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Unacceptable

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Once there was a boy named Jimmy. He lives in Athens, Georgia and is an average teenager in his third year of high school. He does pretty well in school. He’s very popular, chill, and most of the students like him. Above all interestingly, he likes talking to girls the most. Currently he has a crush on a girl named Breanna. To him she’s his most difficult challenge yet. They chat on MySpace a lot. Part of it was the fact that it seemed that she never had time to talk to him. ‘Why not, I’m a great guy,’ thought Jimmy. That thought was followed by, ‘I bet it’s because she’s busy with other guys’.

One of Jimmys hobbies is gawking At Breannas pics on MySpace. Especially the hot ones. ‘She is so sexy’, he thinks to himself while gawking. Jimmy is known for being sly and smooth with the ladies. Not to mention adept at flirting.

He is careful to maintain his popularity. He veers away from anything or anyone that so much gives off a hint of what has the capability of making him infamous. His best friend at school is named Sam. They pretty much rely on each other for everything. They hang out almost every day and stick with each other when some shit goes down.

Sam implies that he too is into females, but also implies that Jimmys appetite for the girls is too peculiar. ‘give them a second to breathe’ ,he would say. Jimmy always counters that Sam needs to get out more. They were only joking of course.

Jimmy lives with his mother and father. The next door neighbors are immensely acquainted with them you could say. Jimmy loves his mother most above all. He always supported her and is in acknowledgment that she’s a great mother. His father on the other hand was a bit strange. Jimmy loves him, but there is something out of line that he couldn’t put his finger on. He seems to spend too much time at work and comes home acting a bit weird. He also seemed to be having issues with his job. He argued with Jimmy’s mother. Sometimes it was very serious. This makes him curious about what the hell goes around in his fathers work. It stresses him out. Almost more than his younger brother, Max.

Max is two years younger than Jimmy. Their relationship is nowhere near healthy. Perhaps a small factor may be because of the fact Max was adopted. They find it impossible to get along. Even to live together. They argue seemingly 24/7. Every now and then, they’ll come to terms, but not often. They try to keep it out of their social lives at school. Meaning they refrain from establishing their presence to one another. However, one time Max got In the way of Jimmys interactions, and ever since then it’s been a war of revenge per person. Endless wise, Jimmy became sick of it. Max didn’t understand that he had nothing to lose. Jimmy actually interacted in his school. He went out on dates. He was invited to parties. Max didn’t have to deal with any of that. The result of that fact means whenever Jimmy got the chance to humiliate Max and put him down, he took. Max crossed the line. Jimmy made a vow to make Maxes life miserable no matter what.

Max did attempt to make friends, and get a girlfriend such as Jimmy always does. However, every attempt to do so was foiled by Jimmy. Even when Max presented his skills, the crowd usually disowned him. Both personally and in the popularity list. Max had no idea of what to do. He knew his life would always be ruined. The only skills he possessed were minor magic tricks. Jimmy would frequently remind him of what a loser he was. That no one wound ever want him. Jimmy would go deep Into detail. Sometimes the aftermath of the harassment rendered Max consciously hopeless. Even Maxes couple friends he had stayed away from him. Some even never talked to him again. Max seemingly lost all hope.

Max went to rely on the only person who would feel real sympathy for him: Carrie, The neighbors niece. She was very strange. Decently attractive but mentally unstable. One year younger than Max, they hung out almost every time she was over for the holidays and summer time. Max tried his very hardest to conceal his relationship with Carrie. To be sly. He was extremely careful. No telling what horrors Jimmy would spit out if he saw them together.

As Max ranted to Carrie, she apparently fondled with her red hair. She was probably getting nervous or bored. One or the other. They were surprisingly at Maxes house. Everyone was gone for the evening. His mother at a church meeting, his father working, and Jimmy with Sam preparing for the schools event. Strangely, a package arrived. Carrie pointed it out. Max gestured for her to help him open it. It was in a 5 ft well sealed cardboard box.

“What the hell is this?”, said Max. He pulled the mini papers taped onto the front of the package. He checked the destination. Nothing. Then the initial location. Nothing.

They finally got it open.

“What the fuck!”, Exclaimed Max. Carrie got a little frantic.

“I f- fucking hate it”, She said uneasily twisting ends of her hair on each side of her head.

“Who wouldn’t”, replied Max.

“Who and why the fuck would someone send this here”, said Max filled with genuine surprise in his tone.

Carrie replied trembling more than usual.

“Jimmys friends ?”, offered Carrie.

“That’s a good answer, but how the fuck would they have pulled it off? The usp guy just handed this to us”, implied Max.

Max started to feel a cough coming on. His lungs automatically felt irritated. He began to have a coughing fit as if he was dying. Carrie tried to calm him while looking for stuff, but nothing helped. His face became pale and he fainted. Carrie called Max’s parents and they came right over, thanked her, and took Max to the hospital. They ruled it out as an intense asthmatic breakdown due to overwhelming amounts of stress. They didn’t bother to inform Jimmy. That and they knew he probably wouldn’t care.

The night came when Jimmy and Sam went to the high school party/event. Jimmy returned home to find the house empty. He shrugged it off, at first. He thought nothing of it. He got onto his big HD laptop in his room upstairs. Prior to logging in to MySpace, a Yahoo story popped up. He gave it a quick glance and decided to take a peep at the article. It was about the recent disappearances of children in the area. ‘People’, thought Jimmy, shaking his head. Jimmy logged into MySpace and began watching some music videos, checking his messages, and reading interesting blog stories. Soon he began chatting with his crush Breanna. She said she had to go a few minutes after IM chatting. Xoxo was her final signature. Jimmy set his elbow on his desk and put his chin down to his palm. He began browsing the posts and connects on the blog stories. Then he got a story invite. It was labeled #1 hot topic on the site. According to the tags, it was shared many times. The original issuer was not listed. The comments implied the story was creepy and disturbing. As soon as Jimmy clicked to pull it up, another mini page came up. It was pink. ‘WARNING: DO NOT READ: click on the X’, was written on the mini page. He clicked out of it and read the story anyway.

The story was about a guy who dresses up like a clown and slaughters kids and puts their heads in a special bag after gaining their trust. Apparently he’s the candidate upon the inspection that says he’s a known serial killer. He was blamed for the children’s disappearances. A current father of one of the children apparently hunted him down and blew his head off. There were even pictures of the dead body of the clown killer. Graphic and grotesque. ‘Photoshop’, thought Jimmy. The most conspicuous part of the story was the ending. It said that the friend of the last kid of the father who the killer murdered began to have uncontrollable nightmares. He began to believe that the clown killer is actually not dead and that he even sees him sometimes. On that note, there was a newsletter informing what the kid was experiencing. Then it said now that you saw his body, he’ll be coming to haunt you too. Jimmy let out an amusing smirking grunt. He thought it was pretty stupid and ridiculous. ‘Definitely fake, though,’ thought jimmy. ‘It’s gotta be’. Although he tried to act tough such as if the story meant nothing, he knew it was chilling and unsettling. He shrugged it off. He went to lay on his bed to relax.

Then out of nowhere, a hideous, light demonic clown like laugh filled the atmosphere. It sounded as if it was downstairs in the garage or something. Jimmy immediately rose up and shook his head. He rubbed his ears as well also to ensure himself. He sat up the next 10 seconds, heard nothing, then lied back down. He shrugged it off as his imagination due to what he just read.

It’s been three hours since he’s read the story. Nobody’s home. Breanna, who’s usually online, isn’t even connected. Jimmy had the computer hibernated 2 hours ago. His lights were out. He attempted to crash for the night. He tried his best to not think of the stupid clown story, but for some strange reason he found it difficult. The more he thought about it, the more unsettling it became. He slept- when he was awakened by a monstrous, possibly mind induced gust followed by that creepy, demonic clown laugh. He immediately rose up and turned on the lights. It’s 1:38 on a Saturday Night. Jimmys first thought was to lay back down, but changed his mind once he thought of how he was awoken. He made his way downstairs. He turned the lights on. He spotted a sticky note he missed earlier on the fridge. It read, ‘ We took Max to the hospital’, please remain here till we get back’, Love mom’. It was indeed in his mother’s handwriting. The doorbell rang seemingly out of nowhere. Jimmy tried to hide his facade for company as he went to get the door. He opened to find Carrie standing there looking as tired as he was. The awkward thing about this still was that she was holding the 5 foot toy clown.

“Carrie? What the Hell are you doing here at this time”, he demanded. Without changing her expression, she held out her arms containing the weird toy.

“Max said this was yours”, she said innocently. Jimmy shook his head. Before he could reply, she spoke.

“He says he wants you to remember him, and that he’s sorry”. Upset and too tired to to ask questions, he accepted her offer and shut the door in her face. He never thought much of Carrie so why give a shit? He looked at the face of the clown, disgusted.

“What the literal hell is wrong with these people”, he said, disgusted. He set it on the kitchen floor and put four of the couch cushions on it to cover its whole visage. He walked back upstairs. When he entered his room he froze in horror to the toy clown sitting on his bed. Not knowing how to react, he immediately picked the clown up and threw it down the stairs with brute force. He proceeded to brutally thrash it around. Kick it, punch it, and yell at it. He stuffed it into the trash can and piled all the trash he could find on top of it. He locked the top of the can with a chain and a lock. When he went back to his room, the clown was sitting in the same spot he saw it before, only closer to the edge. This time he felt as if he was ready to pass out. He refrained as his heart felt as if it was going to tear itself from his chest. Jimmy ran downstairs not bothering to touch the clown. He pulled out his phone and dialed Sam. He kept a close look on the stairway leading up to his room. Sweat ran down his face. Sam picked up.

“Dude, What do you want? It’s four in the morning” demanded Sam with exhaustion.

“Just shut up and get your ass over here. I got something fucked that’s definitely worth our while”, replied Jimmy. Sam sighed.

“Alright. Be over in 10”. In the meantime Jimmy paced anxiously and tried to come up with reasonable ideas that made it so his mind could cope with the fact this toy clown is appearing from one place to another. ‘The heinous acts it performs has to have some sort of drive behind it’ he thought trying to sooth his feelings. In reality the fact of the fact is It’s downright terrifying.

Sam rung the doorbell. Jimmy let him in.

“Alright, this better be good”, said Sam.

“No, it’s NOT good. It’s downright horrifying!” Exclaimed Jimmy.

“What is it”? Demanded Sam. Jimmy turned his head to find the clown slouched where the staircase began.

“Really? Are you serious? Is this a fucking joke?” said Sam with ridicule.

“No, asshole, wherever you put it, it moves when you leave, to another location”, scolded Jimmy. Sam had a look of ridicule and concern on his face toward Jimmy. Jimmy shook his head.

“Alright. Let me show you”! Began Jimmy. As soon as they turned their heads the clown was no longer there at the entrance of the staircase. Jimmy pointed it out. Sams mouth hung open in shock.

“Holy shit”! Exclaimed Sam with fear in his voice.

“I think I’m scared shitless”.

“Tell me about it”, replied Jimmy. Sam turned to Jimmy.

“We have to destroy that thing”, demanded Sam.

“I tried to trash it heavily already”, countered Jimmy.

“Have you actually tried to DESTROY it”? Demanded Sam.

They exchanged glances. They made their way up the stairs. The toy clown, seemingly out of nowhere, fell or jumped from the ceiling where its presence was not detected, onto Sams back.

“Fuck! Get it off”!! Panicked Sam.

Sam elbowed it off of him after his thrashing fit.

“Let’s hurry before it goes again”! Demanded Jimmy.

One glance was all it took for the toy clown to vanish from their sights.

“Shit”! Exclaimed Jimmy.

“I’m not taking any more chances. As soon as I see it, I’m going to burn the fucker completely into ashes”! Promised Sam.

They eventually saw it posted somewhere. They immediately grabbed it and threw it into the fire place. They lit the gas heater after inserting firewood. They watched it burn. Their frantic minds even calmed down it was so relieving.

They went up to Jimmys room. Jimmy got on his huge monitor computer, and Sam just looked at his phone on Jimmys bed.

“Hey bro, I’m going down to get me a snack. Do you want anything”? Asked Sam.

Jimmy shook his head, eyes glued to the computer. After 45 minutes, Jimmy decided to check on Sam. He had a smile on his face as he descended the stairs. That smile turned into a frown of horror. Sams head was crammed into the fridge. A long pool of blood staring from Sams body, reached all the way where the entrance to the staircase was. His throat had been cut. Jimmy felt anguish and fear like none other. He zoomed upstairs and shut his door. He locked the door. He frantically pulled his phone out dropping it a few times. Then seemingly out of nowhere, diagonally behind Jimmy, the clown appeared and latched onto Jimmy. Jimmy fell back in shock. The toy clown then jabbed a knife into Jimmys ribs. It went in pretty deep. When thrusted out, a splatter of blood became apparent on the wall and the computer monitor screen. Mostly the monitor. On the monitor was Breannas chat box opened. It read:

“Jimmy, I said yes. I’ll marry you for that. Hehe. No seriously”.

“Jimmy you ok”?

“Alright, fuck you then. I’ll just find someone better to talk to”.

The chat box closed.

[jollyviscreal666]

🎅

[jollyviscreal666]

Feel free to send me stories. I love hearing from people and will happily share them. If you want to change names or any place names it’s fine with me.

