After retiring from the military and the recent passing of my parents i became bored of sitting around the house all day with nothing to do and the only conversation i had from people were mainly along the lines of “How many people did you kill”. I decided to move house and even countries just to get away I moved to a town, just north of the Chernarus/Russian border. It was small, quiet and out of the way. I struggled at first with the diverse language and trying to get back living life as a civilian but after spending about four months speaking to locals i managed to pick up basic Russian words. As soon as life started to settle news came from passing locals about a outbreak in the region of Chernarus. In the town I was in, it was quiet for months. That is until the border patrol collapsed that was containing the infection. Everything was in panic, I grabbed my belongings and fled. I was lost in the wilderness for weeks, daring to do battle with one of the infected every so often. Along my travels I witnessed horrors that i had never experienced before with neighbour attacking neighbour for just the simple scrap of food. And then there was a day that i would never forget. Whilst i was traveling down narrow road i came across a large group of men dragging a couple from their car and attacking them like wild animals, tearing at their clothes and emptying them of all their possessions. Frozen, frightened, fearful. Despite having my military experience i still couldn’t shoot or stop them. I was scared fearing for my own safety. There was just too many of them. With this event on my mind i wandered around for months ducking in and out of bushes, unable to speak and that was until i finally hit Chernarus.