[Merskelly Metalien]

The first thing I should mention is that I was happy. Before you all intervened and robbed me of my belonging home, I was happy. Now that you place me in this awful and tumultuous situation, I cannot ever go back to those happy times now. Those memories which shaped my heart and held up a bastion for my entire state of purpose, have turned now to sickening green ashes, leaving my head and heart crumbling and sick. Had you not come for me, and had I stood there in peace left undisturbed, I would have lived the rest of my life in happiness with my family. I would not be thinking of the past in such regret or terror as I do now. In the same manner I would excoriate an infection from the flesh, I wish I could excoriate your undeniably fiendish rescue of me, and the contradicting impressions you have sought fit to take from my arrival.
I am no different than you; All of you. I was a young man, a son, a husband and a father. I was full of optimism, and vigor and desires like anyone else at the age of 17. I laughed and cried and danced, dreamt and provided and made friendly with everyone and anyone. There was no one in the town of Leerwood that thought ill of me when they saw my face or heard me greet them. I grew to become respected, cherished, and very well liked, like my father and grandfather before me. Which is more than I can say for many other folks that have achieved anything in their lifetimes, especially in large bustling metropolises, the likes of which I am currently surrounded by. In the city, you could be of no more concern than a rat in a hole in the wall, or a butterfly which will soon die after sunset. In Leerwood, if you were polite and exceptionally friendly, you were of as much concern to any resident living there as you would be their own neighbors.
It was spring, when I was born, to my loving and very hardworking parents. They provided and sacrificed for my health and happiness, taught me lessons and much wisdom for my age, and took care of their children as if they had no other more important task on earth. I grew to become a well respected and humble school teacher at Leerwood, much to the delight of my parents and grandparents. I made them proud. That’s all anyone with a loving family can ever hope to do, is to make them proud.
Like any parent who loves and protects their children, my mother and father took time to teach me the etiquettes and laws of society. Giving thanks and welcoming others, as well as giving thanks and welcome to our family. Our ancestors.
I don’t think I can speak any further about the events that transpired. I suspect, like the last officer that came in to question me, you might simply flee the room the same as you would flee a coming cyclone. No, I’ll not recount the events that led up to this unfortuitous interrogation. Instead, like the good, wholesome, warm spirited neighbor I have always been, I will try to explain why you mustn’t do what all of you are about to do.
Let me ask you this…
Do you wish to have met your great grandfather? To have seen him walk the same earth as you? Family that has passed on, family you miss so dearly...would that you could, would you have liked to see them alive and happy again? I have no doubt everyone in this facility, urban-dwelling or no, share similar wishes. Friends, aunts, sons and daughters. Those dear to us that no longer breathe. They are alive in our hearts, so it is said, yet in our hearts they stay.
Not in Leerwood. Not in my hometown, where the bliss of seeing family at any time was made real. In the old days at least…

In the old days, my family and I went every Sunday to the hill for church, and we made our offerings to our ancestors. We Shalpsons have lived in Leerwood since before America was its own country. For generations our family was a part of Leerwood’s history, as no doubt all the other families were a part of Leerwood. The Fishers, the Quintleys, the Watersons...all of them. I knew their names, and their families like I knew my own. I watched their children grow up, and have children of their own, just as I attended their family’s funeral ceremonies, they attended my family's in return. And in Leerwood, no funeral was grey and disheartening, not one! Not like the funerals of men and women and children in Luben, which were so dull and full of sadness.
When the Rolan boy was buried there, I attended his funeral with his family. Robert Rolan; Regan's only son. His father, Regan Rolan, was my best friend growing up you see. He would have had him buried and living in Leerwood, were it not for Robert’s loving wife Vanessa insisting that he be buried in Luben, close to her and her family. I argued with my dearest friend that if he truly wished to honor Robert, he would bring him home to live under the earth forever in the town he was born in. He could have saved him. He could have made Vanessa happy, but, he opted to a rather depressing choice to let his son die in the care of his wife in Luben.
It didn’t sit right with me, what Regan decided, but like any honorable man, I respected his decision. In the old days, if you were born in Leerwood, at the end of your life on earth, you were buried in Leerwood. It wasn’t law, it was tradition. As the years went on, and I grew older, tradition slowly began to change and become as weak as I had begun to feel.
What your fellow officers had witnessed in Leerwood was not as frightful as you might have heard them recount, though I fear, realizing it now, it may unsettle me to admit.