[jollyviscreal666]

The Toy Clown

Submitted by: http://jollyviscreal666.tumblr.com/

Length: Super long

–

Once there was a boy named Jimmy. He lived in Athens, Georgia, and was an average teenager in his third year of high school. He did pretty well in school, was very popular and most of the students liked him. 

Above all, he liked talking to girls the most. He had a crush on a girl named Breanna. To him, she was his most difficult challenge yet. They chatted on MySpace a lot. Part of it was the fact that it seemed that she never had time to talk to him. 

“Why not, I’m a great guy,” thought Jimmy. That thought was followed by, “I bet it’s because she’s busy with other guys,” he frowned.

One of Jimmy’s hobbies was gawking at Breanna’s pictures on MySpace - especially the hot ones. “She’s so sexy,” he thought to himself while gawking. 

Jimmy was known for being sly and smooth with the ladies, and not to mention adept at flirting. He was careful to maintain his popularity. He veered away from anything or anyone that may give off a hint of anything that may make him infamous. 

His best friend at school was named Sam. They pretty much relied on each other for everything. They hung out almost every day, and stuck with each other when shit went down. Sam mentioned that he too was into females, but also implied that Jimmy’s appetite for the girls was too peculiar. 

“Give them a second to breathe,” he would say. Jimmy always countered that Sam needed to get out more. They were only joking, of course.

Jimmy lived with his mother and father. The next door neighbors were immensely acquainted with them. Jimmy loved his mother most, and had always supported her. His father, on the other hand, was a bit strange. Jimmy loved him, but there was something out of line that he couldn’t put his finger on. He seemed to spend too much time at work, and comes home acting a bit weird. He also seemed to be having issues with his job. He argued with Jimmy’s mother. This made him curious about what the hell goes on in his father’s work. It stressed him out, and almost more than his younger brother, Max.

Max was two years younger than Jimmy. Their relationship was nowhere near healthy. A small factor may be because of the fact that Max was adopted. They found it impossible to get along, and argued seemingly 24/7. Every now and then, they’ll come to terms, but not often. They tried to keep it out of their social lives at school, and refrained from establishing their presence to one another. 

However, one time Max got In the way of Jimmy’s interactions, and ever since then it had been been a war of revenge. Jimmy became sick of it. Max didn’t understand as he had nothing to lose. Jimmy actually interacted in his school. He went out on dates. He was invited to parties. Max didn’t have to deal with any of that. The result of that fact meant that whenever Jimmy got the chance to humiliate Max and put him down, he took. Max crossed the line. Jimmy made a vow to make Max’s life miserable no matter what.

Max did attempt to make friends and get a girlfriend, just like Jimmy. However, every attempt to do so was foiled by Jimmy. Even when Max presented his skills, the crowd usually disowned him. Both personally and in the popularity list. Max had no idea of what to do. He knew that his life would always be ruined. The only skills he possessed were minor magic tricks. Jimmy would frequently remind him of what a loser he was, that no one wound ever want him. Even Max’s friends stayed away from him. Some even never talked to him again. Max seemingly lost all hope.

Max went to rely on the only person who felt real sympathy for him, Carrie, the neighbor’s niece. She was very strange. Decently attractive but mentally unstable. One year younger than Max, they hung out almost every time she was over for the holidays and summer time. Max tried his very hardest to conceal his relationship with Carrie. To be sly. He was extremely careful. No telling what horrors Jimmy would spit out if he saw them together.

As Max ranted to Carrie, she apparently fondled with her red hair. She was probably getting nervous, or bored. One or the other. They were at Max’s house, and everyone was gone for the evening. His mother at a church meeting, his father working, and Jimmy was with Sam preparing for the school’s event. Strangely, a package had arrived. Carrie pointed it out. Max gestured for her to help him open it. It was in a 5 feet well sealed cardboard box.

“What the hell is this?” said Max. He pulled the mini papers taped onto the front of the package. He checked the destination. Nothing. Then the initial location. Nothing.

Keep reading

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Bonus cuz I don't post selfies on here 😏😏😏

[jollyviscreal666]

JoJo Boswell vanished at the age of 19 on July 11th, 2005. She was last seen after she was released from Steele County Jail, located in Owatonna, Minnesota. Records state that JoJo was in jail because she had been arrested for theft, however very few details are available surrounding her arrest or any potential charges. The Jacob Wetterling Resource Center stated that on the day JoJo was released, she was driven by a Steele County Deputy to a Kwik Trip convenience store located on West Frontage Road. Other reports state that JoJo was later seen between 2:30 and 3pm walking in front of Mills Fleet Farm, located just a few miles away from the Kwik Trip. An unidentified individual was reportedly seen walking up to JoJo and they began talking. The two walked away together, and JoJo was never been seen or heard from again.

Aside from the above details, there are very few details available in JoJo’s case. JoJo’s family believes that race played a role in the lack of media reports about her disappearance. JoJo is from a Native American family, and recent studies have shown that numerous police departments nationwide are not adequately identifying or reporting cases of missing and murdered indigenous women and girls. 

The Minneapolis Police Department is investigating JoJo’s disappearance. If you have any information that could help the case, please contact them at (612) 673-5373. Additionally, if you’d like to learn more about how you can help raise awareness about the epidemic of violence against against Native American women in the United States, please visit this resource.  

[jollyviscreal666]

Tamra Jewel Keepness was only five years-old when she vanished from her family’s Regina, Saskatchewan home on July 6th, 2004. Tamra and her family members are First Nations, and the neighborhood they lived in prior to Tamra’s disappearance was known for having First Nations residents. The neighborhood was a well-known area for prostitution as well, and unfortunately many residents struggled with poverty and/or addiction. In July 2004, Tamra was an innocent child who was blissfully unaware of the dangers in her neighborhood. She loved to play outside and had a habit of leaving the house without telling anyone. While it seems plausible that this lead to her disappearance, authorities wondered if the reason for Tamra’s disappearance could be found within her own home.

After Tamra was reported missing, authorities learned that a violent incident occurred in her home just hours before she vanished. On the evening of July 5th, 2004, Tamra was at home with her mother Lorena, her mother’s boyfriend Dean, and her five siblings. At some point, an argument broke out between Lorena and Dean, causing Dean to storm out of the house. Shortly after leaving, he ran into their friend Russell, who was also an occasional resident at their house. Dean and Russell decided to go out for drinks while Lorena stayed home with the children. A little bit later, Lorena sent the children to bed and left her oldest child in charge while she went to have drinks at a friends house located a block away. Around midnight, Russell returned to the home without Dean. He allegedly saw all of the children sleeping in the living room at that time. Russell stayed at the residence for the next 3 hours, during which Dean returned at some point as well. Russell stated that before he left the residence, Dean beat him up so badly he was forced to get stitches at a hospital. Russell walked to the hospital, while Dean went to spend the night at his aunt’s house. It is unknown what the two men were fighting about, but they both have stated that their fight was not about Tamra.

Lorena returned home shortly after the fight. The doors to the home were locked and she was forced to enter through a window. She stated that she thought she saw her 10 year-old daughter, Summer, and Tamra’s twin sister, five year-old Tannis, sleeping in the living room. Lorena passed out shortly thereafter. When she woke up hours later, she asked her 8 year-old son Rayne if he had seen Tamra. Rayne told his mother that he slept on the floor, up against the mattress that Tamra fell asleep on the previous night. He said he felt Tamra get out of bed at some point that morning, but nobody had actually seen her since the previous evening. The family searched for her for about an hour and a half before calling the police and reporting Tamra missing.

Authorities have conducted several interviews and have followed thousands of tips since Tamra’s disappearance, but have not announced any suspects in the case. The most recent tip came about in 2014, when a Reddit user posted a hand-drawn map of Muscowpetung (pictured above) with the words: “Location of Tamra Keepness, check the wells.” The Reddit user later wrote that the map belonged to their grandmother, but had come from a great-aunt who had visited an inmate in Alberta. It is unclear who exactly drew the map. Investigators searched 21 wells around Muscowpetung but found nothing.

Tamra’s case is still being investigated by the Regina Police Service’s Cold Case Unit. There is a $50000 reward for information that leads to her whereabouts. If you have any information that could help solve Tamra’s case, please contact the cold case unit at 306-777-6500.

[jollyviscreal666]

The Chef

I had refrained from entering the formulas to the CIA operatives and sending them out. I knew that there would be no suitable outcomes prior to a transaction such as this. Sure they could threaten me, charge me with international fraud and national product alteration. They could do so many more things more powerful, but they won’t. Not when I have the recipes. They are currently hidden, and only I know their whereabouts. It makes them so frustrated, but they have to play my game if they ever want my formulas and recipes. They will play. I know they will. There is no other way. I made sure of it.

Let’s take a gander at some of my backstory. I am Keith Benson, and I am a chef. I have more than just talent when it comes to cooking. I AM cooking talent, if you will. Most prefer to just simply say ‘best cook in the world’. I hate to boast, but there are no faults in that fact. Plain and simple.

When I prepare a meal, the sweltering sound of the pan leaves customers’ mouths watering in agonizing anticipation. They are salves to the presence of my cooking, and that’s only the sound. Imagine what goes through their heads when the aroma of my preparations enters their nostrils. The essence of ecstasy is immensely immersive when it comes to my preparations, and that’s only the preparation. Stage 1 if you will. Stage 2 is when the plate is placed in front of the guests or patrons. It’s that good. Everyone said so. I’ve never met anyone who said different.

One can only imagine what goes through the mind of the individuals who now are only moments away from satisfying the agony. It’s almost as if a layer of ecstasy has been ceased as it had existed. I’m only speaking from experience based on the input of former patrons and costumers. Stage 3 is the best by far. The accounts vary by person. There is nothing more I love than pleasing those who wish to have their stomach filled. The customers are the bread and butter. That is why I do everything to utilize my talents fully. There’s no feeling in the world better than watching someone fall in love with your very own dish.

I became very famous. Everyone wanted a bite. They’d pay hundreds for a full dish. No joke. I felt like my life was just a huge glop of ecstasy. Nothing ever slowed down. My rates were always high and I was very admired in the community. Everywhere I went, people followed. I became sort of a celebrity. I’ve been cooking ever since I was 8 years old. I realized about 2 years later that it was what I wanted to do in life. From then on, nothing but recipe after recipe, combinations after combinations, collaboration against collaboration.

When I was 13, I made my first cake from scratch. Surprisingly in an unlikely manner, my family fell in love with it. They commented on how accurate I was with the texture and flavor inputs of the cake when I set it all up. How could I forget that? It’s one of my greatest memories. I entered contests throughout junior high, and I won ¾. People were impressed.

I decided to buckle down and pursue my passion. I used the same idea, but based it on other foods. Most were successful at first. People thought I was talented at first, but they didn’t see me do equations and measurements accordingly with my baking and cooking tools. From there I met a famous chef who shared his secrets with me. This was after I graduated from college. He was French. At that point, I’d had baked, broiled, and fried over 1 million food meals. From there, I used my natural talent, and created my own recipes to food using what I’ve learned from master chefs, TO become THE master chef. Implying I’ve also had my own tricks as well.

Life was as I perceived it would be prior to my success. Unfortunately, that didn’t last very long. Everything took a turn when suddenly I realized I’ve been cooking up and baking the same ingredient combinations for the past 10 years. I’ve tried everything. I perfected everything. Regarding meat, the most famously known, essential food condiment, I’ve tried literally everything. Everything from hippo meat to indigenous African beetle meat. Hey, being the world’s master chef has its quantities. Even dog and cat meat.

That’s when the thought crossed my mind. I’ve never tried human meat. I’ve actually never tried human meat. It can’t be that bad. You can’t judge until you try it. For some unknown reason, I was particularly excited about the idea. Maybe it’s because I was somewhat depressed and I needed something new to fill my desires. Having nowhere to try it, nor no one to participate, I cut off my own finger. It was my first finger next to my thumb on my left hand. It hurt like hell but it was well worth it.

It was incredibly delicious for some reason, and all I did was fry it and broil it. The flesh was easy to peel off and the meat itself was freshly done. I consumed it and made the decision to adjoin the meat alongside my other famous recipe inventions. It increased the flavor of many of my swilling recipes. I added what I knew would make the best difference. I knew that human parts are actually good candidates for texture accumulation alongside flavor enhancers. I knew I could always take it a step ahead and the essence of the human larder could be used to enhance everything edible. Including the essence of my welfare prior to my soul in the universe.

I was once again filled with happiness and hope, believing I’ve found what I was missing in my life. Excitedly, I called two of the most prolific critiques in the food industry. They too showed moods of enthusiasm. Perhaps they longed for another one of my dishes. Well I had something for them, alright. I must refrain from telling you how I’d prepared these amazing meals. They’re watching me closely. All I can say is, I was in the mood to make quite an impression and I didn’t have a whole lot of time to do it. I cut my whole left hand off. I wasn’t prepared for the pain, almost impossible to block out no matter how many times I implied to myself that it was for a good cause. I had six hours to prepare the meal.

The procedure made me pass out twice, but I held my ground. I drilled a hole in the wall and inserted two inputs that connected to large looped bolts where I tied the thick Indian ropes. I connected them to other smaller bolts after inserting the smaller bolts into the large sturdy ropes. I tied the thinner smaller but more powerful ropes around my ankles, very tightly. I knew I was going to have to use a heated saw to cut it off, but I thought I could easily handle it after what I was about to do.

