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My DayZ Short

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My name is Thomas Parker, I am a 29 year old Journalist from a northern town in England called Barnsley. I write this now not in the hope to report it to the world but in the hope that the world does not forget what it used to be.

Five months ago my wife and youngest son died in a terrible car accident. I tried to solve it with two things: Drink and Work. It did not help. I work for a local newspaper in my area called the gazette. Or I should say I worked. (I don't know if it exists anymore.) I came to Chernarus in October in the hope to follow up on some reports of what was being called a rabies outbreak. I find myself stuck here now, cold and alone. This my story of what has happened in this hell hole.

October 11th 2014 I discovery the story: I heard a story of some people being attacked in Chernarus. It was a place I had never heard of and this alone sparked my interest. I researched for an hour or so and as it appeared some people were attacked and it was being called "the rabies incident." Now rabies not being what people saw as big news, not with Ebola on the rise in West Africa made me think no one would be reporting on this except foreign journalists.

I took what reports I had and took them to my boss. Chris Johnson, a big man in both stature and personality. I did not often bother him at work. I came in, got my work done and went home.

"Chris." I said walking into his office. He looked up at me from behind his apple laptop. I always did wonder why he insisted on using one of those things.

"Chris, here are some reports of a rabies incident in Chernarus." I told him laying down my file in front of him. He looked over them briefly and handed them back. "

Tom." he said."Go. This is just what you need. Take a few weeks out there, get the scoop, relax and then head back." I always thought he had felt bad for what had happened to Jess and Matthew. I grabbed the papers thanked him for his help and started out of his office.

October 13th 2014: I arrive in Chernarus. The airport was very small. I wasn't in there long. Every one was looking nervous. I don't know how but they seemed to be rushing for no reason. I grabbed my bags and caught a bus south. I was stopping in a city called Chernogorsk.

I caught a bus and it must have been the last on of the night. There was no sign of the sun anywhere. Darkness engulfed the little bus and tall pine trees loomed over the roads. I arrived at my hotel at around 1 am on the 14th. I checked in and headed for bed. There is no way to describe the feeling of being in a country which uses the Cyrillic alphabet. The signs almost lure you in with a familiarity and then confuse you with alien symbols. I was so alone in this country.

October 14th - October 20th 2014: My research period: Most days I wondered the unfamiliar industrial mammoth of a city making notes on minor things like urban decay and architecture. I ask a few locals for information on the stories of the attacks in the country but most could not understand me. The few who could seemed to be the town crazies. Speaking only of the Apocalypse and judgement day looming. In hindsight I may the crazy on for not listening. Most of the time I doodled to make them think I was taking notes on their psychotic rants.

October the 21st 2014: I awoke to the noise. I was woken up in the early hours of the morning on Tuesday morning to the sound of chaos. I forced myself out of bed and looked through my window to see people on the streets scurrying around like ants. In the distant darkness there were fires dotted around on the horizon. I searched my mind to explain what was happening but I could not.

I got dressed, grabbed my not book and rushed to the lobby. A few terrified staff stood with their backs against the walls of the lobby a few clinging to each other. On the other side of the glass people clawed and banged with fury I have never seen. There was blood all over them on on the streets people were dragging each other to the ground and biting them. As absurd as it may sound they were eating them. This was not rabies. Before the glass gave way a bobby attendant shouted out and set off running towards a door on my left. I could not understand him but from his tone I knew he wanted us to follow him. Without a second thought I raced after him through the thin cream corridors until we reached a fire exit. The man ran through the door as it was not there. I followed him through the ever winding streets of the behemoth city and we ran into a field and uphill until we reached the woods. He carried on where I stopped. I could not go in there. I had nothing on me. I needed to head back for my things, phone, wallet, I had nothing but my not book. On the other hand I could no go into the city until I knew what was happening. I sat against a tree until the sun arose and I could see the city. A haunting silence hung in the air that morning.

Saturday 17th of January 2015: I am not alone. There are others who survived. I have not had the time or concentration to keep note. I met a group around a month ago who told me there was nothing left. The odd houses I had come across walking blindly were empty and my mind is riddled with doubt. I have gathered what food and maps I can and I head now for a large military airfield in to the north west. I have to find a way out. I need to get home. I write this now not in the hope to report it to the world but in the hope that the world does not forget what it used to be.


Thanks for reading guys, give me some feedback if you would.

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