Roys Diary - Latest entry: #3 - Angels on the Sideline

  • #1 - Thanks, buddy


    You found me on my back in the pub of Kamyshovo. I was barely alive, almost out of blood, my health critical. Always drifting in and out of consciousness, not even long enough awake to open up the can of Spaghetti one of the infected dropped when they followed me in the pub. I was in no condition to fight in the first place - someone knocked me over the head at the Water Pump while I was weakened from some bacterial infection. When I came to me, I tried to talk to him, but got shot with my own pistol instead. While he did patch me up, he left me lying in the fields, infected being drawn by the noise of the shot. I limped into the next building as fast as I could and almost didn't manage to lock myself in and patch me up in time. A pistol was lying next to me, what luck! I chambered the one bullet I had on my by pure chance, but then darkness closed in on me. My heartbeat grew louder, drowning the moans of infected all-around me.


    And suddenly it stopped.


    Not my heart. The moaning. The next thing I knew was something slimy, sliding down my throat. And then I saw your face. Your beautiful hook-nosed face. Stuffing my face with the spaghettis and even an apple. You saved my life, buddy. Not that it mattered, now that I'm dead anways. But thanks for that kindness. Keep my pistol, you need it more than I. Take care man, take care.

    » ...

    When nothing is done,

    nothing is left undone.

    ... «

    The post was edited 3 times, last by RoyBeer: numbering ().

  • #2 - Sorry, I really hope it fits


    I was lying in the grass, trying to stay as calm as possible. My white women's blazer already dirty as can be from the mud this beastly weather had turned every last patch of grass of Chernarus into. I was shivering, but I kept my eyes locked on the water pump of the little town at the coast. I had heard gun shots and didn't want to risk anything, so I waited. I pulled my blazer tighter and tried to forget the freezing cold. The heat pack I found in the dear stand was long cold and my paranoid mind chided me the chattering of my teeth would only give away my position.


    Just as I was about to stand up and make a run for my life to the water pump, for a couple quick sips and my way out, someone zipped past me. He was so fast, I just lied there in shock. He didn't see me! How could he not? The rain already drowned out his foot steps, as he was now 10, 15, 25 meters in front of me. Then I didn't trust me eyes; He stripped off his jacket, his backpack - pushed it under some bushes and kept moving on and into the village.


    I didn't think twice. In fact, when I started thinking, I was already trying on his jacket. It was still warm! And not even a little bit wet on the inside! Guilty, I looked at the ragged women's blazer lying where I picked up the jacket. "Sorry ... I really hope it fits."

    » ...

    When nothing is done,

    nothing is left undone.

    ... «

    The post was edited 2 times, last by RoyBeer: numbering and headline ().

  • You found me on my back in the pub of Kamyshovo. I was barely alive, almost out of blood, my health critical. Always drifting in and out of consciousness, not even long enough awake to open up the can of Spaghetti one of the infected dropped when they followed me in the pub. I was in no condition to fight in the first place - someone knocked me over the head at the Water Pump while I was weakened from some bacterial infection. When I came to me, I tried to talk to him, but got shot with my own pistol instead. While he did patch me up, he left me lying in the fields, infected being drawn by the noise of the shot. I limped into the next building as fast as I could and almost didn't manage to lock myself in and patch me up in time. A pistol was lying next to me, what luck! I chambered the one bullet I had on my by pure chance, but then darkness closed in on me. My heartbeat grew louder, drowning the moans of infected all-around me.


    And suddenly it stopped.


    Not my heart. The moaning. The next thing I knew was something slimy, sliding down my throat. And then I saw your face. Your beautiful hook-nosed face. Stuffing my face with the spaghettis and even an apple. You saved my life, buddy. Not that it mattered, now that I'm dead anways. But thanks for that kindness. Keep my pistol, you need it more than I. Take care man, take care.

    It was a dewy morning when I freshly spawned in Kamyshovo. I was filled with new possibilities, hopes, and dreams as my adventure just started. My hopes turned to dread as dozens of bodies littered the streets, houses, and watering well. Mounds upon mounds of human limbs littered the town. Some monster had butchered dozens of bambis. In the middle of main street lied a bandit, freshly killed and next to him was a poor dead bambi just like me. Afraid of what was to become of me, I searched for gear in hopes of defending myself.


    That's when I found you, lying limp on the stairs. At first I assumed you were dead, I mourned your death for a brief moment and began heartlessly looting your body. I didn't even check to see if you were still alive. Looting a pistol from your still warm, pants less body. Then without warning, you came back to life. "Should I run with the pistol and get as far away as I can?" I asked myself. But with the small amount of energy you had left, you asked me to feed you a can of spaghetti, before falling unconscious again. I wanted to leave with the pistol and get as far away as possible, but my heart told me to help you. So that is what I did, I opened that can of spaghetti for you while you continued to come in and out of consciousness. I had to force you to chew since you were unable to do so on your own. Once the spaghetti was gone you continued to fall in and out of consciousness, so I went out in search for more food. That's when I found another dead bambi, with a fresh apple in his hoodie. I raced back to you, hoping you didn't die on me. I began to feed you like a baby bird, chewing the apple and mamma birding it into your mouth. It had worked! You finally had the strength to go to the watering well to replenish your dehydrated body. I even gave back the pistol I looted, as guilt began to set in. We raced to the watering well, together....


    Then out of no where, two zombies charged us! I killed one, the other hit you, knocking you to the ground. I killed the second one, then immediately went to resuscitate you, in hopes of bringing you back one last time. The damage was to great for you though, the zombie had done the finale hit to your weakened body. You were, dead.


    I looted your pistol for the second, and final time. I named it Roy, after the man whom it originally belonged to. This is where my journey begins, alone once again. Our moment together was brief, but my memory of you will continue on.


    Goodbye Roy, may we meet again.


    Colten

  • #3 - Angels on the Sideline


    I heard about it in Kamyshovo first. I eavesdropped on the conversation from the other side of a wooden fence. Two survivors were talking about some kind of village; someplace inland, that would take them up as refugees. Food, shelter - to be honest: it sounded too good to be true. All they needed was a walkie-talkie. My eyes immediately dropped onto the beaten-up handheld receiver dangling on my backpack. »What was that?«


    But I was already merging with the undergrowth.


    ...


    For three days and two batteries I tried my luck on every frequency. But nothing. Only static. However, I kept talking to the void. Somehow it comforted me, yet I felt like going insane. My mind started playing tricks on me, adding voices to the static that never responded to my calls. Or was my receiver just broken? Something rattled inside and one of the knobs was warped, not turning all the way. And next time, next time! they should write on the outside if something is not water-proof ... Okay?


    I woke to abrupt silence.


    My last battery went dead! I must've dozed in, letting the radio run all night long.

    Foot-steps behind me broke the silence.


    That was the day I met Roland.

    He gave me his Hunter's backpack and once I explained to him my troubles with the radio, he told me about an Electrical Repair Kit he just passed by earlier!


    My spirits were high as a kite and I flew on angel's wings to some yunkyard in which I found the tools to get my radio in good condition again.

    But I had no battery anymore, so I kept scavenging. I dodged another two Survivors that tried to kill each other over some differences I never got insight of. I buried the first one two days later but couldn't figure out what killed him.

    I stole his pristine Wellies and found a Flashlight within his belongings ... my fingers were shaking heavily, trying to open the little compartment hiding what felt like liquid gold turned into beans.


    I stuffed the battery into the radio with more force than necessary and turned the knob.