Journal:Typhinn
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The Journal is a small black book, the corners are worn away and the bottom corner is missing. Each page shows a day and up to the end of October it is fairly empty, with a few notes, important date and birthdays listed.
Inside the front cover it says; "This diary belongs to: Typhinn Pace ", there's also a phone number written in there
30th October '05
I must have been here about half a month now, I got seperated while trying to put out a fire. Being from out of town and don't know my way round. I headed south, that's the way we came. Then as luck would have it I bumped into someone I knew, a police officer. We were both tired and couldn't go on so we stopped in a school for the night, it was lightly barricaded and there were a few other people in there, I didn't get to know them at all. Maybe I should have, but I was just too tired.
It was when I woke that I was really scared. I was in the school still, three dead bodies and the doors were wide open! I was perfectly all right, not injured at all. But it seemed to me the others had been attacked. Did this mean they'd become them too? It was my friend from the police force, why had I survived? Maybe they didn't see me? Or maybe I don't taste to good... I didn't know what to do. I dragged the bodies outside and closed the doors. Then decided it's not safe in here. So I continued south, I found a hospital, it seemed quite strongly barricaded, it looked like there might be someone inside. It was dark and looked like it had been cleared out in a hurry. I wasn't really scared. Death seems a lot less worse when it appears you don't actually die.
I found a few people in there, quite a few people. I've stayed there and listened to what they've had to say.
I hear there's something happening at Giddings Mall I don't feel good sitting here, waiting to be attacked I want to help defend. I think I can make it, it's north east. I'm going to leave later today, that's why I've written this Journal, a better time than any to do so. I may not make it. But I've got my trusty fire axe, haven't taken any out yet but I wouldn't have gotten this far without it...
31st October
I made it to Giddings Mall, just in time, I don't think I could have made it much further. Today, I woke, reports of break-ins in the south east corner first got me worried, I went to check. There were few survivors there, only a few though, where had the others gone?
I stepped outside and there must have been at least 200 zombies! I attacked one and headed around the back to look for a way in. Then it happened, I killed one, it already looked injured, so I hit it with my axe, again and again, then it fell. It was strange, I almost pitied it. I ran inside. I managed to learn a bit of freerunning a few days ago, glad I did now.
Anyway, inside now about to go to sleep. I think I may not survive to see the morning, the barricades are running thin...
1st November '05
I found myself laying outside, covered in bites and scratches, all I can say is a few mumbled words and find myself with a strange need of human flesh, what has happened? I think I know, but I can't believe it. Now I'm what I was trying to get rid off... and yet I can't stop myself, I need braaainnnsss... I'm attacking people to eat them. I don't want to. But I am.
2nd November '05
Uhh... The mall has fallen into our hands. I came here, as a Survivor, to defend it and I'm leaving, as a Zombie, searching for a quick snack. It's frustrating, I can't think, a couple days ago I could have done all, but the most complicated, of tasks. Now I'm having trouble walking, I'm sure there's a way to get pass these door things, but I can't quite remember how. I'm running on instinct, or so it feels. My brains doing what it wants, what it needs and I have no control over it. It's after food.
But now I'm off to smash at a barricade or two, I'm sure I can smell the warmth of human flesh round here somewhere...
The page showing 3rd and 4th of November 2005 have been ripped out at the spine and what appears to be blood has splattered over the next page.
5th November '05
I've found somewhere that seems familiar, I feel safe here. I don't feel myself though, with everyday that passes by, I seem to loose control of what I do more and more. It's frightening at the best of times.
The next few paragraphs is indecipherable, due to a splattering of blood. It appears to say something about being attacked by other zombies, but that's all that can be made out
I'm slowly getting the hang of walking though, I hope soon I'll be walking as fast as I ever have. Anyway. As long as my head stays intact I'll be alright, for now.
6th November '05
The writing on the page has been written with poor hand writing and is barely readable, from what's legible, it seems to say
I don't know what's happening. My brain's become clouded. I think I'm becoming more like them. I don't like it.
The next few days have scribbles on them but only a few words can be read, as the days go on the handwriting gets worse
21st November '05
Was I a zombie? I can't really remember, it was like a dream, or a nightmare. It was horrible, running on instinct, could control myself. Must get some sleep.