I drilled four more smaller holes to put a metal restraint with metal straps to hold down my arm. I had nothing to use but a premium butcher knife to cut my hand off. I put a spoon in my mouth to bite down when the pain started. 8 efficiently executed slashes in, the tip of the spoon was separated from the rest of the body. It hurt that bad. I looked for something else to bite down on immediately. I almost used my other arm. The head of the spoon was swallowed. I took no notice in it whatsoever. I still don’t know how I managed, but I just fainted a couple of seconds after my struggle.

The amount of blood spilled on the floor was apparently incredible, looking back on it. I woke up in a haze. Nearly a minute later, my pain receptors turned on again. I wailed in agony. I wanted to quit. I stood there for an hour hesitant to what my final decision would be. What I really wanted was to pass out again. So I luckily found another spare butcher knife (not as big as the one I was using) and used the handle to bite down on.

I resumed my task. I just focused on slicing through as hard and efficiently as possible. I tried so hard. I tried so hard to avoid coming to a stop. I had sweat covering me. I almost got in 5 slices. Almost. I passed out at the end of the fourth. This time for 4 hours instead of 2.

Realizing I only had about 30 minutes, I decided to quit. I needed to get to the hospital. I felt incredibly weak, as if something had drained all my body’s life support. I had overestimated myself. I dialed 911 and called for an ambulance. I told them my arm had gotten stuck in the mechanical absorbing meat grinding flattener. I quickly decided to put my nearly detached hand in the receiving area of the machine. 8 more slices would’ve done it. I had to drill holes and do the powerful rope attaching deal, but it worked out. I thought I’d lost so much blood there was none left. I was wrong. I believe the machine even took some of my skin above where I’d jammed the blade, about 4 inches.

I was taken to the hospital. I hid my hand in the freezer room. I was given a mechanical robotic prosthetic hand thanks to my income. I prepared the meal using the meat flattener/grinder. Then I used my special combinations which made the meat so much better. I named the dish “La Vaggia Della eta” because of its Italian style. I served it with my famous buttered fettuccine. Of course they fell in love and mentioned that I’d never failed to amaze them. They said it was the best meal they’ve ever tasted, no less by my hands!

I added my other famous meat recipes, but the most important ingredient to my success was the human meat. It gave it that special texture-like taste that you’d always swear you taste in a variation of a product, but to a much bigger scale!

I took to hiring hitmen on the deep web to kill random individuals I became acquainted with, and bring them to me. I prepared the meals monthly, then weekly, and finally, daily. I experimented with every organ, every tissue layer of the human anatomy. People were impressed that I could whip up such successful meals after so many years of the same stuff. And the best part was, it was good!! I went from millionaire to billionaire.

I even established my own corporation. I was head of it, of course. We sold nearly 8.9 billion products. Critics claimed that the products should be given the same respect and treatment as coca-cola itself. It was that good. I had 8 years of success and joy. Then came the final chapter of my life.

The elite health inspectors and chefs couldn’t help but to go digging. They loved my new dishes and products, but they needed to know how the hell I’d made it so good to get where I was now. Everything that good has to be discovered . I just wish they’d found out later. They hired a couple of scientists supposedly who worked for the FDA. It took them 4 months to find out what my special ingredient was. They were too busy eating my dishes on break rather than focusing full time on their study. They eventually found traces of skin cells and human gene extract in my products.

I can only imagine what went through their heads. I’m not as crazy as you think. When you think about it, the idea of delicacies is to indulge oneself by survival standards in the most comfortable way possible. If you need something in a dire situation (in my case sentimentally personal) then you have every right to try to hone it.

Before they officially took me to prison, I told them that my recipes could not be used without the human meat. They demanded the locations to avoid them getting into the wrong hands. I denied them the locations. I’d truthfully swallowed the bottle containing the recipes.

They also needed the recipes to put on record to sentence and condemn me. They needed evidence according to law. So I forced them to play my sick game. I had bottles with substitute recipes. I made the floor slippery with large amounts of canola oil. After spotting it, in frantic haste they ran to claim it. It was taped to the meat flattener/grinder. Of course the one in front slipped and his hand got caught in it. It began to suck him in. While being inserted into the machine, he managed to rip the taped recipe from the machine. The other FBI officer took it. He didn’t even bother to look at his partner as he became hamburger meat and flattened.

They threatened to torture me once more agents arrived. I was forced to tell them that I’d swallowed the actual recipes. They gave me the death penalty. Death by lethal injection. What a surprise. 2 months before my supposed death date, I requested one final meal. Myself. The authorities, not caring one way or the other, decided to grant my request, thanks to those who supported me 9-25 years ago. I’m scheduled for lethal injection in 2 days. Better get to work. Haven’t eaten in weeks. Have a good life. And as always, bon apetit.

~~

Police notes: Clearly mentally insane, the subject’s last request was granted. Surprisingly, agents Ross and Foster stuck around to see him bleed out. According to them, they were surprised as to how long he’d lasted prior to his self mutilation. According to them, a small incision was made to reach his internal organs without bleeding out completely. The managed to amputate and consume his limbs in a matter of days. The most surprising, yet most disturbing of all was the absence of his eyes along with the smile on his corpse.

–

[jollyviscreal666]

Self inflicted

Length: Short

TRIGGER WARNING: THEMES OF DEPRESSION, SUICIDE, SELF-MUTILATION

–

I’ve decided to keep a journal to comfort myself prior to what I’m going through. I’m scared to go out. I’m scared to go anywhere, really. Every feeling feels like intense torment. Everywhere I look, I feel that every solid physical object overwhelms me. The thoughts I have. How they get so bad? I even have days where I’ve wished that I was one of those objects. Some days I resent the thought, but I have nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. It’s as if my own body shell houses an evil sentimental bomb factory that goes off every second endlessly. Except those explosions aren’t explosions of fire and shrapnel, they’re of evil hellish fear and agony.

There are days when my mind just wants to shut down. And it does. Sometimes I even pass out. I’ve been to the hospital many times. Especially the mental hospitals. But their diagnosis was there was nothing wrong with me. I was perfectly healthy.

The most I’ve held it off was 2 hours. Then it comes back again. Sometimes even worse than before. Sometimes it gets so powerful and unbearable, I feel like scratching my skin off. I’ve tried my best to hide these uncontrollable impulses. Especially in the mental hospitals. It’s not always easy. I even pull my hair out as well. I know it’s wrong to inflict bodily harm, but I can’t control it.

I’ve been trying to cope with it since 2009. It won’t let up. I know that being happy and enjoying myself is so far from reality for me that it’s not even funny, but I can’t have relationships or even friends with my condition. It’s almost as if girls and my family members are altering in some sort of odd way. It seems it’s been forever since I’ve had a good time. I’ve tried thing after thing to demolish it in the beginning. Now that I know it’s likely gonna be there forever, I have to learn to cope and live with it. Nothing seems to help.

I barely go out at all. Seldom do I go out. I’m in my room 98% of the time. My parents even cut a hole near the bottom of my door to pass me what I need to live. When I’m about to go to sleep, I feel what can almost be described as relief. In my sleep I feel no pain. No agony. No discomfort. I dream of what I truly want and what I wish could be true.

I feel as if my life is physically dwindling. In my room, besides looking for opportunities to try to sleep, I stab my pen through holes on paper. Something to try to distract myself. Anything to keep the monster feeling from arriving. The monster feeling is when I begin to feel extremely, unexplainably claustrophobic and completely and utterly alien to the earth and its atmosphere. I feel like I should do anything to get the hell out of earth.

The sun is what disturbs me the most. Its glare brings horrible thoughts, no less than its sole presence. Everyday I think, what if someone was trapped in the sun for an eternity? Their soul to be exact. Or what if their pain level is based on the actual mass and all the properties of the sun itself? What if that was true when taking into account the rest of the suns in the universe?

The trick is to not get lost in thought. Once you are, you’re done for. It’s happened to me an innumerable amount of times. I’ve had urges to amputate my body parts randomly, commit suicide in other variously gruesome ways, and butcher other people. All for no reason. The worse thing I almost did was bury myself alive. Jumping in a giant vat of acid is a close second. And finally, removing my own eyes manually. I still don’t know how I was able to resist it, up to this day!

I keep trying to tell myself that none of it is real. Until my mind finds something else to fuck with. Anything. You name it.

Believe it or not, all of this started off with one simple thought. You see, I was a successful young person. Pretty intelligent, and wise. Not a day went by that I wasn’t happy, until that day that would change the rest of my life forever.

It felt as if my soul had been perished that very moment, and I got the hunch that I would never feel happy or be successful again. I even imagined a grim reaper figure near the classroom clock. I knew that it was going to affect my life negatively, but not like this.

I wrote a note to my mother, telling her to keep these writings in a lockable notebook.

~~

I’ve got the lockable notebook. Now we can become more acquainted. My mother is sending a mental doctor to come analyze me. That’s the 5th one this week! I’m going to swallow a perfume bottle. That’ll show them how serious I am.

~~

It’s been 8 weeks since the surgery that they’d performed to remove the perfume bottle from my digestive system. Having the damn thing stuck in there hurt like hell. I couldn’t move a muscle without aching in pain. The good thing was that my mind was finally satisfied. It’s been waiting for me to do something like that for awhile prior to the actual surgery.

A week later I went swimming without permission, and I deliberately tore my stitched abdomen open. The pain was indescribable. So much blood.

My parents tried to help me and called the ambulance. They stitched me back up. Before they admitted me to an asylum, I asked if I could see one more thing. That’s when I bolted. Part of me wanted me to go so I wouldn’t be able to hurt myself anymore. But the other part said that my mind would consume itself until I became worse than a vegetable.

I ended up taking bromo dragonfly, the over the top extreme LSD, to see if my overly active mind would be satisfied. I apparently took a lot. My skin and muscles developed craters and soon I lost control of my natural appendix and limb movements. I even asked them to cut my legs off. I told them, they were useless. They also told me it was irrelevant as I am going to die anyway.

My last request is for them to take me off life support. It hurts and I think my mind is satisfied now. Someone came by with flowers. I didn’t recognize them. Anyway, this is the last you’ll be hearing from me. Always remember that your point of view can change the whole universe. I mean that. Just one thought can be incredibly powerful. More powerful than you think. It can change your life and inflict the people around you. Or change their actions and attitudes completely. Everyone is technically effected in this whole realm, right?

–

Credits to: http://jollyviscreal666.tumblr.com/

[jollyviscreal666]

Happy birthday Johnny

My name is Johnny Zimmerman and I have a story to tell. I just turned 14 and I couldn’t be more happy with myself and my life.

It all started with the coming of my birthday, about 2 years ago. I was miserable. My father was cruel and a drunkard. Every birthday I had always seemed to be rushed because of the circumstances involving my father. Every now and then he would get me a gift or two. But it was just to shut me up. I didn’t know what his problem was, and I still don’t care. But he beat me and my mother constantly like it was a daily routine. He was a lazy bum who couldn’t keep a job for more than 2 weeks. They weren’t even big company type jobs. They were more like personal exchanges. Some even illegal.

I remember about 2 years ago, the night before my birthday, he almost burned the house down. He didn’t even consider the familiar consequences prior to his actions. I remember it started with him coming home drunk. Nothing unusual about that. He came home drunk every night 90% of the time. Not giving a shit what was going on or anything we had to say. We did our best to ignore him. We did so until we couldn’t. He was slouched on the couch telling us things we didn’t want to hear. He had a lot to say as well. Our family had issues.

I’m sure one of the things he was rambling about was the death of my grandparents and some conspiracy shit you’d expect a drunkard to go on about. Soon, we got fed up with it and asked him to leave. When he refused, my mother raised her voice and he socked her in the jaw. Not slapped, socked. Then he was on her covering her mouth before she could scream. I trembled in tears. Whenever I screamed and cried, he threatened to beat me the same way if I continued to do so. So that time I kept my mouth shut. He beat her black and blue, and as usual made me swear not to utter a word.

My grandparents are a very serious topic for me. Especially when the notion of their death is involved. They were killed in a car wreck near the exit of the highway. An eighteen wheeler apparently took them off course and a corvette behind them was part of a police car chase and slammed right into them. Nobody survived. It was a tragedy. I loved them very much. It felt like they were the only real family I had with minimal issues. They always found time to spend time with me. Read me stories, and always looked out for me. The closest I’ve ever gotten to true kindness.

They were lied back and relaxed. Sure they had qualities of their offspring but they were more tender spirit wise. At least they appeared to be so. They were also fond of me. They enjoyed and anticipated my actions with a calm sincerity. Whenever my mother announced a trip to visit them I became filled with excitement and joy, but strangely, mostly relief. They were my grandparents from my mothers side. They always welcomed him with open arms and were happy to see him. The average person would not see it as I understand now, but I certainly did.

My mother on the other hand, suffered from extreme stress and depression. A lot of that was because of my father. Truthfully, his influence rubbed off on her. She had her demons too, and coped with them drinking alcohol. I feel like the more she lost herself, the more our connection distanced Itself in our relationship. Soon she was too far. Everyone was away from me in my family household. The only ones I could rely on were my grandparents. I just hoped and waited for my mother to say we need to visit them. To get her mind off things, she went to her parents quite often. She wasn’t as fortunate as they were apparently.

