Darman-
Another day, another patrol, another zombie, another raider, another death, pure hell. 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 fucking 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 dammed sky, Dutch is cuddling his hammer like a fucking 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! "He God, I'm not sure if you have noticed but we seem to be living in hell. 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 damn 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.
Fix this, do that, kill it, shoot it, watch it, thats all I fucking hear these day along with the sound of gun fire and the crys 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, radiers, or refugees. Thats all the makes up this disgusting existance, waves of whatever the hell is left in this hell hole we like to call earth. We are all going insane, its undeinable. The only person who is fucking 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.
It was a near miss today, to fucking close. Someone finally snapped, but instead of pulling a gun to there head they pulled it on someone else. I should have seen this fucking 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 dammed 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 shit about looking for survivors and some frakking 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, fucking 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.
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 fucking dead and nothing we can do will bring him back. Nothing at fucking 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 fucking pathetic, but he will be remembered for as long as any of us take a breath.
Dutch was shot, nothing mortal but enough to make him completely useless. The fool, it was easier 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 fucking 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...
A throbbing,a dull throb. What the hell? Were the fuck am I? I started to pull myself up but a searing pain went through my chest, I slumped back down in defeat. God dammit 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 hell builds a wall in a fucking sub way? Once again I attempted to pull myself, ignoring the pain I brought my head level to the wall, to see pure fucking chaos. Blood was splattered every were, bodies littered the floor like the devil himself was spinning around taking a shit.
(End Italics, didn't look so well with 'em)
What in the fuck happened here. I thought. Who brought me here, in fact were the fuck 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.
(Are you kidding me Darman, how the fuck can you tell- Just give me the damn microphone!)
Damn, Dutch can be annoying as fuck. Anyway by the time we got away from the raiders we were lost as fuck. "Dutch its obvious were lost, just admit it." I said. Them came Dutch's snide reply. "Alright, Alright were fucking lost. Happy now jackass?" I had a strong urge to punch Dutch, what can I say though? We were both stressed, pissed, 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 fucking 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 fucking 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.
(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 screwed. With Hazard literally at his death bed we didn't know what the hell 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 fuck to do. (I knew wh- shut the hell 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.
(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 shiting me, I fucking walked through miles of forest fought god damn 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 fucks 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 fuck not, you didn't fucking 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 fucking 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 disappered. I don't know were the hell 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 fucking 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 watch
Mil-
"It's been days since they threw me in this dang shed. They haven't fed me yet, and I dought that they ever will. But they don't know why I pulled the gun on Hazard. They don't understand. I think I'm the only one that knows. Before I was in here, everyone looked at me like I was crazy. Darman in particular. Every once in a while, I'll try to get out, but there's no hope... I've banged on the triple-locked door and even screamed out of anger a few times... Sometimes, I wonder if they just forgot about me and left. Maybe they didn't forget...
Things aren't looking good for me. I don't think I can handle being in this tiny little hole any longer. I'll be able to survive for maybe another week if I conserve the small puddle of water I've discovered in the corner... I'm recording all this in my wrist-log. This may be my last entry..."
Dutch-
I slowly awoke but I all I could see was darkness around me. I tried moving my arms, but they were tried firmly behind my back. So I just laid there on the sandy floor thinking of what had happened. After what seemed hours I notice a dim light coming closer to where I lay. Three men appeared from the gloom two of them were caring rifles but the third had only had a side arm for protection.
"Who are you!" I exclaimed.
The one with the side arm spoke firmly.
"You should know by now Dutch"
"Raiders" I breathed under my breath.
"Correct, My name is bl*c" as the spoke he un-hosteled his side arm.
"I need answers to a couple questions Dutch"
"You'll never get me to talk!" I examined.
"You'll talk when I'm done with you" Bl*c said confidently.
After saying this bl*c raises his weapons and with great force swings the butt of the weapon directly into my face. Blood comes gushing out from my mouth. Spilling across the dirt floor. Bl*c gives orders for the other two men to begin beating me up.
This went on for four days in a row I had had nothing to drink or eat and my body was broken from the beatings. Every time the guards came to give me another round of beatings the thought of giving up increased. It was now the 6th day and today I knew in my heart I would die....
Alpha Beta-
"Take this you b******s! I screamed as I fired my AR. "Go to Hell!"
TMP was right behind me, picking off Raiders trying to sneak behind us.
"Quite a patrol isn't it Alpha?"
"It sure is, hey at least we will get some target practice in!"
"We sure will, how many do you think there are?"
"20, maybe 30." Then all of a sudden, I saw a dark figure. It fired a pistol. I could feel the bullet breeze my head.
"S***." I froze stunned I was so close to death. I heard the figure mutter something, and then run off with a body slinged over his back. The person's arms tied behind their back. TMP fired a couple bursts, and then eased up.
"Alpha, you ok?" He asked worried.
"Fine, just never been so close to dieing, I guess it was shell-shock, won't happen again sir!" I told him, suddenly remembering he was a 2 ranks higher then me.
"Come on, they know not to mess with us anymore."
"Piece, who do you think that guy had on his back?"
"Don't know, looked like a prisoner, we'll see if anyone is MIA once we get back to camp."
"Alright." We started walking back to camp with a few other survivors.
TMP-
C3 found Alpha and Piece close to camp, or rather, Piece and Alpha found C3. Anyways, they were sweaty and covered with blood, although nobody knew whose it was. When they got back to camp, Darman addressed anyone, and for once C3 did not interrupt.
"Lady and Gentleman," Darman said. "As you can see, we are short a few people."
"Yes, of course," said Alpha, applying bandages and gauze as he talked. "Denal, Mil and Dutch are missing."
