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The Stories of Chernarus

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Ivan Haček



Part 1

Many an adventurer had their stories, from treacherous journeys in far beyond, to their difficult lives back home. They’ve been through a lot in their lives, now it’s my turn. Well, let me tell you my story.

I was born on the tiny island of Skalisty in a warm summer on June 14th of 1983, to my poor family of fishermen. We’ve had many stories of our ancestors, including how I have noble blood as my great-great-great-grandfather was said to be a noble in the House of Kozub. Of course, when the Bolsheviks won the revolution, nobility didn’t matter anymore. There’s also another one that my uncle’s father fought for the White army that supported Chernarussian independence, and even ‘till today I look up to the hero.

I grew up in the Chernarussian SSR as a child, educated by my neighbor who was the local teacher of Skalisty Island. The government had declared the island a wildlife preserve, and I could see that because there’s some quite exotic species of birds here. Because of that, our island was considered a remote region of the USSR, and it wasn’t enforced very well. My teacher was secretly a nationalist who didn’t like being ruled over by the Russians, and it was reflected in how he taught me about Chernarussian history. He said that the Russkies were ungrateful bastards who thought they could do anything they wanted to the people they ruled over. I knew for a fact that if the KGB found out, he’d be tortured in camp by now… That was certainly an example of how he was right.

When Chernarus declared its independence in 1991, we rejoiced, and sang and danced because we were finally free. My younger siblings wouldn’t understand (they were very young at the time), but they joined in anyways because they thought it was fun. But the Russian settlers on the mainland weren’t too happy about that… They figured that the government would encroach on their rights. But instead of going back home to the newly-formed Russian Federation, a third of the ungrateful bastards decided to stay in our country anyways! But I think I should cut them some slack; maybe they think this is a beautiful country as well, that’s why they want to stay?

I lived my existence through fishing for fresh fish with a small group of neighbors in the untouched seas of Skalisty, which I sold to the store in Elektrozavodsk. I don’t understand why it’s so popular… They say it’s because it’s “Organic”. Are they telling me that there’s fish that’s a little unnatural? Not sure how that’s even possible… All was fine and well, even in the ethnic strife of 1995-2000. The National Party (NAPA) was formed at that time, and being a strong nationalist myself, I was eager to join. But I didn’t want any trouble, so I never joined in any of the battles that the more militant wing of NAPA was fighting. All of course, until the Fall of 2009.

My brother and sister Jarkovec and Alena were on a trip to see a band play in Berezino, but then they were captured by Spetznas and Chedaki working together while they were going home. My brother was tortured in detention camp, and my sister was raped by Chedaki. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to take revenge. I went under the name of Jakub Hošně, changed my voice, and wore my balaclava at all times. I killed many Russkies and Chedaki, and by the end of the war nobody had known who I was.

I was in the southeastern group; we did guerilla operations in Elektrozavodsk. We raided their weapons supplies, and we obliterated the Russkies’ bases. The NAPA fighters were my brothers. I was called “Bastard-pes” (Bastard/Mongrel-dog) by everyone for having a Russian first name (Ivan); I didn’t like it at first, but I soon grew to be okay with it. We felt sorrow whenever one of us died. We shared stories, shared jokes, and we shared victory after victory. Then we drove off those Chedaki and their Russky supporters, and peace was restored to Chernarus.

I continued my regular life after that… Then… It happened. We watched on the news in our small, old TV how there was a new disease spreading throughout Chernarus. My brother Kuřecí (who was 14 years old at the time) said this was just like the zombies he watched in western films. But we figured that being on an isolated island like Skalisty wouldn’t cause much trouble anyways... and besides, most info on the disease was through rumors anyways. I was selling some fish in Elektrozavodsk as usual, but then they had a mandatory vaccination programme. I didn’t have much choice, but I took the vaccine anyways without reluctance. When I went home, I saw everyone was shambling about like they had problems with walking. Their faces seemed rotten. I could smell it. I heard on the news, something about a new disease spreading. I knew my wife had a cold previously, so I thought it was just something minor. Now I feared the worst; the local radio had shot off the siren, but it was too late. Everyone was infected, and I was one of the only ones who survived. But why… why my wife? Why my friends? Why us? No matter, I had got back to my senses, and checked through my provisions. I didn’t bring much, except for everything for this boat. I had to get out of here… I turned on the motor, and I headed off into the horizon. I caught fish, and I hoped to land on the coast, maybe on Utes, or maybe taking refuge in Takistan. I soon became tired, and I fell asleep. I found myself waking up, deserted on a coast in my beached boat. I checked to see if there was any fuel left… no fuel. I wasn’t sure where I was. It was bright as day, and I couldn’t check the stars for where I was. I checked my compass, but it was broken. I had few provisions left. I was lost.

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  • MVP

NAPA brother, why do you not speak to our warriors more often? We would enjoy discussing your Russian name. It would give us reason to share stories over a hot mug of čaj. We could then swap the jokes aimed at us. I too have been mocked due to my British first name.

[[Cool story mate. Look forward to hearing more :)]]

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There I lay, stranded on the beach with my broken boat. It was an old beauty, brought to me by my father since 1979. It was already a bit rusty and a bit leaking, and we used it very much, travelling between Skalisty and the mainland. Now it is a ruin on the coast, beached, and out of fuel. Part of the hull was torn apart from the impact, and there was no way of fixing it, not now at least. But I knew I couldn’t stay here for long if I was to survive. From bits of the boat, I fashioned myself a crude axe. I took a sharp piece of the boat, and some piping, and used what’s left of my fishing net to tie them together. See, back in the NAPA days we were trained on how to improvise, being the Guerrillas we were. Now I was equipped and ready to go on, leaving the boat behind.

It had been nightfall, and I could see the stars now. From their position, I found myself to be west of the provincial capital, Chernogorsk. I knew I needed what supplies I could, and the largest city was perfect for that. As I entered the city’s front gates, it was deserted. I wasn’t alone of course, as I found out that the infection has spread west. It was evening, and I could stealthily slip past through those “zombies”. It seems that the infection has damaged their vision and hearing, because what would be plainly obvious by a regular person was undetected by the infected. By then I had believed I was the only man left on Earth. Everything seemed so desolate and quiet, even with those infected. When I saw a few people wielding firearms, I was sure they were just hallucinations. And in this time of day, it’s hard to distinguish anyways.

By midnight I went into one of the apartments and slept there. It was dark and dreary, and surely I was afraid to death that the creatures would catch scent of me… but I was relatively safe. The next morning I checked the fire station for anything. There were a few fire axes left, and for sure I discarded my crude axe for a proper one. This was a weapon to be feared alright! I rummaged around the city for anything I forgot to find, but it was morning, and those zeds caught scent of me. Luckily I only attracted few of them, and what luck it was! I rounded them up to the supermarket to slaughter them all, and I found my newly found fire axe to be the perfect weapon. It was as sharp as a razor, and it was heavy, but it was practical. I slaughtered all the zombies with the beauty. It had such efficiency in brutal murder, that I called it a name; “Vrah”.

When I checked the store’s stores, I found that much of the shelves were empty! No infected would be able to grasp a can of food like a regular person, or so I thought. This couldn’t have been an animal either, as it was cleanly and orderly emptied. What this was, it was a sign that there are still survivors out there, just like me. I’m not alone.

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