Brick Apocalypse- Censored

Due to a request by The Missing Piece I have put up a censored version of my story Brick Apocalypse.

Entry 1:
Another day, another patrol, another zombie, another raider, another death, pure heck. I swear to whatever being that placed this ruin of a world on us that I am going insane in this dammed prison we like to call "Camp". My life is just a day filled with raiders bleeding into a bloody night of battling Zombies, its turning us into insane savages. None of us are eating enough or getting enough sleep, were bloody ****ing dying in this hell hole. Sometimes I start thinking that dying in this deranged lawless world is better then living in it. Denal is writing to his dead wife again, million is just staring into the ****ed sky, Dutch is cuddling his hammer like a ****ing child and Hazard. Hazard seems to be the most sane of us all, but he isn't. He tinkers with that radio all day hoping it will hope, who the hell will we call if it does! "Hey God, I'm not sure if you have noticed but we seem to be living in heck. I'm not sure if the one over by you is freezing over and migrated here but help sure is appreciated!" We are all just following our own **** lies to the grave, thinking theirs some safe haven or some civilization. Sorry to disappoint you but there isn't, if were lucky we'll die young and not have to live in a world were all we have to look forward to is the moaning of the undead. We,we, are going to die swimming in our blood chocking on the lies we tell ourselves.

The grim truth is just waiting to turn its ugly head and stare us right in the eye.

Entry 2:

Fix this, do that, kill it, shoot it, watch it, thats all I ****ing hear these day along with the sound of gun fire and the cries of the dead or dying. We aren't a society, we don't have anything to live for but more blood on our hands and dead at our backs. I'm not sure how much longer I can take this, living in the dirt and mud scrabbling out to the sun but running from the dark. There is no end to the waves and waves be it zombies, raiders, or refugees. Thats all the makes up this disgusting existence, waves of whatever the heck is left in this heck hole we like to call earth. We are all going insane, its undeniable. The only person who is ****ing unchanged is storm, but he was deranged in the first place! One of these days someone is going to pull the trigger while they watch there own blood fall around them. Its days like these I wonder if that someone is me.

Entry 3:
It was a near miss today, to ****ing close. Someone finally snapped, but instead of pulling a gun to there head they pulled it on someone else. I should have seen this ****ing coming. Million pulled a gun to Hazards head, we can't figure out what set him off he just did it. Hazard was as always tinkering with the ****ed radio of his, million was staring up in the sky, Dutch, Storm, and Missing were on patrol for raiders. Then something clicked in that empty mine of his and he pulled out his side arm and aimed it at Hazard. He was spouting some incomprehensible bull **** about looking for survivors and some ****ing savior. If it was my decision I would have shot him then and there, we don't need someone holding us back. I managed to wrench the gun away before he fired of a shot, we have him locked up in a old warehouse in the center of our camp. What stops from another one of us snapping like that, ****ing nothing that's whats stopping us. We don't trust each other, and we don't trust are fucking self's to pull the trigger. Its not a question of if, its a question of when and were.

Entry 4:
He is dead, he is ****ing dead. All it took was a single bullet like always, one bullet to change a persons life forever may it be the victim or the witnesses. I've seen death before, plenty of it, I was in the war for ****s sake. But this, this was different. In war you expect death, you face it every day dreading it as you turn every god dammed corner. After we've made it through all this, the war, the zombies, the raiders, the mayhem all it took was one single bullet to end that. One ****ing bullet.

Entry 5:
Denals funeral was today, since we were weren't able to cover the body we just made a head stone. Some of us just can't come to terms with it, they have to realize he is ****ing dead and nothing we can do will bring him back. Nothing at ****ing all, no magical potion, or fucking majestic words will bring him back. My only regret was not being able to get the body, we fled like the fucking cowards we are. We are ****ing pathetic, but he will be remembered for as long as any of us take a breath.

Entry 6:
Dutch was shot, nothing mortal but enough to make him completely useless. The fool, it was easy enough to spot the glint of the scope but we couldn't warn him or we would have given away our positions. It didn't help he was popping out of cover way to often either. One of these days his ****ing stupidity will get himself killed or one of us killed, I hate to call him "Leader". To be honest I'm not sure he'll live even if he wasn't shot in any vital areas. What with modern medicine being so few now adays it is easy to get a simply scratch infected and be dead within the week. Perhaps our group would be better off with him gone...

Entry: 7
A throbbing,a dull throb. What the hell? Were the **** am I? I started to pull myself up but a searing pain went through my chest, I slumped back down in defeat. God ****it that hurts. I slowly turned my head to take in my surroundings. A rugged wall faced me, pitted with bullet holes and a long chain extended on the top. This looks like base. but it wasn't, above the chain was another wall, a smooth man made stone, as sub way? Who the heck builds a wall in a ****ing sub way? Once again I attempted to pull myself, ignoring the pain I brought my head level to the wall, to see pure ****ing chaos. Blood was splattered every were, bodies littered the floor like the devil himself was spinning around taking a ****.


