Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-31073921-20170120144019

THIS IS NOT FINISHED, but please tell me how good It is so far



LOG 1

If you asked me what my earliest memory is, I would say snow. I can recall it exactly. The air was crisp and fresh, and the weather was cold, with a slight breeze. I was 5, and I awoke early like usual. When I got out of bed I looked outside and gasped. There was snow. I had never seen snow before, because I used to live in California. But this was my first week in Vermont. And I finally saw snow. I woke my mom and dad up, and when they saw the look on my face and the weather outside they smiled and got me dressed. I played all day, and I was as happy as I could be. I took a snowball in and put it by my desk. I went to bed early, ready for another day of snow fun. But when I awoke the next day the snowball had melted, like all the other snow out there. I realised that Some things don’t last forever, and my small mind then had an idea of the bigger picture. But that all was then.



There’s a reason for writing this log, to keep my sanity mostly, but also just to write down my daily life to see how much it’s changed. I remember when this all started, in 2017. I was 7 then, and this was my dream, infinite snow. If only we all knew it was a nightmare. When I was 7, I only had an older sister Alice, (Who was 13) so I was the most and pretty much only one excited. There is some sciencey explanation for what happened, but I have no idea what it is so I’ll just tell you the jist of it. The temperature Everywhere dropped. Big time. This alone took about 8% of the population. But that was only in cold states like canada, so everywhere else was a winter wonderland. That day it was June, and it snowed. I was really happy and my sister was mildly amused I guess. I played and played and you can guess it, played. “Snowmaggedon” wasn’t that bad for me. At first. Then the snow was like blizzards every night. After a year, this wasn’t good. I didn’t like the snow at all, no one did. Then one cold night, like all others, my dad went out to get bark and wood for the fire. He never returned. Now don’t get sympathetic, even though I’m sure you aren’t because If you’re alive then you lost family too, because I was more upset about not having the fire. My dad was total jerk, and even with my 8 year old dependent ways I still didn’t care what happened to him. My sister did though. My sister was really my dad’s main focus, and his love, while I was shoved to the side. When he died my sister was hit hard and didn’t recover. After 4 years, the day after highschool she moved to a college in california just to get away from us and snow. But now I had a new annoyance. A little brother named Tammy. The night my dad disappeared the doctor said that my mom was pregnant, of course. And sure enough, one year later, my baby brother was born. By the time my sister was gone I was 12 and my brother was 3, and my mom was almost relieved to not have another sibling around.



Tammy loved snow. Not liked, loved. I got over it after a year, but he didn’t. He just always loved it. In 2026 Everything changed though. I was 16 then, and my brother was 7. He got up early like every other day and got ready to go out. I groggily went down the steps, to see him all ready. I didn’t want to go out so I just let him go alone. “Go…” I mumbled still half asleep. He giggled and ran out. After a minute I heard petrifying shrieks coming from outside. I looked out to see a horror. Where Tammy had touched the snow was covered in blood. On his hands dark red streaks of red sprayed down. My mom came down and rushed to Tammy. He was crying, half blood and half tears. She went to her room and I could only guess what happened. When I went up an hour later Tammy and my mom were dead. She had been covered in snow and slowly melted. The mattress was soaked in blood and their last pose was my mom cuddling Tammy. I closed the door and cried. I looked at the snow. It looked normal, but I knew it wasn’t. I kicked at it and screamed at it for killing everyone I loved, and even people I didn’t. I went inside and Curled up in a ball. Later that day the phone rang. I let it go by. It rang again. I slumped over to the phone and answered it. It was about my sister. All I heard was “Alice…” and I slammed the phone against the wall. I cried even more.



I wasn’t a quitter though, and I made it through the wind and snow. And here I am. It’s 2027 I think, and civilization just lost about 40% more of its population. I roamed the forest looking for animals and food. There was nothing there. Everything was dead. No sounds, just nothing. All I saw was a dead squirrel under the trees, being dissolved by the snow. I looked at it. The poor soul wasn’t the only thing to die.

