7 years after the apex released some sort of virus which turned humans into bloodthirsty zombies reports are sketchy but it looks like they may be back god help us all,

Jd,england

I remember what life was like before the outbreak...I sometimes feel like I'm the only one. I never had to kill zombie or human. I'm a rarity. A different person than everyone else. I'm calm, I'm guilt free. A year since the outbreak happened and my hands are clean and my conscience is clear.

I travelled with just my dog Molly. My wife died in the initial outbreak...she was shot by our neighbor. Molly managed to make it to the car in all of the craziness. Kids screaming and crying, zombies just....shuffling about and attacking. It broke my heart but Molly made it through. She managed to stick by my side the whole time as we snuck to the car.

When we saw this place, we were surprised. It was empty. Desolate. Quiet. This was our new home. Abandoned factory that was surrounded by barb wire fencing made things feel safe. Plenty of trees, nice soil, and even a lake. There will be no problems setting up shop here.

People began trickling in after we made the sign. They're frustrated, angry, and depressed. We've built something amazing. A city like no other left in the world. There's a market, there's a movie theatre (that's right, we've got working electricity), people have jobs, people have homes, people have meanings. We've created a city like no one remembers. We've crossed out the sign that was up before. It was supposed to be some futuristic attraction but over "Tomorrow" we simply sprayed "Yesterday".

Welcome to YesterdayLand"

Like everyone I'd always known the people around me would die, it's just a fact I preferred to keep unthought of. Pre apocalypse I'd always be a world away from admitting bad events happen. Even my health I ignored and depicted as a loveable character flaw. Now however I empower myself to not be the dear in the headlights. My defence is peeling off slowly tormenting me and making me look through the space in my curtain.

My breath no longer becomes mine. I sit in my ruination with my fingernails scratching my head in repetition. I look through the dirty glass of my room and watch. Watch the people and the person I love became a hallow shell. I marvel at the present moment. Jakes arms and flesh dangle at his sides. His dead pan eyes case the house in a dumbstruck tone. The monotone moan muffles through the cat door where my ginger cat Rites used to pass.

I breath though my nose making sure he can't hear my sobs. I wish for music but all I would get on the radio is a static hiss. My options range from dying in bed until I starve or going out into a contaminated environment. Worries race through my head. How would I travel without getting bitten? Is there anything to indicate how people catch this to begin with? Where is safe?

I'm hopelessly neurotic, preferring to always stay within bounds. I peer up at Jack from the space in the curtain and wonder if he can smell something. Me? The next meal? Is he "dying" for his next meal?

I grab a pillow and rest my forehead on the floor. I slowly close my eyes, deciding this will be last moment I have to sleep before I become a person I never wanted to be. Someone who tomorrow will smell the possible decay throughout the streets. Someone tomorrow who will abandoned my old town. Someone who will kill so she won't killed.

Hello guys. I kknow you haven't seen me before, but this may be the last ttime you see me. There's a larrge reasson for that. I'm already dead.

I still have some form of hold over my brrain, unusually, but I'm slowly slipping. I am now colour-blind, and my eyesight is slowly being lost. I have become weaker in the legs, and stronger in my arms, although my fingers are weakening also, which may explain why I am typing with one hand. The problem is, I wiill soon be taaken by the force. I was bitten only a day ago, and have been slowly developing into something horrible. My lovely wife and son are in the other room, and they have been doing everything they can to help me in the time that I am still mmyself. I don't want to hurt them. I don't want them to see what I will beccome. So, I'm goiing to let you make the choice. I have a pistol right next to me, and I'm contemplating taking my life to save theirss. I'm so scared, but I know you can make the right choicce. There is a chance I will survive thiss, so I'm even more scared about that. You choose. Because I... I can't.

They're gone. All of them. I'm not sure who else to think of. Whoever was still here is gone. I don't care what you say. I don't care if they're walking around outside. To me, I know that they are gone. But I'm fine. I think that the door is locked, but I don't want to go check. I just keep hearing scratching. It's subtle, but it's the only thing that breaks the silence.

Scritch Scratch

Scritch Scratch

Scritch Scratch

But they don't scratch. That's the thing. I don't think that they can even use their hands. They just... hunger. That's all they feel and all they know. The deep, ravenous, HUNGER. I learned that the hard way. You know, when it started I knew it sounded familiar. Weird stories on the news. Chilling noises at night. But one day it just spread. Like a goddamn wildfire. I was there when one of them took my sister. Walking home from school. It was 2 hours before the government declared a state of emergency. I don't know why we decided to walk home. My sister saw something in the bushes. It looked like a doll. I felt as though I shouldn't let her touch it but by then it was too late. She ran towards the doll. She didn't know that the kid that owned the doll was standing a couple of feet away. She picked it up and went to the kid. I guess you can imagine what happened next. The kid was one of them. She was all over my sister and I just... stood there.

Scritch Scratch

Scritch Scratch

I froze. Like I'm frozen now. Sitting all useless in my house

Scritch Scratch

Scritch Scratch

I don't know what to do anymore

Scritch Scratch

Scritch Scratch

I'm going downstairs

Scritch Scratch

Scritch Scratch

I guess they can use their hands

Scritch Scratch

Scritch Scratch

I don't know why I do this anymore. It's been months since I logged onto a computer. Most of the tech down in the south has been on the fritz anyway. Last I responded from the Carolinas (not so sure which one) 3 months ago to a shelter in Dallas. Mikey there said they had a whole community safeguarded from the undead, weapons, medicine, walls.

I should've known that was too good to be true because here I am at the smoldering once-haven after 87 days of hitching exactly one car ride and soloing every leg of the walk myself. The map app called it a 16 day hike, well there you go. I was more than comfortable in some of the shelters I encountered but nothing safe can last.

