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Junior Posts: 51
This is a little idea I've had and thought I'd share with you all. Any feedback would be much appreciated!
Blank Slate
I don’t know who I am.
I can’t remember my name, about my life, how I got here, anything. I don’t remember how the world ended.
About five hours ago I woke up with amnesia. I can remember things – I know that this thing in my hand is called a pencil, I can look at my watch and see the time, I know that I’m in a hotel room and it’s customary to steal the soap when I leave. But the bit of my brain marked “Me” is a blank slate. No name, no favourite colour, no memories. I could draw you a map of the world but not tell you the name of my town. And that’s terrifying.
There are zombies. They haven’t seen me and I want to keep it that way but they’re out there and I’m scared shitless. I don’t know when it happened but they’ve taken over, the street outside is overgrown and silent and they just wander around. Humanity is gone, I don’t know how long ago, but I’ve somehow survived.
All day I’ve been sat here trying to work out what’s happening. I don’t want to sleep in case I wake up and it’s all gone again. I’m scribbling this down so if it does, I’ll have something. I’ve been rifling through my stuff to find a clue to what’s happening but I haven’t found anything. Credit cards and driving licences are useless now but I expected a letter or photo at least.
The only thing that wasn’t completely generic was the key. It was around my neck on a chain when I woke up. It’s thick, complex and has the letter P engraved on it, and I have no idea what it’s for. The only thing it’s given me is another question, but at least it’s a question with some semblance of purpose. I can’t let go of it.
Maybe if I grip it tightly enough I’ll remember.
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Student Teacher Posts: 214
Nice idea, hope ya post more :D
Levi Hoover 
March 21, 1984 - April 7, 2007
OIF 06-08
Rest in Peace Warrior.
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Senior Posts: 149
Looks good, just one question, will this be like AUD, and be a journal every couple of days?
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Junior Posts: 51
LoneGuardian09 - Posted 12 Hours Ago
Looks good, just one question, will this be like AUD, and be a journal every couple of days?
It's in journal format and the entries will probably be every couple of days, but unfortunately I don't have the time to do it in real time like Chris!
Next entry: The survivor gets a little analytical.
Day two, 3pm
Right.
I can remember yesterday. I finally managed to drop off and I felt better when I woke up, today has been spent trying to figure out as much as I can, and getting my head straight, so here goes.
Where I am: I’m in room 4 of the Woodview Hotel, Back Lane, Montforth (Not psychic, there’s a sheet of paper on the door). There was a heavy cabinet pushed against the door when I woke up yesterday and I haven’t dared leave the room. There’s a house opposite but that’s the only other building I can see, the area seems to be surrounded by woodland. The house looks pretty smashed up, all the ground floor windows and doors have been broken in. There are a couple of cars parked about the place but I doubt they’ll start.
What I’ve got: A reasonable amount of survival gear. I have a hefty backpack with a full change of clothes, bedroll, waterproof coat, compass, matches, knife, first aid kit, binoculars, canned food for around 5 days, water bottles, torch, some nails, hatchet, duct tape, multi-tool and a rifle with around 50 bullets. There’s a box of 20 rounds of smaller ammunition that don’t fit the rifle, maybe I had a pistol too at some point. The idea of having a gun feels odd but not unfamiliar, guess they’re standard attire these days.
When I am (if that’s how you say it): The trees outside the window have small buds on them and it’s warm enough for me to just wear a jumper so I think it’s sometime in spring. The world has been fucked for a while, grass is growing in the roads and things are starting to rust. Nothing looks too overgrown so I think it’s been less than a year since it happened. How it happened is filed under Infuriating Mysteries for the moment.
Zombies: I can see three from between my thick curtains. They walk slowly and without purpose, just ambling around. I know that you can kill them by destroying the brain, just as I know that turning a doorknob will open it, but I have no idea how I know it. If I get bitten I’ll turn into one of them, but those two facts are all I have. They still haven’t seen me, so I’ll keep quiet and hang here for another day or two until I figure more out. I don’t know why but I don’t seem that scared of them up here, perhaps I’m too detached, or just focussed on my own personal mindfuck.
