Trevor's Journal

[Torval]

Note: I have either edited or removed the profanity from the text to make it friendly to the forum. I apologize if the post reads strangely due to this.

Entry One

My name is Trevor and it’s been 182 days since I last saw another living human being. I had always considered myself a loner, a social outcast but now that most people are gone…I realize how wrong I was. It’s a miracle that I haven’t just gone insane and committed suicide by now. That moaning is relentless and enough to drive you mad. You know, the funny thing is that I used to plan for the zombie apocalypse. I found it fun to think of the different situations that I might come across and how I would deal with them. Man was I naive. This is not fun. It wasn’t even fun for the first few minutes. This is hell. No, this is worse than hell. At least people in hell can see each other and share in each other’s anguish.

I miss Sam. She was my best friend. I loved her and didn’t even know it until I had to ruthlessly hack her to pieces and toss her body into the burning husk of a car.

I don’t even know why I write. It doesn’t matter. No one will ever read this. I won’t even have a written legacy. All I have is this crappy 10x10 concrete communications shed that I have been holed up in for the past month. I’ve run out of places to defecate. Or rather, I’ve defecated so much that it is now filling up almost a whole corner of this room. Urine covers the floor. It smells worse than any backed up sewer I have ever came across. All I have to my name is two bottles of water, a package of beef ramen noodles, a can of corn, a black ink pen, a small notebook and a 9mm with an empty clip. I think I am going to die in here. I can hear them outside not too far away. I’m going to have to try to move soon. I’ll be out of food and water by tomorrow night.

I always wanted to be cremated. Now it seems like this feces and urine filled room is going to be my very own concrete coffin. The only viable weapon I have at this point is the claw hammer that was, thankfully, left in here. Tomorrow I’ll make my move and try to get supplies and somewhere safe. For all you god fearing citizens still alive, **** YOU. There is no god that would allow this and if there is then **** him! I make my move tomorrow. I’ll take as many of these monsters out as I can before I go down.

Trevor out.

[Torval]

Entry Two

I made it out of my cement tomb. I still don’t know how but when I opened the door I could see a pack of about twenty zombies roughly 50 yards away. They looked like they were just sleeping while standing up in the middle of the street. I didn’t stop to investigate further. I made my way as quickly and quietly as I could, down about three blocks, where I ran across a gas station. There power is out but there is limited light coming in from the windows. I quickly grabbed a box of granola bars and snuck into the cooler, shutting the door tightly behind me.

The cooler was actually a little hotter than outside and smelled of spoiled dairy products and rotten eggs but I couldn’t be happier. There are three cases of bottled water still in here, a few cases of beer and some packages of 20 oz soda bottles. Mountain Dew at that! I was pretty happy with myself and my find and tore into one of the granola bars in a hunger frenzy. Stupid me. I should have checked around the corner in the cooler first. I sat down and began to eat and drink to my heart’s content and in my blissful stupor, failed to hear the crawler sneaking out behind me. I suspect it would have moaned if it had a throat still. It bit down hard on the back of my calf and I flipped out. I stood and swung my arms behind myself frantically, hoping to knock the creature off balance as I turned around. Much to my dismay, I caught only air with my hands. I looked down and saw the disgusting fiend that was latched onto my leg. Bastard must have been every bit of 300 lbs when he was a human. All that was left of him at this point was his head, the right side of his neck and torso and his right arm. I kicked as hard as I could with my other leg and nailed it in the ear but that only resulted in me being injured further. The force of the kick caused his vice grip like bite tear at my flesh more. I instinctively grabbed the claw hammer and hit it on the top of its head repeatedly until its skull had caved in and I could fully see its brain. I didn’t stop. I kept swinging all the way until the hammer was entering the top of his head and exiting through the roof of his mouth.

I had to pry its jaws off my leg by using the claw side of the hammer. I placed it inside the head wound I had created and pried it off but it took all of my strength. I can’t believe I got bit. How stupid of me. I’m covered in brain matter and flesh and now it smells even worse in here. I went out into the store and didn’t find any sort of rubbing alcohol or any medical supplies at all. Not even bandaids. I did the only thing I could and washed it off with water and then taped some paper towels over the wound. Luckily, there was a small roll of electrical tape and a full roll of paper towels in the corner of the cooler. I’m back in the cooler now and it’s too quiet. Something isn’t right.

Hopefully this bite doesn’t get infected. I know bites don’t turn you but they can give you horrible infections that you can die from. I found a half pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the floor. I gave up smoking three years ago but screw it. Maybe the nicotine will make me more alert. Until next time…

Trevor out.

[Torval]

Entry Three

I knew that something wasn’t right. I’m not a self proclaimed psychic but I do believe that humans are capable of much more than is broadly accepted. In any case, my intuition about something being amiss was correct.

I was tired and still extremely week after my month long stay in the communications shed. I decided to hold up in the cooler of the gas station for a little while since I had access to some limited food and water. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I would stay for as long as the food, water and safety were in my favor. Unfortunately, that wasn’t very long.

The first night in the gas station’s cooler passed without event. Even though I was much more vulnerable in the cooler I slept more soundly than I had in at least two weeks. Perhaps it was the fact that I actually had a full stomach. I’m not really sure. Anyways, I woke up the next morning and everything was dead silent. It was bliss. I don’t think I have experienced that level on silence in months. I couldn’t hear the moan of zombies. I couldn’t hear any insects buzzing about. I didn’t hear my stomach growling. It was…beautiful. Beautiful enough that it brought a tear to my eyes. I sat up after a few minutes and pulled the makeshift bandage comprised of scotch tape and paper towels off of my leg and my heart sank at the sight of the wound. The skin around the wound was swollen and bright red. I was clearly in the first stages of an infection. Even more gross was the black looking dried blood that had formed in the wound itself. I knew I had to do something but I had already checked the store to see if there were medical supplies and there were none.

I reapplied my makeshift bandage and quietly snuck out into the main part of the store again. Upon exiting the cooler I quickly scanned the windows in front of the store and I couldn’t see a single zombie. I thought that maybe my luck was finally turning around so I leisurely walked around in the store looking for anything that may help. I found a roll of duct tape and a few small packages of salt like you would get from a fast food drive thru. I hurried back to my cooler and mixed all of the salt packs and some water in one of my empty water bottles. Once I felt that it had been mixed enough, I unwrapped my wound and poured the salt water all over the wound. Man that hurt. It had been so long that I forgot how bad salt in a wound hurts. Honestly, I didn’t know if it would help or hurt but I figured it couldn’t be worse than nothing. I then took new paper towels and laid them over the wound once it had dried and wrapped duct tape around my leg, laying it over the paper towels to keep them held against the wound. It’s not the best setup and I’m sure I’m going to hate myself when my flesh starts to heal into the paper towel but again, it’s the best I can do. I spent most of the rest of the day just napping in the cooler, eating and drinking whenever I woke up to try and get some nutrition and health back into my body.

I slept good that night, in fact I slept too good. When I woke up I was bound and gagged and riding in the back of what I guessed was a pickup truck. They had me laying face down and I had a killer headache. I ended up passing back out after a few minutes. The pain was just too much for me to handle. I’ll write more later. We have to get moving.

Trevor out.

[Torval]

I don't actually have a geographic location picked out for this character. I am neither running nor playing in a Dead Reign game right now. This is more so just for fun and as an exercise to get my imagination going as I gear up for a DR campaign that I plan on running later this year. I am just going off of the top of my head on the types of buildings and populations that I want the character to be around.

That's a lame answer, I'm sure, but its the truth.