Im so tired of talking about it. I've lost too many people. Are they even people? or just tools? Why is it Im the only one that ever makes it out? Is this some cosmic game, or the Truman Show?

It's more than uncanny that the P.I. outlived over 10 military veterans, 4 police officers, multiple doomsday preppers and a federal agent. Along with the various communities I've suffered through and survived with.

I mean, is this really it? Years of survival and I earn one more chance to post my thoughts to an iPhone plugged into a wall for God knows how long?

This is Dallas for Christ's sake! Where are you people? Just one more post or a comment so I know this isn't futility. And where are the undead now? What is the point of me being left? Is it over? Did I survive, alone?

What if that's it then? The undead were a systematic and coordinated plan by some higher entity to eliminate every individual human from the planet with just enough numbers that they too would be eliminated by the humans they hunted. What if that was mother nature's plan all along? Starting from scratch...

"Hello, hello? Check one two, check one two. My Microphone is working fine... And, what do you know? My camera is dead."

"Fuck it, who wants to stare at me as I talk anyway. Maybe just the voice will make it more appealing. Regardless, I am going to tell you guys just how the world went to hell. Or at least, for me. And get this, it all happened in one day. One fucking day? Isn't that something..."

"Sorry, I don't normally swear like that. This whole situation is just... It's getting to all of us, you know? Anyway, today, was the day everything ended. Or, depending on your perspective, everything began. Now, you can't exactly see me, but I am of medium height and build. Nothing to marvel at. How I survived the first day is beyond me, but I won't complain. I'm twenty three, with dirty blonde hair, and blue eyes. Kinda like an Aryan who's been dumped off in the Sonoran Desert. But, how I look isn't that relevant I guess, or at least not for now."

"You guys aren't here to hear me talk about myself either. You want to hear the juicy stuff. I don't know who's behind the monitor listening to this right now, but I'll warn you. Stuff might get a little bit rough. It's only been a day, and I've seen more than enough already. So, NSFW warning I guess."

"Eight hours ago, Long Island had its first contact. Now, Stony Brook being Stony Brook, it immediately went under military occupation. Students were sent back to their dorms, and the students who didnt have dorms were placed in the cafeteria center."

"Personally, I didn't go down there. I've heard a little bit of stuff, and watched a whole lot. I've been peaking through my blinds spying on these military guys all day. The grass is littered with orange tents. Ambulances are dropping bodies onto the pavement, and golfcarts are bringing them to the lab. Golfcarts. Well, they arent exactly golfcarts, but you get the gist."

"Three hours ago? That is where shit started to get fucked up. I'm watching these guys, right? It is utter chaos down there. Military are scrambling left and right, and I shit you not every minute or so, at least two gunshots went off."

"So, ever since this shit started, there has been this group of kids who have taken it upon themselves to "protest" this occupation. How the fuck do you protest property that isn't yours? And the guys they are protesting have guns for fuck's sake. Not to mention I am sure martial law is in some effect here. A-anyway, three hours ago, when the first shot went off, people went insane. Everybody was running everywhere, and I noticed, the girl leading the protesters get a little close to a SWAT truck. She saw something in there I didn't, and I guess it saw her. She inched toward the back of the truck, before climbing in."

"Maybe, three seconds later, she came running out, blood running from her hand. Amidst the chaos, one of the soldiers ran over to her, pressed the gun against her head, and dropped her to the floor. She zip-tied her hands together, and chucked her on top of one of the bodies on a golf cart, stilling screaming. Then, she hopped in it and drove away."

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I learned one of the more important lessons in this new world. Don't bleed. Everybody after that who ran around bleeding got the protester treatment."

"Eventually, stuff calmed down. The military figured their shit out, and got everything under control. I've been watching them scan the perimeter of this wing of an hour now, and about half an hour ago, this medic comes in, takes my temperature, checks me out, and leaves."

"So, I look through my peephole for once. See were this dudes off too. And when I see what's on the dorm opposite mines door, this situation hits me like a ton of bricks."

"In neon green spray paint, an X is drawn across the door. I take and step outside, and look at my own. Nothing. My other neighbors doors? Nothing. Poor bastard."

Running from these things was getting me no where. I had to find some place to rest and eat before I became the next meal.

"Jake, why did you suggest this place? Why couldn't you just agree with me and head south?" I panted to myself as I remembered my dead friend.

We had been walking through this town, arguing over our next course of action, when I told him to shut up and hide behind a car. Since we had just been arguing he got upset and only raised his voice...he didn't make it. I shook my head and nearly tripped over a root in the forest. I ran between some trees and cried out as I cut myself on a low-hanging branch. I didn't dare touch it now. Not with my hands covered in the blood of my friend and the zombies I managed to kill in order to get away. I risked a look and felt queasy..it got me better than I thought it did.

"Don't you stop now, Sil. Don't you dare stop," I told myself as I panted. "You can't die now. Not after they gave their lives for yours so keep running."

I ran through the trees and brush until I saw it. An opening to a clearing that could mean life or death. I looked back at the group of zombies behind me and then I looked in front of me. I decided a clearing would mean too much of a risk and ran alongside it in the trees instead of going straight through it. I ran and tried to find a way out. I remembered something my dad used to tell me. Something about rising above a situation? It gave me an idea I had dismissed earlier, but it could be worth a shot. Only problem was finding a tree that I could actually climb. I ran along the clearing some more and heard a creek. I smiled softly to myself and ran towards the noise. It got louder and I broke through the trees to see a creek leading into a river. I looked behind me and saw the zombies were farther back. No chances. I looked down at river and followed the creek back up to where I was. I sighed and then took the quickest way down. I checked my backpack, and my satchel quickly before I jumped into the river. My eyes widened as I neared the water. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I straightened out and hit the water. I stayed under and opened my eyes gradually before swimming to shore. I broke the surface and coughed as I climbed ashore. I looked up and couldn't see zombies anywhere. I looked back up at where the creek was and the zombies that had followed me couldn't seem to find me. I calmed my breathing and got up shakily. I looked at my reflection in the water and washed my face off.

