2018-06-09: Prologue Let me share a little information about my self: I was born in Sweden 16th of August 1999. I am Valex Solomon, named after the two I cherished, Valex and Solomon. It wasn't my birth name nor an alias chosen by my parents. It is an identity I've chosen to live with since the escape. They were people who I cherish and look up to, but I'll get to that part later. You see, I am and always have been an outcast ever since I was a kid. I grew up in a family of four consisting of my mother, father and my younger brother. I never cared much for my parents due to their behaviour against me. Both father and mother were substance addicts and alcoholics so it shouldn't come as a surprise that there was a whole lot of abuse involved. They never really did anything towards me physically but mentally, which can be as destructive. Compared to my younger brother who was adored, I was seen as a failure and of course, he was treated as the perfect son. If I should be really honest, I didn't even know if my parents considered me to be their own child or not. 6 years ago at the age of 13, the point where I was growing closer to the point I could think for my self. It became obvious that I started to become more and more of an anarchist playing the role as a rebel, especially at school. I didn't listen to anyone and my behaviour was turning the majority of people against me. My parent's abuse kept getting worse by the minute, most of which was due to the calls they received from the school pouring on non-stop. With all the hatred and frustration that was piling up was soon to pass beyond the limit as the real shit hit the fan when I lost it completely in school. It was Thursday, 12:th of March 2015. I was minding my business smoking a cancer stick outside of the school when a group of other teens rounded me up. They told me the usual bullcrap about being done with my shitty attitude and I, of course, told them to fuck off. They laughed menacingly at my response whilst continuing their attempt to scare me like they've tried countless of times before, but I was wrong this time of course. There were swings of punches coming from every direction, not stopping till I went unconscious. When I Woke up it was dark and cold where the sound of laughter came from what seemed to be outside of something. Soon there was a strong smell of smoke that struck me. At the time I didn't realize what was going on until it was nearly too late. The fuckers tried to burn me alive inside an empty shed. Of course, as I am writing this today I did get out of there. It took time an effort but I managed to launch my self through one of the weakened burning walls. I came home that day smelling like shit with burn damages on my body but as a healthy caring family, they only gave me shit for making the house smell. The next day was ironically Friday the 13, the same day I slaughtered 7 people. With my careless dad, it wasn't hard to get a hold of his handgun which I used against my family, including my younger brother. I burned my birth certificate to erase the idea of still being a part of that forsaken family. I took my dad's old Harley Davidson and left home for the very last time. After arriving I hid the bike out of visual reach from the school so they wouldn't describe what I was fleeing with to the police. I entered the school where I faced those brats with a straightened back. They were obviously surprised to see me and still in one piece. I still remember the look of pure terror and their pathetic beseech for mercy when I revealed my little toy to them. I was amused by this, for who can forbear to laugh at their beliefs of having a meaningful life? There were somewhat of a plan after I'd done my job. I really had no other option for survival at that point, last case scenario being plan B that was to kiss the gun and pull the trigger. I had a "friend" named Lexer, private details aside, who I consider my true family. He was the only one I knew who I trusted completely, the only one I could be around with my guard down. He knew my story and denounced law and order as much as me with a similar reason to it, although not slaughtering civilians in cold blood that is. Long story short he lives at a foster home. We both knew that if I stayed put after the rampage I was done for, but of course being the idiot Lexer is he told me in advance that he'd already called his brother, Solomon, who lived in Chernarus. Solomon agreed to take us there, immigrating us illegally, to live with him. I knew how much he talks about his brother which says a lot about how much they mean to each other. I ran outside towards the motorcycle where Lexer already was waiting. I drove fast but discreetly enough so that the speed wasn't much of a big risk to face the police. The runway where Solomon was supposed to land wasn't very far away from where we were located so it only took about 20 minutes or so to get there. Friday the 13th of March 2015:12:XX AM-(UTC +1) was the date I left the Swedish soil for the first and last time. I was scared but I wasn't alone. I had Lexer and his brother, they were my true family. We had succeeded our escape from Sweden and was now heading to Chernarus, South Zagoria. 6 hours of flight 2500km away from what was to become a nothing more than a memory of the past. 07:XX PM (UTC +2) was the time of landing and the start of a new life in another country and a new home. End of the prologue. Juli 2017: The day of the outbreak. 