I made good acquaintances in school. I was bullied every now and then but most of the students were sympathetic of my situation at home. Especially the girls. Not everyone shared my misfortune.

My first experience of what I believe played a part of my salvation was in the corn fields of my grandpas farm. He was showing me how to work the old fashioned mower. It was an old mower tractor type vehicle. It had chipped red paint all over it. A piece essential to the ignition had fallen off. It took my grandpa 8 minutes to realize he wasn’t mowing anything. He ordered me to search for it. In the tall grass I felt a presence. It was dark and cold. But all the more so relieving. It felt as if I should just leave everything behind and let go. The presence was so strong I could hear and understand it even though no real sounds were coming out. It felt as if something was watching me in the high grass. My grandpa called for me and it went away. I thought about the presence many weeks that followed. Soon I let it go as I haven’t felt it since then.

When I heard of their death, I felt it briefly. I went back to the corn field in the high grass to see if I could feel it for guidance. I encountered nothing.

My last birthday with my parents was not foreseen. But I’m glad it transpired. The night before that birthday, we received severe beatings from my drunkard father of mine. That night he was rambling about how inconvenient the placement of my grandparents graves were. They were buried at our church cemetery about 8 blocks away. This time my father said if she messed up again, he would kill her and sell her soul to the devil. He even marked her with a knife to prove it. I was absolutely horrified.

The next day was my party. Over 20 kids from my school were invited. Most of them came. I limped on and off that day cause of my father. My mood was the same. I enjoyed the company aside my personal life. When the time came to blow out the candles and make a wish, I felt the presence. Although it was different this time. It actually felt good and wasn’t as intense. My wish was for my grandparents to come back and take me away from my parents. And surely enough, they did.

Their decaying bodies rose from their graves and made their way to my party. I was so happy to see them. Even in their present state. As soon as the doorbell rang, my father went to answer it, drunk as usual. There were my grandparents at the door. My grandma stuck her bony dried out fingers Into his eye sockets and buried them deep in his head. I took joy in watching him suffer. Then my grandpa instantly tore my fathers abdomen open and his stomach tore up to his ribs and his intestines became visible. They flopped out as my grandpa tried to organize them. His other organs were visible as well. If happened so fast my father still stood. Once my grandmas fingers were sticking out the other side of his head she tore his head and skull open and his brain split into two pieces.

Everything became hectic. Everyone ran around and screamed. Although the doors seemed to be locked. I don’t remember anyone getting out. My grandma took a knife from the kitchen. She advanced to my mother with her dried out eyes. My grandma slit her open from groin to sternum. Then the lights went out. It was pitch black. I sat still. It felt so pleasant, I didn’t take much notice to the bloodcurdling screams of horror and dread around me. When the lights came on, the walls, floor, and ceiling were covered in human meat and organs. Pieces of all the guests lay everywhere. I gave my grandparents a hug and thanked them. We stated by re making the cake using my dads head and organs. We ate it together for celebration. Then we had my mom for desert.

This is the first time I’ve written this true story down. I’ve gone months without taking those events into account. I live with a foster family now. But every now and then it comes to calm me. To assure me it will all be ok. My grandparents had to go unfortunately. Probably back to their graves. However you put it, that birthday was the best birthday of my life. And the best day ever.

[jollyviscreal666]

Doped up

Jaki Anderson was the most independent woman you could count on. She was always preparing for the alternative in her own particular fashion. She always got things done on time, and rarely fell behind.

She may have passed some crisis phases, but she put it all behind her. Now she’s making good money. She has a steady business, a rich husband, and a year old infant. Jaki and her husband, Paul Berg, are frequently over occupied with work. Often receiving exhausting workloads sometimes lasting until 2:00 in the evening the next day. So, unfortunately, they don’t have much time to raise their child as much as they’d like. They keep trying to promise to make time, but it’s not so simple. Their baby boy, Jenson, is frequently cared for by a health agency operated by Paul’s company.

The goals and desires of Paul and Jaki are what made them so attached to running their Corporations. However, things don’t always run so smoothly. The truthful reality of the fact due to Jakis stress is under exaggerated. She can’t even sleep 4 days of the week. Most of the time, anyway. Jakis Corporation, Pharmaceuticals Crew INC, is usually involved in over due workloads due to CDC national suits and business negotiation pending procedures. Not only that, but her company firms were so counted on and relied upon, that she usually had to extend her lawyers work hours. With additional pay, of course. Some complained;some bit the bullet.

Jakis mistake was signing an agreement with the PSA(Pharmaceuticals Science Association)In attempt to increase her quota income entirely in the benefit of her whole corporation. The agreement consisted of quota share holdings and stock transfer and management. Getting better supplies and medicine that would rise up quantities of pill selling and more customers-seems like a good step up. However, the agreement is quite specifically, strict. Once. Once did Jaki not live up to company deadline sale standards. It literally tore her company in half.

Jaki became a mess. She began to suffer from frequently potent anxiety and depression. She was so ashamed of her failures that she decided to bluntly go against her morals and the greater good by cheating. This also can be interpreted as a substitute for loss and self pride. She immorally, slowly, and carefully, began to descend into a drug system of her own, and secretly made her own sales. She got so caught up in it, she even felt like she had to try to make popular illegal drugs legal: more potent in favor of the user. So she experimented with such.

She eventually lost herself. The worst part was, she knew it, too. She just did nothing about it. She experimented with the chemical compounds of potassium chloride in a potent manner. She mixed this new drug element with the chemical compounds that make up improved properties of ‘Bromo-DragonFly’. She then added a good touch of mesomorphine to the mix. Then even amped it up with a cut throat finisher: nuclear radiation. It’s a formula she’s been developing. The premises is built upon cancer treatment rays. She amped it up by intensifying the main element compound used in the cancer treatment rays. Powerful enough as it is; this is a whole new level.

Once the drug was completed, Jaki decided to test it out on a druggie friend patient of hers. Both of them couldn’t wait to experience this new drug. Of course both of them were cautious and agreed for her to take a low dose. In Jakis opinion, the dose was almost too low. It consisted of not even 100 ML. However, the affect seemed to be positive. According to her, it was worth the intake: Less amounts of stress. Only she soon lost her limb and appendix movement within a span of 3 months. She was in bed with a fever that grew into a heat wave infection. She died a month later, prior. Thankfully, she was a single individual, as oppose to married. So Jaki didn’t have to worry about charges being pressed.

Jaki was growing desperate. She needed a drug to keep her in check. She figured if she used a high level of a potent Pavulon, she would be able to almost, completely omit the lethal effect of the drug. She calculated the components of the chemical compounds of the two drugs. She needed a solution. She took 38 ML, just in case. She found the sensation was wonderful. It wasn’t until two days later, the dose took high affect. The drug rendered her delirious. So when she heard the news about her friend developing pulsing oozing craters on and in her body, all she could do was laugh. She ended up taking 100ML of the stuff, and 800ML of Pavulon. Strangely, even though it rendered her stiff, she somehow became addicted. She was able to induce more into her system. She does in fact have a history of drug crisis, episodes.

The Pavulon she took was greatly modified and potent. In fact, she was able to inject more. She became addicted. The first 2 weeks were relaxing. Her body did develop a mild sort of radiation sickness, but it was worth it; The Pavulon would take care of it. She had a lot to fall back on. She was prepared. At night after the buzz fest, due to her daily dose, her blood began to boil. It was relaxing. It relieved stress. It was wild. Wild, but worth it. In fact, it got so hot, she needed to take a literal, ice bath. This did bring her comfort, but it didn’t stop her skin from becoming irritated. By the 3rd week, it became unbearable. She continued her intake, nevertheless;Even though her skin was irritated, and itched like crazy. Both on the outside and inside. It got so bad, she actually pierced her skin with her nails; Digging into her skin. She began to get mini craters all over her body; Almost her face. She dug deeper into them the more time went by. Blood and orange puss oozed out of them. Nevertheless, she felt like she needed it more than ever.

By the 5th week, she had absorbed a total of 1200ML of the drug. Her drug. She tried her best to patch the oozing craters, but they were a great nuisance. She tried thinking of her baby when she came to realize how wrong all of this was. It made her more stressed and desired her to inject more into her body. The craters on her body were huge by the 6th week. It started to become difficult to move. They pulsed in an alien manner. She developed a sedative for them awhile back. Soon, they overrode the sedative. Soon, she bleed an orange, blue, puss. One, the biggest on her forearm, was pulsing like crazy. When she went to sleep, she woke up in agony to find a huge, bloody puddle of puss. Then removed the patch. As soon as the air hit it, an unearthly itch became present. She couldn’t help it: She clawed at her forearm with intense ferocity. She then, unable to bite the bullet, dug into her forearm crater with a knife. She moaned in agony and pleasure as the eyes rolled to the back of her head. She swiveled the sharp knife around her deep, gory, forearm crater. She let out squeals of agony, as well. Her heart pounded with ferocity. She fought with all she had, to not bite into the crater. She couldn’t try, because she knew more skin would be removed: that means a whole lot of blood loss. All it took was 8 seconds more to realize it wasn’t going to go away. After she removed the knife prior to her comfort, the unearthly itch returned. The other craters around her body pulsed and bled, creating a puddle forming under Jaki, little by little.

Her original plan was to patch up the giant crater, once controlled with the knife. It was way more powerful than she anticipated. She jabbed the knife about 3 inches above the wrist. Blood spilled out in a big flow. She cut into it deeply. She was surprised to find out how easy it was to skin her forearm from her natural flesh. Soon her forearm was skinless, oozing. Blue veins stuck out her knuckles of her skinlesss hand from forearm. More blood and puss spilled into the sink. She still felt the hellish itch burns as powerful as ever, now. The only thing she could think of doing, was dipping and singeing her skinned forearm into super hot water. She filled a huge crock pot with boiling hot water. She dipped her forearm into it. It only gave her a minutes comfort. However, that was it. All her other craters oozed as well. She finally fainted. When she woke up, her painful agony was greatly deduced. Although her forearm was still bloody and skinned. However, she found she still needed more of the drug.

As hellishly agonizing the experience was, Jaki still thought the doses were worth it. She took five more. Just on the 3rd day, her hair began to fall out. Her craters surprisingly spread and pulsed, constantly. Some times more than others. Her skin layers were getting weak, little by little. They also began to developed their own, gruesome, type Oder. She spit out 5 teeth two days later. Soon, she realized one of the reasons she was subject to such agony, is because she hasn’t eaten in so long, probably. She tried to cover the craters on her face with a skin cover gel she developed awhile back for patients with acne. However, the craters just pulsed and bled harder. She actually used a shaving razor to spread the gel. She accidentally, peeled a huge layer of weak flesh from her cheek and pierced the crater. She let out a painful grunt as nasty, gory, steaming, puss oozed out into the sink. She stretched the split open crater on her face on the skinless area. Blood and puss flowed down from the side of her nearly exposed cheekbone. She realized how she’s deteriorating due to how her wound is very close to her shriveling gum-jaw bone. She bit down, hard. She apparently popped another smaller crater there somewhere. Only this one burned worse. She got the knife, and split open her jaw from the side of her face. Now, her jaw was visible from the side of her face. Huge puddles of blood and puss all over the bathroom floor.

She then decided to attempt her shopping trip completely covered. She didn’t realize how much worse it got prior and during. She had to flee because someone caught a glimpse of her deteriorating face. When she got home, she went to the bathroom mirror. All her air was gone and her head was oozing craters at the top. The other infected side of her jaw, somehow, was infected from the first and ate away at her flesh there the same. Jaki’s eyes began to bleed puss. Still, only mildly so. She ripped the last of her lower face flesh off. Blood spilled and splattered. Jakis jaw was now hanging ajar with no flesh ports on either side to support it. Jaki then began to vomit some nasty, dark,blood colored creamy liquid from her mouth. It lasted about 30 minutes. She took two more doses by the time she got back from the store. This all happened soon after. She also, somehow, vomited out her left ear into the sink. Her nose spat puss blood liquid as she dug it off until nothing was visible, but the bone Port. More still spilled and drueled down her visible nose cavity. She spread tears. The tears mixed with the puss. Her vision was really bad now. It was only a matter of time before they deteriorate. She tried to eat. It didn’t work. She somehow managed to look up addiction to such substances online, and make a conclusion. She went out with her husbands heavy detective style jacket to buy adrenaline. She pumped herself full of it, along with a heavy dose of the culprit drug. When she returned home, the top of her skull was almost visible, covered in blue veins. When she opened the jacket, she saw her appendix was very skinny due to the deterioration. Blood and puss. A ton. Her ribcage barely stuck out as a rock from the ground would. Her eyes, literally, were now pulsing beads. She coughed up more blood and cut into her vulnerable deteriorating meat layer of her appendix. She removed her heart as it still pumped connected to the vascular cord. She cut the heart in half. She collapsed. She crawled to the drug counter. She removed her liver and stomach as well. She injected the rest of the drug into her brain. She passed out.

The next day, Paul forced himself in to find Jaki a pile of gory slob, near in the form of a skeleton. It made gruesome, gargling, noises. Somehow, Paul could tell she; Or it, was trying to say, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’. Paul attended her funeral along with all their families and friends. Paul, secretly kept a piece of heart from the sticky, puddy, dense pile that used to be his wife. The piece grew an eye.

