Tuesday, October 2, 2012

POST #15: DAY #3791 OF DOSCAPE

Well, I'll try to come up with a basic rough sketch of what went down during the past day.

When I woke up and got to pulling the cart along Richard stopped me. He looked pissed.

"I read what you posted."

"...okay?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"About Terri?"

"About wh..." Then I recognized the name. Terri told me about her brother. He helped survivors get supplies. He travelled in a group. His name was Richard Stone. "...oh..."

"Yeah. Oh."

Thankfully, the tension was cut mercifully short. Damien was keeping a lookout from the covered wagon from binoculars and suddenly he shouted, "There! Grocery store! Only half decimated!"

Richard looked up at Damien, then into the distance where a large two story building was placed, dogflesh packing in around it but not yet taking over the building yet. Large poles that were once most likely light fixtures were now replaced by large columns of dogflesh with two heads facing opposite directions at the top. We headed out towards the area as quickly as possible. The wheels crunched flesh and bone as we moved along the steadily thickening mass of dogflesh. There were some speakers near the top of the building, right outside. 

Damien motioned for Richard and I to stop pulling the cart and get into the store. Kimberly and ... what's his name... are going to keep watch over the cart and begin pulling on it if the flesh starts trying to assimilate the cart. I was given an SMG, of which the cart had a fairly surprising number, and moved out with Damien and Richard into the building.

The walls inside were mostly empty of dogflesh, save a little which was bubbling through cracks in the walls and mewling like newborn puppies. However, blood stained the walls everywhere, and in some places there were impaled dead bodies, maybe 10 in total. Some were fresh, but the majority were black and rotting. We looked around in the grocery store, but aside from some tuna, some juices, some water and some Armour sausages and spam (which are okay when on the road, I guess), there was nothing.

"Psst, new guy. Check the pharmacy for meds. I hope it's not cleaned out." He motioned for me to head over to the back part of the store. I did so, pointing my gun at blind spots, trying my best not to be caught off guard. I finally made it to the pharmaceuticals section. I looked around for medications. I found aspirin medicine  painkillers, antibiotics, and andtidepressents. I also found adhesive bandages, sutures, and syringes. Among these I found a doctor's medical journal, with a strange symbol on the front cover. It had a large vertical line with a smaller, snake-like line overlapping it at points. I tossed it away. When I headed back I saw Damien and Richard motioning for me to follow, but I suddenly heard the sound of toppling cans. Rich and Damien heard it too.

We headed toward the source of the noise. When we got to the center we found an open hole in the floor of the grocery store, dogflesh already bubbling its way through. There was a message below the hole, scrawled in disgustingly brownish red liquid.. "THE PACK SHALL HUNT." We looked at the message for a while, then, thinking to head back before any trouble arose, started to turn back. The minute we did so, a loud, creepy distorted laugh echoed throughout the store, emanating from the intercom itself. It reminded me of something... first, it sounded like the psychotic laugh of a hyena ripping into their prey. Secondly, I could swear I heard that laugh before...

It wasn't until the barbarians ambushed me that I remembered that the laugh was present in the first barbarian ambush, right before the Dogmother emerged and chased me. They were all wielding clubs, bats, and axes this time. No ranged weapons and, thank God, none with vicious dog heads on the ends of them. We drew our weapons and fired on them. They swung at us, but never got close enough to attack with melee weapons. Some drew throwing knives and aimed them at us. Some hit us in painful, yet nonvital spots, like a graze on the shoulder or the arm. Soon, after the rattling of gunfire and the thick, pungent smell of smoke cleared the air, there were no barbarians left alive.

We continued on our way back when the laugh erupted again, causing me to shudder. Then I heard the pounding. It sounded like it was coming from our right, but slowly getting closer...

and closer...

and closer.

We were running out of the store, our bags filled with supplies, our guns empty, as the giant half-human creature burst through the glass sliding panes of the door with a crash. Its inhuman eyes also brought back memories from that encounter. It began to leap towards us, its wild eyes darting towards us, its tongue lobbing saliva wherever it could. It started gurgling, then said, "YOU WON'T ESCAPE, HUMANS." With that, the giant hyena-like beast pulled out a giant club... with spikes made of claws and a large dog head on the end. So much for what I said earlier.