I’ll write more tomorrow I think. Belly says it’s dinner time.
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Senior Posts: 149
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Senior Posts: 168
Life, Death.....I am the difference
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Junior Posts: 51
Day two, 11pm
Can’t sleep again. There’s enough moonlight coming in for me to write a bit.
Dinner was cold chicken soup, washed down with lemonade from the mini-fridge by the bed. Their prices are extortionate here but I don’t think they’re going to charge me on the way out. There were a few bottles in there which have kept me going – taps are long dried up. Grabbed a champagne miniature that was in there too, that’ll be nice if I ever get anything to celebrate.
I’ve been thinking - there weren’t any empty food tins in the room when I woke up. I think I must have walked into the room two days ago, barricaded the door, then fallen asleep and poof – bye bye memories. My biggest concern is that I don’t remember fully how to work the rifle. I spent half an hour practicing loading and using it today, but it still feels unfamiliar to me. I think it’ll fire once every time I pull the trigger, there’s no telescopic sight and the magazine holds 10 bullets. I daren’t fire it until I have to.
About me: Still nothing. Physically I’m reasonably well built, no tattoos or distinguishing features. Short brown hair, average height, all in all unremarkable features. I could be anyone. Looking at your face in the mirror and not knowing what you’re going to see is an incredibly odd feeling. My left knee looks like someone went at it with a chainsaw a few months back, it’s scarred to shit. There are very neat stitch marks around the main wounds though, I don’t think I could sew my own leg up that well. I wonder who did?
I don’t have a map, which worries me. I wonder if I can fi
Footsteps outside
Shit they’ve found me
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Senior Posts: 149
Pistol whip the first then shoot the second in the face! Run man run!
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Sophomore Posts: 31
Finding yourself clueless in a bad situation... listen to Loneguardian.Run!
What you don't know... won't hurt me!
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Junior Posts: 51
Day 3, 3pm
Believe it or not, I have not been eaten alive.
Two dead started beating on the door about 11, I didn’t sleep a wink. I wasn’t going to go outside at night, and shooting would probably draw more in, so I had to sit there until dawn listening to them trying to smash their way in and turn me into a midnight snack. I take back everything I said about not being scared of them. About 6am it started getting light and I made my move. The door was starting to give, I could see cracks appearing where their fists kept hitting it. I put on the pack, grabbed all my stuff and aimed the rifle midway between the fists where I thought the head of one would be.
Bloody hell the thing was loud. The recoil took me by surprise but I blew a jagged hole in the door and hit something with a horrible splattering noise, I heard it fall back and thud against the wall opposite. The other one must have pushed its head against the hole because I saw a horrible eye, grey tinged with brown, staring straight at me in the twilight. The second shot was easier, I leant into the gun and shot the thing right in that awful dead eyeball at point blank.
I pulled the cabinet away and opened the door. It stunk to high heaven out there; the wall was covered in brown stains around my two bullet holes. I’d hit the first one in the neck, it was twitching and writhing about but the other one had fallen on top of it and pinned it down. There wasn’t much head left. The wriggler was a middle aged bloke with half his arm chewed off, I didn’t want to make any more noise than I had already so I pulled the hatchet out and whacked him in the temple. As if the smell couldn’t get any worse, a bit of blood/brain/zombie goo hit me right under the nose and I chundered heartily over my boots. The apocalypse is disgusting.
The corridor had a staircase at the far end and a fire escape at the end closest to me, I figured the fire door was the best exit so I didn’t have to go through the downstairs. I’d planned to have a quick search of the other four rooms for supplies before I left as I’d already drained most of the bottles from my fridge. The other zombies hadn’t materialised so I went for it double quick. Room 5, the one between mine and the fire exit, had been stripped clean. There was an open suitcase on the bed and clothes scattered around but any occupants had taken all the useful stuff with them. I wonder if there’s a zombie wandering around with a champagne miniature in its back pocket somewhere.