2 years after the escape. I was 18 when it all went down to hell, or rather when hell climbed up to the surface. Me and Valex were lying on the sofa watching TV when the news was brought up. At the time I was still unable to understand Russian so I understood nothing of it neither did lex. Solomon explained that there was some commotion about a disease infecting people, but because we as in a rather isolated environment he told us not to worry, so we shrugged it off as it was nothing. Living far away from civilization where the nearest town was Gorka, 1.4km away has its disadvantages such as TV signals being disrupted by the many trees, not to mention the long ass walk to the nearest pub. Instead of going to the store we got our food through hunting and growing it our selves, the way most others live in Southern Zagoria. We didn't really leave our territory very often but when we did it was usually when the ammunition was running low. The days went on until one day. I was out hunting where I spotted hog, but looking through my scope I saw what appeared to be a human in combat fatigue, squatting. He turned back for a moment and I caught a glimpse of his face. It was horrifying. The lips on his face had been ripped off, looking closer I saw his left arm that was gashed up to the point you could see bone. I became curious at first, wanting to know what had happened to him, so I moved up a bit closer. He was clearly doing something by the way he was moving but I couldn't really get the right angle to see exactly what was going on. That is until I moved to the bit to the right. Another soldier, torn open and the wounded standing above him was eating him! I was so shocked that I jumped back head first into a tree bumping my head badly causing a fierce headache. I moved my hands to my head as a response to the pain, sitting in a fetal position. Looking up I saw the wounded soldier moving towards me exposing his stomach. It was open and you could see the intestines that were barely hanging on to his insides. I didn't know what to do, I was paralyzed out of fear. How in the hell could he be alive?! He should be dead! Reality snapped back at me and I grabbed my rifle, I didn't care how he was alive but this was my territory, and it is not for some wicked cannibalistic sacrifice ceremony. I aimed to where his heart was located, shooting him twice in the chest. It did nothing more than making him stumble on his feet. The man lunged at me and with a swift motion sunk his teeth into my arm ripping out a chunk of my meat. The maximum of adrenaline had peaked its limit at this point and I was in a complete feral mode. I grabbed the soldier by the helmet, forcing him off of me. I stepped over him stomping his face in till there was nothing but a bloody mess. I ripped off my shirt, tearing it to bits so I could craft a makeshift dressing for my wounded arm. I tried to make it back to the house as fast as I possibly could even when weakened by the blood loss. As I made my way back I started to hear faint but rapid shots coming from the distance. Soon enough I found out where the source of it came from. I saw Valex and Solomon fending off a mass of people, shooting them multiple times but did little to no effect. There must have been 7 or 8 of them. It never matters if they were civilians or not, they were out after my family and I wasn't going to let them. I went into a prone position but my wounded arm wasn't easy. I was shaking which made me unsure of my chance to get an exact hit. My terrible aim only managed to strike down 3 of them with the remaining 5 was still standing. I tried again and again but it was getting too difficult to hold a steady aim properly. I started getting dizzy and feeling nauseous. I nearly passed out, but then I hear Valex shout my name. The sound of his voice filled me with energy. I wasn't done yet. Too enraged to care about the pain I quickly ran for the house. I dropped my rifle as it was slowing me down, using my .357 hunting revolver instead. I stumbled my way into the house, shooting down the remaining cannibalistic fuckers. The sight of that place reminded me of the slaughtering of my family. Blood stained walls, bits of brains and dead corpses. I screamed Valexs' name with all the energy I could let out. I heard a faint grunt coming from the corner of the room. As I went over there I saw Solomons mutilated body. He was dead for sure, but still, there was movement coming from his body, no, behind it. Giving a closer look at the body I noticed something behind it. It was Valex, lying under Solomons body. Tears filled my eyes as I moved the corpse away from him. He was barely clinging to life. His leg had been chewed up badly, exposing bone from underneath his flesh. I fell to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Valex moved his hand to my face where his cold hand touch my cheek. He wasn't crying, nor was he showing any sign of pain. He gave me a smile, sharing one last kiss. His hand relaxed, falling to the floor as he exhaled his last breath. Here I am. In a cold dark world where humanity is no longer the dominating species. Where the dead has risen from the depths of hell hungry and eager to feast on the warm flesh of the living. The name I chose was to represent the family I've lost. For Valex. The one who saved me from melancholy and forlorn, he who gave me a reason to fight. He who showed me true affection. For Solomon, the brother of the man I loved, and for his noble attempt to save Valex from death by sacrificing himself.