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Server time (UTC): 2022-12-08 06:25

Adrian Jackson
Character information
  1. Alias
  2. Mental
    The things we've done to survive..they don't define us.
  3. Morale
  4. Date of birth
    1990-03-06 (32 years old)
  5. Place of birth
    Salt Lake City, Utah
  6. Nationality
  7. Ethnicity
  8. Languages
  9. Relationship
  10. Family


  1. Height
    180 cm
  2. Weight
    70 kg
  3. Build
    Average, relatively thin for his height
  4. Hair
    Long messy black hair
  5. Eyes
  6. Alignment
    Chaotic Evil
  7. Features
    Disabilities: Schizophrenia, Kleptomania, Anxiety, Depression, Brain Prion disease.
  8. Occupation
  9. Affiliation
  10. Role


Adrian "Jack" Jackson


"There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who hunt armed men long enough and like it, never care for anything else after"

-Ernest Hemmingway


Adrian Jackson is a man born from nothing. His drug addicted, abusive parents left him to fend for himself, a talent he had taken to well. He cared little for anyone around him, only keeping himself alive on the streets. When things went poorly, he was never afraid to steal for what he needed, eventually stealing from the wrong person. He found himself on the run, fleeing his home city, at only 16 years old. When he found a new home, he tried to set up a new life, to be the person he wanted to be. He found work aboard a cargo ship, starting a new honest life, a life that landed him in Chernarus.

He spent much of his life in Chernarus after that, rebuilding his world as he knew it, a world that came crashing down with the AVM Virus.

Eventually, as Chernarus became a wasteland, he found his way to Nyheim.


Insatiable Pt. 1


 Insatiable Pt. 1


Adrian knelt alone in the woods. In front of him lay the corpse of a now unidentifiable man. Next to him lay Adrian’s bat, now covered in blood. The face of the man had been beaten into a crimson pulp, and now his arms were being torn apart and eaten--and not by infected. He looked out over the nearby town of Vybor. He thought it stupid to feed here, but he didn’t have much of a choice.


As he ate, Adrian listened for the sounds around him. Birds chirping away carefree; twigs snapping as small rodents and nearby infected carelessly droned their semi-lifeless bodies aimlessly; a slow, unbalanced pace came up behind him. Adrian knew it was a person. Whoever it was walked with a limp. He felt the barrel of a rifle pressed against his head before he could react differently. His hands dropped the arm and rose into the air.

“Doctor” Alexander Camille was standing behind him with a VSS leveled to the back of his head. Adrian muttered to himself as Alex spoke.

“Care to explain who this poor bastard was?”

His tone was sharp. He pushed the barrel harder into the back of Adrians head. As a precaution, Alex kicked Adrians bat away from him. As he did, he winced in pain from putting pressure on his right leg.

“Didn’t get his name. I needed meat Doctor, and as far as I could tell, he wasn’t a friend of yours,” Adrian replied, reaching into his jacket; Alex pressed the barrel into him harder.

“Relax, I’m grabbing something to wipe my hands off.”

Adrian grabbed a rag from his jacket and wiped the man’s blood off his hands and mouth. Alex spoke again, moving the barrel back from his head, but keeping the gun raised, his prosthetic leveled against the front of tiny magazine for support.

“You can’t go feeding your addiction this close to my compound. Can you imagine what people would think if they saw you? If it was this easy for me to come across you, what would happen if someone saw you who didn’t know about what you are?”

Adrian gritted his teeth at the comment and replied sharply.

“What I am? What I am is a victim of circumstance. Do you think I like this? Do you think I want to kill people for food? You said it yourself. It’s an addiction, a disorder. I can’t control it.” Adrian’s tone seemed genuine--whether Alex believed him or not was a different story.

Alex paused for a moment, lowering the gun slightly. Looking over his shoulder, Adrian saw this and spun, grabbing the barrel of the rifle, taking it from the doctor’s hands and stepping back.

Adrian leveled the gun to Alex’s chest and held it for a moment as the doctor’s arms rose up in defiant surrender. His eyes narrowed indignantly; Adrian pressed the magazine release and ejected the round from the chamber, tossing the mag aside and handing his rifle back to him.

“If you’re going to talk to me, it’s going to be face to face, and without guns.”

Alex took his rifle and rest it in the backpack strap, sighing as he did so.

“Fine… without guns.” Alex checked the perimeter around them once again. “Why here? Why so close to the camp? You that insatiable?”