[jollyviscreal666]

Satans venom

It’s awfully hot in this place. I write from hell for those still remaining refugees that somehow managed to strive veering ahead tenfold! It is hotter than a trillion suns they say. Well there is no way of telling as hell is about eternal repetition and torment. It’s not as bad as I anticipated. Whether or not it’s because of the obvious reason is anyone’s guess. I do know that a lot of people chose to go to hell because of the fact. If you’re not in hell with us it’s because the Lord himself used all his power to keep you in shelter until he himself is overwhelmed and killed. I know he can die. I know cause I can feel it. That’s how powerful it is.

You don’t understand why no one that is everyone to us aren’t in hell. It’s the Lords power. I pray that when he’s overwhelmed that your fate will not be worse than ours. Cause as far as I know it only gets bigger. It never stops. All this from a little insect. Let me explain:

My name was Angela Williams. I was with my boyfriend John Hinson at the visitors center in Tennessee for the Appalachian mountain trail. We were in Tennessee visiting our Grandparents and a couple of cousins for the holidays. We originally were California residents. My parents were originally from the south. I moved to California because it’s where John is from and there was a job opportunity.

We went hiking during our vacation. I stumbled upon a cave after hiking through oddly formed slopes for a change. We decided to go check it out. We weren’t expecting to find a cave. And then it’s when it all started. I had a vision that the world was gonna explode due to mass erosion of the core and energy expulsion. There was a voice. Like a godly voice. That’s the only way I can describe it. It told me I was the only one who could stop it. All I had to do was visit the location of the crater that leads to the center of the earth to the core, and worship it. It sounds strange, but it’s all true.

The crater was located in Hawaii. On an island near Maui not far from the coast and Hawaiian territory. Of course I knew it was there. The only problem was how I was gonna convince other people and geologists. I had to go myself. It took lots of planning and bribing, but I was able to reach the island via boat. As soon as I stepped on the island I could feel a powerful presence. You could feel the heat from miles and miles away on the boat. The closer we approached the island, the stronger it got.

Soon, the whole crew believed me. When we reached the crater, we called in the worlds team leading geologists’. They had plans for it of course. They took their time in their process of filing it in the federal bureaus and the National and International geologists association. The crater was too hot to approach it edge wise. You needed biological skin protection provided by worlds leading CDC and what not.

It was strange according to the earth scientists. I wasn’t surprised. The fumes and embers were extremely powerful on the surface and had unusual gases. A lot of it which was toxic residue. The most potent kind never discovered. The most strangest thing of all, was the protoplasm essence of universal matter. It was strange cause it’s something you’d expect to find in space. What the hell was it doing here? The most mysteriously unbelievable factor of the bunch was what they found when they explored deep in the crater.

No man operated vehicles could go in there obviously. They brought in state of the art science tech. One drone was a top secret fundamental to measure the temperature of the crater. From the beginning and further down. Figuring out the depth was a lot more trickier. They needed something powerful and something that had an incredible sonar scan reach. They needed the measurements to be accurate. This was the longest most enduring step of the whole experience. But it was eventually resolved. There was only one problem. Technically it wasn’t resolved cause the depth and heat temperature of the crater overpowered the best technology they had up to date. That’s when NASA got involved. Once they scanned it from space they concluded that it was a passageway directly to the core of the earth. Everyone was satisfied with the analogy. Until one of the scientist continued studying the subject research out of interest and made an accusation that NASA lied to them. The temperature was far far hotter than what scientists imagined the heat of the core would be. It was even hotter than the sun. When he confronted them, they spilled the truth and said their calculations actually concluded the depth and heat of the crater was endless.

Then on that fateful day, as the scientists and geologists were studying the crater, a large fist sized wasp flew out of the center of the large crater. Me and John were sitting on beach chairs, relaxing about 4 miles away. The wasp apparently reached us and stung John. That’s when all hell broke loose. Literally. It started out small. We were unable to identify the unusually large insect to the hospital and what not. The sting was powerful and painful. It left a red mark with what looked to be a big clear sore zit in the middle of the mountain of red flesh where John was stung. The sore grew and grew. Dumbfounded, we had no idea how to stop it and nor what was going on. Soon it was bigger than his whole body. Then it grew until it left the room and destroyed the hospital. Me and his family members did our best to eliminate the bump sore. We stayed with him until his head was no longer visible. It seemingly never stopped growing. Cities were destroyed. Hundreds and thousands of people killed. Then regions. Then countries and continents. 8 months later, it had reached the bottom of the ocean. All people were dead on earth. It was a mass extinction. However, it wasn’t over. When I passed, I felt relief, until my realm was interrupted by the last souls on earth. Then random spirit realms started disappearing or being overpowered. It reached even the spirit realms. Nothing could stop it, the universe was consumed. The essence of life. The suns, even darkness. I’m the last one I believe. Our Lord has left us, whatever waits for me is irrelevant prior to my situation prior to what shall transpire. Whatever it is, it’s not going to be good or pleasant............

[jollyviscreal666]

Fear

Fear is fear. Nothing but dread. Itll knaw away at your soul until you are dead.

Let it be your guide to light. As reaching the end seems nothing but a fright.

If you let it, it’ll take you to places you’ve never been.

We will never know for sure, the real cause of this dread. It will never be clear to us in life. Until death comes to sweep us up in a strife.

Fear is fear, how can it ever be so near? Brace yourselves cause the essence is here.

[jollyviscreal666]

The New World(entry no.2)

It’s been 4 months since my last entry. I have been through a lot since then. Nothing short from my last adventure I there to described. I have been to two survival sanctuaries. Supposedly designed for safety. As well as the welfare of our planet and it’s newfound stats.

There is one thing prior to me of which I’m certain. The new world along with its events not only gives my life purpose as I have previously perceived, but rendered me a seemingly infinitely jubilant soul. That’s the only way I can put it. Whereas to others it does the opposite based on what I’ve experienced. Fortunately, I’ve met people at the third sanctuary, counting the first where I was left for dead, that have similar feelings. I am going to recount my experience at the scientific institute in which I was a potential resident.

Honestly, I fell like this sanctuary held more sentimental feelings of dread then the previous events that followed up to it. I refer to the base. I didn’t kill nearly as many infected, yet the only thing that feels infected is my tolerance. I’m struggling to find out what about it is. Perhaps the near un perceivable amount of carnage left me baffled in a brutal way. Watching people I know along with friends I made turn into delicacies for the endorsed maniacal infected denizens. This was the real deal. This institute. You supposedly get used to the carnage. But I’m this infected world, getting used to constant carnage is like getting punched in the nuts when you’re the toughest guy on the planet. And it only gets worse.

I did make one ally before I arrived to the next sanctuary. The pilot I rendered under my command to do as I said. He goes by Don. He made his living in this new world by offering his skills in the form of services in exchange for supplies and a shelter. We left the armored vehicle in a spot we considered to be decent as we flew over the supposed mine field. I had my sniper ready and I told Don to be on high alert. Then after we landed and as we were scanning the place, we established a friendship after a 20 minute conversation. I was happy I found someone to relate to. The last person I could relate to was Bryce Reyes and I have no idea where he was. I still don’t.

We were getting ready to turn back. Then we spotted an SOS smoke marker. The white smoke drifted into the air with a steady pace. We decided to make our way to it. We were heavily armed one could say. Me with a suppressed glock and him with a suppressed beretta. We also carried a primary weapon. Me with an SIG Saur sniper rifle, and Don with an G 46 assault rifle. Near the bolt operation mechanism near the top, was a stamped imprint labeled: SiG Sauer SSG 2000. It was a pretty handy weapon. It was my first time using it. I had used my glock to eliminate nearby infected who we stumbled upon. We agreed more than likely it signifies that there’s got to be a pack of them somewhere nearby. So we proceeded with caution. Soon we reached the source of the signal. Although there seemed to be no sign of survivors. I thought maybe it was too late.

It was a house. Like a fancy residence building. Something you’d expect a mayor of a town to live in.

We were right about the pack. They were lingering about, in and out, and through the two story house. As usual with defected bodies with cut open parts and blood dripping. They were too focused on something to draw attention to us. Although I was sure one of them gave a glance to our presence. I picked off about 30 if them, leaving me with 1 more clip. I placed about 10 more clips nearby discreetly. I equipped two, leaving me with 15 rounds, plus my suppressed glock. I was confident it was all I needed to clear the area. Then again, there could be more packs waiting inside. I told Don to retrieve the armored vehicle and the copter so we could escape when necessary. I also told him, I was going to explore the area by myself. He questioned it. But I shrugged it off and told him his role was more important. He took off.

As I advanced towards the estate, I realized the smoke was coming from inside the house. I reached the door. I opened it. I lied my eyes upon 3 strangely figured infected individuals. Their faces were caved in and had a strange bone crest on their forehead. They made some kind of hissing sound. Their spine seemingly protruded from their backs, but not hard enough to brake their rotten skin layers. Two of them were feasting on featureless corpses who’s first two layers of flesh had been completely removed. The one closest to the door I just opened, opened it’s mouth slightly and some colorless saliva type liquid dropped on the corpses featureless face. I looked closely to see the skinless corpses face meat layer slowly deteriorate. But only very mildly so. Then the skinless corpse slightly moved a limb. It’s forearms as well. A third skinless corpse was missing its lower torso. On the left side of its face all the meat layers have been removed revealing its skull eye socket. It barely moved as well. Its rib cage hung out and some normal infected feasted on the remaining origins of that deceased individual. Blood was smeared all over the floor.

These corpses they were feasting on looked fresh. As if it only recently occurred. The crest headed infected closest to me then threw his head in haste at me and snarled. Mouth dripping with the strange liquid. I aimed at its head and fired. It’s crest prevented the slug from entering its brain. It charged at me. I dodged its ram as it hit the wall. It then surprisingly backed up and began gargling. The other standard infected individuals took after it in a sense of leadership. I could tell it was going to projectile that liquid my direction. I hastily boosted my body for cover. I used a standard room door detached from its hinges. Thankfully the knob was still on it. I held onto it. The liquid seemed to have eaten through the wood as termites wound do. But only 8 minutes after. 4 seconds after the liquid hit the door, I rammed it as hard as I could. Which wasn’t very hard cause of the weight.

The crest heads moved significantly faster than the standard infected. Still not as fast as runners though. The crest head fought to reach me from the other side. I decided to blind the fucker and destroy its jaw. The 3 standard infected followed shortly behind. I also took its fingers off disabling its slash attacking ability. I carefully counted my last 3 rounds in my glock as the standard infected individual increasingly advanced. It had no sight , no jaw, and no fingers. Still it somehow sensed I was close to reaching a dead end in the hallway. It thrashed about. I dropped the antsy standard dead head behind him accurately. Then I realized the only way to kill it or destroy it was to remove the head from its body. Right then and there I knew I needed my Sauer rifle to do so. I detached the suppressor of the Sauer rifle. I didn’t want to take any chances. I needed to fire fast and efficiently. Not accurately. Not then. It was harder than I had previously perceived. It took 3 shots to create a crater in its neck near the Adam’s apple, knocking it out with other fleshy parts all over the place. The 3rd shot definitely slowed it down. It was beginning to get weaker due to the near slight detachment of its neck. But it kept itself moving. I had 2 more rounds left. I apparently got lucky because the first shot I landed dislocated the remaining flesh tendons from its deep cratered neck. It’s head hung from meat tendons. Some with fresh dead flesh on them. I landed a final shot. And believe it or not it was a lucky shot as well going through its sternum to its head after exiting the back of the sternum. The last standard zombie approached in a curious manner only to have a bullet plummet through its skull. The last remaining in the living room of the house was a crest head. He was chewing on the corpse of the skinless corpse before. Only now it was only a drenched skeleton with pieces of meat hanging off of it. I’m almost glad they’re that stupid. I would appreciate more of a challenge but every scruff I get into with these dead heads, I risk my life. Technically I do anyway. I put a slug in its upper side of its head.

For a moment I thought it was over. Then I heard a scream. My combat sessions with the undead seemingly attracted a lot of infected. They more than likely followed the flare signal marker smoke then smelled the trapped individual upstairs. I looked to split, but the entrance was getting blocked off by dead heads. I inserted the last clip I had for my glock handgun. I was very careful to land perfect headshots as I progressed to find a way out. I equipped my combat knife at the ready as well for personal close encounters. I thought I was done for. There were too many and they kept poring in. Then Don arrived in the armored vehicle and mowed them down with a SAW light machine gun. I was very grateful. I owed him one. I got in the armored vehicle with him and we sped off. We drove back to the helicopter. Don flew the helicopter of course. Me, driving, we stayed in contact via radio connection by an external input where it was compatible with our vehicles.

After about an hour of searching, we finally came upon what looked like to be a standard amateur survival camp. Needless to say, it’s members were not present at the time. Then we stumbled upon a trail. It seemed like these survivors have relocated. We followed the trail briefly just to be safe. Guns at the ready. To our surprise, there was an open field. It had been covered in trees until someone cut them all down. It’s anyone’s guess as to why. Before we advanced, a human figure zoomed out at us with wit and skill. Me and Don fired a couple of rounds and missed. He put his hands up. He had a crossbow on his back.

