- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- 9 A.M to 12 P.M - 6 P.M to 1 A.M
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Horror, Romance,
Location: North Cadabury, U.S 302nd Infantry ( Outpost Lima)
Player: Calamity
Character: Aiden Kingsley
"In the blink of an eye, it all ended. Within the moment it too to take that last breath, we failed ourselves as a species. What we saw in ourselves, I may never know. Perhaps this was always the outcome to be. Perhaps we were destined to fail. To fall, alone and in the dark with only our greed and arrogance to comfort us. I know that, as I write these words and future generations read them--I can only say how truly sorry I am. I may have not made the decision that brought you to the this precipice, I may not have authorized lighting the skies on fire. But I as a human being, bear that sin, as do you and for that I am sorry.
I know you are but one, meandering and struggling to find your way in this now despoiled world. But you are a cell, a living testament of something much greater than just yourself. This is my testimony; I have nothing left. My wife, my child perished in the initial attacks. By some cruelty I am left, staggeringly, alone. Know that I don't write this to solve the world's current state; the air is as toxic now as it will be for generations to come. It was dark in the day as it is darker still at night. The sun lies just beyond unbreachable cloud; shining so bright, what we took for granted now is unattainable. For every ray, falls a radioactive snowflake in the form of ash.
The countless thousands of millions, snuffed out in an instant; time stopped for them. Their passing, etched into the very surface of the concrete upon with they strolled every day. Shadows of children holding their parent's hands--burned into stone. It make me cry whenever I come across some lost soul carved into the side of a building--because then I wonder was it as fast as that for them? For my beautiful wife and my darling little girl? Or did a much more sinister route take place instead?
I can't help it I'm a weak man; I grovel on my knees and I beg with tears in my eyes. Eyes that burned, lungs that agonize and a heart that aches. For I shall never know and that's what hurt's the most..."
Aiden looked over the pages through the ash covered twin visors. A faint blue light from his LED flashlight pouring over the pages of words scribbled down. Most were legible, however, the last half page or so the author must've died in the attempt to make sense of his own thoughts. They weren't as coherent as the rest was. Despite the book's value being worthless, he tucked it away in his gear vest. He pointed the light down at the skeletal remains of what was presumably the author in question.
He crouched down slow in in front of the corpse. He had been long dead. The bones nearly picked clean by rats and other creatures. No telling what he looked like originally. Captivated, Aiden's eyes scanned over the slack-jawed skull.
"Whatever happened to them old man, you're with them now. Be thankful." He then stood up and lifted his AK-12 and attached the light to the fixture along the underside of the barrel.
Leaning around the dark corner, arms up, rifle poised to fire--Aiden stepped carefully forwards through the refuse of what used to be an outpost during the Invasion of 2025. History got a little blurry as to just who was invading, but supposedly there was a decent stock pile left behind. It was what the duffle bag slung over his right shoulder for. These days, these parts were known for their "Infestations". That was former human beings, twisted and mutated into mindless ghouls that hungered for flesh.
They preferred it to be fresh; Aiden knew too well how ravenous they were over it. Even a something as cute and cuddly as a lab mouse was like fine dining to them. Their gnarled, chipped teeth and slobbery mouths could shred meat and--with enough bites-- shear bone ragged. But these weren't their main threat. The main threat was the sheer volume of numbers. Trying to fight of twenty or thirty of these aberrations was fair game given the right equipment. Only thing was, there was always more. There were only so many bullets in a clip and it was impossible to get head-shots each and every-time.
So if you did spot one, it was best you take it down quick, and more fittingly--quietly.
Player: Calamity
Character: Aiden Kingsley
"In the blink of an eye, it all ended. Within the moment it too to take that last breath, we failed ourselves as a species. What we saw in ourselves, I may never know. Perhaps this was always the outcome to be. Perhaps we were destined to fail. To fall, alone and in the dark with only our greed and arrogance to comfort us. I know that, as I write these words and future generations read them--I can only say how truly sorry I am. I may have not made the decision that brought you to the this precipice, I may not have authorized lighting the skies on fire. But I as a human being, bear that sin, as do you and for that I am sorry.
I know you are but one, meandering and struggling to find your way in this now despoiled world. But you are a cell, a living testament of something much greater than just yourself. This is my testimony; I have nothing left. My wife, my child perished in the initial attacks. By some cruelty I am left, staggeringly, alone. Know that I don't write this to solve the world's current state; the air is as toxic now as it will be for generations to come. It was dark in the day as it is darker still at night. The sun lies just beyond unbreachable cloud; shining so bright, what we took for granted now is unattainable. For every ray, falls a radioactive snowflake in the form of ash.
The countless thousands of millions, snuffed out in an instant; time stopped for them. Their passing, etched into the very surface of the concrete upon with they strolled every day. Shadows of children holding their parent's hands--burned into stone. It make me cry whenever I come across some lost soul carved into the side of a building--because then I wonder was it as fast as that for them? For my beautiful wife and my darling little girl? Or did a much more sinister route take place instead?
I can't help it I'm a weak man; I grovel on my knees and I beg with tears in my eyes. Eyes that burned, lungs that agonize and a heart that aches. For I shall never know and that's what hurt's the most..."
Aiden looked over the pages through the ash covered twin visors. A faint blue light from his LED flashlight pouring over the pages of words scribbled down. Most were legible, however, the last half page or so the author must've died in the attempt to make sense of his own thoughts. They weren't as coherent as the rest was. Despite the book's value being worthless, he tucked it away in his gear vest. He pointed the light down at the skeletal remains of what was presumably the author in question.
He crouched down slow in in front of the corpse. He had been long dead. The bones nearly picked clean by rats and other creatures. No telling what he looked like originally. Captivated, Aiden's eyes scanned over the slack-jawed skull.
"Whatever happened to them old man, you're with them now. Be thankful." He then stood up and lifted his AK-12 and attached the light to the fixture along the underside of the barrel.
Leaning around the dark corner, arms up, rifle poised to fire--Aiden stepped carefully forwards through the refuse of what used to be an outpost during the Invasion of 2025. History got a little blurry as to just who was invading, but supposedly there was a decent stock pile left behind. It was what the duffle bag slung over his right shoulder for. These days, these parts were known for their "Infestations". That was former human beings, twisted and mutated into mindless ghouls that hungered for flesh.
They preferred it to be fresh; Aiden knew too well how ravenous they were over it. Even a something as cute and cuddly as a lab mouse was like fine dining to them. Their gnarled, chipped teeth and slobbery mouths could shred meat and--with enough bites-- shear bone ragged. But these weren't their main threat. The main threat was the sheer volume of numbers. Trying to fight of twenty or thirty of these aberrations was fair game given the right equipment. Only thing was, there was always more. There were only so many bullets in a clip and it was impossible to get head-shots each and every-time.
So if you did spot one, it was best you take it down quick, and more fittingly--quietly.