Walking with a squad of British soldiers in Malton, England, June 5th, 2006 at 3:10 PM, Normal Phobic, born as Dylan Hope, 1977 in South Africa, was surrounded by Zombies. The English Sergeant said "I'd better look nice in these pictures"
I've been seperated from my assigned squad. The damn zeds got to us... I've covered alot of nasty things during my career, but it was a horrid sight to behold. Pvt. Marsh was torn limb from limb, and Pvt. Tuomisari... They tore his organs out while he was still alive, and only after about two minutes did they tear his throat out... Those screams...
I've been dead for about half a year... My arm's are too stiff to use a gun, let alone my camera. I'm gonna make a run to a mall and make it to safety
I've made it. I'm alive. I've managed to enter Ackland Mall. I've ditched most of my weapons, and found a camera store. I guess I felt guilty, because I 'payed' for my new gear. Atleast I can remember my training, so I won't take entirely shoddy photographs. I want to be here when the next seige hits, so I can cover it. I just pray it doesn't take too long. Atleast I now have a purpose.
I've been busy reviving zombies and I've taken plenty of good photographs. Right now I'm some tiny building restocking my inventory with syringes. I'm going to fall back to Ackland mall, or a suburb full of zombies. I've learned from some doctors how to perform minor surgery, and how to stop heavy bleeding. I allmost managed to help a rotter, but... He staggered off.
Was killed again, limbs still ache a little bit... Resting in Caiger Mall, which is risky, because a mass murder wouldn't be too hard to pull off. People have been gunning down ' murderers', got some great photos. I've grabbed ahold of a Palm, so I transferred all of my surviving notes onto it.
I was right. A mass murder did indeed take place (Pathetic Bill and Redrum pulled it off effeciently). I was killed as I snapped the shot off. On the bright side, I met a fellow photojournalist here, and allthough he managed to escape the mall before I, he was killed on their retreat party.
I was revived, and just as I was about to plunge my needle into iWitness Photoguy, I was killed by a zed. Ingrate. I had to sit and wait another week before a kind fellow jabbed me. Unfortunately, iWitness has wandered off... He can't have gone too far... I doubt I can find him, but I'll try. Just biding my time to leap up and begin my search. I guess I must still smell like a zombie or somthing. My PDA needs charging, I must have dropped my needle in the stuggle. Where is a funtional Necrotech when you need one?
What scares me the most is that I know how to completely ruin a building, and I seem to have killed more zombies with less energy.
From what I can tell from all the radio chatter, Ackland is under seige! If I find iWitness, I'm going to direct him to Ackland. A good story, and a decent chance for him to grab a mobile phone.
I've located him using my Necrotech. It was pure luck that I wandered into a building a couple of blocks from where he is awaiting a revive. I've allready planned out my route, and I'll just have to make sure I don't pass out from the physical exertion. This time, I will NOT be eaten at the revive point trying to help him.
He came to Ackland. I didn't revive him in time, but I woke up to see him gathering information. Ah, what could go wrong now? Ackland doesn't have the high profile that Caiger did.
I tried to find a necrotech building before I leave Ackland (I got the good stuff on digital sensor, such as a break in), but I came across some poor police department with no 'cades, doors shut and 15 zeds outside. I did the noble thing. Ah well, tomorrow is another day.
A ran across 8 suburbs to get into Joachim Mall. It turns out that there is a massive potential for a Red Rum strike to occure. I bumped into iWitness Photoguy here, aswell as John Pyre... Update later, need to scavenge some food.
Ah, that's good. There has been some sort of power stuggle here, with the DK13 and Red Rum each trying to discredit each other. If the rumours are true, a bout of Martial Law may actually make some great photos.
Me and iWitness Photoguy sat down and had a nice little talk. We decided that the quality of news outlets was poor, and decided to form our news paper. He's going to stay behind and cover the DK13/Red Rum fiasco, and I'm going to secure our Yagoton printing service.
Reports have surfaced that Ackland mall has fallen, yet again. I was sitting down in Bale Mall at the time cleaning my gear, when I got the phone call. It was somebody who must have seen my work, because they bellowed at me to get my ass down to Havercroft. Unfortunately, I was tired from grabbing shots from yesterday, and couldn't get down there. Oddly enough, an unfortunate acquaintance from before the outbreak sent me a picture taken with his phone, and asked if I wanted some brownies.
The screams were terrible. I was tired from the screams, and switched my radio off in mid-sentance for backup. I slept like a baby.
I'm in Bale mall, and near our printing press. The anticipation is electric in the air, as the possiblity of a Silent Night Slaughter looms ever closer. People are grimly looking forward to a new year, for the hopes of military aid has long since left their minds. My camera ever ready to grab the shot when I need it, I patroll the halls of the mall, waiting.
I've made a run for Ackland Mall again. I'm going to cover the construction of the mall from the inside, and I will do it well. I've been trying to make contact with BBC, but they haven't replied to me yet.
BBC responded. I'm in. Unfortunatly, The Reporter has stepped down from his position as the director of the BBC, leaving the orginasation in relative chaos. I've stepped up to help them get back on their feet, not as a leader, but as a recruiter. I broadcast a messege on every mall frequency advertising space in the BBC. I've aslo stumbled across a video camera. I'm going to record all my entrys on tape.
I've been busy covering combat in Fort Creedy. It seems I was killed. However, when I was revived, I ran back to the fort. A dying soldier gave me his dog tags. I recognized him. It was Sgt. Kent. Sergent James Kent. He was in pain, so I euthenised him. Right after that, I used my last remaining syringe to revive him. His body may still be in fort for all I know.
I've given up on Baghdad Al-Jadida. Nothing happened. On an assignment for the BBC, check the news stands of Malton soon for the artical and pictures