[ WP ] You live in a reality where human kind hibernates for the second half of the year . You are one of very few humans who do not hibernate .

I shivered in the cold of the hibernation chamber, surrounded by the coffin-like shapes of cryo-pods. The jacket I wore was too thin, the bag I was carrying was heavy, and I had n't seen another human being in days... And yet, if there was one thing that I hated about the Long Dark, it was that I had to look after the idiots who could attain it. 
 
 I was one of the `` gifted'' few who could n't. We were afflicted with a disease known as macroinsomnia, which kept us from lapsing into the hibernation cycles that kept most people comatose for half of every year. Scientists had no idea what caused it, and much grant money had been uselessly pumped into finding out why we just could n't sleep. Some thought we were cursed, while others said it was a genetic defect. I could n't possibly care less about the reason, I just wanted to stop having to work this stupid job. 
 
 I stomped past more suspension chambers, and thought grumpily to myself some more. The real problem with being a macroinsomniac was that the only job available to you at any time was a Sleep Custodian. Yep. Getting do nothing but prowl the hallways looking haggard while an automated computer system takes care of the snoring bastards surrounding you. Even the other macros manage to make the job worse- they're all either annoyingly spiritual or supremely depressing. 
 
 Good thing I was n't going to keep this job for much longer. 
 
 I pulled a silenced handgun from an inner pocket of my coat, thumbed the safety off, set down my bag, and slowly opened the steel door in front of me. The three Custodians inside took no notice; they were all too engrossed in their instruments to care. I pulled the trigger once, once again, and another time, and they slid off the control panel, leaving red smears on the screens. I pushed one off of the panel I needed to access, and punched in a four-digit code. 
 
 A *fwish* accompanied a green flashing'access granted' notice, and an inlet in a nearby pipe opened up. I dragged my bag over to it and unzipped it. Inside was a black box edged with dark metal. It was designed to be unopenable in the wrong hands, ensuring that its rather sensitive cargo could not be confiscated. I flicked open the locks and heaved out the large canister of liquid toxin. Straining with effort, I plugged the canister in, dumping its contents into the fluid transport system that pumped life-giving water into the sleepers outside the control room. 
 
 In a few minutes, the sleepers woke to blood in their pods and a floundering sense of being slowly drowned. Fists beat futilely on the four-inch glass of their containers and muffles screams reverberated throughout the halls. I smiled. My time as a Custodian was finally over.