"That, was the dumbest thing you could have possibly done," I told my reflection. I took off my backpack and satchel to look for my first aid kit.

When I found it I washed off my arm and then bandaged it as best as I could. Once satisfied it wouldn't get infected I looked through my other things. My MRE's were fine, my water bottles were fine and nothing leaked, which meant the only things that got wet were some of the clothes I had taken from a Wal-Mart at that town. I sighed and repacked everything after I changed into some dry clothes from my backpack. I took a drink from an unopened bottle and felt more relaxed. I looked around the river and decided to follow it downstream. If I remembered correctly this should take me to another town. Assuming that the map I had viewed in the last one was accurate enough. Either I went from Redding to Chico or Redding to Eureka I wasn't about to complain. I needed to get somewhere at least and following any of the Californian rivers should take me somewhere. I just wouldn't know where until I got there.

By now it was time to travel with some height advantage. I climbed a redwood and started to scale them. It was hard and slowed me down quite a lot, but I got away from some stragglers by doing so. As it grew dark I set up a small camp and put some herbs into my lamp like my mom had taught me. She claimed burning lavender or other plants would help get rid of bugs. So I did this with two oil lamps I carried around in my satchel and set them above me as I stayed under my tarpaulin-tent improvisation. I ate one of my remaining MRE's and drank some water before I went to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be another long day.

"Alright. Let's be clear right now. When he wakes up, no names. We go by codes," I said.

"Got it," Eric said without hesitation.

"You," I pointed to the guy who had helped me before. "Crow. As in Bar."

"You," I pointed to the guy I had hit in the nose with my rifle. "Pinocchio." He rolled his eyes.

"Eric is Switch." Eric nodded. "And I," I drew my knife, "am Blade."

We waited for about an hour as zombies shambled toward the house here and there. Crow took care of them with ease while Eric and I watched the guy with the Mohawk. I knew his type as soon as he walked in. Punk. Couldn't get by in life, so he got to stealing from gas stations and fucking anything that walked. Of course, society was never a fan of that. And so he hated society. Batted for the revolution side of things, listened to a lot of anti-government death metal, and smoked enough weed to put Bob Marley under the table. Probably killed his fair share of other punks from the same walk of life who stepped up and told him he was a bitch. No, he wasn't super young. Late twenties, early thirties. But inside? He was a teenager, going through a rebellious stage that the apocalypse fueled like gasoline.

Granted, he wasn't the boss of the group. He was, in essence, just another peon for some hotshot who dealt meth and beat his wife. Or maybe was an accountant who could only stifle the boredom by murdering kids in his basement and selling the pictures to salivating creeps in the darkest depths of the internet. Regardless of the boss' origin story, this kid was a punk. And he was a punk who became a pawn, because passion is easily manipulated.

He woke up delirious with blood leaking down his chin. I smiled at him viciously. "No, no, no, let me out!"

"Not yet buddy. Gonna ask you a few questions." I grabbed his jacket and pulled it down to his wrists so that his torso was bare. An anarchy A was tattooed on his right breast. "You're gonna tell the truth, or I'm gonna saw you in half. Capisce?"

"Fuck you!" He spat in my direction, but there wasn't enough wind in his lungs to reach my face. I knelt down in front of him.

"You know, before you showed up, I was killing zombies with this knife." He squirmed now, panic painted on his face like a beautiful portrait. "Now, don't worry. I cleaned it, so you won't be getting infected if I decide to start taking chunks out of you." He calmed down a bit, but still fought in the spot. "However, I like to clean my knife with bleach. Keeps it shiny." His eyes were dinner plates now. He was fighting so violently that if I didn't know my own equipment, I'd be scared he would break free. "You ever been cleaning something with bleach, and forgotten about that paper cut you had? It's a wild ride. One I don't wanna have to send you down."

"You're fucking crazy!" he yelled. "Somebody get him away from me!"

He kicked and cried frantically. Eric stepped to my side and swung his hand, slapping the punk hard with the back of it. The kid shut up quick then. "Thanks, Switch."

"Yep."

"Who's in charge?" I asked the punk.

"What?"

I pushed the tip of my knife ever so slightly into his chest, just below the clavicle. Just enough pressure to draw a single, bright drop of blood. And he screamed. "Don't fuck with me! You did such a sloppy job I know you aren't the head honcho! Who is he?"

"Please, please, God damn it I don't know!"

I pulled the knife away and slapped him the same way Eric did. "Pull yourself together, kid. It only gets worse from here."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Nobody but a guy with a knife." And I slapped him again.

I jumped on the man and put my hand over his mouth. I saw the shock register in his eyes, and he bit my hand and took advantage of my recoiling to throw me off of him. He saw my crowbar leaning against the wall and leaped - more like fell, I suppose - off the couch and started towards it.

"Don't take another fucking step." Jon said, pulling his gun on the guy. He stopped and put his hands up, facing them.

I stood up and grabbed my crowbar, looking warily at the guy.

"Let's just get out of hear and leave them to sort this out, man." Eric said, grabbing Jon's shoulder. Jon sighed and lowered his gun and turned towards the hole in the wall. They were about to leave when a small metal cylinder rolled in through the hole.

"What the fuck?" The unnamed man shouted, and I thought the same thing until I saw Jon and Eric look back at us with panic.

I knew what it was before Jon shouted it. "Fucking flashbang!" He yelled, and I dived to the ground, sure to keep my crowbar in my hand. I closed my eyes tight, but my hearing was still completely taken away when the flashbang went off. I opened my eyes and it still took me a few seconds to adjust, and I looked around. The unnamed dude had his eyes closed and he was stumbling around - I' m assuming he didn't look away in time - and Jon and Eric were in the corner with their backs turned and their hands over their ears. They turned around, Eric holding the pistol out and Jon aiming a rifle, and I stood up.

