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Dead man's story

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  12:10:08  20 April 2006
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Amoki
back with a vengeance
(V.I.P.)

 

 
On forum: 07/31/2003
Messages: 1729
Dead man's story

Why does my sanity torture me like this? Denying me ignorance. Tearing me apart with memories. With truths.

When did I lose my grace?

I once lived too. Together with my wife and daughter. In a house far and far again away from this hellmarked land. Strange though, I remember clear as day how they looked, yet I cant remember their names. Its like it doesnt matter as long as I know they have names. I had a name too.And I havent forgotten it but I never use it anymore. I dont need a name. Im not alive anymore. Nothing here is alive. This entire area of contaminated abomination is death itself and yet things are moving around in the dark. Hunting. Searching. Creatures that was never meant for the world of the living roam the forests at night, ravaging the land, leaving filthy scars that slowely expands, consuming everything around them. These unholy demons must be stopped. They are not alive and should not move. Im laying here, carefully camofluaged with mud. Laying here waiting. My body in a perfect line with my rifle. I am a perfect weapon. My shoulder aches after hours spent tightly pressed againt the stock. Every muscle of my body on full alert, ready to act instantly. I spend my time like this, waiting, as silent and still as I can, so I dont give my position away. I dont eat much, only whats needed to keep my body going and mind clear. I sleep only a few hours scattered over the day. I dear not sleep at night. Shadows move in symbiosis with the creatures, the perfect camofluage, and darkness is their haven.

I see creatures through my scope, their foul eyes burning, and I put them down. Cries echoes over landscapes as it draws its final breath and falls to the ground, motionless. Some even look human. But humans cant live here. I leave the prey where it fell and wait. Soon others will smell death and close in to feast on the cadaver of their fallen comrade and when they do, I lay them down beside. At dawn I pile the carcasses together and burn them up. With the light of fire behind me I swiftly move on to a new position and awaits new prey.

How did I fall this far?

Why did I come here? I cant remember why or when I left my life behind. All that drives me is this urge. The urge to hunt and kill. But I cant kill that which is allready dead. And why is these memories of my life haunting me when im dead? The pictures of my family whose names I cant remember. Arent I dead? This whole place is dead. Nothing will ever live here. And I am to correct the mistake played out by nature. I'll play my part until this is over and maybe then I can go back home.

But this is my home now. I am dead.

I know now how I fell. Why I lost my grace. I came here for some reason that I cant remember, but it is of no importancy now. I lost my life as i entered the land where everything is dead. I became a hunter that moves in the shadows. I cry silently every night. Not because I miss my life but because I remember so little of it and still enough to make me remember how happy I was. I would prefer to remember nothing of it but this torture doesnt seem to go away. Why cant I just forget it all. Forget that I ever existed. But as little as I can remember my minds clings to it, determined not to let go. I can neither remember, nor forget. My own personal hell. I left my grace together with my life. I dedicated myself to kill.

I became one of the creatures. Hunting. Searching.

I became one with the system.

I died.
 
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