In Leerwood, in the old days, we hardly had any problems with visitors coming into town. More than likely we offered only our hospitality, even if they were not sober, not well or they were only drifters looking for a means to rest up until they got back on their own two legs and made ready to wander again. All that changed when the first great crime of a generation had occurred in our town’s history.

When I was a young boy, two men, traveling at night, were welcomed into Leerwood initially, and had a few bottles of liquor in our tavern. Everyone expected the usual from drunken strangers to bid goodnight and have their rest in our town’s inn after their hooting and rambling. But these men were not the sort of neighborly people we were so used to. They crept out into the dark of night, and climbed the hill of our town, to the church. They murdered Father Lovet after setting fire to the church I remember so fondly in my youth. Everyone came out to see it burning and several of the men my father knew had raced up the hill in response. It was a horrible sight to behold. The women wept and screamed when the church began to crumble, it’s brass bell at the top of the structure plummeting down into the blaze with a sad and ghastly clang. I remember the flames which danced so fiercely and in my heart I felt a great ripping pain, as I thought about my great grandmother, my cousins and my own beloved sister up on that hill.
When the fire was put out and the two men responsible were caught and knocked out, my father, along with a few of the other men carried them down the hill to lay them before everyone in the center of town. They were bound and shackled together, completely passed out from the fighting and alcohol. As a boy, I remember Mayor Ogunn stepping forward with our town judge, Justice Grady. I even feared them as a young man long after their passing. Their faces never changed in demeanor and their steadfast characters were truly the foundation of structure in our little town. Even in life, they were colorless and cold, like the stones surrounding the courtyard in the center of town.
It was there, they had calmed everyone and informed them of the loss of Father Lovet, the church and of several graves, all decimated and destroyed. I was horrified to learn that my great grandmother was one of them, and I can recall the painful sobbing I must have done in my mother’s arms that night. I didn’t know it then, but the adults, including Mayor Ogunn and his honor, Justice Grady, had formulated a more perfect system of authority to ensure that something like what had happened that night, never took place again.

