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Why did it have to be "Lefty?" (Feedback appreciated)

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Name: Lieutenant Dave Augustus

Age: 25... least, if the days are calculated correctly.

My backstory is nothing special. Least, once that day came, it seems any backstory I've run into with the people in the forsaken wasteland seems to be the same. All that changes is the pretense, the prologue to the reality we live in; the only day that matters to anyone still breathing today.

To start, what can I say, I was born an only child to a family of fairly wealthy bankers in the West. When I was four, the circumstances of Chernogorsk's rising sea trade, therefore rising potential loans, made the city our home from then on. I went to the local school system like any good old boy, catching an interest in history early on, specifically military history. The battles of Hannibal, the conquests of Napoleon, the concept of a world war. All of this fascinated me, so I continued my studies leading in that direction. I spent my days studying their moves, their tactics. I played chess and other board games to focus my strategy. I wanted to be them. When I became old enough to enlist, my parents hesitently gave me their approval to go and become an officer in the Chernarus military; it wasn't that they disapproved of the idea of throwing my life away in the military, moreso that they had hoped I would take the more esteemed route and go off to college to take over their business. Once I had mentioned that the military academy had such courses as well as the prospect of a good rank being good for business, they had no real counterargument.

I enlisted and immediately was bunked with the loveable idiot, Thorn. The man was interesting to say the least. We were bunkmates in boot camp and the first day, he called me "Lefty." Was I left handed? No. Was I left eye dominant? No, least eye tests on the shooting range said I wasn't. So... why Lefty? Truth be told, I don't even think Thorn himself had a reason other than humble mischief; my response was simply to give him the nickname "Captain" and let our names be changed amongst ourselves. The man was an innocent soul, following his dream of taking to the skies and seeing the world as a bird would. That coupled with his good heart and friendly nature meant that we were destined to ride out of camp as good friends, maybe even the best of friends. I was the best man at his wedding after all, so the word "best" can't even be stretched at this point. I remember giving my speech, hoping him and Cherry would live out this future the happiest of couples, embracing the world as a joined effort.

However, it wasn't long soon after the wedding that the day came. After coming back to base after visiting my parents, the bus we rode was overcome by pedestrians. Or at least, the most rabid, inhuman pedestrians we had witnessed. Half the crew was wiped out before we even knew what was happening. After fighting back the creatures, chaos ensued as rumors of the undead circled our squad. My best attempts at rallying them failed, as each ran off in whatever direction they could, screaming about finding their loved ones or protecting their family. While my best logic tried to debunk their proclamations yet there was a fleeting fear that set me off back home just in case. I followed the road back to Chernogorsk, finding the city in ruin. Fires started to pop up, shots fired rapidly before dying out. My brain nearly fractured from the thought, my heart overcycled through blood as each beat pounded in my chest, neck and temples. I ran down to the waters edge, trying to find any sign of life. Instead, I found my parents house with the windows smashed in. I thought I had time, but when I arrived I only found their corpses riddled with bullets and anything of value taken. No zombie or whatever had taken them, humanity, in it's impotent panic, had. A week later I had found Captain, his newlywed taken in similar fashion. We both decided to set out together, our bond serving to protect in this new world.

So now, a new history has begun. Einstein said he didn't know what World War III would be fought with, but he knew that the fourth would be fought with sticks and stones. Oh, how he would be surprised to learn what the third one would be fought with, who it's combatants were. Humanity clings on to survival... yet also eats itself as an ouroburos would, hoping to save itself by sacrificing itself. Captain and I will be the beacon to lead humanity past this menace, if his trust for it hasn't already been shattered that is.

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Nice story! I especially liked the opening paragraph. It pushes that idea that it doesn't matter who you were, it matters more about who you've become.

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