Three guys with machine guns pushed in, aiming them at all of us. They had torn up leather jackets, with spikes on them, and one of them had the circle-A anarchy symbol on the back in chalk. He, who I assumed to be the leader, had a mohawk that was dyed green, and a lip piercing. The other two had close-cut hair dyed red and blue, respectively.

The one with the mohawk laughed as he came in, and his two goons dropped to a knee and aimed at Jon and Eric and flipped their safeties off. Jon and Eric dropped their weapons and held their hands up, and I saw the guy who we didn't know drop down and crawl behind a couch before they turned on me.

I dropped my crowbar so it went behind the couch as well and put my hands up. "Listen man, I'll do whatever you want, just don't fucking shoot us."

The two goons grabbed Jon and Eric and forced them to their knees, pointing the guns at the back of their heads. Mohawk-guy was pacing, with a revolver in his hand.

"Listen, cocksucker, I could sit here and say I don't want to kill you, but that wouldn't be true. Truth is, all this shit is the perfect chance for us to kill whoever the fuck we want. Plus, we're gonna be out of food eventually, so-"

Before this asshole could finish, what's-his-name popped out from behind the couch and hurled my crowbar across the room. It hit mohawk-fucker in the head and he dropped, and when his goons aimed up at him, I grabbed my gun from my waist and dropped them.

Jon grabbed his pistol and ran over to the mohawk dude, who was bleeding from his head but still alive. He kicked the revolver over towards us, and what's-his-name picked it up. Eric ran over with the rifle and pointed it at the mohawk asshole, but Jon grabbed the barrel of the gun.

"I wanna ask this guy some questions when he comes to." Jon pulled a cable tie from around his belt, where I could see he had a few more. (Note to self: Find some of those, that's a good idea.) He tied the guy's hands behind his back and sat him against a wall.

We've been checking outside for zeds and waiting for mohawk guy to come to ever sense. We moved some bookshelves and chairs to barricade the hole a little bit, and it seems pretty safe.

It seems like the more time goes by, the less I encounter survivors.

I've been a lone wolf ever since the outbreak. I don't know much about what's going on, I just know that I'm alive and I'll stop at nothing to keep it that way. I've been watching my own back and stepping over anyone or, anyTHING for a long time now. It is starting to become a lonely existence. I've taken to speaking to these dying creatures if only to get my thoughts out to open ears, even if their only function is to listen for prey.

I've always been an outsider and before the outbreak I was diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder, the proper term for psychopath. I enjoy the slow killing and torture of these creatures. I have no problem doing anything I deem necessary to survive. However, it's become an existence of solitude and I'm looking for some kind of intelligent conversation as well as starting to accept the saying, "There is strength in numbers."

This life is difficult but at least I can show my true colors and kill with little to no consequence. I do, however, understand that human companionship of any kind has become a rarity that even a psychopath can now appreciate while still being able to fulfill my dark needs freely on these creatures.

I think because of my natural need to inflict pain, I have found a balance that I can happily cause harm to these monsters while still understanding the need to preserve genuine human life. This outbreak has not caused me to be any less of a sadistic psychopath, but has allowed me to develop a code of sorts. The monsters get my wrath, while I can respect and do no harm to the living.

I am looking to find out if there is anyone still out there. Am I alone? Is anyone out there?

May I please start by adding the I live in a rural area and that there is not a constant high threat of Zombies in my area.

I live in a rural village called Willow Heath, before the apocalypse there was a population of about 200 but many returned to Family elsewhere in the country so only about fifty remain. We are a close nit community and send out scouts to detect zombie activity (we do have a quad copter but with the recent bad weather our solar power cell is struggling to charge it). When we detect large zombie hoards it seems we take a different approach to the majority of the population, we go up. Most houses in the village are atlas two storeys high but we have built and found ladders to get us up, which convert into bridges to move us about. There is a crate of long lasting food on the top of each side of each street, usually in the middle. When zombies come we wait it out.

We have people to shoot and kill zombies until we can safely come down. In total we have only lost 4 out of 57, so we feel it works well. I feel it best to inform you of this strategy as it is much safer than a fight. Some zombies, however, can climb ladders so do not make routes to the roof permanent, Zombies can't climb the house so just make sure you don't fall off ;).

Again I'm from the country so do be careful in cities, we have ventured into one and some rooftops were occupied by zombies who came up stairs... we killed them.

Good Luck Willow Heath Community

I kicked myself for not leaving the intruder to be eaten. It was a blur of blood. Someone else came into the house and helped. My friend, finally downstairs, was less than useful but more than useless at dealing with zombies, but I was relieved he had decided to help.

A brief reprieve from the horde. I caught the other man I didn't know eyeing the unconscious one's body. The keys. A zombie stumbled into the room, and he went to deal with it. Slyly, I slid the keys into my own pocket and returned to my original position. No one noticed.

"What's your name?" he asked as he turned around. I picked the first pair that came to mind. My friend and I never give out our real names. But he didn't need to know that.

"I'm Jon." My friend knew which pair I chose.

"Eric." he says.

"Jon. Eric. Nice to meet you."

"You too," I said. I didn't bother to ask his name. I wasn't bothering to get to know anyone here. "Take care of that one." I point to the unconscious intruder. "We're out of here."

"Just like that?"

"There's plenty more where that came from. We have to get out while we still can."

"What about him?"

"He's not my problem."

"You knocked him out didn't you?"

"He destroyed our home. He can die here for all I care. We need to think about ourselves, and finding a new home." Just then, the unconscious man shot up and began screaming.

I was in the middle of looking through some kitchen cabinets when I heart a collision come from down the street.

