10 days later - a survivors tale
Day 431, 06:24
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Published in Denmark 
•
by
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by Lerdeif
Wednesday the 14th of January. 2.14 pm
No one know how it started. No one know exactly when.
The fast spread indicates that the outbreak started in a closely populated area, possibly right here in Copenhagen.
But none of that matters now. There is no cure. No future. No Hope.
The streets are chaos. For every pure soul that falls, they gain in numbers.
When my courage allows me to, I take a quick glance outside the window.
The few swedes left are now running desperately towards the Öresund Bridge, with whatever family treasures they can carry.
The panic is all over their faces. According to the media, the storebaelt bridge has already been blown by the swedish occupation force on Fyn.
And it cant be many hours before they blow up the last link to civilization - thereby completing the birth of the danish quarantine nation.
I would join the fleeing swedes if I could, but the swedish empire is accepting no more danish refugees. It is too late. I am lost.
Friday the 16th of January. 8.01 pm
Two days have gone by.
My precaution to fill the bathtub with water proved to be essential. While i still have electricity, I now seem to lack both running water and signal for my cell phone.
I've blocked the enterance with my old armoire and pulled the curtains.
The only sounds from outside are the occasional screams and pleads for mercy. I'm getting better at ignoring them now.
Alot of people fled to the television headquarters of "DR byen" and isolated themselves in there. Thanks to them the TV-channel DR1 is still transmitting.
While DR byen appears to be completely surrounded by our infected countrymen, a group of hard thinkers and philosophers have gathered inside, in a quest to unlock the mystery of this evil.
After the first hours of discussion and going through the television news-archives, the first theories argue that we have been blind to the symptoms which started over a decade ago.
As the years went by the few already corrupted danes gained power, ruining our foreign affairs and caused political and economical disasters.
From being a role model, Denmark was all of a sudden the black sheep of Europe.
Then the civil unrest started. First a few isolated incidents - Then it was all over the suburbs.
No one saw it comming. No one fully understood what was going on.
Friday the 16th of January 11.36 pm
There has been a new TV-transmission. After further study of the archives it seems like there has been a new discovery.
Though the infected doesnt seem to care about gunshots to the chest and limbs, none of the reported cases from the last weeks, tells of infected who survived shots to the head.
It seems fair to conclude that severe trauma to the brain might disable the infected danes.
Saturday the 17th of January 3.14 am
I woke up in front of the television. Woke up to a nightmare.
"DR byen has been breached. *Sniff* They are all over the place." A young woman was talking to the camera while tears were running down her cheeks.
"Mom. Dad. If you're out there - I just..." Then some disturbance to the signal for a few minutes, before half an hour of terrifying pictures from inside the fallen "Fortress".
Now the transmission has ended and I'm alone. Alone in the dark.
Tuesday the 20th of January 1.45 pm
Three days have passed... Nothing. No signs of life. I'm feeling the fear grow inside me. Am I the only one left?
This morning I found myself eagerly awaiting a deathscream at the window. But my ears were only met with silence.
I havent heard any human-made sounds since a swedish gunship flew over my building two days ago.
What is going to happen to me? I'm running low on food...
Tuesday the 20th of January 5.30 pm
...Where are you all? why am I alone? Why? WHY!?...
Tuesday the 20th of January 11.14 pm + 57 seconds
...I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my
dream. That's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a
straight razor, and surviving...
Wednesday the 21th of January around 5 pm
I made a friend today.
Peter. Peter the Pineapple.
He is round with long hair and rough skin. Definately no beauty, but a good listener.
We discussed going outside to look for other survivors, but he was afraid. And I can't just leave him behind.
Instead I gently washed his hair in the bathtub, and afterwards he scratched my back. We've only known eachother for one day, but I think we're becomming best friends.
The television started transmitting again. It seems like a mysterious person took charge of DR byen.
The only thing on the TV screen is a picture of the new danish flag. Then a deep voice repeats: "I am the count. I bring the gift of better times. No need to hide inside you houses. Come out and be a proud part of a new nation. Come out..."
