The Shadow Realm
Leader of The Shadow Realm
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ObiSemKenobi
Space Pirate Captain
The light shining through the cracked windows of the old dusty library was more than enough for the old woman to read her book. It was old, dusty and a bit mouldy, some of the words were illegible and pages were missing, but she could enjoy the familiarity of that which she could read nonetheless.
[SIZE=12pt]Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Creeps in this petty pace from day to day[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]To the last syllable of recorded time,[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And all our yesterdays have lighted fools[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle![/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]That struts and frets his hour upon the stage[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And then is heard no more. It is a tale[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Signifying nothing.[/SIZE]
She mumbled the words out loud with a slight smile on her face. It perfectly reflected the state of mind most people had in the Infected Lands, but it was not what she had found. She believed a different truth.
As if on que, a door opened at the very next line. The footsteps of an old man were almost inaudible as he walked into the rather large hall. It was an old-looking man, curly grey hair, a dirty shirt and worn down trousers. In his mouth was a smoking pipe. The woman put her mask back on and looked up to see who so professionally avoided disturbing the silence.
“Sorry for the intrusion madam, I did not expect anyone to be here.”
“That’s quite alright. I dare say this library once offered peace and solitude to more than one person at a time.”
“Indeed it did! Those were the days. Hardly anyone bothers about books anymore nowadays. First it was that computer stuff and now the simple lack of people. That’s alright though, the books’ll outlive our passing fancies.”
“I’m sure they will. I just never expected our librarians to do the same.”
“A good librarian is as tough as his books. Besides I had stage 4 liver cancer before the plague hit me, and from what I can tell it broke the cancer down faster than those good-for-nothing doctors ever thought possible. ‘Course the alternative’s not much better, but it hasn’t killed me yet.”
“But how did you survive here? This area is all but stripped clean of supplies.”
“My father survived the war of ‘39, previous century. If he taught me one thing it was to always make sure you have enough food stocked to survive until judgement day. I have a small basement down below with everything I’ll need for that dirt speck that is the remainder of my life. If you need anything feel free to take some, I have plenty.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I already have everything that I can carry with me.”
“Just a cup of tea then perhaps? It has been some time since I had guests.”
“I did not think I would ever hear those words again. I would love some tea if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all, I have all the fuel I need for a nice little fire in the Modern Literature section. And you can drop that mask. It’s not like I’ll get more infected than I already am and it’s bloody impersonal to stare at a black triangle.”
The man stepped back outside for a little while and came back with a small kettle and frame and started to make a small controlled fire. The entire Game of Thrones omnibus cheerfully crackled in the fire. The two companions were enjoying the tea and each other’s company until the sun went down.
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, another man stood in the entrance to the main hall. He was rather tall, dressed in clothes that must have been expensive once, with a longcoat hanging loosely over his shoulders. He had a pistol on his hip and an army knife in his hands. He had a pride in his eyes that looked like it once went together with a very handsome complexion. Sadly, he did not seem to realise that the Agony had ruined that finely chiselled face beyond recognition. It was a very uncanny sight to behold.
“Well, well, what do you know? Two old-timers enjoying a cup of tea in a nice little library. And here I was thinking civilization was a thing of the past.”
The man looked like he wanted to retort, but the woman got up first and placed a hand on his shoulder. She put her mask back on and faced the newcomer.
“If you wish you are welcome to join us, though I am not sure if our company would please you. We are just two old people reminiscing a time gone by.”
“Ah, now that is very kind of you to offer, but I’m after a bit more than that I’m afraid. You see, I came in looking for the keys to that truck I saw outside, but now that I’ve seen that gun of yours I’d really rather like to take it.”
“I am sorry, but that weapon is necessary for my survival. As is my truck. I’m afraid I cannot hand them over to you. If there is nothing else we can help you with I would kindly ask you to leave.”
“Kindly ask me to… wow, you really are from an age gone by. Listen lady, it’s very simple. I think we both know I’m quicker on the draw then you are and even without it an old lady like you would hardly stand a chance against someone like me.“
“I doubt you’d find me worth the bullet. But if you are determined to have your way I am afraid I will have to fight you. The gun is meant as a last resort, but I assure you I know how to use it.”
