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About D_Hal

  • Birthday October 27

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  1. Erik usually kept to himself, living in a small cabin by the woods near Olsha – he learned during the last years that small, secluded places attracted less infected, and they weren’t as sought after by bandits as well, making Olsha a relatively safe and preserved town. His place wasn’t very fancy, but he made sure to make it warm and cozy and stock whatever was necessary for survival. The only luxuries he allowed himself to have were some old books and a couple of bottles of liquor; the last, saved for colder or more stressful days. Supplies from the old days became rarer to find with each passing day, increasing the need for longer and longer journeys into nearby cities. so Erik tried to make these trips more sparse, to minimize risk. Every time he decided to leave for a search made him anxious, with a dry mouth and sweaty palms. Before each trip, he would ritually sit at the table to check and reload the handgun over and over again before putting it inside his jacket, examine the edge of the small knife, and make a quick prayer, sometimes wondering if anyone was really listening. Then he would stretch, drink a small sip of liquor, pick up his backpack and exit, vapor leaving from his breath due to the cold. Today was no different. His stock of food was running low, and he wanted to see if he could find some cans of bacon or beans – finding any of those would ensure a true banquet, and it has been a while since he had any of those. Even though he hated to search more populated cities, since it aggregates a much higher risk, he absolutely needed more ammunition and alcohol – things you almost can’t find these days in smaller towns. He had to go to Svetlojarsk. The rewards were well worth the risk. -------------------------- “Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the hell was I thinking coming here?” Those words kept repeating themselves in a loop inside the man’s mind, while he ran for his life on the streets of Svetlojarsk. He was chased by three hungry infected, each more decrepit than the other. His shirt had huge bloodstains near his neck, and many minor scratches were evident on his face and arms. Erik’s face was livid with fear, but his movements were fast and efficient – years of encounters with the infected would teach him to be nimble. Using fences and trashcans as obstacles for his pursuers, he kept increasing the distance between them, while thinking desperately of a way to escape from certain death. It all had happened because of a lapse of attention. Erik blamed his state of satisfaction after finding a full – and sealed – bottle of bourbon, golden label, clearly saved for a special occasion, inside a small house near the docks. After staring at it mesmerized for a couple of moments, holding it in his hands, he opened it reverently and smelled the wooden scent that emanated from the bottle of whiskey. Smiling like a mischievous child, he saved it in his backpack, and opened the door of the old house he was in, to continue his search. What he would too late realize was that the hinges of the door were in terrible shape, deteriorated by the time and weather. Pulling the knob, he just had time to evade from the falling wooden structure, that would loudly be destroyed after contact with the floor. The noise immediately attracted the attention of nearby infected, which immediatly began sprinting towards the now startled man. He managed to evade the first attack of the closest pursuer, and started to flee to the east, but was injured in his way by the claws of a woman with signs of advanced putrefaction. Despite his small injuries, he manage to sidestep her second attack, and regained his momentum to continue running. Noticing his imminent escape, she lunged towards Erik, grabbing his backpack and scratching his neck. Thinking quickly, he managed to get rid of his jacket and backpack, making his attacker fall on the road with his gear on her grasp. While sprinting, his mind was desperately evaluating possible escape routes, most of them unlikely to succeed. His best chance of survival would be to lose his pursuers in the forest between Svetlojarsk and Berezhki. Luckily, he knew that region very well by now, and though they were fast, his pursuers weren’t very smart. After 20 minutes of running between trees and climbing among the rocks, he managed to find a crevice in a large rock near the coast. He would stay there for what would seem an eternity and hope he was no longer being followed. The sun went down and the stars were starting to timidly show up in the sky when he left his hiding place. The echo of gunshots probably caught the attention of the infected during the chase, since he couldn’t hear or see anyone nearby. Walking towards the coast, he would finally have time to breathe and assess his current situation, he thought. He didn’t realize before how cold it was. Sitting down by the rocks on the coast, looking to the horizon, Erik’s arms were crossed, and he was visibly shaking. He was freezing and thirsty. All that sprinting had taken its toll, after all, making him sweat and dehydrate. His jacket and his supplies were all gone, including food and drink. The weapons he had were in his jacket, so he had no way to defend himself. Also, night was approaching, and he would need to find shelter soon if he were to survive. These thoughts made his eyes sadly wander to the distant sea. He sighed, lamenting the loss of the bottle of whiskey. “My only hope is to head to Berezhki, now”. A place he avoided for years.