“Like I said, I needed to eat. If it makes it better at all, he stole a few things from your camp. Feel free to take them off his corpse. Only reason I did it here was because I had no other options. Would you rather have me standing in your compound and unload into a crowd of survivors, just because I didn’t kill someone near your town?”

Alex replied quickly, as if he had a response prepared.

“I would rather one person die than ten, but I would also rather not be accused of cannibalism or harboring them. Society, or what’s left of it, tends to see you people as some of the worst kind of people out there.”

“No trial, no case for reason. People don’t listen to why we are the way we are. You look at us as if we are sub-human, but we’re just as human as you. Do you think I enjoy being a cannibal, Alex?”

“You haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise.”

“I hate killing to eat. I hate having to fight to make sure I don’t gun down a crowd of people without reason. I want to have one night where... the things I’ve done to survive... don’t weigh me down, and suffocate me. This isn’t something I enjoy living with! It’s what I had to do to survive.”

“We’ve all done bad things to survive, but cannibalism is something most people can’t and don’t forgive.”

“Then why didn’t you kill me as soon as you realized what I do? Why didn’t you kill me now?”

As Alex spoke, Adrian leaned down and grabbed his bat off the dirt and flicked the blood from it.

“For the same reason I told you as soon as I had my suspicions.” Once he began reaching for the bat, Alex also leaned down, returning the VSS magazine to its home in the gun, taking a step back. “You’re not incurable. You’re not insatiable. You just chose the wrong meal one day, and you’re living with the consequences. Your brain is fighting off a nearly incurable neurological disorder as the proteins from other men’s flesh are ingested into your bloodstream.”

“In English, Doc, we all didn’t go to Harvard,” Adrian blurted out as he used the bloodied rag to wipe some of the excess blood off of his bat.

“Johns Hopkins,” Alex retorted. “But you said it yourself--” He pointed with the barrel of his rifle at the body laying on the ground, already beginning to give off a stench of death. It seemed neither of them were bothered by it. “You hate being this way. You trying to tell me you want to fight this?”

Adrian stared back at the body, as if he was trying to fight back not simply wanting to lean back down and continue gnawing at him as they spoke.

“Of course I do.”

“Then step one is leaving this body to its own devices. Go grab a shovel from the camp and come back. The least we can do for this poor unfortunate man is give him a proper burial.” He had a callous, sing-songy tone to his voice. It seemed Alex cared just as little about the man laying in the dirt with his face beaten in and chunks of his flesh missing as Adrian did.

“If I walk down there you’re  coming with me. I don’t particularly feel like being shot in the back.”

“Fine then, lets go.”

Alex began to limp towards the compound, leading the way there. As they walked, Adrian lagged behind, his thoughts running wild. Is he just trying to throw me under the bus? Will this really all be over? Should I even try to fix this addiction? Can I trust him?

They continued their walk to the compound and Adrian grabbed a shovel and began to walk back to the body. Alex continued to lead the way as they walked. Adrian stopped walking for a moment and spoke.



“If you ever point a gun at me again, it will be the last time you can hold one.”

Alex paused for a second, as if he was deciding how to react.

“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll never point a gun at you again so long as you never pull one out of my hands again.”

Adrian dug a small grave for the body in silence, rolling it unceremoniously into the grave and piling the dirt back on top. Alex looked into the distance, casually overlooking the compound and the city to its west. He considered firing off a round at an infected that was slowly fumbling its way across the field, but decided against it--stealth was a necessity, considering their dead “friend.” When he was finished, Adrian spoke again.

“What the Hell am I gonna do, Alex?” He sounded labored and upset, but this was likely because of the shovelling he had just done.

Alex turned slowly, staring at him from the side of his head.

“You stop.”

“Call me a conspiracy fuckin’ theorist but I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“Nothing in this world is simple anymore. But if you don’t take control of yourself now, your mind will take control of you--and someone will have to stop you.” A more paranoid man could have taken that as a threat. “Come speak to me later tonight. We’ll talk more about how to… fix you.”

Alex unceremoniously pulled his trademark bottle of painkillers from his backpack’s pouch closest to his right hand, shaking a tiny, light blue capsule out onto his tongue. He grimaced at the medically unpalatable taste as he lurched his head back to swallow it, capping the bottle and returning it to his backpack. Adrian hoisted the shovel onto his shoulder, walking back down toward the compound.