"Correct."
Another day, another patrol, another zombie, another raider, another death, pure hell. 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 fucking 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 dammed sky, Dutch is cuddling his hammer like a fucking 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! "He God, I'm not sure if you have noticed but we seem to be living in hell. 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 damn 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.
Fix this, do that, kill it, shoot it, watch it, thats all I fucking hear these day along with the sound of gun fire and the crys 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, radiers, or refugees. Thats all the makes up this disgusting existance, waves of whatever the hell is left in this hell hole we like to call earth. We are all going insane, its undeinable. The only person who is fucking 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.
It was a near miss today, to fucking close. Someone finally snapped, but instead of pulling a gun to there head they pulled it on someone else. I should have seen this fucking 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 dammed 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 shit about looking for survivors and some frakking 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, fucking 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.
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 fucking dead and nothing we can do will bring him back. Nothing at fucking 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 fucking pathetic, but he will be remembered for as long as any of us take a breath.
Dutch was shot, nothing mortal but enough to make him completely useless. The fool, it was easier 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 fucking 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...
A throbbing,a dull throb. What the hell? Were the fuck am I? I started to pull myself up but a searing pain went through my chest, I slumped back down in defeat. God dammit 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 hell builds a wall in a fucking sub way? Once again I attempted to pull myself, ignoring the pain I brought my head level to the wall, to see pure fucking chaos. Blood was splattered every were, bodies littered the floor like the devil himself was spinning around taking a shit.
(End Italics, didn't look so well with 'em)
What in the fuck happened here. I thought. Who brought me here, in fact were the fuck 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.
(Are you kidding me Darman, how the fuck can you tell- Just give me the damn microphone!)
Damn, Dutch can be annoying as fuck. Anyway by the time we got away from the raiders we were lost as fuck. "Dutch its obvious were lost, just admit it." I said. Them came Dutch's snide reply. "Alright, Alright were fucking lost. Happy now jackass?" I had a strong urge to punch Dutch, what can I say though? We were both stressed, pissed, 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 fucking 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 fucking 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.
(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 screwed. With Hazard literally at his death bed we didn't know what the hell 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 fuck to do. (I knew wh- shut the hell 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.
(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 shiting me, I fucking walked through miles of forest fought god damn 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 fucks 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 fuck not, you didn't fucking 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 fucking 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 disappered. I don't know were the hell 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 fucking 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 watch
Mil-
"It's been days since they threw me in this dang shed. They haven't fed me yet, and I dought that they ever will. But they don't know why I pulled the gun on Hazard. They don't understand. I think I'm the only one that knows. Before I was in here, everyone looked at me like I was crazy. Darman in particular. Every once in a while, I'll try to get out, but there's no hope... I've banged on the triple-locked door and even screamed out of anger a few times... Sometimes, I wonder if they just forgot about me and left. Maybe they didn't forget...
Things aren't looking good for me. I don't think I can handle being in this tiny little hole any longer. I'll be able to survive for maybe another week if I conserve the small puddle of water I've discovered in the corner... I'm recording all this in my wrist-log. This may be my last entry..."
Dutch-
I slowly awoke but I all I could see was darkness around me. I tried moving my arms, but they were tried firmly behind my back. So I just laid there on the sandy floor thinking of what had happened. After what seemed hours I notice a dim light coming closer to where I lay. Three men appeared from the gloom two of them were caring rifles but the third had only had a side arm for protection.
"Who are you!" I exclaimed.
The one with the side arm spoke firmly.
"You should know by now Dutch"
"Raiders" I breathed under my breath.
"Correct, My name is bl*c" as the spoke he un-hosteled his side arm.
"I need answers to a couple questions Dutch"
"You'll never get me to talk!" I examined.
"You'll talk when I'm done with you" Bl*c said confidently.
After saying this bl*c raises his weapons and with great force swings the butt of the weapon directly into my face. Blood comes gushing out from my mouth. Spilling across the dirt floor. Bl*c gives orders for the other two men to begin beating me up.
This went on for four days in a row I had had nothing to drink or eat and my body was broken from the beatings. Every time the guards came to give me another round of beatings the thought of giving up increased. It was now the 6th day and today I knew in my heart I would die....
Alpha Beta-
"Take this you b******s! I screamed as I fired my AR. "Go to Hell!"
TMP was right behind me, picking off Raiders trying to sneak behind us.
"Quite a patrol isn't it Alpha?"
"It sure is, hey at least we will get some target practice in!"
"We sure will, how many do you think there are?"
"20, maybe 30." Then all of a sudden, I saw a dark figure. It fired a pistol. I could feel the bullet breeze my head.
"S***." I froze stunned I was so close to death. I heard the figure mutter something, and then run off with a body slinged over his back. The person's arms tied behind their back. TMP fired a couple bursts, and then eased up.
"Alpha, you ok?" He asked worried.
"Fine, just never been so close to dieing, I guess it was shell-shock, won't happen again sir!" I told him, suddenly remembering he was a 2 ranks higher then me.
"Come on, they know not to mess with us anymore."
"Piece, who do you think that guy had on his back?"
"Don't know, looked like a prisoner, we'll see if anyone is MIA once we get back to camp."
"Alright." We started walking back to camp with a few other survivors.
TMP-
C3 found Alpha and Piece close to camp, or rather, Piece and Alpha found C3. Anyways, they were sweaty and covered with blood, although nobody knew whose it was. When they got back to camp, Darman addressed anyone, and for once C3 did not interrupt.
"Lady and Gentleman," Darman said. "As you can see, we are short a few people."
"Yes, of course," said Alpha, applying bandages and gauze as he talked. "Denal, Mil and Dutch are missing."
"Correct."