<span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:700;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">LOG 2

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">I was doing my daily walk around the forest when under the groves I saw a few men. When I came to them they immediately put me at gunpoint. “Hey, hey, I’m friendly…”. That probably sounded really stupid so they kept me at gunpoint. Eventually they put their guns down, and they took me to a small camp. The people who I had found were Trevor, Mike, Jahhad, and Jack. there were more people apparently, and I finally realised what had happened. Government was dead. It wasn’t that they lost to the snow, but the people broke away. The second the snow broke out the people wanted a post-apocalyptic world. Anyway, the men showed me how to filter the acid out of water, and gave me an anti-snow suit. We are going to a buried market that had “disappeared” a few months ago when the killer snow started to fall.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">Later we went to the supermarket, and something terrible happened. We were digging out the snow and Trevor fell in. The snow above collapsed. We had to keep moving, and while no one else heard it, I heard the faint scream of Trevor slowly dying. We got inside and raided it. There was a man by one window, He had a broom in its hand. It looked as if he was banging at the glass. The body was slumped over, next to the window. He looked alive, but then we saw it. He broke the glass and the snow was all over him. Blood was dripping down from his wrists, and luckily the rest of him was covered. He must've desperately tried to escape, seen there was no way out and let the snow suffocate him, and when the new toxin came it ate at his remains. Mike searched him while we stocked up. When we left I looked at the man again. I saw he had a knife in his hand this time, and had carved something into his arm. 丂几ㄖ山ㄥ卂几ᗪ.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">We feasted all night on canned beans and dried fruit. We sat in silence and ate. I don’t know who screamed it but it set it us all running. “SNOW”. We ran to the tents deserting whatever we had. Jahhad didn’t make it. He was screaming and bleeding right in front of me. He rushed to my tent and kept screaming inaudible words.I made one thing out though. “LET ME IN”. His hands kept scratching at the tent, up and down, His dark figure shrinking. I just sat there and huddled back in the tent as Jahhad screamed and slowly died.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">Mike took out Jahhad’s body in the morning. We sat there eating our beans when the rest of the tribe came up. This was the first time I saw them. They were very military like, and trampled by us like we were nothing. They each took 2 cans and left. We were left with only morsels. I thought this was good enough but Jack didn’t. He asked for more. He was held at gunpoint and shouted at for “Rejecting the king's orders”. They took him and threw him off a high cliff into a pile of snow. He writhed and screamed as the snow covered him. And I realised I’m with a ton of psychos. I soon found from snooping around and overhearing conversations that around here we are the workers and usually die, while the “higher classes” should be kept alive. Can I trust Mike enough to tell him this, or is he loyal to this tribe thing? I’m not sure but I don’t really care. I have to get out of here before I’m the next to go.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:700;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">LOG 3

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">I found some other people in the tribe that also agree with me, and are going to rebel. They’ve had people try to escape, but they always just get shot down. I decided to join their cause, and try to escape. Their leader is a guy named Tom, he’s organising the whole thing. I don’t know what they’re going to do, but I want to be a part of it. Also I can’t write anymore in this, he thinks that if “he” finds it, that their plan will be exposed.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:700;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">LOG 4