“Tell you what, no one can say that Jake Carter isn’t an honourable man. I won’t shoot an old lady down without giving her a fair fight. I see you have a nice-looking sword standing against that chair, so we might as well solve this as gentlemen. My dagger against your sword, what do you say?”
“I think you are needlessly throwing your life away. Nevertheless, if you choose to attack, I will defend myself.”
The woman in black reached for her rapier and unsheathed the shiny blade, reflecting the glow of the dying fire across the room.
“Let’s get at this then!”
The man charged with his knife in a ready position. It was clear that he did know how to use it. His stance was that of a U.S. marine. However, he couldn’t have gone through much more than the basic training, or he’d know that a knife is a lousy defence against a properly wielded rapier. Or maybe he did know, but his overconfidence clouded his judgement.
He lashed out with the blade, but he wasn’t nearly close enough for a successful hit. She parried and lacerated his hand in one movement. The man shrieked and dropped his knife.
“You bitch!” He yelled, and reached for his pistol. However, because he now used his left hand and his pistol was on his right hip, he didn’t get there quick enough. The moment his hand was on the grip, the dark lady pulled the trigger. The bullet hit him square in the chest and he was soon lying in a puddle of his own blood. She holstered her sword and revolver and knelt down next to the man.
“You’re leaving this world now, on to the next. Make sure it’s the right one. You strayed from the right path, but all can be forgiven. Don’t let stubbornness take that away from you.”
The man blinked a couple of times with fearful eyes, his pupils darted back and forth until finally, they stopped.
The woman didn’t move for a while, and made no sound but the soft mumble of a prayer. After a few minutes she got up and turned back to the librarian.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that. I’ll go bury him outside and clean this mess up as well as I can. If you’d let me stay the night, I’ll be gone when the morning comes.”
“Lady, this is not the first time anyone dies in front of me. However, it is the first time I have someone to thank for saving my life. You’re free to stay as long as you like. I’d help you to bury the poor lad, but my body won’t allow it anymore. There’s a shovel in the barn though, should still be proper.”
“Thank you. I truly appreciate that.”
With that she dragged the man outside and started digging. It was early morning ere she finished, but that didn’t stop her from taking a nice long nap in one of the library chairs. She stayed for another day and night but departed early the following morning. Before she left however, the old librarian told her about a girl that would come by to read every now and then that seemed to be uninfected. Her name was Rose.
With a new purpose laid in front of her, the lady in black left the old library and drove off into the sunrise.
[SIZE=12pt]Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Creeps in this petty pace from day to day[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]To the last syllable of recorded time,[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And all our yesterdays have lighted fools[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle![/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]That struts and frets his hour upon the stage[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And then is heard no more. It is a tale[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Signifying nothing.[/SIZE]
She mumbled the words out loud with a slight smile on her face. It perfectly reflected the state of mind most people had in the Infected Lands, but it was not what she had found. She believed a different truth.
As if on que, a door opened at the very next line. The footsteps of an old man were almost inaudible as he walked into the rather large hall. It was an old-looking man, curly grey hair, a dirty shirt and worn down trousers. In his mouth was a smoking pipe. The woman put her mask back on and looked up to see who so professionally avoided disturbing the silence.
“Sorry for the intrusion madam, I did not expect anyone to be here.”
“That’s quite alright. I dare say this library once offered peace and solitude to more than one person at a time.”
“Indeed it did! Those were the days. Hardly anyone bothers about books anymore nowadays. First it was that computer stuff and now the simple lack of people. That’s alright though, the books’ll outlive our passing fancies.”
“I’m sure they will. I just never expected our librarians to do the same.”
“A good librarian is as tough as his books. Besides I had stage 4 liver cancer before the plague hit me, and from what I can tell it broke the cancer down faster than those good-for-nothing doctors ever thought possible. ‘Course the alternative’s not much better, but it hasn’t killed me yet.”
“But how did you survive here? This area is all but stripped clean of supplies.”
“My father survived the war of ‘39, previous century. If he taught me one thing it was to always make sure you have enough food stocked to survive until judgement day. I have a small basement down below with everything I’ll need for that dirt speck that is the remainder of my life. If you need anything feel free to take some, I have plenty.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I already have everything that I can carry with me.”
“Just a cup of tea then perhaps? It has been some time since I had guests.”