What in the **** happened here. I thought. Who brought me here, in fact were the **** is here? I've got to find a weapon of some kind. I grabbed a pit in the wall to try to stand up, trying to think of everything but the pain. It was to much, I slowly fell down and everything turned black.

Entry 8:
(Are you kidding me Darman, how the **** can you tell- Just give me the **** microphone!)
Damn, Dutch can be annoying as ****. Anyway by the time we got away from the raiders we were lost as ****. "Dutch its obvious were lost, just admit it." I said. Them came Dutch's snide reply. "Alright, Alright were ****ing lost. Happy now jackass?" I had a strong urge to punch Dutch, what can I say though? We were both stressed, ****ed, and depressed.Then I noticed something, a metal object that glinted in the sunlight was perched on a rock.

"Dutch, look over there." I pointed to it.

Dutch started to step towards it, what a moron I thought. "Dutch, step away from that. It could be a ****ing mine!" He didn't reply, but I did noticed that he slowed down a bit was it to be more cautious or the dark green overgrowth crowding around the rock. "Dutch.." I warned. He continued with no heed to my warnings, his hand reached out to grab the object. I can't say I wasn't tempted to shoot him right there, in case it was a trap of some sort. (What, you wanted to shoot me? Maybe Dutch now let me continue the ****ing recording") OK, well surprisingly he grabbed the object and nothing happened, but boy did that not last long. A hand seemingly sprouted out of the underbrush snatching Dutchs leg and dragging him into the ground. I couldn't help him, if I shot at the underbrush I had a chance to hit him. I tried to move towards him but he was gone before I could reach him. Somehow Dutch disappeared without a trace, gone.


Entry 9:
(Come'on Dar, my turn to tell the story).
So here we are, Dutch missing, Denal dead, overall not the best day to be me. At the time I was, how do I put it? Unstable? Our leader is dead and our second in command is dead, leader wise we were ****ed. With Hazard literally at his death bed we didn't know what the heck to do, Dutch coordinated all the scouting efforts and did the jobs we refused or didn't want to do. We were fucking chicken without its head with Dutch gone. None of us knew what in the **** to do. (I knew wh- shut the heck up Darman.) We had plans, but of course I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. Darmans voice seemingly sprouted out of the darkness consuming our base. "Wacky!"
"Darman!" I cried out "Did you find anything of use, food? Wait, weres Dutch, Denal." When I saw the look on his face I knew, its amazing what horror a single expression can do to a person. I just stood there, My brain wasn't able to process the truth, Denal and Dutch were dead. Gone. Never to walk the earth. I just collapsed on the ground in disbelief, there was no way they were dead. No way.

Entry 10:

(Ok Wacky, you've told your part of the story gimmie the Mic)
It seemed like a split second after I was noticed by wacky he fainted, just a dead wait on the ground. At the time I was thinking Are you ****ing me, I fucking walked through miles of forest fought god**** tons of raiders just to drag wackys body back to base! As I was walking toward wacky I noticed him moving a bit, "Wacky?" He stirred a bit more. "Wacky! For **** sake get you god damn self off the ground!" That got him up. He stared at me for a second, and said "They aren't dead Dar, are they?"
"I don't know wacky" I replied
"What? How the **** not, you didn't ****ing abandon them in a fight did you?" He said angerly.
Would he actually think I would do that? I guess so. "No, I would never ****ing do that and you ought to know. Denal is dead, he was shot by a raider and we couldn't recover his body, I'm sorry."
Wacky gulped a bit, "Dutch?" Came his almost child like small voice.
""Like I said before I don't know, he was dragged off by god knows what and he just disappeared. I don't know were the heck he is or were he could be" Then a voice seemingly came out of no were. "Wacky! Sorry man, we were suppose to switch guard duty hours ago I for- Darman?" It was custom. I sighed in my head, I'm not a ****ing story teller for Christs sake. "I'll tell you back at base, Custom do you think you could pull a couple people off patrol I have something to tell you all" I said.
"Uh, yeah" he said apparently oblivious to the lack of Dutchs and Denals presence. "We've just got Alpha and TMP out."
"Get them back here, were going to have to be without patrols for a bit"
"That important 'eh?" Then it hit him, he looked around a bit almost comedicly. "Uh, Darman. Were is Dutch, Denal?"
In response I simply said "I'll tell you at base, now go get TMP and Alpha" and I walked away with wacky in tow as Custom stood there watching.

I now regret cursing so much, this took forever to censor. Hope you like it TMP.

Entry 11!:

Since you guys are awesome and added even more additions I felt obligated to add my own as well.