"What the fuck?" I whispered to myself and turned my head. I pulled my pistol from my waistband and checked the mag. Eight shots. I put it back in and grabbed my crowbar and slowly eased my way out the front door. I slowly walked down the street to where I heard the collision.

"Holy shit," I said under my breath. A Hummer had crashed through the front of a house and zombies were swarming towards it.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO YOU FUCKING DUMBASS?" I heard somebody yell from inside. "Jesus fucking Christ..." The guy kept calling for someone to come downstairs. I dropped to a crouch and slowly made my way close enough to look through a window. The guy who had been shouting was dragging an unconscious person away from the zombies, with a rifle over his shoulder and a hunting knife in his hand.

"Fuck," I mutter to myself, and started to move across the street. The zombies were starting to clog up as they all tried to move through the one hole in the wall, and I started to sprint through them. I used my crowbar to take down any that got in my way, and eventually I made it into the living room.

The guy through the unconscious one onto a couch and turned with his knife, only to find a Z at his throat. I ran forward and plunged my crowbar into its skull and threw the body down. The dude nodded and we turned to dispatch the rest of the zombies.

His friend ran down with a machete. "What the living fuck?" He shouted, and kicking a zed back. He started swinging at any that got too close to him, and before long we had thinned the herd out enough so that there were only a few left outside that had fallen and weren't able to get back up. I leaned my crowbar against the wall and used my shirt to wipe sweat off of my forehead.

The other two moved away from me and started whispering. I looked at the guy knocked out on the couch, and noticed the Hummer keys glinting from his pocket.

I could take it and go, get out of here before anything happened. I didn't have much food with me, but I'd make do. I realized quickly that being in a group gave me a better chance of surviving nowadays, so I just leaned against the wall and waited for the other two to come back over.

Hello and welcome survivors! This is Elliot signing in and brining your Z-FM, this Apocalypse's best radio show!

I have just been in contact with a survivor who is in dire need of help! Him and his wife are trapped in a town near Barrie, so anybody in that area who can help I ask you, nay! I beg you to consider helping them!

Now for a tune to lighten your mood!

Finally, that hoard I reported heading South as now dispersed thankfully, I hope nobody was harmed, but if anybody was, you have my condolences.

This is Elliot on Z-FM signing off, and remember: keep your volume down, and your guard up!

Greetings survivors! welcome to Z-FM! Today is a momentous day survivors, as today is the first broadcast of Z-FM, always on 105.01!

Before I tell you my story, here is a little tune to brighten your day, just remember to turn your radio down, and your guard up!

You may be wondering why I am broadcasting, well to be honest, I am trapped here. But don't worry! I have plenty of food, and I have adequate protection from the dead, so don't you worry.

Now a quick PSA! From what I can see there is a hoard heading south, so remember to hunker down wherever you are and wait it out! Be sure to radio me when it has cleared, I would feel better knowing I have saved some people!

That's all I have time for today, so remember survivors! Keep the volume down, and your guard up!

We're in Toronto, it took us a while but we're here!

Maybe we can find a lab or something?

It's warmer here, it makes foraging for food and supplies easier, but there are more... Creatures out there.

If anyone can hear this, please respond, it's just the two of us, we won't harm you.

My wife is a scientist - I think she can help, we just need to find a working lab or some sort of Government structure

We're loading up, it's just like in the movies. A few shotguns and handguns in a little glass cabinet. I need to get my wife to a major city, Toronto is the closest one, to figure things out, I don't know, maybe there's a lab there or something.

The nearest small city is a 45 minute car journey away, half a days walk if we can't find a working car.

And the cold, oh god the cold, the barometer says -16, add in -10 windchill. I don't know how we will survive. At least it has kept the creatures at bay.

I refuse to believe what I'm seeing.

If you're listening we're going to be in Barry by an estimated 3PM this afternoon. We're walking unless we find a car on the way.

If you're listening: My name is Jake, be safe.

It's just me and my wife now, alone, trapped in this godforsaken tiny town.

Lucky these backwaters places still have those old radio wave broadcasters, how the fuck did we survive before the internet?

We need to get home, desperately, we need to get across the oceans.

There was 5 of us originally, we got safe, here in the police station, people got lazy, careless, the...

Things...

Creatures...

They got them all.

I think my wife can help, she's a biologist, but neither of us know where to start.

If any humanity out there still remains, please, we just want to go home.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised it's gotten this difficult, most of the city is divided by fences, so residential areas are relatively safe unless They are outside their homes. I've never been athletic, always been a bit of a nerd, so it was easy for me to trace the plan just as the outbreak hit. Sadly, stupidly, my family didn't really consider my planning, or even my calling them back home to be secure to be anything valuable... And so, this house with all it's food was all just for me... Sucks to be alone, i heard the last of my neighbors screaming this morning.

Is it really that hard to stay inside? To not make that much noise? These houses are made of stone, only an idiot would willingly leave them to bre greeted by Them. Well... I AM leaving, but only because i need more supplies. There was this friend of mine, lives (lived?) about 8 blocks from here and his house is even harder to penetrate, but i worry if it's ok to stop by, as hard as it is to enter, going out if needed would be much much harder.