“Don’t shoot, I’m here to help”! He blurted out. We kept our guns on him.

“My names Zach and I can help”?

“What do you mean? What are you doing out here”? I questioned.

“Just surveying the neighboring grounds is all” Zach replied. He removed the crossbow from his back and put it on the ground humbly.

“What happened to the folks of those camps”? I asked.

“Some rabid gangs have been trying to take over these parts for awhile now. Many groups tried to fight back and it became a bloodbath. It’s under control now. We took care of it”.

“Whose we”? I asked.

“Wait, How come you showed up just before we were about to go on that field”? Asked Don suspiciously.

“I was just about to get to that”, stated Zach.

“It’s a fucking mine field. Product of all that stuff I just told you. I tried to save you”.

“Thanks”, I said plainly.

“Where’s your base”? I asked him.

“I’m not really supposed to tell survivors about it”, he said. Before he could continue, I spoke.

“Hold that thought”. I went to grab our trusty armored vehicle that has pulled us through for a good while. I showed him our weapons and explained how we could be of use. He generously agreed to introduce us to his base. I asked him how far it was. He said with our vehicle it would take no longer than 8 minutes.

The base turned out to be a cdc scientist institute. According to Zach, it was once a hospital. Then after the breakout it became a safe haven for survivors, doctors, and scientists alike. The leaders of the institute had made many reconfigurations to the place prior to the breakout. Especially after things settled down and the first wave of survivors attempted to reach salvation, I’d imagine. They called it the Obin institute. Not sure why, though. The institute is at least a couple of kilometers more wide than the first base and had a bigger antenna sticking out of the top. Some state of the art shit, I imagined. Definitely larger and seemingly more advanced than the last bases antenna. And for an hour after we arrived once I’d seen it, I had hope this would be our salvation. Needless to say, it wasn’t even close.

Like the last base, the institute had its own security military type style personnel. There were actually 3 branches in the institute. The first one, or the main priority rather, were the doctors and scientists who did the research prior to the outbreak and continue to do so. The second, were the security personnel, armed to the teeth. No different than last base. Although this one had more guards. The place was bigger and seemed to deem some sort of importance. We would find out soon. The dress code for the security forces were different than the previous. They were a darker shade of blue. Some wore hazmat type light plastic wear, and some just leather dark blue. Sometimes they even wore hazmat masks when guarding closed to survivors section or other secret studies. This caught my attention. Most bothered not to give a care.

That day, at the lunch table, we met two remarkable individuals.

“What do you think the deal is with the freaky cdc type masks the security are wearing”? I asked Don quietly. Don looked over to them guarding the entrance. There were two sets of them. One guarding the back exit, and one the sections of the institute entrance. Specifically, the scientist doctors headquarters.

“It’s probably part of the agreement. You know how this new world makes people act”, stated Don.

“I hope this place isn’t locked down on policy personnel procedures”, I said.

“I’m more worried about what they put into this food! I mean...who do you know who cooks something like this”?! Exclaimed Don.

“I’m about to launch a complaint file to the kitchen zone so they can get their shit together”, he continued. Then a friendly female voice spoke seemingly out of nowhere.

“You’ll eat what they give you, period. There’s not many options to getting your ways here at this place. I’m Anne”. Next to her was a fairly built male.

“This is Jerry, you must be new”, she said.

“I’m Josh and this is my friend slash pilot Don”, I said. We got acquainted. She and Jerry explained the physical layout of the institution. There were 6 sections of the whole institute. The first was the main HQ. Then came the work stations of the survival personnel including education sessions for young ones about the outbreak, the infected and whatnot. Then there was the security HQ. Next comes the vital Research labs stations filled with doctors and scientists for their work. Then the waste and trash compartments where the sewer pipes lead and where infected remains were disposed of, as we learned. The last two are vital as well with one of them being secret kept by the main scientist doctor organizers of the institute. The secret one was where they kept the genetically altered infected we learned later. Their goal was not just to solely find a cure but to explore the genetics and possibilities of the infected due to research and study. Implying that they had a group of hyper intelligent infected in there somewhere. Locked up. Kept secret from most of the personnel of the institute. Only few doctors knew of it. The last one was the last resort plan which consisted of a self destruct room with all kinds of explosives. Not just the shrapnel kind. There were rumors of nuclear warheads. This was top secret info. Me and Don figured it out prior to the institute outbreak before Jerry and Anne..... well we’ll get to that.

Apparently survivors were called in for monthly check ups. This made me feel uneasy in a place as organized and strict as this. It didn’t feel right. There were rules and rewards for those who ace their check ups. More privileges were attained. More freedom and whatnot. About 68 percent of the time in the institute was idly social. The rest was work and eating(also partly social). Jobs and assignments were based upon what the scientists and doctors needed for their current research. For the good of the survivors, the institute, mankind and whatnot. You were required to work and assist the institute if you wanted to stay there. It was fairly paced and gave survivors free social time. It went well for most and seemed to be a good fit. Except for the check ups. After awhile, the four of us started noticing that every now and then someone would not return from their check up. The institute was very sly about this. They did their best to keep the survivors distracted and lied to them. Then they promoted the suspicious ones and whatnot. We even fell victim to this a couple of times. Then we decided to do something about it. In the course of a month, we became acquainted with a devastated individual by the name of Dean. We were very sympathetic towards him. His little brother had been gone for almost two months. He was distraught. We came up with a plan. It needed to happen sooner or later. Because we knew whatever they were doing was in favor of the research this facility was conducting. And boy were we right.

We took a huge step. If was a huge risk. Very dangerous if we got caught. We eventually made it to the depletion of dangerous chemicals department. You didn’t need special clearance to get in. Also implying no electronically locked door was in the way. This proved to be their downfall. However, they never expected anyone to rebel such as we did. We ran into the remains of his brother and several other survivors we were acquainted and even befriended by. One by the name of James was diced up from his knees to his upper chest, most of his body missing. Dean and two other friends were distraught. Dean couldn’t help but to release a mild outburst. Whatever he hit, he activated the mini mechanical machine like tubes connected to the clean un operated head of the dead one called James. The head made an unearthly screeching sound and it’s eyes rolled to the back of its head. It vibrated. The diced meat and organs of James in a blender type compacter, began turning the diced pieces into liquid. Blood spat out of the heads mouth. Then strained out the ears, nose, and eyes with intense flow.

“Turn it off!”, screamed Dean. I spun to the crew and told them now is the chance to escape and start a battle to fight for our lives against the institutes personnel. They gave it all they had. Right after the incoming security were ambushed and killed by us. We took their weapons and got ready for the next wave. We apparently forgot to double tap one of the corpses from the first wave. Unbeknownst to us ,the viral infected didn’t attack us. It knew. It just wanted to feed. So it messed around the blender compacter as we massacred the second wave. Eventually it got the lid open and detached it. It went to town and drank from it like a smoothie from heaven. How did I know? Well I could hear it. I was just too busy killing assholes to pay attention to our unwanted guest. Eventually the greedy fucker took a chunk out of Gabe right before vomiting a single series of its smoothie and head right on us. Then we blew its head off, obviously.

We made it to the announcement room baring only 4 casualties counting Gabe. We had a defector in the kitchen slash HQ. He set the area on fire, metaphorically speaking. Soon all hell broke loose. Me and Don were lucky enough to retrieve our vehicles as they were confiscated and defected by the institute. It was a huge battle. Very savage and violent. Survivors versus security personnel. Luckily, the institute wasn’t prepared for the onslaught, meaning however many survivors died, we breached the scientist doctor HQ research experimentation area. Many of the survivors, knowing what the doctors were responsible for, lead them to their horrible deaths. Such as drowning in the blood, guts, and remains of infected, slow brain frying, quartering procedures designed for infected and so much more. It seemed we were triumphant. A lot of it was because of me and Dons defense play I’ll admit. With my infamous armored vehicle and it’s weapons. Especially cause we found a cannon that fits onto the vehicle. We killed many. However, as the threat of the security died down, there was the evident threat of the oncoming infected attracted by the battle. Thousands at the gate to the institute.

It wasn’t long until someone discovered the secret room. I never got to see what it looked like and part of me is glad I didn’t. However the intelligent infected became loose. There were 4 of them. Two looked to be of African descent. One bald the other with a Bob Marley hairstyle. Their mouths were covered in blood. The haired ones jaw was hung ajar. But it’s hand flesh and muscle were chewed off until the end of the forearm. The fleshed out bone wasn’t a hand but more of a fingerless implant of some sort of sharpened chain piece it seemed. The other two were American militarily generals it seemed. Right after the infected made their way in, me and Don were mowing down wages of oncoming infected. Anne and Jerry were with us at first but realized they needed to prevent the outside infected from finding other ways to breach the institute. They always do. As usual we had the unfortunate luxury of witnessing their deaths. Jerry mowed down the two military generals who had managed to kill and mutilate 8 survivors. Almost killing Anne as well. Then he was decapitated by the zooming smart infected with the chain piece. Anne attempted to mow it down. It apparently made a circle where it met up with the other one. They each stabbed their limbs(hands with arms)into both of her sides. They ripped her in two staring from the middle. The middle of her body as well as her chest became separated, creating a hole in her body in which the hole spread as a tear to her neck and downwards to her groin as well. Until she was separated completely in two. Her blood and insides of her body lost their gravity the instant it happened. I then also witnessed a guy get his heart ripped out and eaten by them almost as fast as when they killed Anne. He was alive and watched them eat it. It was time for an endgame to get the hell out of this place. Unfortunately, there was still more to witness before we were free. Infected just being themselves. And people used to think that was a good thing.

We realized more deadheads were becoming apparent because the two smart infected have cracked some infected attracting tech of which I am familiar with. Although I wasn’t surprised they had it here. So we attempted to locate the source. We attempted a shortcut we believed to be plausable. It just lead to another infected hellhole. Although this time there was plenty to see. This is all I recall: a torsoless rotter with intestines dangling out the side of its ribcage was feasting on a dead security mans torn open thorax, slowly. Then an obese infected with its giant stomach layer flaps open. It’s ribcage was visible and it held its intestines as did two other legless infected. It stared at me viciously. It put its intestine in its mouth. I observed all this very quickly. Then I looked up. It only got worse. There were dozens of blood covered infected seemingly taking other more rotten infected apart to either connect more limbs to already limbed infected for fun, or attempt to put the disassembled rotten infected back together. They used intestines to tie the body parts in place. Many intestines. It was as it appeared. Whether they were successful or not is something we’ll never know and I pray you never will. That’s all you need to know. We hauled ass out of there. The smart one eventually caught up to us. The other ‘artists’ reaching out to him slowly. Him zooming by without regards. We stayed in the vehicle. It ran from one side of the vehicle to the other, tirelessly. A helicopter came by. We were lucky to find a un designated route out of the compound. We thought we got luckier. Nope. It was a high ranking doctor who did business with the institute. He almost killed Don, but I got him in time. Knowing how many trackers were in the copter, we blew it up. We took off. The dead, arriving like vultures. Nothing really changes anymore once you think about it. We’ve been searching for gas for awhile now.

[jollyviscreal666]

Vermin

New York City, underground subway, 1989.

The underground subway was lit up with dead green lights which gave the whole scenery a gloomy dull, eerie appearance. This used to be a frequently used subway terminal. Until everything changed.

The subway, stretching a good 2 miles started out as a busy structure. Once in the train, you could get off anywhere between Manhattan and the Bronx. It was the largest subway ever constructed in New York. The train trams were well connected and the tracks were reinforced with powerful steel. Such an expensive addition to the community by the government to such an infamously corrupted city. God knows what was on the Federal governed public systems mind. New York has a history of murders, mugs, mobs, and mayhem. It didn’t seem like a good idea to construct such an establishment during the year. Crime rates were high, they just caught Rosetti, the pimp\mob gangster. They were looking for him for years. And as any boneheaded fool would know, so many criminals and thugs would use such an establishment to their benefits. The sky’s the limit.

But the establishment didn’t last long. Aside from countless criminally induced acts and, you name it, apparently something stranger and more sinister seemed to be going on. Sure there were gang fights that broke out every now and then. A murder or a mugging here and there, but when authorities started taking note that more disappearances were taking place than usual, they knew something was out of sorts. They were used to finding dead bodies every now and then. Until they came upon one that shocked and puzzled them. It was a 35 year old man by the name of Bill Price. Forensics confirmed it. The body was missing its flesh almost entirely and the organs of the corpse were pulled out of the body and have been mildly shredded. When they examined the corpse, they could see whatever removed his skin and pulled his organs out did it slowly. Like some small critter ate into him. One investigator suggested rats. Quite frequent in the subways for the year. Especially the new one. More space o my means more rats. No one knows where the hell they came from. They’re just a bunch of pesty vermin waiting to get pulverized by some gangs AK-47s. According to census records; the most rats seen in one place was seen by Sara Mosley. 12 scattering about. A record for New York subway systems. But god knows if they have a taste for human flesh. Maybe Bill Price was murdered in cold blood and the pesty vermin devoured him cause they couldn’t find anything else to eat. However, according to the forensic investigators, the way his body was desiccated meant someone or something brutally savaged him from the start. Plus they have chemically measured time estimations from the corpses time frame of death and what not.