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">I escaped that psychopathic camp and I’ll tell you how. Tom sadly was caught with others while planting explosives, and they were sentenced to death. The whole tribe had to watch as they put bags on their heads and shot them, I didn’t find Tom though, I expect that he got tortured and questioned instead. After the execution the rebels, confused with no leader, attacked with full force on the tribe. In the commotion I put on my anti-snow suit and I filled my backpack with food, water, a sifter, and this notebook and ran. The rebels were fighting all night, but seemed to be killed off. I hope that they think I’m dead, but I can’t be too sure. I sprinted to the supermarket to get more stuff. I grabbed the dead man’s knife and some more supplies like climbing gear. The forests are definitely off limits for me now so I need a backup plan. And I have it.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">I’m going to hike to california. Down there there will be less snow and I can find Alice. I know that someone called about her, but they never said she was dead, and I’m not going back to the house for any reason. I have all the gear and the maps so as long as I’m cautious I think I’ll be fine.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">This could be a new log, but It was so soon to when I wrote the last one, it really shouldn’t. Well, I found Mike on the way hiking there. Actually, he found me. He was in a big RV with other rebels, and forced me to surrender until I proved I was a rebel too. He picked me up in the car and got me SMG. I’ve never fired a gun before though, none the less killed someone, so I’m not sure I could use it if I have too. But I didn’t tell him that. They also want to go to california too. This seemed perfect but apparently the tribe did a body count, and are searching for the remaining with orders to kill on sight. I’m glad I found him or I’d be a sitting duck. We drove into a cave and settled there. I don’t want to learn my team’s name seeing how fast people die in this land.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">We found Tom. He was sitting in the snow with no visible injuries. I immediately saw it was a trap but some dumbo rushed over and got us exposed. He got shot and two more of our men died. Mike screamed some inaudible words and slammed on the pedal. He drove about 200 yards then we got hit with a homing missile. I tried to run but had laid down in the path defeated instead. The pain was so tremendous I probably blacked out. When I came to I wasn’t dead or anything. I was left alone. The snow was falling but I had my suit on so it was fine. I crawled around but as far as I could see everyone was dead but Mike. I shook Mike until he came to, then asked him if he wanted to camp out but he refused, saying how he needed to find “Him”. He grabbed a SMG and half ran, half limped up a hill into the distance. When I found shelter, I saw how much snow had actually fallen. About 3 feet of snow since I passed out. That’s a lot, even by snowland standards. Later I was searching around and I found a library. I searched the library just because. I found that no one was there (Not very unnatural), but I also found some statistics in a pile on the librarian's desk. There are now about 19.2 billion people dead. That's 82% more of the population. I’m one of the “lucky” 3% that survived…

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">Well, Here I come california. I haven’t seen Mike since he ran off, but I don’t think I want to. I need to find Alice. I never really liked Alice but we were siblings, I cared about her. If she’s dead I don’t know what to do. Maybe I would find Mike. I’m not sure. I’ll write again when I get there.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:700;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">LOG 5

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">I’m here. The streets are mildly populated in some areas, but most are deserted. Except for the bodies. California was definitely hit hard. It seemed that California was hit with the Acid snow first. I asked everybody around but none of them know Alice. I’m going to the university. The car broke down, so I rented a car, but when I tried to use US money they just laughed. I had to give them some of my food. That’s the United States now I guess. I went to the university and asked everyone about Alice. No one knew but another girl. She said when the snow first hit, she was with Alice, they ran inside because for some reason she hated the snow. When they first saw the wreathing and deaths they hid in her dorm and she left to find her other friends. When she came back the whole area was flooded with snow. Alice was never heard from since. Great. The girl's name was Ashley (Or was it Alexa? I don’t know). I guess I have to go back to Vermont. Ugh.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">Ashley and I were talking out in the campus about if Alice still could be alive when it started to snow. We ran to the campus again, but Ashley didn’t make it. But this time it was different. She only had her leg grazed, which shouldn’t be to bad. But it was. He leg started to swell, and it slowly melted. If we amputated it in time, she may have lived. But, we let her rest, and when we saw her again the bed was soaked with blood and her whole body had been eaten through. The snow changed again. The damn snow.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">I left the campus in a hurry. Apparently they have a working airplane that can get me back to Vermont. Of course the same people that rented the car to me run the thing. There goes the rest of my food. I came on with some other people and we took off. Then once again we got screwed. The snow came down in sheets lowering the plane. It wasn’t a problem until an hour later one of the crappy planes windows burst open. The guy next to it got shattered with glass and melted by the snow. I rushed for the “Protection sheet” and was one of the only that got to it. The snow flew through the windows in sheets. One of the passengers didn’t make it in time, but I was used to the blood, gore, and screaming like everyone. I felt an immense drop and got confused. The pilot.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">He must’ve gotten hit by the snow. I rushed to my anti-snow suit and got it on quickly. I then ran to the pilot's cockpit to get a parachute, but there was only 1 parachute left. Someone else must’ve gotten the idea too, because he was there when I entered. He punched me in the face and ran to the parachute. I opened his mask, and slammed his face into the snow. He screamed. That was the first time I killed someone. It felt normal, maybe because I was used to the death. Well I better get used to it I guess. I grabbed the parachute and jumped out. I saw the plane go down and explode. Why does everything bad happen to me? But I wasn’t done. I ran over to the plane crash after hitting the ground. The place was, well a wreck. It was in a grove, and all the trees around were just firey planks. The snow was melted, but replaced with fire. It seemed there was one survivor. She was middle aged, and her eyes just hinted to that she had a family. That she lost. She took out a pistol. I ran back. She threw it to me with her shaky hands. She pointed to her head. I shot her. It was a clean shot right to the head. It didn’t feel like murder though. It felt like kindness. I lowered the pistol and walked away. I had no idea where I was, well not HAD. I have! I’ve been walking around a while and it seems that it’s just forest here. I’ll write again when I’ve found something.