“I did not think I would ever hear those words again. I would love some tea if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all, I have all the fuel I need for a nice little fire in the Modern Literature section. And you can drop that mask. It’s not like I’ll get more infected than I already am and it’s bloody impersonal to stare at a black triangle.”
The man stepped back outside for a little while and came back with a small kettle and frame and started to make a small controlled fire. The entire Game of Thrones omnibus cheerfully crackled in the fire. The two companions were enjoying the tea and each other’s company until the sun went down.
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, another man stood in the entrance to the main hall. He was rather tall, dressed in clothes that must have been expensive once, with a longcoat hanging loosely over his shoulders. He had a pistol on his hip and an army knife in his hands. He had a pride in his eyes that looked like it once went together with a very handsome complexion. Sadly, he did not seem to realise that the Agony had ruined that finely chiselled face beyond recognition. It was a very uncanny sight to behold.
“Well, well, what do you know? Two old-timers enjoying a cup of tea in a nice little library. And here I was thinking civilization was a thing of the past.”
The man looked like he wanted to retort, but the woman got up first and placed a hand on his shoulder. She put her mask back on and faced the newcomer.
“If you wish you are welcome to join us, though I am not sure if our company would please you. We are just two old people reminiscing a time gone by.”
“Ah, now that is very kind of you to offer, but I’m after a bit more than that I’m afraid. You see, I came in looking for the keys to that truck I saw outside, but now that I’ve seen that gun of yours I’d really rather like to take it.”
“I am sorry, but that weapon is necessary for my survival. As is my truck. I’m afraid I cannot hand them over to you. If there is nothing else we can help you with I would kindly ask you to leave.”
“Kindly ask me to… wow, you really are from an age gone by. Listen lady, it’s very simple. I think we both know I’m quicker on the draw then you are and even without it an old lady like you would hardly stand a chance against someone like me.“
“I doubt you’d find me worth the bullet. But if you are determined to have your way I am afraid I will have to fight you. The gun is meant as a last resort, but I assure you I know how to use it.”
“Tell you what, no one can say that Jake Carter isn’t an honourable man. I won’t shoot an old lady down without giving her a fair fight. I see you have a nice-looking sword standing against that chair, so we might as well solve this as gentlemen. My dagger against your sword, what do you say?”
“I think you are needlessly throwing your life away. Nevertheless, if you choose to attack, I will defend myself.”
The woman in black reached for her rapier and unsheathed the shiny blade, reflecting the glow of the dying fire across the room.
“Let’s get at this then!”
The man charged with his knife in a ready position. It was clear that he did know how to use it. His stance was that of a U.S. marine. However, he couldn’t have gone through much more than the basic training, or he’d know that a knife is a lousy defence against a properly wielded rapier. Or maybe he did know, but his overconfidence clouded his judgement.
He lashed out with the blade, but he wasn’t nearly close enough for a successful hit. She parried and lacerated his hand in one movement. The man shrieked and dropped his knife.
“You bitch!” He yelled, and reached for his pistol. However, because he now used his left hand and his pistol was on his right hip, he didn’t get there quick enough. The moment his hand was on the grip, the dark lady pulled the trigger. The bullet hit him square in the chest and he was soon lying in a puddle of his own blood. She holstered her sword and revolver and knelt down next to the man.
“You’re leaving this world now, on to the next. Make sure it’s the right one. You strayed from the right path, but all can be forgiven. Don’t let stubbornness take that away from you.”
The man blinked a couple of times with fearful eyes, his pupils darted back and forth until finally, they stopped.
The woman didn’t move for a while, and made no sound but the soft mumble of a prayer. After a few minutes she got up and turned back to the librarian.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that. I’ll go bury him outside and clean this mess up as well as I can. If you’d let me stay the night, I’ll be gone when the morning comes.”
“Lady, this is not the first time anyone dies in front of me. However, it is the first time I have someone to thank for saving my life. You’re free to stay as long as you like. I’d help you to bury the poor lad, but my body won’t allow it anymore. There’s a shovel in the barn though, should still be proper.”
“Thank you. I truly appreciate that.”