I was at the university when all this started, hanging out with my friends, then we heard this woman crying, completely covered in blood and yelling she was running from a rapist bunch that even went as far as biting her. It was damn hot that day, yet all of us froze at the image. It was the biomedical sciences institute, and so, many students rushed to ty and aleviate her pain, rushed her to the nursery and we just started talking about it. I made sure my exSO got to safety since she was on the streets, she got home for the day, as it was risky to walk around with a bunch of psycho-rapists and she was done with classes anyway. My friends and i usually gather near one of the parking lots with a good view of the nursery, so when we heard even more yelling comming out of it, we rushed to check what was happening. So did many others and we got to the last row, so we couldnt clearly see, someone opened the nursery room, yelled atop of his lungs and everyone started running, we couldnt see anything, so we got closer to the door (yeah, poor judgement) and saw the woman biting her way thru the nurse's aid, the nurse was on the floor next to them, face-down on a pool of blood. I reckon we are essentially the gamer-geek-otaku-comic fan kind of group, so after the first few seconds of shock, i felt someone pulling me from behind, snapping me out of it. ¨Zombies, run!¨ Said my friend, there was 5 of us there, everyone left ASAP, i realized the incident was really centric, i didn't have time to go get all of my friends, so i went for the closest and en-route to the car had them call and warn the others that, again, hardly believed anything, a few did believe us, others i got calls from later, asking if we were safe and in the event of my lab partner, ended the call screaming. The streets were a mess, not even sure cars really helped that much, i tried using the smaller streets to avoid the main flux of people... well... i did find a lot of people on those, the images we saw on the way home were gory to say the least. My truck, formerly blue, was now coated in red, but we made it as close as possible to the crossroads that leads to my house and my friends', the zone seemed secure, so i dropped him off, the area was totally safe, so i trust he'll be okay, and went home, started calling my family and got stuck here. This was all 3 weeks ago.

I placed my truck in front of the garage door, horizontally, should make breaking it down way harder and just hid. I tried helping my neighbors, but they all tried to leave and ended up forming part of Them. I hardly think running towards something that never gets tired, bites your arm off and never seems to be damageable is something smart, but i guess desperation does that, gets you killed. After i realized my family just wasn't getting home, i really got depressed, thought about jumping in with Them (see? Desperation), but realized i still have people to protect: Her, Arthur (who lives close-by), and find Ed, who is most assuredly alive and well at his house (sometimes even he has trouble to get in, it's THAT fortified). But first, i need supplies and some sort of protection, have you ever thought a suit of armor could allow you to walk around like nothing? Sure, They would hear you, but unless you let 12 of them sit on you to crush you, you're golden. But there are no suit of armors here, this was Juarez, not London. I think i'll have to kill my neighbors one at a time, maybe a broomstick and a knife would do the trick, poke them from the ceilings, then browse the neighborhood, i guess. But that's gonna be tomorrow, i have to finish checking out my own house, finding this journal really allowed me to concentrate on stuff, like a checklist or something. For anything i can pray to, i really hope that They can't run, else i'll die on my way around the city. Yeah, i think this can work, i just have to play it smart, not taking the first option i see, but rather the most efficient one... whatever, worst case scenario i can be a part of Them... Eew... NOT AN OPTION

To do list:

Find a weapon with long reach, make one if possible

Thin their numbers

Search the neighborhood for whatever's useful

Check up on her

Gather a team (No more than 6 total, else there'd be issues)

+Ed +Rob +Arthur +Sarah +???

Find a long-term shelter and thin Them out as much as we can

Get another journal

Write as long as I can

So I'm sitting here in this office building, city below me. Nothing much really happening, walkers crawling through the streets and floors below me. I secured the top three floors and the roof of this building. I'm all alone though, and food is running out. Things are going to change soon. I can feel a kind of tension in the air ... I need to get my supplies together.

Previous

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO YOU FUCKING DUMBASS?!" I yelled as the man dropped in my living room. I realized almost instantly he wouldn't be answering me. "Jesus fucking Christ..." I grunted as I pulled the rifle out from under him. He had grabbed for it on the way down, just moments too late. "Man, get your fucking ass down here NOW!"

He didn't come at first, so I focused on the hole in the wall. There were already three coming through. I kicked the unconscious man and reached for my belt. I took the shin guards I had found three weeks ago and pulled them over my arms. I shouldered my rifle and drew my hunting knife. Bullets were a dying resource at this point. "I'm not fucking kidding, dude! Get downstairs or we're both dead!" I heard the man on the floor grumble something, likely incoherent.

I stabbed the first one with an uppercut under the chin. Then the next in the temple. The next had no jaw, so I grabbed it and threw it into the advancing four to buy time. "Shit, damn it, fuck" was all that was in my head. Finally, my so called friend stumbled down the stairs with a dumbstruck look on his face. "Don't just stand there, asshole! Help me!"

Audio transcript #1 Subject 803 March 8, 2016 8:38 PM

sighs

We lost Mark today. He was checking 'round the fences, looking for any structural insecurities. Fucking wall of 'em fell right on him. Don't know what killed him, the weight or the bites. Either way, it's the third this week. With Mark gone, people've been looking at me as the new engineer. I tried telling them I was just a mechanic, but apparently that amounts to engineer around here.

Damn.

Still haven't told anyone about Katie yet. Can't let 'em know. They'd kill her.

yawns

Better be getting to bed.

Haven’t been out in a few days. My last outing was…eventful, to say the least. I was able to gather provisions, adequate for a week or so, but they know where I am now. Guess I got a little too comfortable with the situation and it came back to bite me in the ass. It’s unsettling to think what a person can become “comfortable” with. I’ve been fine with the slower, isolated ones or smaller groups. I’m decently nimble and can evade them. But a handful have begun to adapt. Not sure if they’ve somehow learned it from watching us or if it’s a natural adaptation, but they’ve now learned to run. “Natural” adaptation. Doesn’t quite fit but, I’ll go with it. Everyone in my apartment building has either fled or, I’m sure, been turned themselves. “We have to stick together!” I warned, but my neighbors were never really known for their acts of solidarity. Always bitching and bickering amongst themselves. I always watched and listened from my own solitary bubble. I’d be surprised to find that just one of them has survived up to now. Relieved, sure, but I’m not optimistic. Funny how situations change but the dynamic always remains steady. As a kid I remember visiting a dairy farm. The stalls where the cows were kept were filled with an overriding stench of animal feces and urine. Burned my eyes. The smell that now fills this place is far worse. Similar, but with that added aroma of rot, a combination that I could never accurately describe. The smell gets sharper near the door and I can hear movement in the hall from time to time. Slow, labored shuffling and the occasional dull thud against my door just to make sure I don’t get too “comfortable” again. The lesson could’ve been much more hard-learned, I guess, or perhaps the lesson hasn’t yet ended.