After discussing wether this "count" is a saint or super-zombie, Peter and I agreed to disagree and left the subject for the time being.
Thursday the 22th evening
We stayed in bed all day. Holding eachother. Sharing our warmth.
It feels good to be truely close to someone. Knowing that however dark the world might be, we will always be together.
I love you Peter.
Friday the 23th. Daylight
I ate Peter.
I cracked his skull in against the sink and fed on his brain. It was like each bite took away a bit of my pain.
I fact all worries, discomfort and misery left my body while chewing on his insides.
Unfortunately I now realize how I gave in to my primal instincs and sacrificed my only friend simply to satisfy my own hunger.
I fear that the danish disease has influenced if not already contaminated me. This isn't me, I'm no murderer.
Actually when I come to think of it there can be no doubt. This wasn't my doing. It was their. They slaughtered my best friend.
You couldn't even let me have this one thing, could you? You beasts! But I will make you pay. I will punish your greed. Every last one of you will feel my fury for this betrayal.
I will have my revenge before the end and nothing can stop me, NOTHING!
Friday the 23th. After nightfall
For the first time since the birth of our nation I removed the armoire from the enterance, and left my safe zone.
In the abandoned appartment two floors down I found what I was looking for: A dusty single barreled shotgun and 18 shells from the prime of the swedish empire.
I am ready now. Tomorrow will be the day.
Saturday the 24th Noon
The last twenty four hours have made me realize that I cannot stay in hiding anymore. It's time to face my destiny.
I know that in order to save my soul, I will have to find other survivors before I completely lose myself.
And if I'm the only sane person left, I will take as many corrupted danes with me when I leave this earth.
It's payback time!
I leave this journal behind to tell my story. A survivors tale.
No one know how it started. No one know exactly when.
The fast spread indicates that the outbreak started in a closely populated area, possibly right here in Copenhagen.
But none of that matters now. There is no cure. No future. No Hope.
The streets are chaos. For every pure soul that falls, they gain in numbers.
When my courage allows me to, I take a quick glance outside the window.
The few swedes left are now running desperately towards the Öresund Bridge, with whatever family treasures they can carry.
The panic is all over their faces. According to the media, the storebaelt bridge has already been blown by the swedish occupation force on Fyn.
And it cant be many hours before they blow up the last link to civilization - thereby completing the birth of the danish quarantine nation.
I would join the fleeing swedes if I could, but the swedish empire is accepting no more danish refugees. It is too late. I am lost.
Friday the 16th of January. 8.01 pm
Two days have gone by.
My precaution to fill the bathtub with water proved to be essential. While i still have electricity, I now seem to lack both running water and signal for my cell phone.
I've blocked the enterance with my old armoire and pulled the curtains.
The only sounds from outside are the occasional screams and pleads for mercy. I'm getting better at ignoring them now.
Alot of people fled to the television headquarters of "DR byen" and isolated themselves in there. Thanks to them the TV-channel DR1 is still transmitting.
While DR byen appears to be completely surrounded by our infected countrymen, a group of hard thinkers and philosophers have gathered inside, in a quest to unlock the mystery of this evil.
After the first hours of discussion and going through the television news-archives, the first theories argue that we have been blind to the symptoms which started over a decade ago.
As the years went by the few already corrupted danes gained power, ruining our foreign affairs and caused political and economical disasters.
From being a role model, Denmark was all of a sudden the black sheep of Europe.
Then the civil unrest started. First a few isolated incidents - Then it was all over the suburbs.
No one saw it comming. No one fully understood what was going on.
Friday the 16th of January 11.36 pm
There has been a new TV-transmission. After further study of the archives it seems like there has been a new discovery.
Though the infected doesnt seem to care about gunshots to the chest and limbs, none of the reported cases from the last weeks, tells of infected who survived shots to the head.
It seems fair to conclude that severe trauma to the brain might disable the infected danes.
Saturday the 17th of January 3.14 am
I woke up in front of the television. Woke up to a nightmare.