With that she dragged the man outside and started digging. It was early morning ere she finished, but that didn’t stop her from taking a nice long nap in one of the library chairs. She stayed for another day and night but departed early the following morning. Before she left however, the old librarian told her about a girl that would come by to read every now and then that seemed to be uninfected. Her name was Rose.
With a new purpose laid in front of her, the lady in black left the old library and drove off into the sunrise.
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TeaMMatE11
The Ninja. Now you see me, Now you don't.
Another wave of infected attacked the base. This wasn't the first time it happened, nor was it going to be the last. Taylor, with her mask on, put round after round into bodies that deceased due to her rifle. The gunshots of a fight against the infected could be heard for miles. The battle would last for 2 hours. Waste of supplies. Stupid infected. Because of this, Taylor had no empathy for the infected.
Just then, a blackhawk flew overhead. It landed in a clearing that one of the squads made earlier that week. 4 men dropped off from the heli, and a few boxes of supplies. Taylor approached them. Since they weren't official military, they dropped all the salutes. Grunts still had to talk with respect to their superiors. The men tensed up as Taylor approached. "Relax, you know I'm not gonna bite. Whddya got?" It seemed awfully suspicious. "Ma'am, we got these crates after a small supply raid off of one of their transports."
Isn't that something. "Good work. Rest up, get some food." One of them from the squad that she sent out earlier was missing. Probably dead. Poor soul. The rebels have taken shelter in the abandoned buildings. They tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible, trying to remember the good ol' days when these metropolitan areas used to be bustling with activity. People with earbuds walking down the street, cars honking at each other. The cars were merely shells that they once were. Some we operable, others were not. Most of the cars had a dead battery or no gas anyways. They were mostly scrapped by the rebellion for metal.
The cityscape was both beautiful, yet horrifying. Ivy grew over the buildings, the roads were destroyed from roots of trees. From time to time, off in the distance, soldiers can see animals running around, sometimes hunted for their meat. Moss and grass grew on the street, the city covered in greenery, losing its symbol as one of the greatest cities in America. Birds chirped in the air as a breeze blew from time to time.
The rebels were not only protecting themselves, but civilians who weren't infected were allowed to start a small society. The rebels were more than a force, they had a small society of people with different skills. In some way, shape or form, all of them contributed to the camp.
Taylor would take in the beauty more if she didn't have her hands full in dealing with the Enforcers and the Infected at the same time. Damn Enforcers. Thinking they can take the basic human right of knowledge. And the infected. There's no way we can wipe out the infected. She cursed in her head, and decided to wait before making any action. Their supply level was ok right now, especially with the new shipment that came in, but they needed more. And quickly.
"Base C, this is Captain Woxwell, Base A, over."
"Copy. What do you need?"
"Supplies. 2 boxes of bullets, water, and food, over."
"Copy. Supplies on the way."
"Good. Make sure it's escorted."
"Good copy. Over and out."
Taylor looked at the map of the local area, one that was marked up to locate where both the rebels and the Enforcers were located. Their front lines were stalemated, no one could break through eiher side's defenses.
Hopefully that will change soon.
Just then, a blackhawk flew overhead. It landed in a clearing that one of the squads made earlier that week. 4 men dropped off from the heli, and a few boxes of supplies. Taylor approached them. Since they weren't official military, they dropped all the salutes. Grunts still had to talk with respect to their superiors. The men tensed up as Taylor approached. "Relax, you know I'm not gonna bite. Whddya got?" It seemed awfully suspicious. "Ma'am, we got these crates after a small supply raid off of one of their transports."
Isn't that something. "Good work. Rest up, get some food." One of them from the squad that she sent out earlier was missing. Probably dead. Poor soul. The rebels have taken shelter in the abandoned buildings. They tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible, trying to remember the good ol' days when these metropolitan areas used to be bustling with activity. People with earbuds walking down the street, cars honking at each other. The cars were merely shells that they once were. Some we operable, others were not. Most of the cars had a dead battery or no gas anyways. They were mostly scrapped by the rebellion for metal.
The cityscape was both beautiful, yet horrifying. Ivy grew over the buildings, the roads were destroyed from roots of trees. From time to time, off in the distance, soldiers can see animals running around, sometimes hunted for their meat. Moss and grass grew on the street, the city covered in greenery, losing its symbol as one of the greatest cities in America. Birds chirped in the air as a breeze blew from time to time.