I couldn't bring myself to do it, I couldn't tell Anne was dead. They were united only 4 ****ing hours ago and now he is gone, dead. What the **** is wrong with this world! I grabbed the nearest object, a food can, and smashed it into the ground scrambling the contents along the rough paved ground of our camp. I looked around for something else to smash, no calm down, I just started to just look around take in the surroundings of our camp, anything to calm myself down. There was the wall, that hellish wall, several concrete road blockers and parking concrete slopes stacked on top of each other with a length of barbed wire on the top. The water purifier designed by Denal, denal why the fuck is he dead! I started to grab a piece of fire wood but stopped myself. The water purifier perhaps one of the few left in the world. The shed recovered from the backyard of a house were Million used to be held until he escaped. The grouping of chairs were we hold our meetings, organize patrols, sort through food and held funerals. What am I going to do about Denals funeral? We can't do it without anne but we can't do it with here, god ****it! No stop, the shooting range and armory were we put weapons and vehicles recovered from military bases. The ISleep, heh I remember when we named it that. This road used to be a small one next to a Ihop, we saw and and thought it was the perfect place to sleep, and so it was dubbed the Isleep. We have beds lining the walls recovered from various places. The food and water storage, were we keep all our commodities like sheets, food, fire wood, ect. Then of course we have the fire pit, a hole created by god knows what were we make our fires and cook our food. This place has so much character, so many memory's...I grabbed a chair fully calmed down and just sat there in remembrance of the dead.

Brick Apocalypse - The Map!
This is a map of Base Camp in the story of Brick Apocalypse, I intend to add a couple more things such as a sort of basket ball court which is make shift of course, perhaps a couple other places so suggestions are welcome.

Entry 12:
I heard the shouts before I heard the gun shots. I bolted up quickly throwing on my armor and grabbing my shot gun along with a couple of shells. I noticed no one else was in the Isleep, something was wrong, dreadfully wrong. I stood along the hallway to the door of our Camp, I stretched out my boot slowly making the door creak open. As I slowly edged my way along the wall I heard more gun shots, increasing my pace I finally after what seemed like ages reached the edge of the door. I slowly peaked out to see chaos. A massive group of raiders were firing there guns into the air as if to get the attention of someone else. Then I noticed the others, they were huddled in a group guns raised at the threat, but not a shot was fired. What the heck were they doing! Then I noticed something, the raiders, they had a person in between them someone dressed in ragged clothes and seemed to have a- Dutch! They had Dutch! Carefully I put away my shot gun and pulled out my sniper rifle. I checked my sights and aimed at the Raiders, just in case the negotiations (Which I assume thats what they were) were finished or ruined. We can't ****ing blow this, not with Dutch at stake, should I take a shot prematurely? What if I missed, or hit Dutch. And why didn't they wake me? Pushing all those thoughts, worries, and doubts aside instead of taking a shot I focused on the conversation. I noticed a lean and muscular raider was doing all the talking. "We know he belongs to this camp don't deny it!" Wait, how did they get the location of the camp? Did Dutch reveal it, how long was he being ****ing tortured? The poor *******. "We want that purifier of yours for him! We know you have one!" Then I saw Wacky stepping up to the plate, looking ready to talk. I was surprised, genuinely surprised. He spoke with confidence and with authority behind his voice. He was actually intimidating raiders. "Do you really think we have a purifier? We do not, people will say anything while under torture anything to make the pain stop you should know that.". The raider spoke again. "We know you have it! Don't deny it or you might not want you buddy here back so badly!"
Then wacky spoke again. "How can we give what we do not have?"
The raider made a signal and the raiders holding dutch tugged him up to a standing position and raised a gun to his head. "You give us the **** purifier or your buddy dies." Raising my rifle I looked down the sights taking in note the wind speeds and meters away I took in a breath and fired in quick succession. The two raiders were down in seconds, then all hell broke loose. The raiders fired shots at the group, and we fired back. Bodys fell to the ground and smoke flew around from the running of feet. Were was Dutch, then I noticed him his hands behind his back but he was running dashing towards me. Then he fell, slammed aside by a raider. The raider was dead in seconds, his head pierced by a sniper bullet. I brought back the bolt ready for a second shot when I felt me being tugged back by strong arms. A raider, he must have come through the back. I dropped to the ground lending go of my sniper rifle and kicking the raider in the stomach sending him sprawling to the floor. I grabbed by shot gun and aimed at him but the raider brought up a leg and kicked it out of my hand and jumped of the ground slamming me into the floor and brought a combat knife to my throat. I was dead I knew it, after so many ****ing years of surviving it was for nothing. I was dead. A shot rang out and the raider slumped down on me, pushing the body aside I looked to the side of me to see Denal. Holding my shot gun in his hand. I was to die another day, and so it seems Denal as well.

Triple posting! O_O

Yes, but if you haven't noticed its never really applied and the issue has never been raised in either of my little story threads.

Your people like to curse.