I woke up to darkness. The last thing I remember was inspecting the barn while Hector was out checking one of the silos. I remember seeing basic tools in the barn like pitchforks and shovels when I felt someone grab me from behind. I remember feeling an intense pressure on my neck until I passed out. Now I'm here.
I can only guess that I'm in a cellar. I don't know if this is the same cellar I saw when we approached the house yesterday. I felt around in the pitch black for what seemed like hours, but was probably just a few minutes. I felt shelves and tables, a sink, tool racks and tripped over a pile of sticks where I fell and crushed a few of them. I felt a drawer, opened it and came across a box of matches. I lit one and to my disgust, those sticks were bones. Ribs, femurs, a couple of skulls.
Burning myself on the first match, I reached in the box, withdrew a second and lit it. I quickly scanned for a lantern or a candle and spotted a four-armed candelabra. All but one of the four candles were burned down to their wicks, so I lit the only one left, which is threatening to die out now as I'm writing this.
Speaking of writing, I'm writing on a ledger with a pencil that I found on the desk. I took the candelabra with me and began scanning the room. The table that I felt, it was stained with blood. The sink was discolored with some kind of fluid. The tool rack had a various assortment of tools from scythes to a nasty looking giant corkscrew. They bore the dark marks of bloodstains, too. It was seeing those tools that frightened me to my core.
Then I saw the doors at the top of the five step staircase and I raced to it. Knowing they'd be locked but trying anyway, the doors wouldn't open. I heard the chain banging against the doors in protest of me trying to ram them open. I was going to continue, but then the fear kicked in again and I stopped. If I drew the attention of whoever locked me down here, I may not ready for them.
This fear I'm feeling is new. I've been fighting off zombies for close to a year and a half. I've dealt with those menacing alphas, but those were threats that I could see. Those were things that I had experience with. Being locked in this cellar, though, not knowing who or what is on the other side is seriously freaking me out. Even holding this scythe I plucked off the rack gives me little assurance in being able to survive whatever comes through those doors.
And what kills me is not knowing what's happened to everyone else! I don't know if they're alive or dead, or if they're harmed or locked up somewhere else on this property. I haven't heard any screams, but who knows what that means. All I can do now is just wait. It really feels like that the zombies are no longer an issue. I think other survivors are going insane. I wonder if the virus isn't affecting our minds on some level.
The candle just died. I'm writing this in the dark only by feel. If I live to see tomorrow, I'm sure this page will be almost illegible. And now I'm really starting to notice the stink. I've smelled death before but not locked up in a stuffy cellar. It's starting to make me nauseous. I'm starting to hear shuffling going on outside Sounds like someone's dragging something.
I shoul
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