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Dear Journal,

I really don’t know how to begin. The trenches at Ypres are full of the same things as everywhere else: Dirt, soldiers, guns, and miserableness. I got transferred over here with a group of reserves, from London. A few days into my stay here, one of the men I came with gave me this. A small journal. He says he picked it up near one of the german trenches. However, one of the german officers spotted him. Instead of shooting him, he ran away, yelling things like “You british soldiers will never suspect a thing!” And “Prepare all you want, but there is no escape!” Neither of us have any idea what he was talking about. But today, I will be going over the trenches, with some of the heavy infantry. We are planning an assault on the enemy trenches, which are located not even a mile away. I have asked my friend, Lieutenant Schick, to put this journal into safekeeping for me. And if I don’t return, hopefully some other soldier will stumble upon this book, and continue my writings.


Dear Journal,

I have returned from the enemy trench. Most of my assigned squad were gunned down in battle. Me and Private Logan were the only ones that made it out alive. I got hit in the head with the stock of a rifle, and Logan was shot twice, once in the shoulder, and again in the leg. We spent days recovering. It was only just a few minutes ago that I remembered this journal. Lieutenant Schick has done a fine job of keeping it nice and clean. The enemy trench was chaotic. They ambushed us with cannons and rifles, but we put up a good fight. I lost many brave friends that day, and I am now fully prepared to lose more. This war has been nothing but a force of destruction. What was once a beautiful church and a small village is now a pile of ashes and bricks. I feel ashamed for joining this terrible event in the first place.


Dear Journal,

I have received a promotion! I am now an Artillery Captain. Right now, me, Corporal Jettison, Lieutenant Schick, and Private Jackson are manning one of the new heavy-duty railguns, and firing on the german trenches. Things are going well again… for the most part. Private Logan seems to have developed a sort of new disease. He seems sleepier, and he coughs quite a lot. We’ll have to just hope that it isn’t contagious.


Dear Journal,

Private Logan hasn’t gotten any better. In fact, he’s just gotten worse. He is now vomiting up what look like little pebbles. The higher command isn’t sure how to deal with him. The Germans have been launching new gas grenades into the front line trenches, and our gas masks don’t seem to be blocking anything out. We suspect that this new gas is what has been causing this disease, as it has spread onto individuals that were affected by the gas. Many of my friends, including Lieutenant Schick, were infected, and are now becoming very tired at points, and coughing continuously. Luckily, on the day the gas attacks came, I was positioned at the back lines. The front lines are now under quarantine, just so the disease doesn’t spread.


Dear Journal,

Private Logan has died. They performed an autopsy on him, to make an attempt at discovering what this gas does to people. What they discovered was both disturbing and shocking. His insides had somehow encased themselves in a stone-like coating, preventing his heart, liver, lungs, and digestive system from functioning properly. When they peeled this coating away, his organs had decayed at an alarming rate. There is no known remedy for this disease. I am afraid Lieutenant Schick has already started vomiting pebbles. It is only a matter of time before I, too, am afflicted by this curse.


Dear Journal,

Death is upon us. At least 100 of our men have been diagnosed with “Stone Disease”. Many of them, including Lieutenant Schick, have died. Some of them got autopsies done. They all died of the same reason: The stone coating. Our scientists think it may be some kind of mold. It has bioorganic origins, so that may be the only explanation. We have continued to quarantine all areas affected, but the more we quarantine, the less space we have. I am afraid we only have enough supplies and guns to fend off the smallest of attacks. However, if the Germans pull a full scale attack, I doubt anybody will make it out alive. I have a bit of a cough, and I am feeling a bit tired. I’m going to go, and just take a bit of a rest. I will, hopefully, write again tomorrow.

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