“Right… ‘fix’ me. Good luck, Doc.”

Insatiable Pt. 2



Adrian walked alone through the Takistan desert. He felt his empty canteen hit against his side as he walked, every time it hit, it almost spoke to him.

Empty, Empty, Empty.

It had been three days since he crossed the infected-ridden borders of South Zagoria into the deserts of Takistan. With the disappearance of the man treating his addiction, Adrian had made the decision to move west to Takistan. He wanted to find someone to help him, even if it meant he had to travel for miles.


Adrian heard the little voice in his head he had listened to for months speak again.



He had first started hearing it a week after he had eaten human flesh. His first thought was that it was because of his lack of human contact, that he just needed to meet some people. He didn’t realize that it was because he needed to feed his newfound addiction.

Find someone to eat.

This voice--Adrian had lost control for a while. He listened to it, let it dictate his actions, came to see it as an extension of himself. He didn’t think of it as something that would be terrible for him. After a while however, he came to realize what it really was. After meeting “Doctor” Alexander Camille, and subsequently being recognized by him as a cannibal, Adrian had begun to realize this voice was his hunger, his addiction. 


Adrian tried to banish the thought. He never enjoyed eating people, but he knew it for a while as the only way to get the voice to leave him. He might have listened to the voice, but he never liked it. He viewed it as he viewed himself, a monster. He turned his attention to his surroundings; he needed to find a place to get out of the heat, and fill his canteen.



Since he crossed the border, he had only found a few shacks and what he thought were farms. He scrounged supplies when he found them, and managed to fill his water a few times, but over the last day, he had found nothing but sand and tumbleweed. He was traveling west into the country, and he didn’t know any Farsi, or have a map of the land, the two things he wasn’t thinking about when he left. Ahead of him, he could see the top of what might have been either trees or buildings behind a rather large hill of dirt and sand.



As he crested the hill, ahead of him he saw a collection of buildings, surrounded by a tall chain link fence with barbed wire over the top. Adrian lay down on the hill and pulled a pair of binoculars from his jacket to get a better look. Looking through them, he observed the compound. Makeshift catwalks lined the fence wrapping around the compound, along them were several Takistani men walking along them, armed with several different AK models. Working inwards, he saw several makeshift shacks lining the perimeter of several old military buildings. In the center of it was a small prison building. A few ladders were mounted on the walls leading to a sandbag fortified position on the roof, where several more armed guards sat, including a few snipers. Near the makeshift shacks were what Adrian thought were cages. Inside, there were people, most of them barely clothed. Adrian couldn’t make out features, but most of them looked incredibly thin. Even from the distance he was at, he could count their ribs. As he observed the compound, he heard the voice again.


An entire cage full of food. Go. Eat.

Adrian stuffed the binoculars in his jacket and began to push himself up, but as he came up onto his knees, he felt something hit the back of his head, and was immediately out cold.




He was lying on a couch in a pristine, white house. There was no sound of the growling infected, no ringing of gunfire--it was safe. Adrian looked up and saw who was talking to him. Standing over him was his lost love, Kira. Adrian tried to reach out to her, but his arms wouldn’t move. As he turned his head, his perspective changed. He was kneeling in the mud, his hands cuffed behind his back. His heart began to race as he remembered where he was. Ahead of him, he watched Kira smile at him, while the man who killed her leveled his rifle to the back of her head.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine.”

He awoke as the gun fired.


He awoke strapped down to a chair; to his right, his rifle and equipment rested against a wall. A Takistani woman was sitting in a chair nearby, pouring over some notes. Adrian struggled against the binds, trying to get out of them. The woman looked up from her notes and saw he was awake. As she did, she quietly stood up and stepped out of the room. Adrian continued to fruitlessly struggle against the bindings for a few minutes until the woman returned to the room with another man behind her. It was a tall Takistani man, wearing a sleeveless t-shirt with a tactical vest over it. His jeans were tattered and worn, and strapped onto his leg was a tan pistol holster with what Adrian thought to be a .45 USP. In his hands was an AKM. When he entered, he dragged a metal chair that was against the wall in front of Adrian and sat down, leaning his AK against his leg. Adrian looked up towards him as he spoke; the man said a few words in Farsi at first, but when Adrian clearly didn’t understand him, he switched to English. His thick Takistan accent made it somewhat hard for Adrian to understand him.



