Evac Day +254
#4 of Collab (to be renamed later)
Hey, been a while. I thought I would give you guys a little bit more of a certain Shepherd's journal.
Evac Day +254
The bodies are starting to get to me. They're everywhere. Even walking down a street, there is no escape from the withered and decaying forms, their putrid, nauseating stench, or their horrible, hollow eye sockets. They lay where they fell. In the streets, in windows, in their beds, their cars, on their couches. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. Millions of the dead laying or leaning, or sitting, or slumped where they died.
I think they are starting to get at me. To work their way into my psyche. To writhe and dig their way into my head. I think they are restless. I think they are watching me..
Those eyeless sockets... The eyes are one of the first things that the rats and the birds eat. I don't know why, but it is. And all that they leave are eyeless, hollow sockets in their sunken faces. And... and it feels like they are watching me. The eyeless corpses are watching me, judging me for what I have done so that I do not become one of them. What a horror it is to be watched by something that you know isn't actually watching you. They can't be... can they?
No!
That's impossible. They are dead. Logic over fear, logic over fear, logic over fear..
THEY ARE WATCHING! THEY ARE JUDGING! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG!
Logic... over... fear
They are dead. They are without eyes. They cannot see me for two, concrete, and valid reasons. To suggest otherwise would be doing nothing but giving into fear and losing my grip on reality. To loose my grip on reality is to slip into madness. To slip into madness is death. Death leads to me becoming another eyeless corpse.
NO!
I will NOT end up another rotting bag of flesh laying on the ground. I will not. My eyes are my own. They belong in my head, not in the belly of some flesh-eating scavenger. My eyes are mine. I will not end up like them. I refuse to.
Constantly watching....