thefistoffury1

Looking back, I wish I'd phrased some of those sentences a little better. I'm ESL, so, apologies for any errors. I do love the eerie concept of the aurora affecting humans as well, just slower. One of the vague warnings given is that the unnatural lights eventually corrupt higher brain function. Now, does the person become violent and primal, delusional, or do they just end up staring at the beautiful lights until they collapse? That's the fun (and creepy) mystery to think about.

Oh, of course it's not a nuke. I only assumed that Canadian officials can't explain it immediately, so naturally that's their first suspicion. That's the world we live in, sadly.

You're welcome! I'm a bit late for Halloween, but still, better late than never, right?

WE INTERRUPT YOUR REGULAR PROGRAMMING TO ISSUE AN EMERGENCY WARNING. STAND BY AND MAKE SURE ALL INSTRUCTIONS ARE AUDIBLE. WE INTERRUPT YOUR REGULAR PROGRAMMING TO ISSUE AN EMERGENCY WARNING. STAND BY AND MAKE SURE ALL INSTRUCTIONS ARE AUDIBLE. THE CRTC REPORTS A MASS BLACKOUT AND ABNORMAL WEATHER PHENOMENA, LIKELY RESULTING FROM THE DETONATION OF A NUCLEAR WARHEAD OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN. THIS INFORMATION WILL ENSURE YOUR SURVIVAL IN THE COMING DAYS. EVERY DEVICE THAT RELIES ON ELECTRICITY HAS BEEN PERMANENTLY DISABLED. DO NOT WASTE TIME ATTEMPTING TO TURN THEM BACK ON. PREPARE FOR EXTREME COLD. STOCKPILE FUEL, FOOD, WATER, AND ESSENTIAL TOOLS TO DEFEND YOURSELF. AT RANDOM INTERVALS, ALL ELECTRIC POWER WILL RETURN AT ONCE, INCLUDING VEHICLES. BEWARE OF EXPOSED WIRES AND SUDDEN BREAKOUT OF FIRE. CONSTANT ELECTROMAGNETIC FLUCTUATIONS HAVE UNPREDICTABLE EFFECTS ON THE HIGHER BRAIN FUNCTION OF ALL CREATURES IN THE MAMMALIAN CLASS. DO NOT SEEK OUT YOUR PET ANIMALS. THEY WILL HUNT YOU DOWN. BARRICADE THEM IN THEIR ENCLOSURES. IF NONE EXIST, OUTSIDE YOUR HOME. IF YOUR HOUSE IS LOCATED NEAR LARGE NUMBERS OF WILDLIFE, RELOCATE IMMEDIATELY AFTER SUNRISE. YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE ANOTHER NIGHT. YOU ARE NOT SAFE FROM THE LIGHTS IN THE SKY. OVER TIME, ABNORMAL ELECTROMAGNETIC FLUCTUATIONS AFFECT THE AMYGDALA AND PREFRONTAL CORTEX. DO NOT STARE INTO THE NIGHT SKY. DO NOT GAZE INTO THE AURORA. NO MATTER HOW GOOD IT FEELS.

Adam ran in every direction to check around his temporary shelter for supplies, nothing. Only the shallow cave he took refuge in. Hushed River Valley has the worst blizzard he had ever seen, for a second day in a row. Then again, he'd only survived in Great Bear for three days. No food, almost no water, every tree and rock and goddamn rose hip bush looks the same, he thought, and firewood is almost out too. Oh, he forgot about his lack of headgear; a certain way to catch frostbite one of these days. His pack was almost empty. No tools, no weapons, nothing. Last trek before the end, he thought. Might as well make it count. He followed the direction of the blizzard so it wouldn't slow him down,traversing fallen trees, snow banks, and even climbing one of the longest mountaineering ropes on Great Bear. A feeling grew in his mind,a sense that he was close to safety. A large scrub bush in the way, too much to move or break down on his own, blocked his way forward. No way was he going back, not at this point. The frost began to creep inside his core as his wet clothes began to freeze. Maybe a jump? There was a bit more rock to his left, maybe he could take a leap over the chasm and land beyond the scrub bushes that blocked his path. Perfect landing. As perfect as it can be for someone that was about to get hypothermic, catch frostbite, hungry and exhausted. Night was just beginning, the hum of the aurora almost audible already. The blizzard was stopping. He felt so weak, even checked his pack for a stim that never was there to begin with. Suddenly, hope. He heard echoes, surely caused by snow pressurising over a cave. A large one. He could hardly sprint, but it surely felt like his speed doubled. His bedroll was still on his back, and there had to be supplies in the ice cave. Any kind of supplies. When he saw the cave entrance, his body didn't seem to hurt anymore. He entered it, gleefully. The cave's first area held random sticks and branches, someone else's abandoned backpack with a few meds, even a toque! Adam was overjoyed. He would survive another night. A ravaged rabbit carcass caught his eye, in the clearing where light shines from above. He was so overjoyed, even the echoing crunches of collapsing snow above couldn't disturb his sleep later. As he stood in the light, he began harvesting the meat. He's so happy now, he doesn't register the sound as two green eyes approach, behind him, in the darkness. When the moment of realisation kicks in, he wishes he could turn around, to fight back. He doesn't get the chance. Adam, as well, faded into the Long Dark.