The police have started enforcing martial law here. They've been breaking into people's houses, beating people who protest, tightening their grip on rations, etc.

Anyways, me and my little brother, my best friend, and his wife are taking the van and leaving. We've got about two weeks worth of food and a hunting rifle. We're heading south into Mexico. Fingers crossed that it's still safe.

Still in the twin cities, haven't been on in a while, no power and i just got over a bad infection (non zed) im surprised im not dead. My advise watch your soundings a sharp edge can cause more damage then just an open wound. I was out for a week, i woke up dehydrated and malnourished i ended up drinking most my water that day. the area around my hide out was restocked with zed (two months of clearing down the drain) i found a newly abandoned vehicle, it had a working battery so i got my things charged. will try and keep in touch.

The zombies in Troy are acting weird. One is mowing his lawn, one is delivering mail, one is walking an empty stroller and a few are holding their hands out while one holds a ball. It's like some form of humanity still exists in their heads and they feel a sense of ownership to carry out what they did before they turned, like in Land of the Dead.

I am going to the edge of my property to safely interact with one. Wish me luck and I'll keep you posted.

Rushing to keep up with my professor through the dark hallways in the dead of night felt like we were conspiring together, like she was including me on some big secret. She'd called my mobile before but usually nothing could snap her out of the sleepy way that she tumbled through life, at first I thought I heard excitement over the phone, but when she quickly let me into the lab and quietly shut the door behind her, I thought I saw a hint of fear in her eyes. I mean, she was ALIVE, I've done a little speed before (just to get ahead of the curve for studies), but it looked like she jacked up ten fucking seconds ago. She was wired, twitches and all.

Anyway, she beckoned and rushed off, casting long shadows from her swinging lantern. As I followed her down the hall it occurred to me 'where is security?' At Hopefalls University they took security very seriously, so the absence really should have clued me in, but ah well, not every day you break in with your professor, at the very least this'll probably make a good story.

We descended a few flights of stairs and turned off into the biochem labs, being a psych major myself, I had no fucking idea what she wanted me for but needless to say my interest was peaked. Months ago she first became interested in me after the riot I allegedly started (I admit nothing) and ever since then would let me follow her about and carry shit, make notes, that sort of thing, I didn't really get it but I think it was her own way of sticking it to education board, I never asked because all it meant to me was brownie points with her hot worshipers, which there was plenty of.

The frosted glass windows in the hall flew by as I struggled to keep up with her pace, we spun around a corner and I slipped on a small puddle next to a broken coffee mug, I put my hand down in time but got the thin liquid all over me in the process. I'm ashamed to admit but I was pretty puffed out at this point, and the novelty was seriously wearing off now I had a lame ass coffee stain on my only light blazer, so I rushed ahead toward the room she'd entered and prepared myself to demand to know what the fuck was going on.

I spun around the door and copped a face full of lantern, nearly jumped in fright, 'You scared the shit out of me' I said. She stood there with the lantern held up practically touching her ear, if not for the dilating pupils I wouldn't know if she were even alive, she stood so still I swear she wasn't even breathing. She said 'You're into zombies, aren't you?' I blushed immediately, god damn involuntary- 'Ye- not really, why?' So much for demanding answers. 'I'm a fucking IT professor don't tell me you thought those pathetic proxies meant privacy over the schools net, if anything they advertise that you've got something to hide.' I panicked, adrenaline spiked and she said 'cut the shit, I know what you are, you know what you are, there's no point denying. The question is, are you going to help me, or do I have to send a very concerned email to your parents?'

SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT I'm being blackmailed by a fucking professor! And she's not even that hot! 'What do you want?' the words felt like hot lead. 'You have to help me.' 'With fucking what?' 'My car is parked out the back, I.. You gotta promise not to tell anyone.' 'What happened to Miss Baddass Blackmail just tell me what the fu-' 'I killed Joe.' 'What, like, one of the lab rats or something?' I looked around but could barely see anything in the poor light. 'Joe the fucking security guard oh my god what do I even see in you? Sometimes I ask myself honestly.' I couldn't help it, I cracked up. I had to hold the fucking door frame to keep myself balanced, eventually though..

I looked up into her face and saw she was dead serious. 'You're kidding right?' 'Are you really this thick? Look at your fucking hand, Thomas.' She could be so condescending, like my god damn mother. I looked down and the laughter died in my throat, my hand looked like I'd just pulled it out of a fucking axe-wound, a smear of blood ran down my chest where I'd held my stitch in the dark. I looked up at her, that sinking feeling in my face like it wanted to drip off my skull. I wanted to say something witty, something funny at least, but I was fucking scared. 'Look, I sorta, I kinda forgot where I put him.' 'How on e-' 'Shut the fuck up and just help me look will you?' 'Alright alright but give me a fucking lantern then, who even carries lanterns?' Yeah, I can do this, just keep her chatting, wise ass some bullshit and remember not to turn my back on her..

She flicked a switch on the wall and light flooded the lab room, ceramic tiles an off white colour covered the floor and perfectly highlighted the little drips and drops of blood leading to the closet. 'Wait, why the fuck did you do it?' We both cut through the desks toward the closet and the big red stain spreading out from beneath it, my minuscule reserves of courage quickly draining away. 'I mean, if he attacked you or something why not just call the police? Self defense.' I looked at her and caught a flash of guilt before she walked ahead. 'It wasn't self defense, and I wont say why.' 'Well geez you know all my secrets, apparently.' She stood in front of the closet doorway, hand clasped around the handle and said 'Come closer will you? He might fall over.' Every step was agony, I'd seen plenty of photographs of dead people obviously, and even though I always thought I'd be fine when I saw one for real, I just couldn't contain myself. I was more nervous than she was. She started pulling down the handle, twisting it slowly while my muscles wound tighter and tighter. 'Wait!'