I trained my pistol onto the Hyena Man, as it kept leaping towards us. I knew there was one way to stop it. There were cars in the parking lots still, covered in dogflesh but still there somewhere. If only I could get a precise hit. The underbelly near the exhaust pipe might work, but then again, it's too small.

Thankfully the Hyena Man landed on something that made my job much easier: a sixteen wheeler. I remembered in time that the gas pipe was below the front end of the chassis, so I took careful aim and fired while it was in mid-laugh. The dogflesh exploded in a burst of fire, and a psychotically maddening laugh soon grew large hints of a horrific wail, with a high C harmonic that could shatter glass. We moved on as quickly as possible, Kimberly and Damien taking the shift this time. I had a nasty cut on my arm and was tending to it with one of the sutures.

Rich came over and helped with it. "Hey, nice shooting."

"Yeah. Hey, I'm sorry about not talking about... her..."

"I know. I mean, she gave you some clues as to who I was, but still, idiocy and violence can also help a man survive in the Dogscape." He shot me a humorous  look.

We were on better terms, and I thought the sailing would at least be a little more smooth from this point on. However, when I looked out of the cart, I saw it. The Hyena Man I flame broiled a while ago. It was accompanied by a new creature, what, as opposed to the shadowy silhouette of the Hyena Man, was a bright glow, like a small flame. I stared wide eyed, then turned back to my compatriots in the cart. It's not over. It's not the last I'd see of that laughing freak.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Note From Richard

Hey guys. I'm just going to type in this for a while. The battery doesn't die, I think.

Name's Richard Stone. I made the Caravan to help survivors in the area.

Not that there are many left besides us now. It has been ten years.

I read this guy's last post and found out he thought my name was familiar. Might have to check the rest of his posts too.

Anyways, another reason I'm here is to just say a little about myself. I mean, we have journals, but apparently there are still people who read this.

I was born and raised in Arctic Village, Alaska, somewhere in the middle of the state. I had to survive in the wilderness in a town with very few fellow residents. My sister and I hunted elk for sustenance and helped cut down trees. Her name's Terri, by the way.

When the Dogscape hit I was studying in a college in Minnesota. My sister then got the Dogscape four years after me. I tried to contact her, but I couldn't. So I banded up with three college friends who survived and looked around for a place to camp out. We soon found out you couldn't sleep in the Flesh. Not healthy.

Anyways, we found a wagon that wasn't taken over so we used it to collect things. On the way we found more people who were more than willing to join in. Most of them are dead now. But we had a very good run together. Maybe there's more people out there.

I don't know.

More importantly, I don't care right now.

We need to find a place to stop. We need to find a place to finally rest our feet.

a Richard Stone a

POST #13: DAY 3790 OF DOGSCAPE

Okay, so things are good now. The Dogmother stopped chasing me after about seven hours. Seven. Fucking. Hours -_-. Words cannot describe how fucking tied I am. Well, at least I met new people. That's good.

There's about four people in total. A girl, brunette, blue eyes, about 5'7, and se... er... proportionate... A kid barely older than 16, with a scraggly five o'clock shadow. His hair is a kind of dirty blonde and he reminds me of the hipster type. An old guy, about 55 at yonugest. Thick grey beard, a scar running from his right eye to the left cheek. And finally there was a guy who was about 30, with slicked back black hair and piercing green eyes. They had a large wagon filled with supplies that they were forced to keep in motion at all times by having two people pull the cart. They all had bulging muscles which was, I guess, because of this. There were always two people in the wagon catching up on sleep. Sometimes there's one person in the wagon and another person out scavenging supplies wherever they can find it. The old bearded man and the man with black hair were the ones pulling the wagon when I came up to them.

They couldn't really STOP the wagon, so I came along with them.

The black haried man introduced himself as Richard. His friend in the beard is Damien.

I feel like that name is familiar. I just can't pin it now.

I walked and talked with them, while also taking a third rope, tying it to a beam on the wagon and pulling the wagon with them. It was hard going. I asked them how they could keep this wagon going for so long.

