User:ORakoon/Old
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This is how my wiki page used to look. Kept here for personal archive purposes.
ORakoon
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To whom it may concern, I’m writing this in case I don’t get another chance. You never know what is going to happen in this accursed city. People say the city gives us immortality - death is but a setback, a minor inconvenience. The virus is both a curse and a miracle. A man who gets fatally shot can stand back up as one of them, and all it takes it a single syringe to bring them back to life. But it doesn’t work like that. Things are never that straight forward. Some people die, and never get back up. Sometimes I think they’re the lucky ones, freed from this living nightmare. But every time I’m faced with danger, I don’t choose to give up like they do. I fight on, even through death, because I’m scared. Scared of the unknown. I might be living through hell, but at least I can understand it. I haven’t even introduced myself. It’s the city, it controls my thoughts. I can’t concentrate on what I’m writing, too wary of those around me. Even with the barricades piled up securely against the doors, I don’t feel safe. Anyone of the poor souls around me could snap and start shooting, driven insane by this unnatural struggle for survival. I pity them, but there is nothing I can do. Killing them won’t help - they’ll just stand back up. People call me O’Rakoon. I have a real name, of course, but I never use it. I’m no longer that person. That person died the moment I was betrayed and left in this hell hole. I chose the name from seeing an article in a paper, published before the outbreak. It was about a raccoon in the zoo that had been born with orange fur. That was the first thing I saw when I landed in the city, blowing about in the wind along the abandoned streets. The next was one of the creatures lurching towards me. It was the most frightening moment of my life. Of course I had heard about the outbreak on the outside, but nothing could have prepared me for the once-human thing that was shambling towards me. I ran - what else could I do? I ran, and I’ve been running ever since, up until I found The Fortress. Finding The Fortress has been the only good thing that seems to have happened to me in this city. Without them, I doubt I would still be breathing. But now I have a purpose. The barricades are shaking, and pieces are starting to fall off. I can hear groaning from outside. The stench of rotten flesh is overpowering. I have to leave now. Time to start running again. It never stops, and neither will I. O’Rakoon |
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