The rebels were not only protecting themselves, but civilians who weren't infected were allowed to start a small society. The rebels were more than a force, they had a small society of people with different skills. In some way, shape or form, all of them contributed to the camp.
Taylor would take in the beauty more if she didn't have her hands full in dealing with the Enforcers and the Infected at the same time. Damn Enforcers. Thinking they can take the basic human right of knowledge. And the infected. There's no way we can wipe out the infected. She cursed in her head, and decided to wait before making any action. Their supply level was ok right now, especially with the new shipment that came in, but they needed more. And quickly.
"Base C, this is Captain Woxwell, Base A, over."
"Copy. What do you need?"
"Supplies. 2 boxes of bullets, water, and food, over."
"Copy. Supplies on the way."
"Good. Make sure it's escorted."
"Good copy. Over and out."
Taylor looked at the map of the local area, one that was marked up to locate where both the rebels and the Enforcers were located. Their front lines were stalemated, no one could break through eiher side's defenses.
Hopefully that will change soon.
LeechFriend
Magic Eight Ball
Nicole placed the last root in her wheel barrow and reached her arm up to wipe the sweat from her forehead that had been steadily dripping into her eyes for the last few hours. She had taken the other harvesters' advice to tie a bandana around her hairline weeks ago, but rather than acting like a barrier it simply served as a sponge, allowing the sweat to build into a soggy mess on her brow. For what felt like the millionth time she reached down and lifted the handles of the barrow, already weighed down by the extra fifteen pounds of potatoes sitting in the hemp knapsack on her back. She headed towards the harvesting collection site and waited in line behind the dozens of others, all sweating profusely and too exhausted to talk. The job was essentially a double win for Nicole; a good way to continue building muscle and no obligation to talk. Once she made it to the front of the line she weighed her harvests for the day; a total of forty-eight pounds. She was rewarded with three meal tickets to be exchanged at the grocer. It wasn't a bad days wage, as Nicole had trained herself to go on one and a half full meals a day, plus the three extra potatoes she slipped into her pocket when no one was looking.
Nicole began her exhausted trek home, taking the bandana off her head and wringing it out in the street before tying it on her wrist. Her tank top followed, exposing her black sports bra that kept everything compressed and hidden, just the way she liked it. The minimal self appreciation of her toned stomach had long since worn out; no one cared about that anymore. If you weren't sickly with the virus or from hunger, you were muscular from work. It was an abnormally hot day, and Nicole tucked her shirt into her pocket to let her sweat dry off by the sun before it finished setting.
She made her way to her apartment complex, a tall and spindly building devoid of any colour. She had been given a room higher up due to her late coming to the city, and while the view was nice she was unsure of its security, feeling the walls vibrate on especially windy days. She entered the single room and went straight to her washbasin, filling it up with a few cups of water and washing herself down with a torn up rag. She then lay down on her mattress, pushing her wool blanket to the side. Immediately the thoughts began racing through her mind. The memories of the assault flooded her now that she wasn't distracted by work. She pushed her clenched fists into her eyes, trying to physically push them out, but to no avail. After a minute or two of vivid remembering Nicole rose, taking a roll of gauze out of her pocket. She wrapped her hands and stepped up to her makeshift punching bag; an old ironing board leaning against the wall. Her neighbors didn't mind much, they were an old couple whose eyesight was almost as poor as their hearing.
She took a couple uninspired swings before focusing her thoughts and squaring up to the board. She pictured the face of her attacker, the one who had stolen her innocence, and landed a swift, powerful punch to the centre of the board, feeling it vibrate under her knuckles. This continued until she was breathing hard, grunting with every swing. They turned more and more primal until she was screaming with every hit, tears of anger falling from her eyes. She suddenly dropped her hands and let out an anguished cry before taking her routined deep breaths to calm herself down. She unwrapped her hands, knuckles bloody now, and fell back to her mattress, shutting her eyes and giving herself up to sleep.
Nicole began her exhausted trek home, taking the bandana off her head and wringing it out in the street before tying it on her wrist. Her tank top followed, exposing her black sports bra that kept everything compressed and hidden, just the way she liked it. The minimal self appreciation of her toned stomach had long since worn out; no one cared about that anymore. If you weren't sickly with the virus or from hunger, you were muscular from work. It was an abnormally hot day, and Nicole tucked her shirt into her pocket to let her sweat dry off by the sun before it finished setting.
