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Jarvis Seistt

A Documentation of Events, by me

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Jarvis Seistt    7


I still do not know why I am writing this in English, I mean, I am Austrian, the UN guys German and…ah, what the hell. I suppose it is some kind of practice. Also, excuse the occasional bad English.

So, before I begin, dear reader, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jarvis Seistt, as you might have noticed neither Jarvis nor Seistt are really Austrian names. ‘Tis not my real name, you must know, I merely “adopted” it. Anyway, I consider myself some sort of a/an writer/author and I shall hereby document my time in the lovely land of Chernarus.

What brings me to Chernarus, you ask? Why did I leave the comfort of my home, you ask? Well, curiosity.

And as you see, I am no cat, so I intend to not be killed.

Day 0 – A Documentation of Events, by me

Sounds dramatic, doesn’t it? Day Zero. Even looks dramatic.

Anyway, today my German soldier friends and I arrived at the UN camp west of Chernogorsk, hope I wrote that right. The commander, some German colonel, Germans everywhere, immediately dragged me into his office, if you can call that an office, and asked me what the hell I was doing here. As far as I can remember I told him something about “showing the world what is going on here in Chernarus” and such things, pretty sure it sounded very fancy. The colonel was pleased and I even got an office as well! Tomorrow I shall start interviewing the locals and the soldiers if possible. Also heard something about European tourists in the camp, I’ll have to find them too.

But it is late now so I will go to bed. Tomorrow seems like a good time to continue this epic epic.

Day 1

Note to self: military beds are as bad as military breakfast.

Day 1 in the camp! My first interviewee, weird word, was an elderly Chernarussian, again, I hope this is the right word, lady. I tried talking to her but apparently the average Chernarussian does not speak ze Englishs, or ze Germans. So a few failed interviews later I stumbled upon a young Chernarussian lady who spoke ze broken Englishs. I should not really mock people, my English is far from perfect after all. Anyway, I had a long talk with her, she came from a village called Lopatino, or something like that, and her parents and her two brothers were brutally murdered by zombies. They tried to escape their home when the zombies attacked but her dad somehow lost the key to the front door so they were trapped. The young lady managed to climb out of a window and was later found by some patrolling UNs. I saw that recalling those memories were painful to her but also she seemed…relieved once she told me what happened. We then just talked for about an hour, practising our Englishs.

After lunch I met a Swiss tourist. Said his hometown was Zürich, whatever it is called in English. Said he was in Berezino, pretty sure I got that right, when the “attack” happened. Said the zambehs just flooded the streets and the local military did not stand any chance. He and the other survivors then went south towards Elektrozavodsk and Chernogorsk. They thought they would be safe there and they were apparently right. They and the UN cruisers arrived on the same day in Chernogorsk. We then continued to talk about how the zombies were able to overwhelm the soldiers and such things.

But it is 22:49 again, time for some sweet, sweet sleep!

Day 5

Note to self: military failures result in even shittier breakfast and more pissed officers.

So I am sitting here, atop the guard tower, watching the growing camp. More survivors, refugees if you will, arrived every day. The camp is huge by now and I also heard that the other camps along the coast have met a similar fate. Also, I have been told that we are running out of resources, food, water and manpower to be specific. A sergeant said that he just executed a rapist and two murders. The refugees are starting to kill themselves and we can only watch. Great.

Also, no interviews today. Too many people, too much violence.

Day 12

They “dismissed” the refugees. They just rolled up with their fancy bulldozer-tanks and ordered them to leave.

Also, they moved the cruisers further away from the coast. I tried to talk to the colonel but he was “very busy”. He certainly was.

I also mailed my reports back to Europe. I cannot wait for their response!

Day 14

Today is the day I wish I stayed in Austria!

Day 0 – A Documentation of rather unfortunate Happenings, by me

Drama, baby, drama.

Yesterday I visited the “dismissed refugees” at their camp in the woods. They were quite happy to see me and asked me to ask the colonel to let them back into camp. …well, I knew the colonel, I knew his answer but I promised those people to do what I could. I spent a few hours with them, we talked, we ate and drank some strange alcoholic liquids. And then I left them. It felt…ah, I do not know, strange? I did not like the idea of just leaving them.