Feel free to elaborate more if you want. I understand the stats of the outer piece add up and increase the inner item's stats, right? But only for specific clothing combos based on the materials they're made of, so a warm parka works like crap if you wear a windbreaker under it. That does work like real life, indeed. They do read these forums. Also, look at my post. Do you think that isn't complicated? I posted this because I had an idea, not because I had an idea that's simple to explain.

(Apologies if this has been posted again before now, and apologies to Fahrenheit users, because I only converted the first few numbers, I hope I get my point across to you) As anyone who's played this game for a decent chunk of time knows, wind is your enemy most of the time. It carries your scent to predators so they detect you faster, it blows out your fires and, most importantly for this topic, it reduces your warmth vital on top of the ambient cold air temp. It's no accident clothes in survival have a maximum warmth bonus of 39 ° Celcius (102.2 Fahrenheit) while your maximum windchill protection bonus is 16 ° Celcius (60.8 Fahrenheit). It's meant to be difficult to withstand the frigid winds of Northern Canada. Sadly, the current system gives you no windproof bonus from clothes worn under your outermost slot. You got an Expedition Parka and two Cowichan sweaters, and wear all three of them under a Simple Parka? Only 2 ° Windproof bonus. Which makes zero sense. It's just a simplification for the sake of the clothing system. My proposal is to add a fraction of windproof bonus from clothes under the outermost ones, but only for the better (top 2/3) clothing items. General rule of thumb is this: If the clothing item in question has a maximum (100% condition) windproof bonus of anything below 1 ° Celcius (1.8 ° F) it gives no bonus when worn underneath the outermost item. It still does on the outer slot, but that's the same as the base game. If it has a bonus of 1 to 6 ° Celcius, it contributes half its Windproofing value (0.5 to 3 degrees) worn as inner clothing. And, to avoid the issues that too many decimals cause, the number is rounded. Maybe your worn down second pair of snow pants you wear on the inside has above 1.5 and below 2 degrees Celcius windproof bonus? Rounded up to 2, so the inner slot windchill bonus given is 2/2= 1 °. Is it below 1.5 degrees? Then it gets rounded down to 1, so your bonus will be 1/2 = 0.5 °. As for items that have only 1 ° of Windproof when fully repaired (like the dress shirt) , they can contribute 0.5 ° as long as the rounded number is still 1. In other words, when that dress shirt dips below 50% condition - below 0.5 ° windchill bonus - you get nothing from it. In my earlier example for the torso area, where I equipped the two Cowichan Sweaters and (purposefully) wore my Expedition Parka under a Simple Parka, instead of a meager 2 ° Celcius of windchill protection I would have, assuming all items are 100% in condition : Cowichan Sweater A and B: 2+2= 4 ° windproof bonus divided by 2 -> 2 °, and the Expedition Parka: 6 ° windproof bonus divided by 2 -> 3 °, for a total of 5 °. That's 7 ° Windproof bonus with the Simple Parka on top. Of course, equipping the Expedition Parka on the outside would allow you to get the most out of the Windproof bonuses for your chest (9 ° total actually) , but for the sake of the example I wanted to equip the best windproofing chest area clothes under a mediocre one. Using the best items possible in slots where windproof layering makes the most sense (Torso area, 3 inner slots, and Legs, 1 inner slot -I say one because longjohns don't protect you from windchill-) you get a maximum of: Two Cowichan sweaters: (2+2)= 4, 4/2= 2 ° , One expedition Parka: 6/2= 3 ° , One pair Snow Pants: 2/2 = 1 ° That adds 6 ° Celcius of Windproof bonus on top of a vanilla maximum of 16 ° granted by clothes on outer slots which gives us a new maximum of 22 ° Celcius Windproof warmth bonus. It might not seem like much, but it's a big deal sometimes. Especially when the air temperature is countered easily by your clothes, but the wind temp is colder, your windchill protection is naturally lower, and all that results in you losing warmth. I used the best four clothes for these slots to show how big the difference can be, so you can imagine the bonuses won't be as great with the early game clothes you wear on the inside. Also, bear in mind that you get drastically reduced wind protection from inner clothes if they're damaged. Let's look at all these great clothes with more than -75% condition. If the Cowichan Sweaters are worn as inner clothes and below 25% condition (under 0.5 ° Windproof bonus for each sweater) they contribute nothing to your windproof total if worn as inner clothes. The expedition parka below 25% condition would give less than 1.5 °, so that gets rounded down to 1 °. The half of that is 0.5 °, which is the final bonus. Snow pants, like the Cowichan sweater, give no windproof bonus as inner clothing because their windproof stat is below 0.5 °. Instead of the 6 ° these clothes added to windproofing as inner clothes, now it's only the Expedition Parka adding to your total Windproof score a considerably lower 1.5 ° Celcius. Needless to say, early game inner clothes will stop adding to your windchill protection much sooner (around 50% condition, depends on the item) and the worst ones -to stress the point again- contribute nothing at all. Combat pants and their half degree of Windchill bonus can only help you on the outer slot, for example. I considered adding the head inner slot to the list, but decided against it. I kept only the slots for your biggest clothing items, which naturally would act as better armour against the cold. __________ In summary, if you maintain your inner clothes (which wear down slowly anyway) you can buff your Windproof bonus slightly. Sure, lower quality or lower condition clothes help disproportionately less. However, if you had something as simple as two dress shirts, a down vest, and one pair of work pants on as supporting garments, that would give you 1.5 ° Celcius of Windproofing on top of whatever you equipped on the outermost torso and leg slots. If you had, let's say, another pair of work pants and a simple parka on the outer slots, that would be 3 ° of windproofing in the vanilla game, now 4.5 °. It's not overpowered in any way, just a subtle bonus that better clothes make far more noticeable. A better idea compared to getting absolutely nothing to resist the windchill from your inner slots. I marked this as a discussion, because I very much want to hear your feedback. I may have under - or over- explained, so feel free to ask me anything. Even better, improve upon this suggestion.

