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The World Will End in Rain4
--Begin Record: Oct. 17 2152. 23:47.
Record Title: Faces.
Record Author: Bernard, Arabella.
: i cant really describe myself at the moment.... im lost, confused, angry horrified, and scared shitless.
one of the men, alex, is someone i sort of know. he was at my parents funeral and he took care of me and my brothers until i was 8. he left oneday. i never knew why. today he told me that he is a cia agent. and thats all he said.
i saw my brother today.
The World Will End in Rain3
The four's traveling was tough. Even though the buildings are only yards away from each other, getting across with their supplies proved difficult. Getting past the first building was the toughest, however. The fear of even touching the water was immense.
"I'm across!" yelled Flex back to the others.
"Yea, Connor, we see that! Just get that rope tied down good and we'll start getting over there," Caleb is a very impatient man.
Flex securely tied his end of the rope to what used to be a satelite reciever. He had earlier figured out and order in which they would travel. He would be the first of course. He had the best chance of making it across without problems. If he did fall, he was the best swimmer and could hopefully fight off any aliens hat might attack him. Next would be Caleb with the food bag. He wasn't the fittest man, but thats what the rope is for. The others would cli
The World Will End in Rain2
--Begin Record: Oct. 17, 2152. 07:13.
Record Title: searching.
Record Author: Bernard, Arabella
: We're leaving in a few hours. We've gotten together some items. Alex has been fishing things out of the water. I don't know how I fell about that. Lots of that stuff belongs to dead people. I guess its ok... he did get a backpack that were going to garry the food in. Flex's... bounty hunter pack will carry the rest of our supplies. I feel so useless.
Mabey we'll find others. I hope so.
-- End Record.
The World Will End in Rain
The four sat upon the roof. They rarely moved. Mostly just shifted positions from time to time, while thinking of their lives before the rain. The girl, an ambitious artist, stared at her hands mostly, probably longing for a pen and a flat surface to express the building emotions. Her pack beside her contains a few items, an E-journal, a photo album and some nik-nak things she collects. The three men often paced, checked supplies that they had gathered and most of the time bickered about this and that. The main topic was whether they should move, try to find other people, more provisions.
"What have we got to lose, our lives?" Flex argued.
"Yea, for one thing," Caleb seemed the most self centered of the group.
"Its not like we have anything left of a life, now is it? We've got no
families, no friends, theres aliens overtaking our planet and we won't last more than a few weeks at best," Flex Connor knew his survival tacti
The World Ended in Rain
Access date: Oct. 15, 2152. 04:51.
Record Title: the day the world ended.
Record Author: Bernard, Arabella.
: I've sat here for at least an hour now, just trying to think of how to start. I guess my title needs a little explaining. Everything has ended. Not in the sense that all life on earth is dead... yet. But in the sense of all those zombie movies you see. I'll try to start from what I consider the beginning.
Two weeks ago, the rain started. This wasn't just any rain. It was rain that would turn you. Turn you into what I guess you could call water zombies. Yeah, I know it is stupid. But there isn't much else to call them except for aliens. Really, they're humans that have been killed -drowned- to become hosts to an alien race. We don't know much more than that. Other than if you drown, well... your insides are carved out to make room for the aliens to form. Basically,
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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