Alternia Comics

The following is a transcription of a journal I bought from a traveling merchant. He said it contains the story and thoughts of one of what we call the Unbroken, one of the mindless zombies who has, somehow, regained some semblance of sanity and self control. The name on the inside cover is Ian MacKellen.

- James Connor, Bard of Subterra.

Day One.

I can't bear to record what I saw when I woke earlier. The end of my life, my family, and that bastard redneck. My little Sarah. My Angela. I cannot -- [The ink here has been smeared and smudged as by small droplets of liquid, likely tears given the context, rendering the text illegible. -ed]

I'm not sure where I am right now. I left them and just drove, figuring I would stop when I got too hungry or tired. Instead I stopped because the sun started rising and I realized I'd been driving all night. I don't feel tired, but the Hunger is always there. Not for any of the roadside diners or fast food places I've passed. I try not to focus on it. When I think too much about what I'd like to eat, I see Sarah. My hands shake on the wheel and I have to force the Hunger from my mind.

I pulled off the highway an hour ago and meandered through this little town until I stopped at a cemetery. I thought maybe if I dug up a body I could ... I don't know ... sate the Hunger. It didn't really work.

Day Two

I try to keep my mind from the Hunger by reading the martial arts books I found in the car. I can practice the forms all day, it seems, and only stopped because the sun went down and I didn't have enough light to see the pages.

I'm camping out in the cemetery still, mostly because there's no one else here. I thought I might be able to find something in town to distract me, keep the Hunger away, but what few people I found recoiled in horror and the Hunger only grew stronger. I tried to buy some new clothes, and a scarf to cover the gaping wound in my neck, but it was difficult with the cashiers hiding in the stock room. I left some cash on the counter and hoped it would be enough.

Day Three

A trip to the library for more martial arts books met with the same success as the clothier yesterday.

Day Four

I didn't mean to.

A Sheriff's deputy approached me as I was practicing a set of judo movements and throws. I reacted to him stepping on a twig before I had a chance to think and found a man lying at my feet, his neck broken. Grief broke down my resolve, distracted that part of my mind holding the Hunger in check and I ... I don't remember what happened next.

I remember feeling the Hunger surge through me, then blackness.

I came to my senses again with fresh blood on my hands, staining my new shirt. I buried the deputy's remains, Deputy Robert Northman, and placed his possessions on top of the cairn marking his grave.

I'm going to get back on the road again tonight. Maybe head West.