Fun little story! Gotta love the attention to detail where you ACTUALLY put stuff in storage for the old man, like the story said. But I have questions: Where is the old man? Who is he? Is Astrid the story mode character or an original survivor? Please, continue this story. Cheers!

Personal Log belonging to Henry S. [REDACTED], covert operative for the Canada Security & Intelligence Division. This was retrieved near a [REDACTED], on the western end of a broken bridge leading to [REDACTED]. Operative is MIA, possibly KIA. Multiple pools of frozen blood around the item, only one of twelve is canine. Chances of survival, very low. Classified report follows: ___ Mission Report: Date [REDACTED], 0224 Hours Precisely 4 minutes ago, a bizarre variant of an aurora borealis appeared above the Great Bear region, maybe even further. Almost everything that runs on electricity has been fried, hence this handwritten log. Newer devices that rely on sensitive electronic components are definitely unusable, while some older electronics, lightbulbs and cars function erratically while the aurora is active. When it fades, even the electronics that work under the aurora are dead, too. The errant electromagnetism airwave saturation necessary to suppress every current across every electrical component over this great an area would require a high altitude detonation of a 40 megaton bomb at least... once every 24 hours. Math is all wrong, this is insanity. I watched no fewer than two planes drop from the sky: a cargo plane of some kind to the northeast, a passenger airliner around the same area, but closer. I heard it crash, I'm sure I heard screams as well. Dear God... And a third, small plane, maybe a floatplane? Too small to make out in a night full of horrors. Some time after I was forced to leave our [REDACTED] where all equipment went haywire, I recovered survival supplies in some wealthy owner's house nearby. Huge villa, but no inhabitants. The garage also held a surprise in store: an ancient car, probably built before the 1950's. Simple ignition to start the engine is possible with a bit of tweaking, using spare parts around the house. No way the aurora could damage this old a heap that needs almost no power. I decided to use it after checking out the fridge, as I was feeling rather hungry and needed energy for the trek to come. I would make my way through the muskeg, along the train tracks to reach the plane crashes. Someone must have seen what happened, and I would help them survive, as well. Mission Report: Date [REDACTED], 0416 Hours The car worked like a charm, carrying me along train tracks for nearly 45 minutes. Owner had it refueled, so that wouldn't be a problem. I watched the sky from the driver's seat, wondering what the hell I would do once I could no longer drive to my destination. Then I thought about Joanne and the girls and all the road trips we had, but my earlier fear still kept my attention on the road. Around a curve, cruel irony answered. A broken bridge and a lot of wolves, all trying to work out a way across. I was stunned: they wanted to go towards the center of the disturbance, towards the origin point of the aurora. Maybe it's unnatural, maybe...weaponized? The wolves scattered as I hit the brakes and moments later, crashed an antique car into the rocks on the right end of the path. No way I could make the jump, and no way can I find another road in this part of the region. Shit. (Bloodstains have smudged some pieces of paper from here on) The wolves are now howling, surrounding my metal cage as I try to shake off the pain. They look different too, but that matters little. They aren't that tough and will scatter anyway after I drop a few of them. I still got my revolver, one bullet each for six wolves. My next report will follow after I somehow cross the bridge and reach the Maintenance shed nearby. I may have found a weakness of the wolves affected by the aurora. Will leave a message for other survivors and give an update soon. In any case, to my Joanne, Kate and Faith: I lo&& &&& &&&& &&& && &&&&& (unreadable) &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& (Paper is now soaked in blood. These few lines were also written, but are just as unreadable) ___ End of Mission report. Update: More blood seen on the other side of the broken railroad bridge, operative may have survived for at least a few more minutes. Search party will be dispatched when comms are back online.