She let go and placed the lantern on a nearby desk and glared at me. 'For the fucking morning class to waltz in?' 'I just... god. I've never done this okay? Give me a sec-' Thud. We both froze. Oh my god 'You said you killed him!' 'I did! He wasn't breathing.' 'Well he's not fucking dead now is he? Or is that someone else you just happened to half murder tonight, perhaps the last dumbass to follow you down here?' 'Shut the fuck up and let me think.' 'About what?! If he's okay then there's no problem.' I shoved her out of the way and swung open the door, the poor guy just fell straight to the floor, limbs going everywhere. 'Maybe you gave him brain damage.' I looked down at the back of his head, there was a seriously enormous part of his skull that looked like it shouldn't be where it currently was, I looked over at Ms. K laying on the floor and saw sheer unmitigated terror. The guy grabbed my legs with fingers like steel bands and pulled me to my ass, I whacked my back painfully and sent a desk flying. I grabbed him by his bloody ponytail while he was pulling his head down to my feet so hard that part of his crushed skull just popped right out to dangle from my hand, I screamed my fucking lungs out and kicked his face away with my free foot, scrambled to my feet and grabbed for the broom in the closet when a desk flew down by my face to crash into the gnashing skull at my feet, bone and gore exploded out and Ms K looked like she was riding a fucking eight ball, a vein was even pulsing in the corner of her face, flesh pulled tight over her eyes and she gave me this shit eating grin like I'd expect to see on the face of someone in the middle of a serious ego-melting rush.

I couldn't believe it. 'You're fucking tripping.' She didn't even bother to wipe the grin off her face. 'He sold me some acid.' I wanted to laugh but this shit was just too surreal, even for me. 'You want a tab?' Now, I normally pride myself on my ability to say dumb shit during any situation, but tonight was just too much for me. 'Sure, fuck it.' 'That's the spirit'

Half an hour later the floor was clean, the corpse was happily waiting in the trunk of Ms K's jeep and I was in the middle of a beautiful head rush saying my goodbyes. I made a pass or two at her which she deflected with expert grace and we went our separate ways.

Back in my bed in the dorm my senses pulsed with the insanity of the night that I'd had, this stuff was probably going to last another three or four hours so I figured I'd have a silent one and get introspective, I felt like I had some serious questions I needed to answer about my life. I mean, what does my life even mean? The night was so exciting, between the adrenaline and the high, that I never registered the dull throb. I pulled out my phone and turned on the flash flight, sat up underneath my blanket and pointed the light at my feet. One leg of my jeans was red, my heart started to race, please god no, I begged it not to be true and the feeling, the strange acid tingled heat seemed to strengthen and sharpen, my awareness brought a clarity to the pain and I slowly pulled back the bloody denim, knowing exactly what I would find...

Previous Post at

http://www.reddit.com/r/subredditofthedead/comments/2bgori/what_is_even_going_on_first_entry/

July 25th 2014.

13:14

Jesus Christ, if a zombie were to burst into the room right now I'd be well and truly fucked. I'm sat in my room, roasting away in just my shorts.

The one thing I never anticipated whilst watching The Walking Dead, or playing The Last Of Us was the weather. Yeah, they always take the blistering cold into account, but I've not really seen the zombie killing protagionist go "Whew, hot day!"

Well here we are. 29 degrees in Plymouth, with 70% humidity. I think even the monsters are too hot to eat. Not only am I too scared to sleep, it's simply too hot to. Any it doesn't help that the past two days have been filled with manual work for me.

Yeah, I've been busy. That building stuff I've been referring to earlier has been put to good use. I've broken into the guy downstairs flat, he's not been back, I dunno if he's escaped or died, but his flat is now lacking some food, and supplies (knives, a first aid kit handily, and some other bits and bobs). I've never done brick laying in my life, but I think I've done a pretty decent job at securing front door, I've stripped the floorboards in the corridor and used them as window barricades (My hands are still sore from that).

Really, thank fuck that the builders were around, hammers and such have never been seen in my flat, ever I think without them I'd have just conceded defeat instantly. Again, all this with the heat & humidity I was a sweaty mess. And I'm honestly dreading one of the special suits I've made.

I don't want to, but I know it's just a matter of time until I have to go outside. So I've totally plastered my jeans and jacket in duct tape, layer upon layer of it, hopefully it'll as least stop any scratches and bites should things go to shit. Not really sure what to do about head wear, I guess we'll take the risk.

The window's open, there's a warm gentle breeze flowing through, the streets remain as silent as they've been the past couple days. Yet when I poke my head out to both see what's going on and enjoy the rays of sun, I see them in the distance.

It wasn't just her...god, as if that wasn't bad enough....

She must have gotten bitten when I was gone...

She's such a strong mom, always making sure her kids are good (my kids, fuck, I've never looked at them any differently...all four of them were MY kids...).

I told her, i TOLD her, STAY INSIDE, I'LL BE THERE SOON!

One of them must have needed something, or her cousin next door, SOMEONE important must have knocked on her door, there's NO WAY she would have opened it for anyone that wasn't one of her people...

Fuck, I'm here, sitting in bathroom that connects to our bedroom...looking at the shower we both stepped into...god damn it...the shower i loved her in, kissed her in, watched her step out of hundreds of times....

"She" is banging on the door, growling...scratching at the door..."begging" me in her own way, to let her in...

I just want to be part of my family again!

Fuck it, I'm reaching for the doorknob...

Baby, I'm coming, just hold on one sec while I open the door...