She made her way to her apartment complex, a tall and spindly building devoid of any colour. She had been given a room higher up due to her late coming to the city, and while the view was nice she was unsure of its security, feeling the walls vibrate on especially windy days. She entered the single room and went straight to her washbasin, filling it up with a few cups of water and washing herself down with a torn up rag. She then lay down on her mattress, pushing her wool blanket to the side. Immediately the thoughts began racing through her mind. The memories of the assault flooded her now that she wasn't distracted by work. She pushed her clenched fists into her eyes, trying to physically push them out, but to no avail. After a minute or two of vivid remembering Nicole rose, taking a roll of gauze out of her pocket. She wrapped her hands and stepped up to her makeshift punching bag; an old ironing board leaning against the wall. Her neighbors didn't mind much, they were an old couple whose eyesight was almost as poor as their hearing.
She took a couple uninspired swings before focusing her thoughts and squaring up to the board. She pictured the face of her attacker, the one who had stolen her innocence, and landed a swift, powerful punch to the centre of the board, feeling it vibrate under her knuckles. This continued until she was breathing hard, grunting with every swing. They turned more and more primal until she was screaming with every hit, tears of anger falling from her eyes. She suddenly dropped her hands and let out an anguished cry before taking her routined deep breaths to calm herself down. She unwrapped her hands, knuckles bloody now, and fell back to her mattress, shutting her eyes and giving herself up to sleep.
Freshpanda88
The constantly lost one.
Eugenio Delmar
Field research, "Outdoor laboratory" 1
Day 176, Year 5 after initial infection
The Pathogen shows no signs of change since its last mutation...As it had for the last 5 years. Not even a reaction to your "latest formula". Maybe it worked in your lab, but it's definitely not showing any signs of effectiveness here. It practically shrugs it off. Could be the different conditions between our labs but i'm not sure.
So as you can tell, research is going as slowly as usual. It definitely doesn't help that the last body i had decomposed too much to be used anymore. Maybe if you sent someone over here it could speed up the process a little bit? But i know as well as you do that people aren't exactly volunteering for this line of work. And who can blame them? You definitely aren't.
Maybe you could just send someone to keep me company? Hell, They don't really have to do anything. Just walk around, maybe talk to me and try not to touch me lest they suffer a fate worse than death. Nothing much.
In short, nothing new to report as usual. But, i'll notify you if i find anything. As always.
I know this is an unusually short and "unprofessional" log but let's be honest, it saves time.
Sincerely: Eugenio Delmar.
P.S. What do you think about making these like letters? I like the idea.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Eugenio finished his "report" he saved it into an old USB, put on his hazmat suit, grabbed his car keys and began his long drive to the last city to deliver said "report". He dropped off the USB into a slot as usual, waited around 30 minutes for "proper precautions" to take place before they even plug in the USB into a computer, another 30 to have it back, and the usual payment of supplies such as food, gasoline, and the "new formula". He gets back in his car and drives all the way back to the makeshift laboratory he made in a warehouse.
This was essentially his daily routine. Wake up, study TAV, make a log, drive to the last city, give them the USB with the log, wait for them to give the USB back (with payment), drive all the way back to his warehouse, test any formulas they had created on the bodies or on himself, go to sleep and start the process all over again with little to no change. This was his entire life since he became part of "field research", a field that only started after his entire team had become infected, along with himself. Throughout the fits of coughing and blood loss he continued his team's research, being the last surviving member. Though "surviving" is a bit of a stretch...
Field research, "Outdoor laboratory" 1
Day 176, Year 5 after initial infection
The Pathogen shows no signs of change since its last mutation...As it had for the last 5 years. Not even a reaction to your "latest formula". Maybe it worked in your lab, but it's definitely not showing any signs of effectiveness here. It practically shrugs it off. Could be the different conditions between our labs but i'm not sure.
So as you can tell, research is going as slowly as usual. It definitely doesn't help that the last body i had decomposed too much to be used anymore. Maybe if you sent someone over here it could speed up the process a little bit? But i know as well as you do that people aren't exactly volunteering for this line of work. And who can blame them? You definitely aren't.
