Genesis of the Revelation

[Afterburn]

So Eve and I had an idea earlier this morning so we could flex our literary muscles. Seeing how both of us are fans of zombie stuff and literature, we decided to go ahead and make fictional journals during the events of an 'apocalypse' and an outbreak sweeps the eastern United States. We're posting in these forums so that anyone can read them, and we'll be updating them whenever we get the chance!

Enjoy?

[Afterburn]

24072012
06:11
Outskirts of Poplar Bluff, MO
"Afterburn"

It's daybreak on the third week of this situation I've been put in, the sun's rising over the eastern horizon and I can't sleep. Trowa decided to take his shift early to drive while he should be sleeping but truth be told, so should I but I can't. I don't know if it's insanity that's starting to grab me from all this madness or what but the constant fuzz from the radio silence drives me insane. After all these weeks of searching there has to be somebody else out there aside from Trowa, we can't possibly be the only two survivors of this. Every day our hopes of finding somebody -- anybody -- who haven't been 'infected' (or at least that's what we call it) are shattered by having to kill them in the end. Right now we're headed west in search of survivors and who knows, maybe the truth behind all of this as well.

It all started three weeks ago, this outbreak that put us in this precarious position... or at least that's what I recall. I originate from the eastern reaches of Kentucky, the damn hills and toxic air-filled valleys would've done me in if it wasn't for this. The news had said covered a story on a sickness that was beginning to sweep the northeastern part of the nation and a few days after is when television, the Internet, and all phone lines had gone down. We had absolutely no contact with the outside world or the nearby one for that matter. I lived by myself in an apartment, a junior in college, at the time and chaos was sewn in the seams of the city that I lived in. Unexplainable sicknesses, rioting, and mass murder had forced me to stay inside my haven, frightened for my very life that this would soon end -- where was the military?

I don't know how long it was until I decided to leave my apartment to venture back home to visit my step-parents to see if they were all right which was about a 30 mile trip. The busy city streets were empty and barren as fires from overturned cars and buildings started to decay the city. If I had known better, the Apocalypse had decided to come early. While heading outside of my city I found a battered, beaten woman laying in the middle of the highway and to my surprise, she was still moving, or well.. crawling. I pulled my car over to the side of the rode to investigate but what I was greeted with was a strange hissing from the woman, who was in her early twenties, who apparently could not walk with both of her ankles broken. I tried my best to coax her out of her trance but had no luck, she was driven mad by something so I left her there, laying in the middle of the road to die and drove back to the place where I called home.

An hour passed in my car and all I saw was the twisted landscape that seemed to be dying rapidly as I kept driving, the clouds overhead were overcast and everything had a grey tint to it and absolutely no life was in sight. I eventually arrived to my home in the quiet Kentucky town that I once lived in and it seemed that my step-parents were home but nobody answered the door despite it being half-open. Swallowing my pride, I opened the door and walked inside and it seemed as if a cyclone had hit the place -- it was an absolute mess that I never saw this house in. What was more interesting and shocking was a trail of blood that streaked across the floor into our utility room as if a body was dragged in that direction and my deepest fears began to sink in, the darkness had started to cloud my visions and my thoughts. The room that I used to live in had been turned into a guest room with my great-grandfather's gun cabinet recently put in it. I retrieved a handgun from the cabinet and went to investigate what was at the end of the aforementioned blood trail. What I horrified me to no extend, words could not explain how it changed my life..

My step-mother's corpse was face-down on the utility room's floor as blood was painted across the floor, wall, and even the ceiling and everything else I could see at the time. Then what it seemed that this situation could get no worse for me, there seemed to be my step-father crouching over her bloodied body and held her arm to his face. The sounds of flesh splintering from the bone scratched in my ears as my step-father's head reared back to take another bite of her corpse, ripping the skin from her arm for his own twisted meal. I pointed the gun to him, trembling in pure horror, and yelled out his name in a shaky tone, him stopping his movements and turned around to me and that's when I saw that he was equally was bloody as she was. He let out a deafening, gargling roar as he dropped my step-mother's arm and charged directly to me from across the room and that's when I pulled the trigger and shot him in the leg and to my dismay he quickly recovered from it. Again he charged at me and I took a few steps back and unloaded the entire clip into him and eventually he fell down never to move again. Recollecting myself, I went to examine the body and saw that I shot him three times in the chest, twice in each shoulder, twice in his legs, and once in his head. What worried me, not that they were both dead (I think), but from my step-father's wounds, no blood pooled. Was he.. dead already?

I didn't want answers, fear had consumed me too much to seek them out so I fled. I don't know where I fled to but I went west. I was fortunate enough to ditch my 2001 Chevy Impala for a custom-armored semi with trailer and lucky for me, I know how to drive one. I gathered what supplies I could in the Lexington and Frankfort areas and stockpiled them in the trailer and kept heading west up until I finally met one survivor on the outskirts of La Grange in his 2006 Mustang. He called himself Trowa Barton, a former Army sniper and he explained to me similar happenings in Indiana. After confirming that neither of us were 'infected,' we decided to team up and look and search for any survivors. I'd go on, but I'm actually about to fall asleep.. for once.

Until next time.

[Arkh]

All I can think is that I am relieved you two have an outlet. Would hate to have to blanket your walls with pillows and soft cladding.

[Asteroth]

..a few days after is when television, the Internet, and all phone lines had gone down.

Wonder if he missed his raid. =\

Finish this, though ASAP. Interesting story so far.