User:Genesius Alvarez
23 February - I had a nightmare last night. I saw dozens of chained souls screaming my name. They were straining at their heavy bonds, their ghostly flesh rubbed raw, parts being ripped off in a grizzly orgy of violence. I woke up in a cold sweat and tried to go about my daily routine in the seminary, but all throughout my studies and prayers, their images haunted me.
27 February - Five straight nights of the same terror. Their numbers keep rising, last night there were millions of the wretched creatures stretched from horizon to horizon, all screaming my name, as though they expected me to do something! I can no longer focus on my work with so many troubling issues. I've resolved to see the monsignor tomorrow to ask his advice and guidance. Until then, I pray for a more tanquil night.
28 February - The conversation was not what I was expecting. I told Monsignor de la Playa about the images and as I increased the details, his face became more and more grim. He looked at me and smiled at me in the most serrious way. "It appears," he said, "that the good lord has selected you for something greater than the priesthood." He handed me a newspaper, I had not seen one since entering the seminary 8 months ago. The headlines were shocking, a outbreak of undead in a city called Malton. Government quarentines were in effect as the dead were left to die at the hands of the hordes that haunted my dreams. They were staring up at me from the pictures in silent agony I knew only too well. I looked up to the Father, a man I had known since childhood. I was an acolyte as a child for his masses and could always feel the power of the lord flowing from his tongue durring his sermons, but now he stared at me in awe. "You must cleanse the abomination from the Earth, my son." I what weapon would the lord arm me with for such a crusade. "Knowledge," he replied as he flipped the paper over revealing an advertisement for Necrotech, a science firm specialising in the study of the undead. I must leave this calling for another.
2 March - It has been an interesting birthday. I left my home in Comillas, the only one I've ever known, and travelled by train to Madrid. The plane trip to New York City was uneventful. It felt strange to wear civilian clothes after the robes of the seminary, but de la Playa reminded me that the creatures who would rise against me would surely target a servent of the lord first. He suggested it would be wiser to keep my head down. New York is a polar opposite of Comillas. My tiny stipend will not last long here, but life is livable when one lives humbly on the streets of the "Big Apple." I enquired at Necrotech Labs' main building here. They seemed very eager to recruit me. Looking arround, there were precious few others who were applying for work here.
7 March - It seems the quarentine on Malton is absolute, they expect me to do my lab work well behind enemy lines. I first thought this was sufficent to fulfill my destiny, arming the world with knowledge as the monsignor wanted, but the dreams are getting worse. Now, the creatures are pulling me into the fray, dragging me away from safety. There can only be one interpretation: I must get to the frontlines themselves.
12 March - I've been training myself on a device called an extractor in my spare time at the lab which is becoming more and more precious as more and more samples are coming in. Each test tube represents a shattered life, and my racks grow more and more full by the day. I am growing impatient, I am not yet strong enough to go out and act but I am too valuable to waste here!
24 March - I've finally mastered DNA extraction techniques, it should be valuable in the upcoming fights. I'm also learning incredible ammounts about the technology here. There is this chemical that can reverse the zombification process, a weapon against the undead at last! I will need to know more to weild it effectively, and most of the stocks of the chemicals were shipped to Malton before the quarentine and are now cut off. Odds are, though, I should be able to find pleanty of stock once there and free the binds of those afflicted.
31 March - I requested a transfer to Malton, but the company says I'm too valuable here. Apparently, my lab work is exceptional. No matter, I have my access card, my extractor, my skills, and most importantly, a clear plan of how to fulfill my divine mission. Get to Malton, scan the undead, get syringes with the chemical, and reverse this unholy scourge upon the Earth. My path is clear, may the lord grant me swiftness in fulfilling his sacred crusade.
3 April - Malton, what a sight. A huge sprawling city with a gigantic square cut straight through its center by imposing concrete walls and millitary patrols. I hear shots every once in a while and a flare lit up the night sky. I've heard rumors that the flares are used by millitary scouts to id hot spots of the undead, massive hordes of hundreds of them clawing through improvised barricades against the civilian, millitary, and Necrotech survivors. More troubling are the quislings, the regular humans who became undead sympathisers trying to bring on the apocolypse. They'll find safehouses and send up flares to draw the hordes in. It sends shivers down my spine that humanity could be so betrayed. The moans make sleeping difficult, but the dreams have stopped. I suppose tomorrow I face the nightmare for real.
4 April - The gaurds don't question Necrotech personel willing to go into the city. With scanner in hand, I started to collect data and get my bearings. I started off in some make-shift labspace. I managed to tag 4 of the creatures without being injurred, the lord is looking out for me. Sadly, I rolled my ankle and could no longer walk quickly. I decided to hold up in a nearby factory that was partially baricaded. There are other survivors here, but none seem in the mood to talk. I suppose I am on my own here. Save for the lord, he is always with me.
