Who was I before this apocalypse? I wish I could say I was Ex-special forces. or a valiant American Navy Seal you hear so many badass stories about, but I was just a Ukrainian lumberjack living with my wife and daughter in this peaceful shit hole, more commonly called Chernarus. Thinking back on it, it seems like quite a paradise compared to what it is today. The fresh wind that didn't smell of rotting flesh, the cities that were filled with slightly less dead people, though you couldn't tell the difference by smell alone. I am getting lost in memories now. Let's talk about where I was when I had my first encounter with these fucking things.
It was a cold day, well every day here is fucking cold, but it was much colder than usual. I was outside chopping logs in preparation for the winter season. My wife was in bed again. She hadn't felt well for the past couple of days after coming back from a grocery run, and my daughter was preparing some food for her, though she had lost her appetite completely after the first day she fell ill. I wasn't too worried though, she had weathered worse. Heh even a doctor once told her she had the heart of an ox. I should have been worried though, what with all those reports over the radio of some rapidly spreading sickness. Though, hindsight is only 20/20.
Later that day, as I was just finishing up my last batch of logs I heard a blood curdling scream eerily akin to my daughter's voice. I bolted straight for my house, nearly tripping onto my axe blade while running through the door and was greeted by a sight still burned into my mind. I froze, staring at the blood glistening off of nearly every surface in the living room. Against my better judgement I made my way to my bedroom expecting to be greeted by a boar or bear that broke in to the house. What I was was worse than anything I could have ever imagined.
I stood there in the doorway, staring in what I can only describe as a mix of nausea and terror as my wife was on top of my daughter. She looked up, blood and what appeared to be pieces of his neck were dripping from her mouth. "Why!" I screamed, and before I could even think of dropping to me knees she was lunging for my neck. In a flash of natural reaction, I had the axe embedded six inches into her skull. She dropped like a log freshly split. Half her head disagreeing with the other half on which direction to fall. Before I had time to mourn, my daughter was on her feet, blood pouring from her neck. I looked up and in an instant she was on top of me, her hands repeatedly thrashing for my face. Just as I felt her mouth close on my neck I heard a deafening bang and her body went limp against me. I looked up at two figures looking back down at me. "Yer lucky we got here when we did or you'd have a hole in your head to match." I got up, kept as much composure as possible and ask "What the fuck is going on, and who are you?" After a brief pause one of them piped up "Instead of goin by first names, we just call each other nicknames to keep emotions out of it so I'm Cruton and this is Pepaw." I looked down, grabbed my axe and in that moment said "Well fuck it, just call me axe."