Back at the camp, or what was left of it I found, well, nothing! I am not sure if they left or if they were overrun by zombies but either way. I have no supplies, they were kind enough to leave my stuff at the camp, I am cut off from…anywhere and I am alone. Again I am sitting atop the guard tower while writing this, overlooking the camp. I knew of some UN camps in the west so I decided to go there. Did not have much of a choice anyway. I went back to the refugees but they were gone, as well.

So, here I stand/sit.

Day 3

I hate walking.

I am now sitting atop a guard tower in another abandoned UN camp. Found some weaponry, I think it is called a G3, very handsome rifle.

The situation is bad as far as I can tell. I have not found a single UN guy or anyone. Not even zombies. I keep hearing shots in the distance.

I also noticed that my style of writing changed. I have to do something about this. Cannot let the quality decrease.

Day 0 – A Documentation of Encounters, by me

I have been robbed by a bunch of despicable human beings.

They took my rifle, rifles can be replaced. They took my ammo, ammo can be replaced. They took my…supplies, my everything, my…supplies, my everything can be replaced. They took my notebook…just to humiliate me. If I find them, I will horribly murder them, their families and everyone they ever loved. Or something like that. Maybe I will just throw mean words at them. I do not know.

You might ask yourself, what are you writing on then?

It turns out those painkiller boxes I found were made out of cardboard. And, thank the gods, I can write on…cardboard. I probably should not waste space with those “…” but I am currently sitting in some kind of medical tent. There are loads of painkiller boxes so no need to not write useless words…or dots.

Anyway, the zambehs got me. They beat me up pretty bad. I tried to get some medical supplies from the hospital in Elektrozavodsk, do not ask me how I got there, but the universe hates me so there were no supplies to be found! Joy. Just pure joy. I also met some guys there in the hospital, decided to go with them but I could not make it far in my condition so I left them and headed for Chernogorsk. ‘Twas a funny trip. I kept forgetting how to walk constantly but I reached the hospital eventually and now here I am. Drowning in those precious medical supplies, those blood bags and morphine sticks and all this stuff.

Turns out it is pretty hard to use any of those things if you are half dead. So…I will just take a nap for now. Maybe tomorrow a kind stranger, a knight in shining armour, comes by to save me.

Day 1


I am now at the trade post, or whatever this is, on Klen, the mountain, in a cosy, little tent.

That knight in shining armour did turn up. He patched me up and we then decided to head north. The knight apparently talked to someone from the military who said that there was a camp in the north. A safe haven, an opportunity to leave Chernarus, all this stuff. While we were looting some buildings in Chernogorsk we met three other survivors who joined us in our quest.

We set up a little camp in a forest north of Chernogorsk, one guy left already. He did not really say why though. We talked about who we were, where we came from, what we did before this “zombie apocalypse”. That sounds awful, zombie apocalypse, I will have to find some better term for this…situation. The knight was a cameraman who grew up in Polana, Johnny, the only one whose name I remember, shame on me …I do not seem to be able to recall his story, talking ‘bout shame. The last guy was a mechanic who just woke up. Apparently he did not remember how he got here or what exactly he did before. He only knew he was a mechanic. And me, you already know me!

After that we continued our journey. Stary Sobor was out next target. The knight said he wanted to attend some sort of military academy up there, so we thought there might be a few weapons. Turns out, there were! I found myself an Msomethingsomething with three magazines and some other useful things.

But…Stary Sobor took its toll. Johnny was cornered by zombies. I just heard him crying out…and, yeah. I then decided to keep a list of…all those who died. I did not know Johnny too well but…he must be remembered. Anyone who died in this…zombie apocalypse needs to be remembered. They lived, they fought,…they lost.

We continued, once again. Klen was the target. It was raining. Fog. But no, that was not enough. We got ambushed, by bandits. They took our weapons, our tools, anything they wanted. But they were kind enough to leave us their old guns, without any ammo. No! Wait! They left us two AK magazines, to mock us I suppose. We continued.

Fortuna, you know, roman goddess of luck and fate, was kind. I found myself a M24 sniper rifle with 4 magazines in an abandoned deer stand. Thank you, oblivious hunter! But that was it. A few minutes later we reached that camp on Klen. And no rescue was found there that day. Only a few other survivors, tents, walls, I like walls, and some market stands. We then split up. I crawled into the very tent I am in right know and, Fortuna’s kindness struck again, I found this fancy green notebook! Yeah.

Now sleep. I need some sleep after all…this.

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