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Friday, January 27, 2012
Awake Again
Something has happened to you.
I awaken in a dimly lit, damp and musky factory building. There are others here, other humans. I can make out their weary shapes, but I do not know them. At least, I don’t think so.
Something must have happened. Where am I?
The generator sputters noisily as I try to gather my thoughts. The building is cold. The others are wearing winter coats and boots. The ground-level windows are extremely heavily boarded, but through a skylight I see a mild flurry of snow.
It’s winter. I can’t remember anything.
I look at my hands; dirty and crusted with old, dried blood. I am wearing a bloodstained black hooded sweater, a ripped and bloodstained black coat, a pair of black trousers and a scuffed pair of steel toe-capped boots.
Something did happen.
There is a large black duffle bag. Shotguns, pistols, a toolbox, first-aid, a radio. As I am taking stock, a blood flecked police cap falls from my head and rolls onto the open bag. I remember something.
I’m a police officer.
More in the bag. Spray cans, Syringes, an odd device labeled “NecroTech.”
I was a police officer.
Knit into the lining of the cap, there is a name. “Cal Morse,” I say aloud, startling myself. The statement echoes through the factory and one of the transients stirs momentarily. The name feels right. I pick up the cap and examine the insignia on the front.
Malton. I’m in Malton.
There is a horrible groan from beyond the doors. Someone has spray painted on a nearby wall, “Vote Heather for Homecoming Queen!”
I’m in Hell.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Quanto tempo tem sido? Quem sou eu hoje?
Acordei em um hospital e tropecei para fora rapidamente. Os zumbis gritou, mas não dão a perseguição. Depois de uma hora gasto na procura derefúgio, eu consegui entrar na estação ferroviária Hayes Place.Eu coleciono os meus pensamentos enquanto fumava um cigarro. Esta estação é linda. Desprovido depessoas. Desprovido de zumbis. Tosse! Tosse! Meutuberculose está a piorar. Um pequeno preço a pagarpela liberdade.Um preço muito pequeno comparado ao de fato a dívidadevo. A dívida que é rápido a vencer.Alguém tem pintados na parede: "KEEP VSB"!!!
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