It was a sunny day in the early part of summer. My gun rested upon the windowsill as I did my part to keep watch for the enemy. A warm breeze caressed my face and I could tell that today would be a good day. But there was something odd about it... something smelled odd in the air today.

Flowers! I could smell the flowers rising up from their resting place under the ground. It was as beautiful as when I saw the brown grass start to turn green again around this forested fortress. It was a nice building, yes, but made better by the surroundings.

After the initial onslaught, what friends and family I had that were still alive went to Ah-Gwah-Ching. Ah-Gwah-Ching started out as a tuberculosis treatment facility which was turned into a psychiatric nursing home which housed around a hundred people, notably sex offenders and murderers. Suffice to say, the Resistance, which is what we call ourselves, made sure to eliminate their threat when we took over.

Bodies scattered the surrounding forest, but they were thick in the clearings where we could shoot better. We have no ammo to waste, less food to eat, and no sanity to spare. We not only have our enemy to fear, but we have ourselves to fear too.


The world ended three months ago, and I fear we are the only ones left alive.

Dear Diary,

Your ears are my wrists, and my words are the knife; let me sing you a song so I can end my life.

We're all worn out here. We've been fighting for countless months against friends, family, and our own countrymen. At this time of day, all the trees look like Death, her looming scythe ready to quietly rip your soul from your body. There's stories, I've heard, that she has an hourglass in her hand. Once the last grain of sand hits the rest at the bottom, you'll die. The validity of this is questionable when you take into account the fact that the dead are, at the moment, stumbling towards us.

This campaign has driven far too many to madness. We've had too many suicides; too many moments of despair. I've had it too. At first, we were all fresh and excited, but our first kills brought on the horror. Now that we've been killing for a while, nobody appears to mind, but like me, I know they suffer inside.

It's terrible, but it's all I can do to know that I'm still human.

Now that everything's gone and there's no one left to care, the only thing left is a question: Was it really worth it?

I'm liking the concept here. Just make it all longer; I don't want to wait for two days only to find three paragraphs.

Hopefully you can give me a nice alternative to the countless air combat stories here .

Hopefully. Those were actually written while I was in an absolutely horrid mood and busy to boot. But yeah, I'll make it longer once I've got time. Thank you!

Then I look forqard to your writing while you're in a good mood