User:Luxembourg

Files for the Fallen

A small tattered journal lies on the ground. You bend down and pry it from the . It's wrapped in shoddy linens and a crimson streak runs across the front. The binding is broken and smells of mildew. Claw marks and dried blood litter the back. However, draped over the book is a pair of beaten dog tags. Although mostly illegible, they read, "Luxembourg CDF". You open the book and begin to read...

Incribed on the first page is a cynical note, *If found, that most likely means the worst... I pray for it not...*

You skim through several pages. Ink and water bled through the pages, and you can barely make out any of the wording. As you reach the 7th page, the wording is relatively clear. A breeze blows past and you swivel around with a pistol in your hand, but no one is there. While you read, you swear you feel a slight breath breating on the hairs of your neck. Suddenly the words seem to come alive and appear before you...

Journal

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---Updating later...

Rain washes away the defiled blood of corpses outside... the thunder striking in unison with the bursts of pellets and shots. Moans and groans erupt