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[Ghazkull]

So close...

so close...

dammit

you were so close to it and finally they've got you. You killed every single one of them but you were not careful enough...

With your arm bleeding you lean against the wooden gate of your secure haven. You are completely exhausted. Nearly half an hour you trie to escape them on the way back home.

Not careful enough...

The thought is pulsing through your head again and again, creating horrible headache and sweeping any coherent thought away. You don't even try and be happy about the medicine and the full car battery you salvaged out of that destroyed truck.

Dammit. Not careful enough. not...

You cry out in anguish as a bolt of pain is ripping through your mind. You fall down to your knees and breath heavily. Sweat is running down your brow and you feel how your hair is sticking into your face.

Completely exhausted you heave yourself back up and begin to fiddle on the number lock which is holding the heavy iron bar in place.

Concentrate...1-8-3...1-8-3...like your birthday...1-8-3

your hands are shivering horribly and make it een harder for you to enter the damned code.

Finally you hear the satisfiying click and stumble inwards leaving the gate open. Inside the walls you can hear the groaning of a cow in the paddock you had made yourself. Everything here you have made from scratch. You felled a whole clearing into the forest to build the wooden wall, the shack for the animals and the paddock for you two cows.But the whole thing was build around the really interesting thing here. The steel door embedded into the mountainside right in front of you. An old abandoned bunker. Your home, your shelter and propably now your grave...

Your eyes lose focus but you manage to stumble towards the door before falling down and blacking out.

Light burns through your closed eyes...

so...bright...wait...bright?

in an instant you shoot up into a sitting position. How long have you slept? it's early in the morning as you see from the sun shining in your face. BUt you arrived at nightfall...

The Gate!

you jump to your feet and run towards the gate which is still open. Clutching you axe you carefully look around. But nobody seems to be there. The grip of the wooden handle feels warm against you skin.

Your trusty axe. It has always been loyal to you. the many marks you carved into it for felled enemies proof it. You initially bought it on some medieval fair out of a drunken whim. You never thought you would take it from the wall of your room to kill...those...things. in the weeks of waiting and hiding you engraved a some quite amazing looking runes into it.

You rip your thoughts from your axe and concentrate back on the task at hand. With seemingly nobody around you close the gate. Although you have done nearly nothing, your already exhausted.

You lean against the closed gate and slowly slide down into a sitting position. The headache is growing again. Suddenly you fee sick and throw up. Not much coming out. no wonder, your main diet was some milk and the few eggs you got from your hens...

You know that you were bitten, and you know what is going to happen.
A loud sigh erupting from your mouths turns into a pressed sob. You fight back the tears. Forcing yourself to stay calm you roll up your sleeves to loock at the wound. Its still bleeding.

Out of a crazed whim you begin to calculate. in your current condition you have approximately three hours till you begin to turn.

So what am i going to do...?


OOC:
Well i hope the intro wasnt to  boring or Lengthy

[Tarran]

Examine our home/bunker for anything of value.

[Imakuni]

Write an account of the events occurring up to when I was bitten, for somebody to hopefully find in the distant future.

(That is, if there is a writing utensil within reach)

[Armok]

Write an account of the events occurring up to when I was bitten, for somebody to hopefully find in the distant future.

(That is, if there is a writing utensil within reach)

This.

[Ghazkull]

You feel horribly weak, you breath is getting shallower and shallower. But somehow you muster the energies to stand up.
Must stay awake. Remember...Remember...i need to write something down
The thought clings clearly in your head and you stumble towards the door of the bunker. With much effort you open the door and stumble inside. You stumble past your sleeping room, the kitchen into the "library", which is actually a storage room you filled with books you found. It is basically a blank room filled with several bookshelves and an old table you found in one of the other rooms. On the wooden table in the room you find a much-used yellowed book: your diary. As always before you write something down you open the book at a random page and begin to read the entry there:

diary entry 2.3.2009 day 50 since my first sighting

reached the ammunitions depottoday, it was completely abandoned apart for some zeds. The Army has taken much of the ammunition and of the valuable stuff. However they left much of their medical supplies and the food, going to scavenge it with Björn and Charlie today...


Sorrow wells up in you as you read the names of your two companions. Björn was killed by an insane hermit, while Sebastian went off to try and find the rumoured secure goverment maintained zone...you never came to know what happened to him...

You shake your head and try not to lose yourself in too sentimental feelings.
diary entry 20.4.2010 1 year 49 days since first sighting

Was bitten today. This is propably my last entry. Well and i am the last, or at least i think so. Everybody died or tried to find the goverment controlled zone. I was always too proud to join one of the other groups...Well after this incident i think i should have shat on my pride and followed them, would have been far more secure. Well no i can write here my famous last words, is that right? something like:
those who shed my blood with me today, does will be my brothers!
But this is not fitting my character. Actually the only quote i currently can remember is:
the cake is a lie!
Which is propably the dumbest thing one can actually write as his lasts words... 
Well lets try it with this:

Dear Tomb Raider, you are the lucky winner of this diary. Its yours now! It has many great uses the most important one being probably that it burns quite well.



satisfied with your morbid entry you lean back in your chair and cross the arms behind your head.

Yep thats fitting. I wouldnt be surprised if the guy who finds it doesnt even read a bit of it. imbecile savages...

Suddenly you feel sick again and your stomach begins grumbling. Seems it is time for the last meal.

_________________________________

gained 1 hour till turning.

currently 3 hours remaining
hungry
bite wound on left arm(bleeding)

[Evergod41]

What kind of xombi survivalist are you?! you should've lopped off the arm after you were in the clear! but NoOo you had to run and hide and hope your lucky... dumbass, anyway

Find some of your food, possibly some booze if you got any left, go grab a chicken if you can spare it (incase you DONT die) and butcher it, you could use the meat.

[Tarran]

Find something to eat. Something NOT related to meat or brains in any way. Like crackers or some bread. BUT NO MEAT.

[Evergod41]

but... meat good...

but still get some booze if there is any

[Criptfeind]

Have a last meal and then leave the safe house. Kill yourself.

[Diablous]

Wash and bandage your wound. We might somehow not turn.

[Criptfeind]

At the very least make sure we go outside, we don't want to kill the cows and hens if we do.

[Imakuni]

Wouldn't it be better to let the cows and hens out, then? I mean, there's a large chance of them being zombified, but if we turn, then they'll just be stuck in the bunker and eventually starve/dehydrate.

[Tarran]

It won't really matter. Chickens won't likely survive more then a month in the wild, not including the zombies in the equation. And cows can't run, and they're also gigantic targets. They're basically guaranteed to die either way.

[Criptfeind]

Do we have a water source in our fort?

[Josephus]

It won't really matter. Chickens won't likely survive more then a month in the wild, not including the zombies in the equation. And cows can't run, and they're also gigantic targets. They're basically guaranteed to die either way.

What, are you kidding? Chickens are Satan. Cull them all now. The last thing you want is zombie chickens.