Which brings me finally to why it is you should not trample on the sacredness that is Leerwood’s righteous laws. It’s not only you I worry for, you see. I worry for the people left back at home that I have only the greatest concern for. My family and neighbors who have always been a part of one another's lives for many years! They don’t know what you’re going to do next. They don’t know that the humble town of Leerwood is about to be fully assaulted and attacked by a whole troop of people who are, in their eyes, hostile repeats of those two men so very long ago. Yes, Leerwood is not as modern and civil as you label your own cities to be, and it is a small settlement now. Yes, we have different beliefs and different opinions, but it is still innocent I tell you! Had you left me in Leerwood, I assure you I would have gladly aided you by acting as a sort of, ambassador on your behalf. Had you let me stay, I would have been so happy. There’s no greater grief and fear I hold now than I have held for all of my life’s lowest emotions combined.
I understand what it is we do to criminals is different and rather horrifying, but is it really so much more grotesque from what justice grants here? Is it truly more monstrous as your nooses and your electricity lined chairs? Punishment for crimes is never pretty, yet it is as old and as righteous as mankind itself. That much is true. But hanging a criminal is not natural. Bringing upon the wrath of lightning on a criminal to execute them is not natural. Firing cold, metal bullets into the body of a criminal, is not natural. Those who deserve the mighty hand of justice will be judged after their death, and in Leerwood, they will never live again, because they have done wrong atop the soil of our town. Sentencing in Leerwood, comes with a clean, natural and more suitable balancing of the scales. For years, as crime continued to gently appear with a low consistency in Leerwood, I watched with my family and neighbors, the executions. I watched them and I gladly approved of what we beheld and sought to organize. It became tradition and for generations, we have had no issues with crime, which is more than what I can say for the other settlements around us. Our church was rebuilt, and a new priest was ordained by Justice Grady, becoming a part of the community and a part of Leerwood’s heart. He is a good priest, who honors tradition and cares greatly for each and every one of us when we needed, much like Father Lovet.
However, it was never the same for many of us, like in the old days when we could visit our family up there at the church. When we could offer food, drink and loving memories to our ancestors. They did not appear to us anymore at request, but rather as they liked. I lived for a long time, interacting with the Rolans and their family, and so their family, up on that hill, would visit mine from time to time. We had to accommodate, but everyone means well, so it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience. After all, they, along with dozens of other families up there, protected Leerwood with every ounce of their spirits, and we owed them everything. I miss them all. I miss my mother and father too. Though I must admit, it sounds completely mad to miss someone without life in their eyes.
I can see your eyes distancing from my words now. Well, I don’t suppose you would be aware of much tradition like I am. Your concern is with the protection of all, and yet, you and the officers are seeking to destroy innocent people for your protection, not theirs.
We are not monsters, and we never have been. The monsters are within the wicked, and Leerwood has been free of any monsters since its establishment of justice so long ago. It was built atop the ruins of a weak-spirited, less tolerant town, and so it has remained strong for two hundred years! The ground it rests on is plentiful and active, and we are self sustaining. I beg you, you mustn’t go there and tear asunder what was made so sturdy and recognized for so long, as a peaceful place of welcome! You will be the monsters, and as monsters they will bring you to justice just as they had brought the previous officers to justice when they wrongfully began to lay the town to waste during a routine execution! On Leerwood’s new, strong-founded hill, the church and the graves it looks after remain active. The corpses of our families, the generations before us, are the authority there and when the living intrude to disrespect and disturb the dead and their families, justice will come to them on swift wings. And yet I assure you, if you are not hostile to the residents and stop your advance, everything will be resolved. If you let me return, perhaps I can change things for the better and find a way to compromise by speaking with the mayor. He is still in charge after all.
But in his eyes, you may be nothing but criminals looking to start violence and trouble, unless you resolve to remember your mercy and accept his pardon. I was so happy and so ready to die before you came and took me away...I would pass on, into the church to be buried on that hill, to awaken from my rest whenever I pleased, and visit my son, my nieces, my grandchildren, the Fishers, the Quigleys and the Rolans. To watch over my hometown in peace and to protect it, by ripping apart and consuming those who want to do it harm, at the command of Leerwood’s people and the Lord on high.
It’s only just, and it’s only right, to watch over, to protect your family and your neighbors, even after your final breath is drawn. I know you would do the same, if it meant walking the earth each night after your blood has stopped warming your flesh and your spirit has not abandoned your body entirely. But that’s how life is in Leerwood; Eternal and unalienable. The rights you claim exist in this country, truly shine in Leerwood, you see. Life does not end with death. Liberty is all we ask to embody in peaceful and civil co-existence. And the pursuit of happiness, comes with the natural law of the land my hometown has been a part of for two centuries.
I cannot tell you why our families rise from their graves of rest or how they overcome death itself to protect our modest little town. Talk to Father Isles and Father Lovet. I’m sure they’d be more than obliged to explain that much to you. I’ve told you the truth, and I will swear it upon my grave waiting for me in Leerwood...you have nothing to fear, for fear of death is truly a folly, and fear of life is negated by those whom you share your life with, who indeed hold you in a most incontestable sentience. Make peace with them, and offer your condolences, prayers, and most sincere of apologies! Keep me here if you must, but should I die, I only ask you have me buried in Leerwood, where I may be happy again at last.