Maybe you could just send someone to keep me company? Hell, They don't really have to do anything. Just walk around, maybe talk to me and try not to touch me lest they suffer a fate worse than death. Nothing much.
In short, nothing new to report as usual. But, i'll notify you if i find anything. As always.
I know this is an unusually short and "unprofessional" log but let's be honest, it saves time.
Sincerely: Eugenio Delmar.
P.S. What do you think about making these like letters? I like the idea.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Eugenio finished his "report" he saved it into an old USB, put on his hazmat suit, grabbed his car keys and began his long drive to the last city to deliver said "report". He dropped off the USB into a slot as usual, waited around 30 minutes for "proper precautions" to take place before they even plug in the USB into a computer, another 30 to have it back, and the usual payment of supplies such as food, gasoline, and the "new formula". He gets back in his car and drives all the way back to the makeshift laboratory he made in a warehouse.
This was essentially his daily routine. Wake up, study TAV, make a log, drive to the last city, give them the USB with the log, wait for them to give the USB back (with payment), drive all the way back to his warehouse, test any formulas they had created on the bodies or on himself, go to sleep and start the process all over again with little to no change. This was his entire life since he became part of "field research", a field that only started after his entire team had become infected, along with himself. Throughout the fits of coughing and blood loss he continued his team's research, being the last surviving member. Though "surviving" is a bit of a stretch...
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Amelia White
Probably lost
"Do NOT go home. Run, hide, and if caught, beg for mercy. You're young, so they might just let you leave. Don't resist too much if they get you. Most enforcers would shoot you down at any sign of struggle."
Lotus runs faster than she ever has before, determined to gather her belongings before the enforcers got to them. All she has on her is her work bag and the clothes on her back, and she knew that wasn't enough to survive out in the Infected Lands. Her mind barely keeping up with her feet, she quickly reads street signs. Her medical mask already stained crimson with blood. She holds the note in her hand, crumpling it with every step she takes. Lo has never seen what they do to citizens who've become infected, but she's heard all the stories. Making a left on the corner 42nd and 5th, she gets a glance of her home, or at least, what's left of it. Her thoughts travel to her fellow employees, her friends. The last thing her employer, Judith, said to her was one simple word.
"Run." says the musky voice that obviously wasn't completely sober.
"What?" Lo had just received a note instead of her paycheck. Judith slowly, her hands shaking, points to the mask that is covering most of Lo's face. Furrowing her brows, Lo quickly makes her way over to one of the desks, one that had a pocket mirror left on it. Earlier in the week, Lo had felt a cold coming on, so she put on a mask as to not infect anyone else. Unaware of the severity of her situation, she looked into the mirror. Almost immediately, she stumbled back.
"Go. I wish you good luck. You were one of the best employees I've had." Judith said, unable to look into the young girls eyes.
Her home is up in flames, Enforcers on every side. Her eyes fill with tears. Lo is now infected and most likely a fugitive in The Last City. Quiet sobs escape her lips and tears roll down her cheeks, dampening the mask she wore. She was trying her best to keep quiet, trying her best to get away, but she couldn't move her feet anymore and she couldn't hold her self together anymore. Soon, one of the enforcers turns to see her inching away from the fire. He shouts something inaudible to her and she regains control of herself. Quickly, she gets back up on her feet and runs. Luckily for her, her time as a messenger has left her with much more stamina and endurance than the average 18 year old.
A loud booming fills the area. Lo drops to the floor, ripping a hole in her black jeans and cutting her knee. Although, the knee injury is the least of her worries. She was shot, the bullet grazing her right shoulder. Instinctively, she grabs at the wound, wailing in pain. She tries to reach inside her bag for something to help stop the bleeding, but it is kicked away as an enforcer approaches her. Standing over her, she could barely see his face through the shadow that is casted over it. What she could see clearly was the gun pointed at the space between her eyes.
"Please," She cries, "Please, I might not have a lot of time left and I promise I won't infect anyone else, please." Lotus was hoping that the armed man would have some sort of sympathy for her.