 

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:700;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">LOG 5

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">It's been two days and finally I’ve found something. It's a big SUV, covered in blood. That freaked the hell out of me at first, but now I see it as an opportunity. I jumped in and the leather was soft and smooth. Nearby I saw a body, with a key in it’s hand. And a gun. A big gun. I took both, so now I guess I’ll do an Inventory. Here’s what I have :

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">1 Snow-Proof backpack, worn out

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">1 key ring with 2 keys on it.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">1 Snowsuit

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">1 Pistol

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">4 Rounds for the pistol

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">1 Gun, I don’t know what type

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">32 rounds for the gun, found scattered around

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">2 cans of food

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">3 water bottles

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">This journal and a pen.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">A knife and some climbing gear

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">This is pretty good, besides the fact I have NO FUCKING FOOD.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Hopefully I find something. I don’t want to die.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I’ll go look around the car. I’ll write back soon.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Oh yeah. The car has a trunk. The second key opens it, and well. I think I’m set. They have almost 32 cans of food, and 24 gallon water cans. There’s a sniper rifle in the back. It looks generally new, with 𐌂𐍂𐌆𐌓Ᵽ𐌋Σ𐍂 spray painted on it. This just proves people are getting desperate, it looks like they’re hunting PEOPLE for their food. On closer inspection the people around the truck have bullet wounds in them. I’m suddenly feeling anxious that someone else is here, and they’re hunting me. The eerie silence continues on as I get in the truck. I don’t know where to go. Maybe Vermont. Maybe not. I don’t know. I’m just gonna drive.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.656;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">It’s been a while, and I can officially say I’m back in Vermont. And I found Mike. It’s really great to see a familiar face. After we went to the cave we talked, and Mike said how he didn’t kill “him” and I said how I couldn’t find my sister. I didn’t say how she was dead though. It seemed like he knew it already. I asked him who “he” was. There was silence. Eventually a soldier said “The leader of the tribe.”. There was another long pause. I said “What are your names?” That took everyone by surprise, even me. I guess it’s better to know someone, even if they’re going to die. The one that had answered me was the first to talk. “Texas.” I knew it wasn’t his real name, but It was something. “I’m a tech,” Texas added. “Brute.” Another said. “Phil.” Another said. Everyone looked at him. I guess that was his real name. “Bind” another says. “Blue.” The last guy said. They looked at me expectantly. I realised I should say my name. I also realised I never put my name in this. I don’t know if it’s for the better, but I didn’t tell them my real name; And I won’t tell you. I said “Tammy”. I said it to honor him I guess. Tammy maybe was annoying, but we were family. And I loved him. I miss Tammy.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:700;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">LOG 6