"DR byen has been breached. *Sniff* They are all over the place." A young woman was talking to the camera while tears were running down her cheeks.
"Mom. Dad. If you're out there - I just..." Then some disturbance to the signal for a few minutes, before half an hour of terrifying pictures from inside the fallen "Fortress".
Now the transmission has ended and I'm alone. Alone in the dark.
Tuesday the 20th of January 1.45 pm
Three days have passed... Nothing. No signs of life. I'm feeling the fear grow inside me. Am I the only one left?
This morning I found myself eagerly awaiting a deathscream at the window. But my ears were only met with silence.
I havent heard any human-made sounds since a swedish gunship flew over my building two days ago.
What is going to happen to me? I'm running low on food...
Tuesday the 20th of January 5.30 pm
...Where are you all? why am I alone? Why? WHY!?...
Tuesday the 20th of January 11.14 pm + 57 seconds
...I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my
dream. That's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a
straight razor, and surviving...
Wednesday the 21th of January around 5 pm
I made a friend today.
Peter. Peter the Pineapple.
He is round with long hair and rough skin. Definately no beauty, but a good listener.
We discussed going outside to look for other survivors, but he was afraid. And I can't just leave him behind.
Instead I gently washed his hair in the bathtub, and afterwards he scratched my back. We've only known eachother for one day, but I think we're becomming best friends.
The television started transmitting again. It seems like a mysterious person took charge of DR byen.
The only thing on the TV screen is a picture of the new danish flag. Then a deep voice repeats: "I am the count. I bring the gift of better times. No need to hide inside you houses. Come out and be a proud part of a new nation. Come out..."
After discussing wether this "count" is a saint or super-zombie, Peter and I agreed to disagree and left the subject for the time being.
Thursday the 22th evening
We stayed in bed all day. Holding eachother. Sharing our warmth.
It feels good to be truely close to someone. Knowing that however dark the world might be, we will always be together.
I love you Peter.
Friday the 23th. Daylight
I ate Peter.
I cracked his skull in against the sink and fed on his brain. It was like each bite took away a bit of my pain.
I fact all worries, discomfort and misery left my body while chewing on his insides.
Unfortunately I now realize how I gave in to my primal instincs and sacrificed my only friend simply to satisfy my own hunger.
I fear that the danish disease has influenced if not already contaminated me. This isn't me, I'm no murderer.
Actually when I come to think of it there can be no doubt. This wasn't my doing. It was their. They slaughtered my best friend.
You couldn't even let me have this one thing, could you? You beasts! But I will make you pay. I will punish your greed. Every last one of you will feel my fury for this betrayal.
I will have my revenge before the end and nothing can stop me, NOTHING!
Friday the 23th. After nightfall
For the first time since the birth of our nation I removed the armoire from the enterance, and left my safe zone.
In the abandoned appartment two floors down I found what I was looking for: A dusty single barreled shotgun and 18 shells from the prime of the swedish empire.
I am ready now. Tomorrow will be the day.
Saturday the 24th Noon
The last twenty four hours have made me realize that I cannot stay in hiding anymore. It's time to face my destiny.
I know that in order to save my soul, I will have to find other survivors before I completely lose myself.
And if I'm the only sane person left, I will take as many corrupted danes with me when I leave this earth.
It's payback time!
I leave this journal behind to tell my story. A survivors tale.
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Comments
WTF?
🙂
I enjoyed this.
Actually I hope it keeps going, I especially enjoyed the images. Amazing effort.
LOL?
Thank you Per
I had alot of fun writing this, so im definately not ruling out a continuation at some point.
Great job! You get a subscriber!
This was awesome, laughed my behind off at certain points
"I love you Peter.
I ate Peter."
Pure brilliance!
Thank you guys.
I was a bit annoyed when the site went down just an hour after I published. An article is best served hot and fresh, but I'm glad a few night owls gave it a chance, now that its back up.
Unfortunately the downtime also killed the "frontpage picture" along with all our profile pictures.
lol 🙂