"Please.. I'll leave the city, I'll never come back, I promise." She says, tears falling once again. Her voice was soft, but loud enough for him to hear. She moves slowly, reaching into her pocket. The other enforcers pull their weapons out of their holsters, but the one standing before her motions for them to halt. Pulling a card out of her pocket, she tosses it in front of her.
"I'm gonna die either way so, Can you tell her "Thanks" for me? From Lo." She says. It is a business card she would usually hand out when on the job. It had Judith's phone number and email on it. Barely hanging onto consciousness, her eyes flutter and she lays back onto the cold stone floor. The last thing she sees is two enforcers in hazmat suits walking towards her. The next thing she knew, she was laying in the dirt, her wound treated and her mask changed. Her vision is blurry for a few moments. As soon as she could see clearly, she frantically looks for her bag. Letting out a breath when she finds it neatly place next to her, she pulls it onto her good shoulder and stands up. Lo is outside of the city, alive.
@ Anyone I guess lol
Lotus runs faster than she ever has before, determined to gather her belongings before the enforcers got to them. All she has on her is her work bag and the clothes on her back, and she knew that wasn't enough to survive out in the Infected Lands. Her mind barely keeping up with her feet, she quickly reads street signs. Her medical mask already stained crimson with blood. She holds the note in her hand, crumpling it with every step she takes. Lo has never seen what they do to citizens who've become infected, but she's heard all the stories. Making a left on the corner 42nd and 5th, she gets a glance of her home, or at least, what's left of it. Her thoughts travel to her fellow employees, her friends. The last thing her employer, Judith, said to her was one simple word.
"Run." says the musky voice that obviously wasn't completely sober.
"What?" Lo had just received a note instead of her paycheck. Judith slowly, her hands shaking, points to the mask that is covering most of Lo's face. Furrowing her brows, Lo quickly makes her way over to one of the desks, one that had a pocket mirror left on it. Earlier in the week, Lo had felt a cold coming on, so she put on a mask as to not infect anyone else. Unaware of the severity of her situation, she looked into the mirror. Almost immediately, she stumbled back.
"Go. I wish you good luck. You were one of the best employees I've had." Judith said, unable to look into the young girls eyes.
Her home is up in flames, Enforcers on every side. Her eyes fill with tears. Lo is now infected and most likely a fugitive in The Last City. Quiet sobs escape her lips and tears roll down her cheeks, dampening the mask she wore. She was trying her best to keep quiet, trying her best to get away, but she couldn't move her feet anymore and she couldn't hold her self together anymore. Soon, one of the enforcers turns to see her inching away from the fire. He shouts something inaudible to her and she regains control of herself. Quickly, she gets back up on her feet and runs. Luckily for her, her time as a messenger has left her with much more stamina and endurance than the average 18 year old.
A loud booming fills the area. Lo drops to the floor, ripping a hole in her black jeans and cutting her knee. Although, the knee injury is the least of her worries. She was shot, the bullet grazing her right shoulder. Instinctively, she grabs at the wound, wailing in pain. She tries to reach inside her bag for something to help stop the bleeding, but it is kicked away as an enforcer approaches her. Standing over her, she could barely see his face through the shadow that is casted over it. What she could see clearly was the gun pointed at the space between her eyes.
"Please," She cries, "Please, I might not have a lot of time left and I promise I won't infect anyone else, please." Lotus was hoping that the armed man would have some sort of sympathy for her.
"Please.. I'll leave the city, I'll never come back, I promise." She says, tears falling once again. Her voice was soft, but loud enough for him to hear. She moves slowly, reaching into her pocket. The other enforcers pull their weapons out of their holsters, but the one standing before her motions for them to halt. Pulling a card out of her pocket, she tosses it in front of her.
"I'm gonna die either way so, Can you tell her "Thanks" for me? From Lo." She says. It is a business card she would usually hand out when on the job. It had Judith's phone number and email on it. Barely hanging onto consciousness, her eyes flutter and she lays back onto the cold stone floor. The last thing she sees is two enforcers in hazmat suits walking towards her. The next thing she knew, she was laying in the dirt, her wound treated and her mask changed. Her vision is blurry for a few moments. As soon as she could see clearly, she frantically looks for her bag. Letting out a breath when she finds it neatly place next to her, she pulls it onto her good shoulder and stands up. Lo is outside of the city, alive.
@ Anyone I guess lol