Torn From the Dead – Part 3

Survived

This is the third and final part of my Torn from the Dead series where I narrate a game of Zafehouse. You can find part 1 here and part 2 here. Hope you enjoy!

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The following excerpts were found in the township of Salem, in the State of Maine. Here is the unedited texts from that journal. It has yet to be confirmed whether the people in question are still with us, or have turned. The town itself was reclaimed two months ago, one of the last to be contained after the initial outbreak.

8:00pm: He did it just like I said. Everyone with a weapon was placed in a building, everyone else was sent to the hospital or left out to die. How can a man be so cold? We fended off another attack, and I’m becoming numb to it. Paul sent me a rifle, and after the first few shots I seemed to get the hang of it. I’ve removed my priest’s collar. I’m no longer a man of God if I’m taking lives. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to absolve myself of my sins.

10:00pm: We lost the warehouse. That means no more material for barricades. Which means we’re lost. I think Paul is going to lead a party in there to retake it, but I worry for him. Without him we lose our leadership, and I’m not sure this party could handle that. We shall see. I shall be praying for him.

11:00pm: Thank God, he retook the building. Of course, the first thing to do is rebuild the warehouse’s barricades, but hopefully we’ll see it through the night. Kim left me, to be replaced by Summer. Without Kim’s shotgun we’ll have to rely on my rifle. I hope the Lord sees fit to make my aim true.

September 6th

12:00am: We lost the warehouse again. I don’t know what we’re going to do. Kim is dead, Stephanie is dead, they’re all dying. Paul won’t risk another attempt to get it back, saying we’ll just have to wait out the final few hours before dawn. I don’t think we’ll last that long. He told me to have faith. The gall of the man! It took all my willpower not to lose it with him, but I can see the whole group starting to fragment. If we get attacked again I don’t think I can fend them off.

6:00am: I’m not sure how we are still alive, but it’s dawn and I’m still here. Paul is going to try and retake the warehouse, although I don’t fancy his chances. There just isn’t enough of us to last this thing through. We have to survive another half a day, and then the army will get here, they say, but we’re armed just as well; how will an army survive?

7:00am: We’re doomed. Paul is dead, we’re all just the walking dead now, we just don’t know it yet. I’m abandoning the Church, it’s no good to us any more, just a hollow husk of lies. No God would throw this at his people. The mansion is our last hope. It’s large enough to defend, and we’ll just have to ride out the storm. It shouldn’t be much longer now.

11:00am: They attacked again, but with all of use firing we made short work of them. I think I’m starting to become desensitized to this. I’m not enjoying the killing, but I’m taking grim satisfaction from it. We lost the other buildings today, we could see the damned attacking. It’s almost noon, and the military said they’d be here by dusk. We just need to hold on a little longer.

12:00pm: The barricades won’t hold much longer. They are coming in larger and larger groups; I think they know where we are. I don’t think we can last till dusk. If we do die, I hope this journal finds it’s way to the right people. I don’t want what happened here to be forgotten. Too many good people have died.

5:00pm: It’s almost dusk. We’ve fended off the latest attack but our barricades are almost gone, and without supplies to reinforce them we can’t rebuild. Looking out the window I see a faceless horde of them, gathering, for one last attack. If we can fend them off this time then we make it. The feel of the rifle butt in my hand is reassuring.

6:00pm: The sound of helicopters in the distance is somewhat anti-climatic. We’ve survived, but at what cost? My faith is shattered, I’m a killer, and I’ve left people to die when I could have risked my own life to save them. Our barricades held through, but it was the piles of dead that served as a better blockade than any we could’ve fashioned. My hands smell of gunpowder and sweat, and I haven’t eaten in days. I don’t think I can return to society, not after this.

Former Priest Ben Howard

The group of survivors was extricated from the Mansion on the evening of September 6th. It was later found out that there were almost 600 dead infected in the town, with the bodies of what is believed to be almost 30 survivors. After an aggressive campaign against the infected the last was killed off 3 days ago, on November 3rd.

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And that’s it, let me know what you all thought of it.       Art credit goes to Vampiric Beast.

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About Phill Cameron

I've graduated, had a look at the world, and spat. Now I'm devoting my time to moving from 3/4 of a games journalist to 9/10ths. I figure I can get away with 9/10ths.
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2 Responses to Torn From the Dead – Part 3

  1. Seniath says:

    Very good, more of this please kay thanks.

  2. Sandermall says:

    Bleeding good! I thought about doing this, but I never got around to it. But I can support that terrible feeling of seeing all of your survivors slowly fall, one by one and then in groups.

    Good show.

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