June 2012
2 posts
I’m escaping this place. I’ve spent the last day preparing, darting into crumbling buildings for any scrap of food. Off in the distance, I can hear buildings collapsing and see the clouds of dust that mark their graves.
I’m at the edge of town now. There’s a sign here, rusted through. “Now leaving” the town name long ago fell to rust flake. But below it, hope....
It arrived. Yesterday. The root cause for this place. I had finally reached the edge of town, or the town finally let me reach it. I tried to work up the courage to leave, but that old, familiar feeling, that nameless fear welled up inside me again. I slept in a tiny apartment, trying not to dream when I heard this sound, like wet meat on stone. I looked to the windows. Dozens of blurred faces...
May 2012
5 posts
I laid down in the street today. I don’t know what I was trying to do. Was I trying to find a way out? Was I going to lie there until something happened, my death, an end to the cycles?
I laid there for hours. And then they arrived.
All of them, the faceless horde, they gathered around me and watched. And it hit me.
They’re me. I’m them. We are each a nation, independent,...
This place knows. Knows I know of it. I left the diner to find something more nutritious than meat patties and vegetables. I took great care to stay on the streets, in the open, anywhere I could make an easy escape. The deli nearby was a nightmare. My heart nearly hammered it’s way up my throat, it was too small, I could swear I heard the rattling of cans whenever I turned my back.
And...
I saw a figure the other day. Not a retreating one, or something out of the corner of my eye. Someone else.
I was sitting in the diner reading the notes, as has been my ritual since I found this place. When I looked up, out the window, there it was. At the street corner, a distant figure, watching. I contemplated chasing after it, the thought of social contact after so long nearly stirred me to...
I’m currently in a diner. Odd place to rest, yes. Up until a few days ago, I had been wandering through the town, drowning in a sea of rusting metal and decaying houses. Each time I passed this diner, I was filled with an oddly familiar, nameless fear.
Yesterday, I went in.
Nothing was as expected. Instead of dust caked tables and floors, I was greeted by notebooks. Dozens of them....
This place is..broken. Caught in an instant of time like a fly in amber. Everything is the way it was the day before, reset like a clock. The stores that I’ve been taking my food from, the pantries I’ve raided, no matter how much I take, the next day they’re full again, shelves bursting with a wealth of food. And yet my food supply remains the same, my place of residence holds onto every little...
April 2012
5 posts
The fog has been growing thicker as of late. Darkness falls sooner, what light there is during the day is gloomy. Every alleyway is now a gaping maw, an endless expanse of black opening onto dimly lit streets.
I’m thinking of heading further into town. I’m hoping to find the town hall, a library, someplace with records. Maybe I’ll find a map and name for this town.
Walking down these streets inflicts a strong sense of deja vu, almost as if I’ve walked them before. When I turn corners, I swear I can recognize land marks, specific places, followed by the stronger urge to go towards them.
But the sense of deja vu is always washed over by a sense of dread. Every second I spend outside feels like something’s watching me, that if I turn at any moment,...
I’ve spent the last two days scouting through this endless fog. The sun casts a muted light during the day, giving everything a gray pallor and casting deep shadows. Nights are pitch black, the street lamps producing small halos of light on empty streets.The air feels like a heavy weight on my shoulders, it has a metallic tang to it, almost like blood.
I try to be indoors before sundown..but...
My name is Nathan Grey. I don’t where I am, I don’t know how I got here. When I look out the window I see an endless expanse of rusting cars, decrepit buildings, and a constant brooding fog, an empty, shell of a town. And yet, despite all this, the subtle decay all around me, the water stains in the walls, piles of dust on the carpet, crumbling plaster, the power still works, the water still runs....
Why are you anchored here?