“Who are you, outsider?”


Adrian replied, his gravelly voice considerably prominent due to thirst.


“Name’s... Jack. Care to explain this?”


He jerked at the cuffs in response.


“A precaution--surely you understand. Why are you here?”


“I’m here because your people whacked me in the back of the head and brought me here.”



“I mean Takistan, we saw you scoping out the compound.”



“I’m here because I’m getting away from the infested cesspool that is Chernarus.”



The man leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. He was quiet for a brief moment, as if he were assessing Adrian. After a moment, he finally spoke,



“My name is Taklani, and this compound you’re observing is my place. And you, you were trespassing on our land. Now tell me, ‘Jack’, what do you think you saw from that hill?”



Adrian paused for a moment, pondering the question, What did I see? What really was I looking at? After a moment, the voice piped in, You were looking at an entire compound of food, ready to be taken. Adrian banished the thought once again and replied.



“I was looking at a well armed and supplied compound with underfed prisoners.”



Taklani smirked, as if the comment gave him some form of pleasure.



“Hm, prisoners is...eh, not the word I would use for it, but what you say is true. We are well armed, as you can see.” Taklani nudged the AK leaning against him.



“We are also well supplied. Now, we have no interest in taking you prisoner, but we also have no interest in letting you stay. We will fill your canteen, then send you on your way.”



Without waiting for Adrian to reply, Taklani stood up and motioned for the doctor to release his restraints. With his bindings removed, Adrian went over and took his equipment from the wall. Taklani tightened his grip on his AK when Adrian picked up his AUG, but loosened up when Adrian slung his rifle onto his back.



Taklani led the the pair through the base, and Adrian took in as much of his surroundings as he could. Several run down shacks had cages lining the walls. Inside the cages were mostly Takistani men and women. They were all granted barely any clothing, and most of the women weren’t even granted tops to wear. The smell of the base was horrid: most of the guardsmen wore respirators to block the smell of urine and feces. Adrian reached into his coat and was met with a guard pointing his weapon at him, Adrian shouted up to him, “Just getting something for the smell.”



The guard paused for a moment then nodded, keeping an eye on him but returning to his route. Adrian pulled a respirator from his jacket and pulled it over his face. Taklani led him to the back of the compound, where the buildings became less worn down and there were little to no “prisoners” being held. Adrian assumed this was where the guards kept their supplies and slept. Taklani led him to a pump-jack well, where Adrian filled his canteen. As he did, Taklani spoke.



“So, ‘Jack,’ what do you think, now that you’ve seen the place up close?”



Adrian thought his answer through for a second before replying.



“I believe that this place is a pile of shit, but it’s been turned into a profit zone. Let me guess, it’s truly a slave camp isn’t it?”



Taklani gave an eerie chuckle before replying.



“Correct! We take these people, sell them for ammo and goods, and then trade that ammo and goods for more people to sell. Turns a nice tidy profit.”



Adrian finished filling his canteen and Taklani spoke.



“Two of my men will escort you out of our territory, but then you’re on your own.”



He waved his hand and two Takistani men, armed similarly to Taklani, came to his side. He said something in Farsi to them and they nodded, waving for Adrian to follow them. They led him back through the camp and out the front gates. 



The blazing sun was finally setting as they walked. The two men kept a brisk pace, and Adrian followed closely, getting lost in his thoughts. He thought of his dream, of Kira. He thought of Chernarus, of the now dead man who could no longer help him. He began to realize he might not be able to fix his addiction. That he was insatiable. These thoughts brought a familiar sound too him.


Kill them. Feed.

Adrian stopped walking for a moment and his escort didn’t stop until they were a few feet ahead of them. They turned to look at him, and one of them spoke in broken English.


“We go. Move, quickly.”



Adrian nodded, and the pair turned their backs. As they did, Adrian quickly brought AUG from his back to his sling and dropped to a knee, steadying his aim, he shot both of them down. The first one died instantly, the second fell into shock from the pain. Adrian sighed and stood up, slinging the AUG. He walked over to the unconscious man and jammed an Epi-pen in his side, waking him up.



The man screamed in pain as Adrian stared down at him with a sick smile on his face. He stood on the back of his arm, where the bullet had entered. He reached down and pulled his knife from his boot, casually and effortlessly dragging the blade across his neck, jamming the blade through his jugular and throat just to make sure.. Tearing the knife out, he began the task of cutting up the bodies, and feeding.