The subway is pretty deep underground. Another inconvenient factor. It makes it so when fucked up shit goes down, no essentially relevant authority individuals can conjure up more personnel for safety. So if something goes down, everybody’s fucked.

It’s October 13th on a Wednesday. Two days ago another body was found. The condition of the skinless corpse was similar to Bill Price. A body was also found on the 8th. Needless to say, it was found the same. Not only were the 3 corpses similarly mutilated, but they were all found near a specific location. Near gateway 4, terminal 40. It’s no coincidence that terminal has been known for sink holes, disturbingly foul oders, and plumbing leakage. The worst part was that beneath the train tracks were deep crevasses in the earth drilled deep by the Government transportation system construction department. They extended throughout the whole damn length of the train. But at terminal 40, there’s a crevasse so deep, there have been rumors of it reaching the underworld and what not. All this paranormal superstition bullshit. All of these reasons were probably why construction around the mysterious crevasse, or whatever the fuck it was(some deep ass hold in the earth), was permanently ceased.

It was Friday, October 15th. The subway was unusually occupied. The economy was booming; reaching a new level of achievement. A suspiciously coated figure walked forward. He wore a classically stereotypical detective investigator type uniform. Or the black leather coat with the collar straight up. He wore an al Capone styled hat and carried a briefcase. Everything black. As he walked forward people wondered how he could see where he was going with the hat in the way of his peripheral vision. He had skills.

Gate 3, Terminal 30. The man was one whole stop away from the next section. If he took the train, he’d reach it in 20 minutes. He waited for the next stop. Once it arrived, he stepped in. All eyes landed on him. He reached in one of his smaller pockets on his leather coat near his thorax and retrieved a notepad. The other he pulled out a pen. He flipped through his notes.

The tram he was in consisted of about 20 individuals. But the most of which were drawn to him by appearance were a short business man, a fat black woman with curly black hair, a Hispanic street thug, a white mother with her young 12 year old daughter, and a pesty looking white male with no sleeves on a white t-shirt.

The white guy with no sleeves trying to show his cleavage came over. He had gum in his mouth.

“Sup”, he blurted. The outstandingly fitted man with the detective figure and notepad looked up.

“Hi”, he replied mildly and without much emotion. The man just stood there. He hung on a rail up top with one arm. He held his other one out to the mysterious man.

“I’m Mitchel, but you can call me Mitch the hitch”. The business man grinned.

“I haven’t seen you around. Must be new. Deep filing organizer in the mayors palace by the looks of ya!”, white tee said obnoxiously. There was some mild smirking. The train rocked. He was still standing in the same spot. The mysterious man was trying his best to ignore him. White tee began to peek over to the other mans notepad.

“Do you mind!”, exclaimed the mysterious man, annoyed. White tee through his hands up in gesture. Still not moving, he flipped out a knife from his pocket. A flip knife blade. It flipped open as he pulled it out.

“You ever seen one of these?”, White tee asked obnoxiously. The mysterious man gazed at him with an abhorrent facade. The man flipped the knife in the air mildly and caught it by the handle every time. Still chewing his gum.

“Pretty neat huh?”, he implied.

“Yeah, hold on I think I got something”, began the mysterious man. He reached toward his back and slid his hand into the secret compartment on the back of the coat. He pulled out a cigar. Before anyone could react, the coated man pulled the dissolvable fake material off the cigar in a flash and launched a knife at the man. But it knocked the knife out of the white tees hand. He stumbled back, heart pounding. He mumbled a curse word. The mysterious man gestured his eyebrows to him. Suddenly an angry look overtook white tees facade. Everyone who was drawn by the mysterious mans appearance was looking at one another in awe. Next time the train shook, white tee took out a lighter and purposefully knocked the notepad out of his hand and set it on fire. He forced a grin he knew he was going to regret.

“Oops”, he muttered. The darkly coated man zoomed to him and slammed the mans face onto the tram window without much effort. White tees nose broke immediately. Blood gushed out. He continued to slam his head and face into the hard glass until a little crack was visible. By the 8th slam, he glanced at the passengers. Their eyes lit up in fear. Soon it will be panic. He finally stopped slamming the corpses head onto the tram window and let his body drop with its dripping disfigured face. He knew someone was going to make a move. 3 out of the 4 who we’re paying attention to him were crying and freaking out. Even the Hispanic thug felt uneasy.

The mysterious man undid the Velcro in the middle of his black leather coat and suddenly he got a whole lot skinnier. He pulled out two mini 8mm Colt revolvers. 4 people tried to escape from the tram. He shot them all down.

“I’ve got a whole case of slugs and more pieces, we could do this all day, so shut the fuck up and do what I say!!!!”, he demanded forcefully. The white 12 year old girl with her mom screamed. Before he could point his gun at her, a 12 inch rat zoomed by and pierced its teeth into his black denim shoe and into his toe. It only went into his toe about 14 centimeters. It then scurried away before he could kick it. Unfortunately, the tram stopped right at the exit or entrance to the 4th gate. Which means he’s going to have to wrap this up quickly.

He then heard people in the front tram, screaming. They were blood curdling screams. He got out to see who caused that commotion.

“What the hell ?”, he muttered. What looks to be packs of rats are schooling up together moving towards his tram. A body stumbled back all chewed up and bloody. Holes in their clothing. She fell back dead. The rats seemed to have got the message and picked up speed towards his tram. He zoomed to the tram door to try to shut it. He knew this was going to be a hell show no matter what. Especially with this Trippy fuck shit.

Then they all started piling in. First by the ones then by three or four at a time. About 10 of them were already in the tram by the time the black dresses man retrieved his briefcase and fended off the rats that hissed at him and attempted to pounce on him. 5 or 6 went automatically to the corpse of the disfiguring face of the sleeveless man. They nibbled on his skin and did their best to dig into him. They created mini craters and spread them throughout his body. They created them pretty quickly. The more time that passed the deeper they got. The blonde white mother was fending off every razor sharped claws and teeth rodent that came their way while protecting her daughter by covering her with her body.

When 8 more came in, most of them joined the feast on the now faceless corpses body. Or the desecrated body of the long dead sleeveless male. They massacred the hell out of his dead disfigured face. Soon all you could see was layers torn open simply and the last layer before the bone of the skull with blue veins aligned. The rats going after the mom and her child finally figured out how to penetrate their defenses. A rat made it on top of the daughters head. It massacred her head and face with its claws. She screamed as mildly deep marks appeared all over her head and face. The mom zoomed to the knives on the floor from earlier. It was nearly next to white tees corpse whose head was now a skull and his entire body was covered in a frenzy of rats. The rats apparently took it as an offensive threat for her to invade their territorial space like that. A huge line of them formed and massacred her foot. They were so fast. So vicious. So angry. She felt bad for her daughter but she knew they were both going to die. Soon the back cartilage of her foot was cleanly torn open. She fell back on a seat, hopeless as they devoured her foot. Her daughter now had a deep piece of flesh missing from the back of her head. More than one were on her now trying to get to her eyes. The more they bled, the harder the rats tried to take them apart to feast on them. Most of the rats attacking the mom were devouring her feet up to her legs. About two minutes later, all layers of her flesh were gone. The lesser rats that scurried over her body were biting her lips off and digging into her nose cavity. The daughter was just crying as more craters of missing skin appeared all over her body. The deeper they got the more quicker she bled out. It took awhile for the rats to remove everything from the mother’s body. The child was covered up in rats a lot quicker. The fat black lady was surprisingly still alive with only a lot of craters around her body getting deeper by the minute. She screamed. She knew if she attempted any escape it would only get worse.

The business man successfully encased his head into his suit case and held onto his brief case for dear life, covering the front of his body. It was a leather briefcase. A hole was in it with blood.

The fat black lady soon caught sight of the deaf 12 year old girl. Her hair was still intact. But a rat waddled our of an unsuspected hole in the middle of her dead. The black lady, still being nibbled on , puked loads. This caused the rats to brutally massacre her face. They absolutely hated it. Soon she had a facade of a frenzy of rats on her face. More than there needed to be. It took 18 seconds before they parted, revealing her skull with tiny strings of meat hanging off.

The Hispanic thugs heart was brought out. His face was slowly devoured. What killed him was the deep Engraving of his abdomen by the rats.

The only one lucky enough to get away was the mysterious man. He ran to the best exit he believed would suit him. Unfortunately, the authorities were on their way down it. So he was blocked out after checking the other exit with the same conditions. He knew a sewer route system leading to the city. But was it safe? Those vermin could be waiting for him. He risked it. So far so good. He reached an intersection which he wasn’t sure about. He decided. He stepped in a room with thousands of rats. He shuttered in fear. A school of rats from the other side of the way in, blocked the exit. A menacing growl filled the air. Fear grew in him like none other. “Here comes Karma”, he thought. The rats drew a little closer to him.

A 4ft long mutant like rat zoomed down from the ceiling upside down to the wall. Then to the floor. It pounced at him. It sunk its teeth into his forearm near his hand. It chewed it slowly. It made the skin loose before it pulled it off slowly like a glove. The rest of the rats massacred him. They did the same. The mutant rat has the upper body, the others, the bottom. He screamed until he couldn’t hear himself scream anymore.

[jollyviscreal666]

The New World(entry no.1)

I’m not new to this world. Trust me, I know. Even before all of the chaos, before the national and international contingency plan, before the ultimate survival sanctuaries, I was still a young man with nowhere to go.

I was harassed and ridiculed by my several classmates. In a way, I think the new world served me better and gave me purpose; a good thing. Before all of that, just joke after joke from all of my classmates about how I looked, how I acted, and most of all, how I obtained information. I wasn’t good at it. Math was my worst subject. They’d ridicule me for that as well. Boys, girls, even the less popular crowd. I felt like I had no one. I had no one to fall back on when in need, if you can believe there was such a thing.

The students pickin dad-g on me became a regular routine. There was always that someone who stood up for the kid being bullied, and that student was Bryce Reyes.

We became friends and hung out a lot. The thing I liked most about Bryce, besides the obvious, was that he had a good sense of awareness. This trait was important in our friendship. He was at least 2 feet taller than me. We had a good amount in common. We loved to hunt. We loved guns. He paid good attention to my actions and the actions of others. As well as my surroundings.

Bryce, after having hunting as a hobby, told me he was thinking about going into the military, whereas I had no plans.

We went hunting a good amount together. He was the one who introduced me to personal defense pocket pistols. He once told me the harassment I took from my peers was way out of control. I shrugged it off and told him not to worry about it. He insisted and what he had to offer was a good deal. He told me I was just as good as anybody else and I could join any club in school I wanted to. He said I can even try to talk to girls. He handed me a pocket pistol and said,

“This will keep you safe when you’re walking home from school. Don’t shoot it unless you absolutely have to”.

I remember one time I was so scared of getting jumped, I asked if he could walk with me. He agreed and just as you may have guessed, the bullies showed up. Five of them. Their intentions weren’t good at all. I bet they were horrible. I’m so glad he was with me. We threatened them with our guns. They questioned how we concealed them from the school before they ran off.

A couple of weeks later, arrived the beginning of it all. Personally, it started with a video Bryce showed me.

“You like horror hoaxes, right”? He implied playfully.

It was a video of some sort of skin autopsy, I thought. There was a shriveled woman and her flesh was dark for some reason. They picked her flesh off with some sort of carving medical autopsy utensils. The woman showed no signs of discomfort or pain. Although she was moving such as a cheap special effects animatronic would for a movie.

“That’s sick, who the fuck would post that”? I asked.

“Viralnewz.org”, he replied.

“It’s got 8.4 million views but only 8 comments”, he continued in his enthusiastic tone. Apparently there was a part 2 to the video. I refused to watch it, as the first one was enough.

That week, the news was more constant and frantic as usual. No one payed much attention to it at first. It apparently started as a small anomaly. However, it grew very very quickly. I’m sure the government kept things from the public, but soon the threat would become un containable. Authorities were ordered to be on alert, citizens were cautioned, even some highways and streets were closed.

Apparently, everything lost control on that one day. The day I was sitting through a boring biology lecture. That was the day Bryce had to go to a funeral. Apparently, whatever the government was planning, our town was being quarantined. Soon, the news released the fact that there was a deadly virus and that we can’t leave the town in worries of infecting other parts of the country. It got so bad, the riots ceased, and huge platoons of the military came abroad, telling all to stay inside. Such as a warning. Regardless, the hectic atmosphere did not calm down. The school was evacuated, and I ran home frantically to make sure my parents were ok. They were put, watching the news in shock.

“What the hell is going on”? I asked frantically.

“Probably some government containment fuckup”, replied my father.

“Could be just a national emergency drill. Let’s pray it is”, said my mother as she put her hand onto my shoulder.

“Are we gonna be okay?” I asked.

She put her hands on my face in affection.

“Of course we are. Our good lord would never let us all parish in a national emergency”, she said with hope in her voice.

I looked worried, more than likely.

“Do we have to leave the state”? I asked.

“We should just sit it out, it should resolve itself. As long as we stay inside, we should be ok”, implied my father.

I looked over to the television to hear that the panic was on a global scale. At that moment, I lost all hope of staying in our house. I knew eventually we’d have to move out no matter what. I did. My parents didn’t.

