it should have been. By my reckoning it must have been ten in the morning. The person with the last watch was supposed to wake everyone up. I groaned and turned over. "Sal, if you fell asleep again last night...." I stopped in the middle of my sentence. He lay on the ground motionless, his eyes wide, and his neck had been throttled. I turned away, my first reaction was anger towards for falling asleep again, but then I remembered he paid his price. Then I wondered where Charlie was. That's when I say the card on the ground. My second note.

//Outwitted at your own crane // //By a man who's not even sane // //<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Beaten in the dead of night // //<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Without putting up a fight //

//<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">A man hanging with his girlfriend // //<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Will this gory game ever end? // //<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Charlie found his own way out // //<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The only way, without a doubt //

//<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">P.S. You're not doing so well, Mikey, so I gave you a second chance. It wouldn't be fun to stab you in the night. I expect better from you later. // //<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Yours sincerely, // //<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The Man with the Knife (and your fire axe too) // //<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">You're a bad place, what ya gonna do? //

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I looked around me and discovered to my horror, my fire axe was gone. I swore. I was lost my allies, I was unarmed and being kept alive by the whims of a madman. I needed a plan. I needed a friend. And I needed them quickly. Just as I thought that, I heard a voice behind me. <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Hey! Big guy!" came the voice behind me. It had a thick British accent tainted with worry. "Are you seeing some of the stuff going on here?" <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Yeah" I said. "We need to stick together to Survive".

=DAY 7= <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The Graviton cart with Spencer Wright in it started moving up. His foot was caught in the door, and the bar closed hard over his chest. He was trapped, and with the "**//<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">cling cling cling cling //**" roller coasters make, he was being carried closer and closer to the dark, interior of the ride. I acted quickly, and saved Spencer Wright from it. I'm afraid that the cost was high though. I kicked into gear and ran after the cart. Spencer was calling for me to do something, his options were limited, being in the position he was. So were mine, now that I think of it. I jammed my steel toed boots into the gears of the machine. Searing pain shot through my foot, and I gasped. With a loud "**<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">clunk **" the Graviton cart stopped moving up. That was the good news. The bad news was it started moving down instead. And I was directly beneath it, with my boot trapped.

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I turned and pressed my right foot against the cart as it came down on me, but it was no use. The cart weight almost a thousand pounds. Just before the my whole left leg was crushed, my left foot popped out of the gears. I fell on top of the track and slid down it just in front of the cart until the cart slammed into the starting place, crushing me against the metal. When the cart had stopped, the bar and door automatically opened. He stood shocked open seeing me, blood was coming out where metal corners had wedged themselves. It was pretty bad. Together we pushed as hard as we could and managed to move the cart up enough for me to slip out.

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Are you alright?" he asked. <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"What does it look like?" I replied. Sarcasm had not left my body, unlike a bit too much of my blood. <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"I'm sure you'll be fine... we just need to stop the bleeding" he said nervously. He looked around for a makeshift bandage. He was pretty shaken up. I would be panicking too if I wasn't chalked full of adrenaline, a natural pain killer. <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"I'm not going to be fine" I said, starting to taste blood welling in my mouth. He started to tear parts strips of his shirt to tie around my wounds. <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.5;">"You saved my life..." he said. "I- I don’t know how to thank you". <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Don't thank me" I said, gasping between each word. "Promise me. If you get out, tell my wife... tell her I love her. I forgot to include her in my 'brief history', but I love her." <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"You’re not going to die not" Spencer said, shakily. "Not to save me. Not if I can help." He started to wrap bandages around me. But it was too little, too late. I was already losing consciousness, drifting to sleep. A sleep I feared I would not wake up from. <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"You can help" I said, reassuring. "You can tell my wife. She lives in Philadelphia, on 127 Rose Street... Mrs. Clara Estratton" I began coughing up blood. Something about the name disturbed Spencer, like it brought this a little closer to home for him. Spencer helped roll me on my side to let the blood out of my mouth. <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Is there anything else?" Spencer asked. "Anything I can do for you?" <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"My son... little Noah... no more than ten years old... make sure he gets taken care of..." I said. "Tell him..." tears came to my eyes, and they started to flow "tell him his dad will never go away again... not for construction work... or meetings... and his dad will always be with him. Always..." <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"You're going to see him again, alright? Your going to pull through this" Spencer said. The world started to move slowly, and the light began to fade.

