Dear 1999 Seth,
Two days after you receive this letter, you will be falling asleep, and the ghost of a warrior will appear. He will explain that you were actually adopted, and that you are the direct descendant of ancient kings. He will offer you the sword and shield of your ancestors, claiming that the great undead overlord Zorgax has reappeared, and intends to end your bloodline for all time.
For 11 years, I have barely evaded Zorgax’s repeated attempts to hunt me down. In 2001, Zorgax will turn the entire middle school into a zombie horde. I had been peeing in a urinal and escaped through the bathroom window. In 2003, Zorgax will possess your cat’s brain and kill everyone in your family up to second cousins. In 2007, you will arrive at Wesleyan University and, amidst your academic studies, continue to fight clandestinely for your survival: never stay in one place for more than a night, and avoid all other students in order to protect them from Zorgax’s wrath.
I must be brief. Zorgax has found my building, although he does not yet know which room I’m in, since I’m hiding under my desk with a flashlight. I also set the gasoline perimeter on fire, which should buy me a few precious seconds.
When the ghost warrior offered me the magical sword and shield, I refused. I insisted that I was just a kid, and I didn’t even know what an undead overlord looked like, so denied my warrior heritage and have no hope of defeating Zorgax.
He’s here. He’s inside. I can hear his gurgle. You must accept the sword and shield. Shit, he’s almost here. Listen—the only way to slay Zorgax is to strike him in the-