The next door neighbor ran to us frantically and insisted the news was telling the truth. There was a virus spreading and infecting individuals. He recalled he saw his best friend, Richards body spazzing out. He could tell he was infected because of his pale skin. He stated moving slow at first, then started spazzing according to our neighbor. When we went to go check him out, our neighbors wife was surprisingly dead. We spazzed out in shock and horror. She was ripped or torn open from end to end, and the worse part was Richard seemed to be feasting on her corpse. Her eyes were open. I’ll never forget how I felt the first time I laid my eyes on something like that. His skin was indeed pale. It was almost as if he had a skin disease that killed his skin cells. It was bland as well.

We immediately zoomed with my father to get his shotgun. When we returned, we were surprised to find out a blast to the chest did not kill the infected individual. It seemed to be moving slow at first. My father blasted it in its chest about 18 inches away. He went to finish it as he saw it still moving. That’s when it zoomed at him and swung its arm at my father. My father, frantically pulled the trigger and blew its forearm off. Then it unexpectedly zoomed again, this time reaching my father and taking a chunk from his forearm. He screamed as if in unbelievable pain. I took the shotgun and blew its face off. I pumped it again and shot it in its faceless head. It finally died.

We escorted my dad back to our house. Our neighbor, a look of overwhelming concern of shock and horror. I felt bad for him. Bad and sorry. After our welfare, he has to deal with the fact his wife was killed, and not in a very peaceful way.

“Thank you for your help. Get help, call anyone you can and be careful”!

He zoomed away. My mother attended to my father and told me to keep reaching out to the hospitals. All the calls went to an emergency redirection line that told you how to take care of a hurt one. Of course, with all the hectic happenings, they didn’t include one about how to treat an infected bite as it all was happening so fast. When I went back to check on my mom, she was sobbing with her head on my fathers arms. He seemed to have passed out.

“Mom what is it? What happened”?! I demanded.

“I don’t know”, she replied in her sobbing state.

I felt so bad for her and for my father. My first thought was my father died. What happened next is was a great turning point in my life. My father seemed to start to wake up. At that moment, the old me died and the new me was born. The moment my fathers eyes opened and he began to slowly move, I knew something wasn’t right. My mother on the other hand, who was mourning over him, seemed to give him the benefit of the doubt. Out of love, more than likely.

It was the last mistake she ever made. My father, now no longer my father, grabbed my mother’s forearm and took a huge chunk out of it. I froze in horror as I witnessed my father who just tore a big chunk of flesh and muscle from her forearm. The denizen then moved up with speed near my mother’s neck and tore another chunk of flesh and muscle between her neck and shoulder. More blood spewed and fell. A huge splatter onto the wall from that one. She screamed in pain and agony of course.

My instincts told me to take off to get my fathers shotgun. Fortunately, but unthankfully, my ex father was busy with my mother’s corpse. When I returned, my eyes became fixed on the corpse of my mother. My ex father seemed to be feasting on my mother’s bowls. Her stomach was torn open as he bit her intestines apart. It was an agonizing, horrific sight. Especially because they were my parents. I blew my dads face off. The blast took off about 3 layers of his face it seemed. His skull face was shattered. He fell face first, blood filling up in a streak, traveling to my feet. Then miraculously, my mother began to move prior to her torn open abdomen and insides hanging out. I did the same to her.

Not knowing what to make of what just transpired, I ran out of my neighborhood. I saw no one outside. I drove my fathers truck once I retrieved the keys from his corpse. I drove to our local pawn shop. The corpses wallets contained everything I needed to purchase a set of firearms. The shops owner, our friend, was cooped up behind his desk with the firearms up the wall.

“Bill”! I exclaimed.

His head turned with haste.

“Josh, good to see you’re still kicking”.

“What the hell is going on”, I said.

“Some huge international epidemic”.

“Where is everybody”? I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Everything was all hectic. There was screaming, gunshots, and frantic drivers. Even crashes. It lasted up to 4:00”, he implied.

“I need an M24 reduced recoil with a suppressor”, I demanded.

“Shit, take whatever you want. Whatever the hells out there it’s spreading like the flu in Antarctica, and on a scale bigger than the red death”! He exclaimed.

I nodded my head.

“Here, take the G18 and the AR-15”, he said handing me the firearms. I looked up at him in surprise.

“Take care of yourself”, he called to me.

“What about you”? I asked.

He smiled and said he has his ways.

I moved outside in a valley near my neighborhood. I removed the suppressor from the M24. I fired 3 shots in the air. Soon, before I knew it, there were 8 infected among me. I inserted the suppressor and shot them all down with headshots. More arrived moving slow and sluggish. Some more rotted than others. Some horribly mutilated. I mowed them down. I didn’t even need the G18 I hooked to my hip nor the AR-15 I placed about 12 meters away discreetly.

I moved into town. That was when I first encountered the runners. I mowed down 2 hordes with the AR-15. Sounds such as loud explosions or constant unsuppressed automatic fire attract runners. It was intense. First 2 came after me. I was surprised to see them move with cunning speed. It was more difficult to land a headshot. I wished I had asked Bill for a shotgun. One almost caught me from behind. Soon, 4 were on my tail. I ran as fast as I could, spraying hip fire while doing my best to rotate my torso. I ended up climbing a gate. Soon 8 runners appeared. I ran out of AR-15 rounds. I had 2 more clips left. I whipped out the G18 and mowed the now 5 of them down.

3 more appeared. I was chased into a an abandoned office building. There was graffiti on the walls. By then rows and rows of infected swarmed the area. I saw swat officers and even firefighters who were infected. Then a military humvee arrived along with a heavily armored tank. Soldiers zoomed out and they tried to mow down as many infected as possible.

When they cleared the area, I ran out to them. They were in a state of caution at first. They didn’t accept my presence with generosity at first. I had to put my weapons up and they confiscated them.

They introduced me to their 18 wheeler carriers that could hold tons of products. They were also suitable for carrying people, and that’s what they were using them for. There were literally hundreds of them filled with about 40 individuals each. I was assigned to one and a platoon supposedly responsible for the convoy. The destinations were large bases that held hundreds of people. Each vehicle was assigned to a base. Mine never made it. Apparently the base to which we were assigned to go to, was far. Even worse, too many infected began to swarm us. The worse part is, another convoy made it to our base before we did. It was a set up. One of those two convoys was meant to be left out. It so happened to be mine. The military issued an order prior to my convoy in the form of a code. The soldiers leading the convoy opened fire on us all. I miraculously survived. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I was buried beneath the dead bodies filled up with lead. I was covered in blood. The soldiers were then quickly became swarmed by waves of infected. They did not posses sufficient ammunition to destroy them all.

Nevertheless, they could smell me. I stayed hidden until I realized they were never going to leave. There were literally hundreds. They knew I was alive. They wanted to feast on us all. Like vultures. But I was alive goddamnit and seemingly helpless. I spotted an infected head separated from its body. And it was moving! It was the most disturbing thing I’ve witnessed so far. It was in front of the vehicle. I couldn’t fit through the opening. I took my knife out. I cut a corpses finger off. Then I detached arms from a corpses body to put them together. I had to remove the bone from one of the arms. I stuck it in the boneless socket of the detached arm. I did this with 3 arms. I was able to reach an M4 assault rifle in the front once I inserted the arm chain I made. I moved it a little to the left so I could grab it. I also grabbed a bag of frag grenades.

I moved away the bodies that toppled me and began my assault. I cleared out a path to which I took once executed. They were slow and sluggish like most I’ve already faced. I destroyed about 68 with the M4 and the frag grenades. On my last clip of ammunition for the M4, I knew my demise was evident. I knew there was no escape. Fortunately, in that moment, what appeared to be an advanced expensive military armored vehicle zoomed out. Most of the horde was cleared. The perpetrators zoomed out and threw me in the vehicle where we took off, immediately. They asked me who I was and if I was crazy. They seemed to be about in their early 20’s. I felt like I was being kidnapped but didn’t even care. They each carried a military firearm.

They took me to a base. The base almost looked like a large enclosed parking garage from the outside. Made completely of durable concrete. A tall fence surrounding the structure. It reminded me of a giant bunker. I later found it was a potential elite scientist and military strategy center. Specially constructed to keep everything secure. We will get to how it became abandoned.

The base was operated by a dictator type commander figure. He never gave his name for some reason. He only instructed he is to be referred to as “the leader”. The base housed over 400 survivors. The personnel that ran security swore loyalty to the leader. They were supposedly elite combat operatives, such as the leader himself.

I soon became his favorite candidate. He admired my survival skills and marksman talent. Each run or mission he sent me on, he tried to increase the difficulty, without implying my demise of course. My skills were tested and I survived. I felt good about it. I felt happy. It had been a long time since I’ve felt something like that. The leader had greater ambitions though. And that would be his downfall.

The leader was in touch with the leaders in other secret bases such as this one. He was also in contact with the panedemic leaders who tried to contain and diminish the outbreak of the infected. He even was in contact with the military. They traded resources for each other’s services. I found all this out before the place was breached.

The leader wanted to control all the bases. It was his primal ambition. However, things became worse when he found out the other sources were cheating him of supplies. He intended to destroy them. He first determined himself to wipe out the surrounding counties of the infected to prove his power. That was only the first step. The second was invading a massive weapons factory/corporation. He knew the whole corporation was being supervised by the military. Nevertheless, he intended to conquer it. He believed if he could gain all the resources of the weapons corporation, he could conquer everything. He failed in the end of course. It was the infected that met him prior to his demise.

He also sacrificed a lot of survivors on his conquest to clear the counties of the infected. He claimed he was going to look for other survival headquarters. That was bullshit.

We wore cameras to mark our locations. I remember we had to watch the cameras of the survivors who died on the mission. We were planning tactical locations to massacre the weapons plant. I will describe their deaths. Not because it is necessary, but because it’s what you’ll need if you are to survive.

The footage of the cameras were horrendous. The first one we viewed was of the survivor who was massacred by a wave. The wave showed no mercy. They were sick of being wiped out. About 5 of them stabbed their nails into his body and tore him open with one group pull. It was so fast, he was able to look at his entrails to cry to God. A second later he passed.

The second one was a friend of the first survivor. In frantic rage, he gutted the last infected individual standing after he wiped out the horde that murdered his friend. Then he shoved the infected’s entrails into its mouth. Mistake. The infected individual bit his finger off. By then a new horde was forming. One was a torso of a runner. It skidded quite fast. He didn’t notice it and it bit his ankle. The rest toppled him. They focused on the half runner and tore his leg off. Then the other. He was screaming in agony and pain for help. Then his arms even faster! Finally his head was torn off and they were able to separate his layers of his front body by access through the headless part of the body. They chowed down mindlessly on his remains. It was VERY messy.

We eventually took the weapons plant. One of the other higher ranking base official pretended to give in to the leaders threats. He told him he’d give him whatever he wanted. When the supplies arrived, he found he had been tricked. It was an elite infected organism magnet emitter. It attracted the infected from hundreds of miles away. It was set to go off at midnight. The leader prepared for a fight. He set up immense fire traps, and powerful mines with a huge blast radius. He got the supplies alright. But the emitter was the most powerful of all.

The infected eventually broke the gate and poured into the base. 3/4 of the base were prepared. However, the infected did not halt from entering the facility no matter how many they destroyed. The infected trapped all who were inside. Me and the leader were able to escape through the armored vehicle. When he claimed he was going to call for military backup, he unexpectedly jumped me and tied me to a tree. He threw a mini emitter in front of me. I looked at him in disgust. He betrayed me.

I was able to escape. I was VERY incredibly lucky. The torso knot was a little loose so when an infected approached, I jammed my fingers into its eyes and it launched its head forward. It bit the neck knot in half and I escaped. I took out my knife and killed all who came near me in adrenaline. I went up a hill. There were thousands of hordes making their way up here. I ran back to the armored vehicle and drove to the base. I collected over 100 firearms and placed them in the armored vehicle. I drove around in a square fashion underground in the code red area I recently found out about then. I killed as many as I could with a sentry I placed covering my back. I used various firearms until I was dry with each of them. I killed over 2000 infected individuals. It was the most traumatizing and tiring thing I’ve ever accomplished. When I was done, I went straight for the leader. In the supplies I found a tracker that tracked his whereabouts.

I searched base after base for him. Soon I found him. It wasn’t that hard. His false self ego brought him to me. I ambushed him and tied an emitter to him. I tied him up with tight steel wire. I brought him to his hideout and intended to escape on his helicopter. I didn’t want to leave the armored vehicle behind. Then the pilot walked out. I forced him to drive while I flew. I watched the infected tear the leader up. He cried in horror for mercy. Even louder when the actual hordes arrived. They targeted his mouth first cause of his screaming state. They instantly tore the top part of his head off up to the cheek line. His eyes still moved in panic miraculously. His tung throbbed soaked in blood. Then his tung was bitten off. The others began to tear him up slowly. The 3 that had fed top of his head tore the skin off of it and ate it. The woman figure peeled her finger flesh off to the bone with her rotted teeth. She then stabbed her bone finger into the back of the separated part, turning the head upside down to do so. She then ripped open the hole she created causing the whole upper head to turn inside out and cave in, finally separating it. She held the brain. The male figure stood there late, holding his own arm he bit off to use the bone to get to the brain. The female scolded at him for being late. The rest of the infected ate his body slowly. Part by part. I am searching for another fine establishment. Pray they have one. Until then, catch ya later!!