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I hoped he was right. I desperately hoped so. But as I drifted off to sleep, it became clear only time would tell whether or not I would wake up alive on **<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">DAY 8 **...

**DAY 8** <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I woke up alive. It came a little bit as a suprise to me. My whole body hurt. It felt almost like... like I had been crushed by an roller coaster cart. I was extremely dehydrated, and my throat was as dry as sandpaper. Fortunately the bleeding had stopped, leaving me covered in dry blood and scaps for bandages. I had very nearly died yesterday, and I had a feeling like I wouldn't last this one out. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Moments later, I was suprised again. This one was a much less pleasant suprise. Standing directly above me, was the killer. I tried to crawl away, but it was far too slow and quickly drained me. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Calm down, Mikey" the killer said in a sing-song voice, "I just wannna talk to you." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Get... away from me" I rasped. The killer crotched down next to me. He drew out my fire axe and started waving it infront of me. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Don't hurt him!" came a voice. A voice with a British accent. Spencer Wright. I smiled. He was here to return the favor. I was in for a third suprise, the largest and least pleasant of them all. "See what I have to deal with now?" the killer said. "You save my son, now he wants me to keep you alive. You're nothing but trouble." "What?" I gasped. My voice was strained and cracked. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Get him some water" Spencer said, firmly. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Not part of our deal" the killer said, and then turned to me. "I must admit, you caught me off guard. I thought you would go on the coaster, see? That trap was for you. However, I did underestimate your strenght and courage. You saved my son, and for that I am grateful." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"You have a strange way of showing gratitute" I said, barely louder than a whisper. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">"Dad! Get him a glass of water. He's dying of thirst!" Spencer demanded. "I do believe that's the whole point" the killer said. He looked back to me. "I'm not going to give you water... but I will give you this." He handed me my fire axe. "You can die a warrior's death. Lying peacfully with a weapon across your chest." "Mr. Wright! You promised you wouldn't kill him! You can't let him die" Spencer said, furious. "No 'dad'? Trying to distance yourself from me? You can't run away from who you are, Spency!" the killer said. "Give him food and water, please! You promised" Spencer said, fighting to repay a debt. To set things // Wright //. "I promised not to kill him. I'm allowed to let him die" the killer said. He turned back towards me. "But I will make a deal. How did you do it, eh? Shut down the coaster? My son here didn't get a good enough look, so he doesn't know either. How? Tell me that and I'll give you food, water and throw in some medical care too." I whispered something, too soft to here. The killer leaned in close. "What was that, Mikey? What did ya say?" I grinned broadly. He got a suprise. I swung the fire axe with all my remaining strenght at his skull. He was caught unaware, but my strenght was too little to strike a fatal blow. It left a gash but nothing more. Blood ran down the killer's face. He was furious. Spencer jumped forwards but didn't arrive in time. "Stop it! You promised!" Spencer yelled. The killer stabbed my chest. "DAD! Stop!" Spencer yelled. The killer stabbed again. Spencer pulled him back. The blood had wet the killer's hair and stained his blue hoodie. Spencer leaned in close to me. "He betrayed me! Your own father!" the killer screamed. "How can you respect him for that?" I openen my mouth, for the last time. "Noah..." I said. The world began to darken. Spencer nodded, and slowly rose. I felt like I was falling backwards. Spencer answered his father's questions. "I respect him because he nearly died trying to save me. I don't even know you" Spencer said. The killer's anger was once again ingited. Spencer continued. "And I know how he beat your trap, too. He was a human, you're a monster." That was the last I remember, before losing conciousness and drifting into sleep. A sleep I would not likely wake from. For real this time. Though I wouldn't complain if I did...