Richard said that they just kept going in shifts, and they didn't stop the wagon for more than five minutes so the Flesh wouldn't take over.

"Wait. What if you had to fight?"

"Well, we still can't stop for more than five minutes at a time. Usually people in the wagon can pull out some of the guns in there. We got everything from AK-47s to RPGs to Colt 45s to... "

"Hey, can I put some of my guns in there, too?"

"You joining up?"

"Does it look like I have a choice?"

He thought about it for a while. He was about to say something when Damien said, "I know that look, Rich'. This ain't gonna be another Michael incident. If he didn't ask to put his shit in the back, then I'd be worried."

"Who was Miachel?"

"Barbarian leader. A very smart one at that. Tried to kill us from the inside. Anyways... yeah, I'll let you on. But you're gonna have to pull your own weight."

So I put my things in the back and got in the back wagon. Damien decided to stay up while Richard and I got in the back. Another guy in the wagon got out and began pulling. A girl, who had black hair and a cowboy hat on, was busy dozing off. She had a pistol in her hand.

I'm busy typing on this laptop right now. I'm trying not to let Richard or the girl, whose name is Kimberly btw, see me typing in this. Well, I have a long day's work ahead of me. We have a lot of dogfruit and non-dog foods as well as weapons, ammunition, water, a filter, sets of clothing, and about 15 journals. Each has a name on it. All except four had the word DECEASED written under them. Oh boy.

Well, I better post this and turn this thing off for now.

G'night.

ROGER, MEMBER OF THE CARAVAN

Friday, September 21, 2012

POST #12: DAY 3789 OF DOGSCAPE POST 2

FUCKITY FUCK STILL RUNNING. I'LL TRY NOT TO DROP THE LAPTOP. OR FALL OFF A CLIFF. JESUS CHRIST.

Okay, so today was supposed to be pretty normal. A couple barbarians, a couple new toys, a chance to sit around and eat some Dogfruit while sleeping. And then there was a laugh. It sounded very loud, like a series of yelps, finally going down to a low giggle. When the laugh echoed, the Dogscape started pulsing.

A pulsing Dogscape is an unhappy Dogscape, and an unhappy Dogscape is deadly at the best of times. So I found it best to put whatever was causing the Dogscape to pulse and kill it before it does any more harm. So I grabbed the repeater with the most ammo and prepared for the worst...

Needless to say, the Dogscape was feeling like it could get even wOHFUCKGIANTPAWGIANTPHUGEDOGTREESJUSTCOLLAPSEDFROMTHETREMOR.

I'm sorry, what was I saying? Oh right. What I was saying was GIANT CLAW NEARLY GORED ME FUCKFUCKRUNNINGRUNNING...

I'm sorry, but a certain giant beast made of dogs is really fucking up my train of thought. Okay, when I got to the source of the laughing I saw the Dogscape start growing a large... almost tumor-like lump. I also noticed, far off, on Dog Head Hill- my name for a giant foothill that is now the upper head of a Siberian Husky- a giant... thing, staring at me. I noticed yellow eyes and black slits even from this far off. It looked like a giant wolf or a coyote.

Then they attacked. Giant men tattooed in black ink and clothed in dog fur. They carried heavy sticks with dog heads on the end, growling menacingly.

Barbarians. Twenty eight of them. One of me. Oh goody...

I pulled out my repeater and shot a few of them instantly. Then they hollered in dog-like yells and raised their sticks in the air in some kind of mad chant. And then they charged.

I took down another three of them with my repeater before I was forced to run. I don't like dangerous humans with weapons. I don't like dangerous humans with weapons that bite even more. So, we played a game of cat and mouse. A thick pile of Doggrass was nearby, so I dove in and ran through the maze. The barbarians who were disoriented were easy targets. However... I kind of tripped. Shut up, there was a huge paw RIGHT THE FUCK THERE... oh never mind.

In any case... the remaining barbarians had me in a circle. One was about to shove the growling, biting stick at my face when we all heard a faint rumble. Another laugh, like the one that brought me to this spot, rose up again, coming from Dog Head Hill... coming from that huge slitted eye thing.