  2. A cold but clear afternoon. The sun bathed the yellow leaves of one of the trees beneath which two people were engaged in their wedding vows. Both couldn't help but smile. Happiness bursting from their chests, obvious to anyone who witnessed the ceremony. Their eyes fixed on each other. “I do”, she says, with a wide smile. The man is sitting at a table. Studying the months’ budget, with bills over the table, he looks very concentrated on his notes. “We’ll be fine, Mila.” He turns his face to the worried expression on his wife. “I know you don’t like the idea of moving to Novodmitrovsk, but if I accept this new job, we will be fine. Look, there is even huge lake not far away from the city where we can spend our weekends...” They are riding bikes through gravel roads, heading to Berezhki to enjoy the view of the coast. The wind moving Mila’s hair while she smiled made every dull moment at the office seem worth it. Lost in thought, he realized life was good: money was not a huge problem anymore, they were thinking about kids… he would open that bottle of wine he was saving, when they returned home. ------------- Erik woke up to the sound of distant gunshots. His sleep was restless, as usual, with memories of a life long lost. “It’s been years… and still it never seems real to wake up in this fucked up world. I… don’t think I’ll ever get used to it”, he thinks. As he gets up, he looks at the wall he leaned against to rest – scratches and dried blood covers most of the room. Just like almost every house. How many lives were lost since it all started? He heads towards the bathroom and looks at the mirror. The mirror showed a 34 years old man wearing glasses, with a tired expression on his face. Before the outbreak, Erik used to work analysing data at Novodmitrovsk hospital – nothing very exciting, really. He remembers dreaming of doing anything else, but it payed well, and jobs were high valued in a country that were in civil conflict just five years before. When news of the outbreak started to appear, he and Mila became terrified. The radio explained the situation of Zelenogorsk, and people in Novodmitrovsk knew what was happening. The lives everyone were slowly building were about to crumble, and they could feel that. People began buying whatever supplies they could, and when they started to become scarce, the robberies and violence began. After a couple of days of hiding in fear and despair at home, it was Mila who suggested they packed whatever they could and headed to Berezhki – few people lived there, and it seemed like a place less likely to see that level of violence. Trying to drive their thoughts away from what was happening, they began to walk towards the coast, speaking of plans for the future and general amenities. An abandoned house next to the sea was the perfect place to stay for that moment. It was only a week after arriving that the symptoms started. Mila started coughing and complained of muscle pain as they woke up. Erik tried to keep a calm attitude, and made every effort to assure her (and himself) that it was just a minor flu, and nothing else. As hours passed and Mila’s condition worsened, it became clear that it happened – she was infected. “It hurts, Erik… It hurts so much...”, she cried, blood dripping from her nose. “Calm down, baby. We will get you better. I’ll go to Novo and find a doctor for you there… You will be fine...”, he replied in desperation. “You know that’s not true”, she smiled briefly, trying to console him, “There is no time… please stay these last hours with me...”. Erik hugged her, and they spent the afternoon recalling good memories from the time they shared as a couple. As night came, Mila was pale, had difficulty breathing and could barely speak. He grew desperate, hopelessly trying to think of anything he could do to help her. He had previously looked around the now abandoned houses, trying to find any medicine at all, to no avail. She looked at him with caring and pleading eyes, and asked him to get close. “There is only one way you can help me, my love...” -------------- After breakfast, that consisted of water and berries found near the last village he visited, he headed out of the house. Erik sighed deeply, and reloaded his handgun – it was likely to find more infected along the way. His steps were heavy, and the rainy weather didn’t help. It would take hours to get to the next city, but he needed to find more supplies. Erik never considered himself brave - far from it; but he had a promise to keep. “Live for both of us.”
  3. Good evening, everyone! I'm D_Hal, and I just wanted to introduce myself to the community. It's a real pleasure to be here! *lifts glass of beer from the table* - Cheers!