Room 3 was a slaughterhouse. From the door I could see at least three bodies, long decomposed. One had a kitchen knife poking out of an empty eye socket, another was a child with the back of its skull missing. The window was smashed and someone had riddled the wall with bullets, it looked like that swiss cheese you can get. Used to be able to get. There was broken furniture, clothes and bedsheets everywhere, all splattered and stained brown. The gun that did the damage was probably in there somewhere but I wouldn’t have gone rooting through that room for a crate of steak.
Room 2 was locked. I couldn’t hear anything from inside but I didn’t try to force the door, part of me was just saying leave it be I guess. I moved onto Room 1, which was empty, and started loading up from the fridge. I grabbed the bottles, turned around and got blindsided by a fucking zombie who’d just come up the stairs.
She was about three feet away when I saw her. Before I knew what I was doing I’d brought the rifle round, smacking her in the face with the butt. I swear I heard her skull crack. She fell back and I spun the gun back, shooting her through the bottom of the head and blowing the top open like a party popper before she hit the floor. It must have been on reflex because I have no idea how I did it, evidently my subconscious knows how to fight better than I do. Massive adrenaline rush, I was crapping my pants but it felt good to knock the stuffing out of one.
I’d stayed too long, as I left the room I saw six of them coming up the main stairs. I shot the lead one and he tripped the others as he rolled down, I didn’t hang around and bolted down to the fire door. I wrenched it open to find it mercifully clear, so I ran down the metal steps and out into the car park. I could see several of them inside the hotel and a couple more coming out of the house opposite so I made for the trees. When I stopped running after 10 minutes my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t open my water bottle. Thankfully none of them managed to follow me, or gave up when they lost sight.
I’ve found a small barn on the edge of an overgrown field after a few hours walk. It’s empty, peaceful and if I sleep in the hay loft I can haul up the ladder and make it totally secure. I think I’ve earned a nap.
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Student Teacher Posts: 215
Good idea and decently executed, keep up the good work.
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Forum Dean Posts: 1088
Keep up the good work, Im really enjoying this.
Professer Pinderschloss " the human spirit is hard to kill"
Grandmama. " yes even with a chainsaw"
when mimes finally escape the invisible box, Hell will come with them.
http://midnightscorner.wordpress.com/ home of The Clock runs down, Dark Tide rising, and now A Storm Before Dawn Book III, and other storys from the Dead lands.
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Senior Posts: 149
sounds good, keep it uuuupppp
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Junior Posts: 51
Sorry for the wait, my workloads has calmed down a bit now so I can keep the story moving a bit faster. Next update should be along in a few days!
Day 4, 8am
That’s what I call a nap. I feel like a million dollars. (Totally useless in a post apocalyptic world? What a cynic I am)
This little journal is proving to be a nice little brain dump, I feel a lot clearer and calmer when I’ve put pencil to paper. I’m using a pad of notepaper from the hotel, I’ll keep an eye out for a proper notebook I think.
It’s only the morning but I felt I had to write this one down while it’s still fresh. I kipped in the hayloft, and when I woke up this morning it was full of birds. As in literally packed to the rafters. There were pigeons, songbirds, crows, robins, sparrows and a whole load more I don’t know names for. I think there was even an owl huddled in the corner. All these birds were sat shoulder to shoulder on the beams and in the straw and every single one was singing, belting it out at the top of their lungs without a care in the world. I don’t care that my memory only goes back four days, that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard and probably will ever hear. When the birds sing it means safety, peace and calm, and I lay there for what seemed like hours just watching and listening. I was asleep when they went to roost and they were happy to let me rest and rise with them. As the sun got higher they started to fly away and now the barn is empty and silent again.
I’m going to try and find Montford today, see if I can get some supplies, hopefully a map.
The birds have shat all over my stuff. Nature has a sense of humour.
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Sophomore Posts: 29
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