Bashir Dicken-Paulson
New Member
For the full "experience", check out my video here.
If Leon and Claire weren't so busy just trying to stay alive, these are some of the files they might have found. I guess they were really well-hidden, or perhaps they were too soaked with blood to be of any use. We'll never know...
Page From a Researcher's Journal
We laughed at him. Called him crazy. I remember the cold look in his eyes, so self-assured...the look that said, "Laugh now, while you still can." I wish I'd paid attention to what that look meant.
It was all we could do to delay it. I've never been a religious man, but...God forgive us for what we've done. Some of our people became trapped when we sealed off the west area - Taylor, Georges, O'Connor. Their screams as the doors slid shut will surely haunt me through eternity.
The ferocity it displays, the cruelty it shows to those that fall before it...surpasses even nature's darkest designs. I say "it", because that thing is no longer a man, but a force, an engine which requires neither sleep nor sustenance but seeks only to repopulate the world in its image. Its twisted, blood-drenched, abominable image.
I lack the authority to initiate a core meltdown, and the courage to end my own life. Surely I am doomed, and soon the rest of the world will be, too. I can only hope - pray - that when my time comes, it will be quick...
Strange Journal Entry
I am in love! I spied her yesterday, reclining in the sun by her father's pool, her skin the perfect hue: a sublime blend of milky white with just the right amount of rose-petal pink, like a finely-blended glass of wine.
Earlier today I drifted off while working at my desk, and I dreamed she was mine. I had never been so happy - that is, until the claws of death snatched her away, and her skin turned dry and shriveled, causing her to become little more than a skeleton. The symbolism of it was not lost on me. The march of time is relentless, casting youth and beauty aside and leaving only shadows in its wake.
I must find a way to save her. Her father, ineffectual swine that he is, is powerless to do so; but surely I, Brian Irons, can concoct some kind of plan. Yes - it must be so. Then her and I shall be together forever...
For more stories, plus an alternate version of the classic save room music, check out the video linked up above. Cheers.
If Leon and Claire weren't so busy just trying to stay alive, these are some of the files they might have found. I guess they were really well-hidden, or perhaps they were too soaked with blood to be of any use. We'll never know...
Page From a Researcher's Journal
We laughed at him. Called him crazy. I remember the cold look in his eyes, so self-assured...the look that said, "Laugh now, while you still can." I wish I'd paid attention to what that look meant.
It was all we could do to delay it. I've never been a religious man, but...God forgive us for what we've done. Some of our people became trapped when we sealed off the west area - Taylor, Georges, O'Connor. Their screams as the doors slid shut will surely haunt me through eternity.
The ferocity it displays, the cruelty it shows to those that fall before it...surpasses even nature's darkest designs. I say "it", because that thing is no longer a man, but a force, an engine which requires neither sleep nor sustenance but seeks only to repopulate the world in its image. Its twisted, blood-drenched, abominable image.
I lack the authority to initiate a core meltdown, and the courage to end my own life. Surely I am doomed, and soon the rest of the world will be, too. I can only hope - pray - that when my time comes, it will be quick...
Strange Journal Entry
I am in love! I spied her yesterday, reclining in the sun by her father's pool, her skin the perfect hue: a sublime blend of milky white with just the right amount of rose-petal pink, like a finely-blended glass of wine.
Earlier today I drifted off while working at my desk, and I dreamed she was mine. I had never been so happy - that is, until the claws of death snatched her away, and her skin turned dry and shriveled, causing her to become little more than a skeleton. The symbolism of it was not lost on me. The march of time is relentless, casting youth and beauty aside and leaving only shadows in its wake.
I must find a way to save her. Her father, ineffectual swine that he is, is powerless to do so; but surely I, Brian Irons, can concoct some kind of plan. Yes - it must be so. Then her and I shall be together forever...
For more stories, plus an alternate version of the classic save room music, check out the video linked up above. Cheers.