[Game story.] Jounal.

This is a game where you add on to the original story at the first post. Then, the next
person adds on that post.



February 26, Year Unknown.

It was a bleak day; normal. I was in the safe house. My friend dissapeared a day ago, now I'm going to find him. I've been in the safe house for years. Now, I fear, It's time to leave. Years since the attack, I'm not sure if it's wise. All I can remember from that dreaded day, or Year X, is my mom calling "Lance! Don't forget me, I'll be watching you!" I'm the oldest member of the survivors. We all remember the way everytrhing just vanished from sight. There was just a POOF! and it was gone. I fear my friend is out there, I must rescue him. I can't let him go. Lance, out.

when i walk outside, hell greets my eyes.
The world is nothing like i remember it.
Red ash and smoke are everywhere, nearly blocking out the sun.
Everything is destroyed, there isnt a single building not crumbled, or a living being in the area.
As i struggle to breathe what little oxygen there is in this new world, i suddenly realize something,
My friend will not last in long here.
I must find him.
Lance, out.

<deleted>

Zerzavy wrote:Wandering around the wasteland, there where too many dead bodies. No surprise. There was too much fog to me to see. Who knows that i could still be living by now. An old hunchback with a hunters' tag on his ear said, "why have you come too?" Then, he collapsed right in front of me. I looked at the bodies, then I looked at myself. I look like I came out of an icestorm, yet everyone else looks overcrispy toast. My breath was completly unchanged. I reliezed, I was...dead. Lance, out.

this is good, but make a spot in the story directory before posting please.

Erm.. No.
That was bad.
There would be nothing left alive, it's been years, remember.
Please, delete that and come up with something better.

<deleted>

As I get farther, the oxygen lowers. I know I won't last. This wasteland is how they intended it to be. I know I'm not that old, the killer is probably still out there. If I live long enough, and have my friend, I'm taking him out. This, this place, is Hell. I will make it. If I don't, I will have a mom and a dad with me. If I do make it, I'll have friends. Not much to look forward to, but suicide is no option.

Lance, out.

as I keep walking, I try to remember more about the fateful day in year x.
Try as I might, it escapes me for now.
As I keep walking, I catch the movement of a shadow.
My first instinct is that it is a tree flowing in the breeze.
I then realize there is no breeze.
Heck, there's not even any trees.
What could it be? Was it my friend?
Or could something else somehow have survived all of these years in hell?