The barbarians had a look of horror emerge on their faces, and they scrambled in all directions.

Didn't know what it was about. Didn't care. Didn't know.

I made it back to the house and collected all my things. I noticed the rumbles getting louder, the shaking getting more violent. I thought I could outrun whatever it was. Then I heard it stop. And then three loud thumps.

I looked out the window. Wish I didn't.

The Dogmother was crawling like a festering baby... a festering baby made of Flesh... out of the Scape itself. It gave two loud barks, then turned its eyeless head towards me...

then it charged...

needless to say, the fact that I have not dropped this, gotten trampled, or made any typographical errors is a miracle in itself... in any case I don't think it's going to catch up to me any tSPRINTING OH GOD ITS SPRINTING. SIGNING OFF NOW. BOOP

Thursday, September 20, 2012

POST #11: DAY 3789 OF DOGSCAPE

It's been a few days hasn't it? Well, Dogscape is as it's always been. A writhing, screaming mass of dog. And this fruit I'm about to eat says hi too...

Well, now it yelped. And now I'm chewing... tangy.

Anyways, it's getting much harder to find hide nor hair of houses around here... I think I'm entering what was once farmland. It's just tall rows of Doggrass, followed by narrow strips of Dogtrees and then the occasional half-assimilated farmhouse.

I'm enjoying myself. For one, since Reptilx, I haven't seen any other BME's besides the Dogscape itself. Which is good. Secondly, I met a couple of survivors today... well... they were more than happy to meet me. With guns. And a baseball bat. And one had a battleaxe. ...where the fuck did he get a battleaxe?

Thankfully I found a shotgun about a day ago.

It only had six shells with it, but they had enough weapons and ammo that I don't have to worry about running out for at least 5 to 6 days.

I found another farmhouse. Had more barbarians. They were sleeping though. All male. All very dead now. More ammo for me.

The barking has become nothing but background noise again. I barely even notice it now.

But I still remember Terri. How she sacrificed herself. How she looked. Who she was. I'm not going to forget her. I'm doing this for her.

...I'm going to eat, get back up, and start walking.

And I'm not going to stop until I hit Oasis.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

POST #10: DAY 3786 OF DOGSCAPE POST 2


Found this. It was so close to the edge of the caves. Poor man who made this. Probably a part of the Dogscape now. My hope's been revitalized. I might be able to live on after all. For Terri. I'm not going to forget Terri. Ever.

This is the transcript:


Transcription:

*Barking of the Dogscape in background*

*Heavy, gasping breaths throughout*

*Stutters* Log Number --- 571 --- experiment proved successful --- however, I have been taken by natives --- I have determined that there are a very small number of "sweet spots", around the 'Scape --- *inaudible* some of them belong to... other... creatures --- other... Bio-Mass Entities, I've decided to call them --- though some might be inhabitable --- even --- livable --- it's a crapshoot, really --- I can't speak anymore --- I've had a --- large fight ---- I don't --- almost on the edge of death --- *inaudible* it will feel weird --- becoming the thing you've tried to study --- I've also found out that some scientists have tried *inaudible* working on *inaudible* --- cure --- able to recede the amount of *inaudible* --- I wonder what it feels like when you're being assimilated --- goodbye --- final log --- *gasps*

EDIT: Setting off again. Don't know what fucked up things I'll find, don't know who or what I'll meet. But I'm going to find a "sweet spot". I'm finding Oasis. I might even find a cure.

POST #9: DAY 3786 OF DOGSCAPE

Walking. Walking. Feet hurt. Hungry. Ate food. Ripped off meat from walls. Munched. Munched. Dark. Can't see. Nothing but glare. Typing. Typing.

No threats. Lizard... one or two... they try to fight. I kill. I drink the Fishwater. Tastes good. Eyeballs add taste.

Didn't forget Terri. Don't want to forget Terri. Trying to forget everything else.

Barking. In my ears. Like trumpets. Like living trumpets.

I lie down. Flesh clutches me. Shake it off. Move on. Can't stop walking. Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.