He might not like it, but he won’t change. His hunger for human flesh was insatiable.


Insatiable Pt. 3


A gunshot rings out, the heavy .357 slug shatters the wood on the wall next to Adrian as he drops a magazine to the floor, and slams a fresh one home in his AUG. On the ground next to him lay the body of his previous victim, and the splintered remains of his nailed bat. Crimson blood seeped from the man’s caved skull, staining the oak wood floors. .45 and 5.56 bullet casings lay strewn about the room. An empty UMP mag lay next to the now unidentifiable corpse on the ground, along with it’s matching weapon. Splinters and broken chunks of wood scatter across the dirty kitchen. Another .357 blasts through the wall, inches from Adrians right arm. The yells of his next victim rang out around the house,

“You ain’t gonna kill me!”

Adrian waited quietly, listening for the sounds of his revolver. He heard another shot ring out, Six. He’s about to reload. As if queued by Adrians thoughts, he heard the metallic whir of the cylinder of the revolver flip out, and the unmistakable sound of casings hitting the floor. As they did, Adrian burst from cover and sprayed his rounds into the wall. A scream of pain rang out as he heard his assailant shuffle on the other side of the wall. Hit him, non fatal. Leg shot most likely from the sound of the movement. He never finished reloading. Adrian charged around the corner and saw the man before him, limping away from the cannibal. Adrian quickly fired a burst from the AUG, hitting him in a tight cluster on his left leg. The man fell to the ground, his revolver sliding out of his grasp. Adrian lowered his rifle, walking slowly up behind the man. His victim crawled forward for the revolver. As he walked forward, he spotted a full speed loader lying on the ground, He dropped it when I hit him. With a sick smile on his face, Adrian stopped and let the man grab the revolver, it’s cylinder now locked firmly into place on the gun from the fall. The survivor raised the revolver at Adrians chest, hesitating for a moment as he saw Adrians smirk.

“Do it.”

Adrian said quietly. The wounded mans hands trembled,

“Do it!”

Adrian yelled across the room.

“Pull the trigger!”

The survivor closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger, clicking the revolvers hammer harmlessly. Eyes wide with fear, the survivor pulled the trigger again and again, the revolver harmlessly clicking each time.

“Six shots, that’s all you get.”

Adrian walked forward and placed his boot on the mans now wounded leg, placing his weight onto the foot. The man screamed in pain, as the pressure built on his wound, blood spraying the floor around him. Adrian slung his rifle, letting the pressure off the man’s leg as he walked forward, drawing his blade and pistol from their respective scabbard and holster. He let the gun hang loosely in his hand, pointed straight at the victim’s chest. Adrian smiled down at the victim. He squeezed the trigger of his 1911, and to the victims shock and somewhat relief, the pistol clicked. Adrian’s smirk widened as he tightened his grip on the pistol and raised it to his other hand, pulling the slide back and cycling a round into the chamber. He let the pistol drift back across the man’s body, drifting from side to side, until the barrel landed on his arm. As it did, Adrian stomped on his hand and pulled the trigger, breaking his hand and blasting a hole through the victim’s arm. Screaming in pain, Adrian holstered his pistol, rested his knee on the wound, and pressed the blade of his knife to the man’s neck, casually and effortlessly dragging it across his throat and jamming it into his jugular. At this point, he couldn’t tell if it was Jack or Adrian in control anymore. He didn’t care much really. The man’s screams cut off with a short burst of air from his lungs as he drew his final breath. Twisting the blade, Adrian ripped it out of the man’s neck. As he raised himself to one knee, he heard the unmistakable sound of brass rolling across the floor. Adrian reflexively drew his pistol, spun, and set himself in a firing position, pointed right at the door. As he did, he heard a man giggle.

“Hehehe, what’re you doing there buddy? Playing with your toys?”

A hand appeared from around the door, waving at him. Adrian reflexively fired, grazing the man’s thumb, tearing a layer of skin from his hand and leaving a sizeable hole in the wall. As he did, he heard the sound of a pistol slide drawing back as a barrel was pressed against the side of his head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

A man with an American accent spoke next to him, his voice sounded sophisticated, if rather psychotic. It reminded him of Alex in its nature, and of Jack in its sound. Adrian dropped his pistol to the floor and held his hands up in a defiant surrender. As he did, the other man rounded the corner. He was wearing an orange prisoner jumpsuit, carrying all sorts of guns and blades on his back and waist. The prisoners eyes had a look of deranged rage in them, dirt and dried blood stained his face as he looked at Adrian with a toothy grin. His teeth were yellow and stained, with what, Adrian couldn’t tell. His grin changed to a sarcastic frown, his eyes turning from a psychotic wideness to a squinted, emphasized sadness. He whimpered sarcastically, cradling his grazed hand.