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">What     was      that. I was on my daily search and I saw something move in the snow. There’s nothing now. WAIT! There’s some rippling underneath the snow again. I don’t know what to do, I’m just gonna look at it some more, wait for it to do something besides wander. Wait, there’s not something underneath the snow. <span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:700;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">It is the snow. <span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;"> Holy crap holy crap holy crap. I’m gonna shoot it. It’s not stopping it, It doesn’t care that I’m blowing holes into the snow. IT SAW ME! RUN.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Ok, I made it. It chased me 12 yards until I got to the cave. The snow keeps rippling outside, and everyone’s freaked out as fuck. Justifiably of course. The snow suddenly digs back at full speed. I realise then Bind wasn’t with us. I scream Bind’s name, like everyone else. He hears us, and looks up expecting snow to pour down. I saw him standing there, then the snow crushing over his feet. He screams and looks under him in shock. The snow parts and he falls into a hole. He thinks he can make it out, and puts one hand up. The snow collapses around him and shreds his bones to flakes. Blood sprays in the air, and the arm he stuck out becomes disconnected, and splats to the awaiting snow below that dissolves it. Grotesque. We all huddle back. I don’t think any of us are going out tomorrow. That makes six, including me. Blue says, “Devon…” and sinks back. I guess that was Bind’s real name.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">When I woke up Texas handed me a gun. “Flamethrower.” He says. Smart I guess. I don’t know if it works but I’m trying it out today with Blue and Mike. We all ate most of my cans by now, and need some food. I don’t feel safe doing this, but Texas is pretty sure about it. I fired it at the regular snow, and it worked decently. We found the creature and flamed it. The thing just melted and was gone.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="color:rgb(255,255,255);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;text-indent:36pt;">The base is cold and boring, and I can’t take this solitude for much longer. Mike announced we move tomorrow, and we go for “Him”. I declared that “Him” wouldn’t do. We had to name him something in the meantime. I said “Leader” Blue said “Rat” (I guess he’s feeling better), and Phil said “Mr. Snow” We all agreed that was good, Brute and Texas didn’t even vote. Mr. Snow. ha. Funny I guess. I showed them 𐌂𐍂𐌆𐌓Ᵽ𐌋Σ𐍂. Texas sketched it. He’s damn good. Here’s a picture of the finished painted project:

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;"> That’s really good, especially with the materials he had. Texas is probably the most efficient here, and the one that would of earned “Most likely to succeed if Snowland didn’t destroy the terrain”. He’s an artist, a mechanic, an engineer and a good runner. His options really would've expanded, and he would had a great career if Snowland never happened. I wonder what would've happened to my family if the Snow wouldn’t of fallen. Dad would be alive. Mom, Sis, Tammy. We would all be a mediocrely happy family, but that seems better than this. I have to stop thinking about them. I miss them. I sometimes feel like I should be a cold-hearted badass, and sometimes feel like that’s what I am. I’m not a savage or anything though. Here’s where I would say my bad path to snowland, but I’m really not in the mood. I’m gonna go talk to Texas about, I don’t know tech stuff. I really like these guys, but I feel like they’re just going to die too. Mike has something planned, and if I know Mike, It’s dangerous.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:700;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">LOG 7

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I was right, Mike wants to dive bomb right into the tribe and gun for the important guy. I just want to put this tribe shit behind me, but Mike wants to “save” the people. I’m afraid he’s sending us all to our deaths. I can’t think of any better ideas besides “Don’t go” or “Forget the tribe” and Mike won’t accept that. I had to say it, missle the top tribe and Texas will snipe survivors. Mike added in that him and Brute will charge, and I’m not up to stopping them. We attack tonight, I hope I live to write the tale.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I was going to write after the attack, but lots has happened. Texas made us some upgraded weapons, and I GAvE him the CRiPplEr. Sorry, I hit a BuMP. I’m in the SUv right now. Texas got very injured, a snowflake hit his calf. It melted right through his leg. I told them about Ashley and her leg. We had to amputate Texas’ Leg. I don’t know if I can LOsE anyone else. He’s ok, but he has to stay in tHe suv for now. I’ll write after the attack.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">It didn’t go very well. I fired the Rocket at the tower, obliterating the whole thing. Not many people survived, but alarms immediately rang. Mike didn’t even get through the entrance when he was shot at. His arm was grazed, and Brute was shot countless times in the chest as he ran in. We left Brute behind, For there is no doubt I have that he is dead. Texas got one shot off and hit a important-looking guy in the heart. Damn, He’s a real good shot. We got Mike, and as we drove off, I saw the man’s blood spur on the wall, and he crumpled face first into the snow. He is definitely dead. I don’t think we took out enough people to avenge Brute, and no one else does either. We checked Mike’s wound for snow, but he was clear. We have a problem now though, there is a hole in his suit. If he wears that, he will no doubt have to get his leg amputated after one trek out, or die.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Thats it so far! Tell me how good it is! :) <ac_metadata title="Please review My new Story"> </ac_metadata>