User:Jester Nightbreed

Name: Donald W[1]
Rank: Private
Serial Number: <deleted>
Branch: United States Marine Corps

Current Age: 19
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 180 lbs
Hair/Eyes: Dark brown/black

Former Squad: Zulu Squad
Surviving Members: 2 of 5

Affiliation: Omega Squad Survivors

Background

He was once nothing more than a proud young member of the United States Marine Corps. A private, fresh out of boot camp with nothing more than a broken heart, wits, training and a rifle. Though his life was never technically easy, even hardships and pain could have never prepared him for the hellish nightmare they were shipping him into. The Marines forged him into a weapon.. Malton tempered him with fire.

The Early Days

From the moment he entered Malton, the endeavor was wrought with peril. His squad's Blackhawk experienced technical difficulties in the form of an exploded rotor, compliments of a murderous group of rebels that weren't too happy to see military presense in their glorious apocalypse. Despite it all, one very talented pilot managed to awkwardly land the 'bird' in the middle of a city square.

It was in that moment, as they all poured out of a half capsized helicopter and struggled to avoid the spinning propeller, that the reality hit home. The had been warned, but the horrors that followed immediately after were too overpowering for the human mind. Unfortunately, the entire first night was repressed from Donald's memory. Some time during the botched initial insertion, he was stricken violently on the head and lost consciousness. By the time he awoke, nearly out of ammo and crammed uncomfortably in a locker logically too small for his tall frame, he was alone and confused..

Those first weeks determined the man he would become, for they were spent with nobody but himself and he was given plenty of time to reflect. With nothing but his memories, his journal[2] and his gun, he was forced to accept the solitude and scavenger lifestyle into which he had been so violently thrust. Alone, helpless, aimless and confused. His manner of coping: alcohol, whatever marijuana he could find and the further erection of an emotional wall. These were arguably the darkest days of his life..

The Struggle

In early October, Donald's fighting spirit was beginning to return. Although alcohol was still his choice poison, he had finally decided to project his turmoil on paper. For a time it was helping.. There was also renewed hope as his old highschool friend and buddy system co-signer, Chris (aka Viox) managed to reach him via police banner. It may not have been the whole squad, but any contact with the Corps at all was enough to renew a little faith. The two immediately began forming a plan to make contact and a rally point was formed.

To be continued...

	Remember, Remember the 5th of November
	This user or group supports the vendetta against the villainous undead in Ridleybank. On the 5th of November, we will march on the choked heart of Malton and liberate it anew. Victory will be ours, and with it, vengeance!