“Oh, poor poor Reggie, he got a booboo.”

Adrian assessed the situation mentally, as the deranged prisoner approached him. Guy to my right is probably a doctor of some kind. Lightly armed, probably not used to killing. ‘Reggie’ is probably a split personality. Only kind of people I know talk in third person like that. Doc has got a bad position on me. Grab and roll could disarm him. Doesn’t look like ‘Reggie’ is carrying his gun now, could draw one though. To hell with it, only cowards die on their knees. As the man, deemed as ‘Reggie’ by Adrian, approached him, he made his move. He used his right hand to push the barrel upwards, as he did, the doctor squeezed the trigger, the bullet flying up and into the ceiling, showering them in splinters. Adrian ripped the weapon from his hands as he rolled towards the other side of the room. He grabbed his knife as he rolled before planting his feet, he sprung into a standing position, inches to the right of the doctor. Thinking quickly, he hit the doctor with the bottom of the pistol, stunning him for long enough for Adrian to get behind him with a gun to his head, and blade pressed to his throat.

“Back off if you care about your friends head.” 

The man Adrian thought was a doctor fought fruitlessly against Adrians iron grip as the inmate stopped in front of him. As Adrian expected, he had drawn a pistol, but it wasn’t pointed at him. The FNX-45 dangled uselessly in his hand down next to him. His tone had changed, the childlike voice of the inmate was gone, and in its place was the voice of a young man. It was a calm, but eerie tone. Adrians suspicions had been confirmed, the man had a split personality. He was talking to the new one now.

“I like your style. Tough, ruthless, aggressive. You pull that trigger, you’re dead. But if you try to take him with you, you’ll be dead later. So your options are limited here.”

Adrian pressed the barrel against his hostages head harder,

“What’s to stop me from killing you then him?”

The inmate laughed, sending an eerie chill down Adrians spine,

“Oh you don’t want to do that, you get nothing out of it. The way I see it, we could both benefit here.”

Adrian paused for a second, letting the barrel loosen slightly from the man’s head.

“Elaborate, but do it quickly.”

The inmate smiled and spoke rapidly.

“Only kind of man I know who kills like you do are serial killers, and cannibals. Either works for my gain, and if you’re the latter, it will work for yours too. You work with us, you can help us do what we want, and in exchange, you can get all the food you need.” 

Adrian thought the idea over for a moment, 

Could be nice to be able to have backup when I need to feed. But can I even trust these guys? I mean, one had a gun to my head, and I’ve got a gun to his. Could be a bait. 

As if he had read Adrian’s thoughts, ‘Reggie’ dropped his pistol to the ground.

“Let him go, and we can talk about this.”

Adrian roughly let his grip go and shoved the man towards his ally, keeping the pistol he took leveled at their chest.

“One wrong move, and this deal ends with two bodies. Got it?”

‘Reggie’ smiled,

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Adrian put the doctors pistol in his own holster and reached down to grab his, keeping his eyes on both of them as he did. After retrieving his pistol, Adrian spoke cautiously,

“So what are you two anyway? A doctor and his patient?”

The doctor spoke first,

“I’m Doctor Marcus, Dean’s psychiatric professional. And this is Dean McDougal, or Reggie McDougal. A patient of mine with a split personality, as you have no doubt deduced. And you are?”

Adrian responded as he normally does,

“Names Jack, and you’re right. I’ve done my own share of killing and eating. So let me get this straight, you want me to join you on some kind of killing spree?”

“Not a killing spree per say. We just want to, er, have some fun we’ll say.”

Adrian kicked the idea around in his head, Jack decided to pipe in as well, 

Join them, kill, feed. 

Before Adrian could say anything, Dean spoke again,

“If you need any more incentive to join, here’s another.”

As he spoke, he raised his hand and a laser appeared through the window of the building, trained on Adrian. As the laser appeared, the childish laugh of Reggie returned. Adrian trained his gun on Reggie as he did.

“Call him off, or you’ll be dead before he can even pull the trigger.”

“Ooooh friend don’t be so silly! We’re all friends here, all basement buddies free for the fun!”

“Call, him, off.”

“I will, after you agree to join us. We could do so many fun things.I know you like to play, so let’s be friends and play with others.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll nail your head to the walls after we take turns tearing you apart.”

Could kill him and roll to the floor. Still, could be beneficial to join him, bide my time. Get him back for this later.

“After what you’ve seen so far, do you think threatening me is a good idea?”

“You’re caught between a rock and a hard place here. What’s it going to be?”

“Hmph, fine. I’ll work with you.”

Reggie clapped his hands together,

“Fantastic! I love having more friends to play with!”

Adrian shook his head, taking Marcus’ pistol from his holster and tossed it back to its owner. The doctor awkwardly caught the pistol by the slide, dropping it into his holster. The laser disappeared and the group quickly set to work, stripping the two victims of Adrians hunger of their gear before Adrian set to work gutting and chopping the corpses and to small steaks. As he worked, he thought over what he was doing in his head.

Is this what I really wanted? Going on like this, I can never go back. What was the word Alex used for it? Insatiable? Insatiable. There’s no going back now. Maybe if I killed them now? No, the sniper would get me before I could escape. Whatever, this will have to work for now. 

He might not like it, he might want to try to cure himself, but he couldn’t go back now. He was truly beyond saving, insatiable. 

Insatiable Pt. 4










Adrian glanced around the dark woods, panicking. He tossed his now empty rifle aside and sprinted ahead as the voice echoed louder and louder.







He tripped over a loose root and curled into a ball, shaking with fear as the voice surrounded him, echoing through his mind




Adrian jolted awake, the early morning light fluttered through the window, illuminating his now flush face. He wiped sweat from his forehead as he sat up and looked around the room. He was on the second floor of a small house in the wilderness of Chernarus, hiding himself away from the rest of the world, alone with his demon. He leaned back against the wall and stared at the pile of meat resting on a blood soaked table. The previous day's harvest would last him a month, enough to keep the monster satisfied. Sitting next to the table was a 6-shooter revolver with its cylinder hanging loose and a speed loader with 5 rounds. Leaning next to the table was his AUG, along with his locket hanging from the barrel, open. He quietly stared at the picture inside, a tear fell as he quietly stood and closed the locket, the memory of his past too painful to recall. He hung the locket around his neck and slung his rifle as he descended the staircase and stepped out into the early morning sun. He ran his fingers through his matted hair and looked around him. Little had disturbed the quiet woods around the home he was staying in. He could hear nearby the sound of infected idly roaming, the sound of squirrels scurrying through the trees, birds tweeting care free. He almost swore he heard the crippled movements of a long dead friend behind him…

If only

He thought quietly to himself as his left hand twitched, snapping him back to reality. He had been staying in the woods for months, hiding from the men who helped feed his addiction. He sighed and shook his head as he walked down to a nearby pond. He knelt to wash his hands, cleaning the dried blood from between his fingers and under his nails..


Adrian yelped and fell back, rapidly crawling up the bank. He scrambled to grab his rifle, leaning back and scanning the treeline around him. The few infected to hear his yelp slowly began to make their way towards him. Adrian quickly sighted and began firing. His fear took hold as he rapidly fired round after round into each infected until the rifle clicked and the three bodies hit the floor. Shaking, he dropped the 60-round magazine to the floor and reloaded it. His left hand twitched as he slowly lowered the rifle. He buried his head in his hands, wiping tears from his eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with me…”

He sobbed out, slowly tucking himself into a ball by the pond. He began laughing uncontrollably as tears streaked down his face. He stared up into the sky, laughing hysterically,


He screamed into the sky, throwing his hands out next to him. He struggled for air, feeling the weight of his life crashing down on him. He rolled over to his feet, leaving his rifle on the ground as he trudged up the hill to the house and back up the stairs. He grabbed the revolver off the table and loaded the speed loader. He spun the cylinder and pressed the revolver to his head,

“This is what I think of your sick plan you fuck.”

Adrian closed his eyes and saw the woman in the locket staring back at him. He smiled thinly and squeezed the trigger


Adrian dropped the gun to the floor.

“Six shots...that’s all you get.”

His old words echoed through the back of his mind. He dropped to the floor, curling up in a sobbing ball, leaning his head against the wall. One word echoed through his mind





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