That's very cool, I can imagine the entirety of Pleasant Valley like this. Far less snow, not as many hungry wolves, and DEFINITELY no freaking blizzards.

I always loved to constantly unload and reload my rifle on long treks, to keep myself entertained with that sweet bolt action. . One day I saw a heavily clothed man very far in the distance, standing motionless, so I cautiously gestured and shouted hello at the dark spot in the white horizon. . He looked surprised to see me at first, then his height got cut in half as he dropped on all fours, running unnaturally fast as if possessed by a demon . . Fright took over as I realised the bear had already closed the distance by half, and with shaky hands I aimed using all my skill and resolve. . True fear froze my soul in place when I fired an empty rifle.

Oh no....stinky, wasn't one restraining order from that other deer enough?

Let's be honest, the game is (according to most devs these days and how they make games) content complete for a while now. Other developers might/would have stopped adding anything besides new story mode chapters. In any case, how nice that you recovered that list!

Thanks a lot! I was aiming for immersive, so that's good to hear. I rewrote it a couple of times, and I'm glad the work paid off.

(Some plot points may contradict future story mode chapters) Then: The last few snowflakes that came to rest on the windows of Jackrabbit Remote Transport had begun to melt, thanks to the progressively warmer morning sun. Golden rays pierced into the hangar, where the pilot and owner of the establishment performed maintenance on his floatplane. The sun shed its light on the wealth of engineering tools and parts, rendering them all fully visible. Which was a rather rare occurence, mostly due to the dim, outdated electric lamps that should have burned out about two decades ago. No one but the owner could possibly know where to look for, say, a misplaced wrench at nighttime, with so very little electric light. As he worked, laid on his back under the floatplane, the pilot could slowly but surely see and feel the sun's effects; in fact, he tried to take it all in before the next blizzard in a few days' time, supposedly one of the heaviest in decades. Not that he would be anywhere but here, playing cards alone and having a drink too many...or too early. No travelling for Will Mackenzie this month, he thought. Chances are, no travelling for the next year, either. The Collapse had damaged his business, just like everyone else's, maybe even more. No one would see how well his old girl runs as she soars above the untamed Canadian wilderness, assuming anyone could appreciate it. No one entirely could, he reminded himself, not since Astrid. The door to the hangar swung open as a young woman walked in. Her stride was confident, her presence accentuated even more by her natural red, curly hair and her toned physique, only slightly hidden underneath puffy winter clothing. "An emergency flight to Hawaii, my dear pilot. I must get there post-haste!", said the woman in a deep voice and sporting a pseudo-Engligh accent. "Ha ha, Maureen", replied Will as he slid away from the underside of the plane to meet her. She instantly replied, "Would it kill you to hold onto one funnybone, Mackenzie? Just one?" He was now one or two grunts from stretching the stiffness away to stand straight in front of her, his eyes meeting hers. "We should arrive just in time for happy hour, Ma'am", Will said in an equally terrible accent. Maureen ran the administrative office next to the hangar, doing all the necessary paperwork. Her workload was just as heavy as Will's, which is to say, nearly zero. She would always visit the hangar just before going to work to catch up and talk about the news, but today was different. Some self-reflection was long overdue and that extended to her profession, and her boss. "Hey Will, I want to ask you something"."Sure, how can I help?" She would ask a question he wouldn't get the answer to until much later. "I wanted to know, why do you still keep the transport service running? Even though not a single major client has stepped in here, for so many months now? I mean, we'll go borderline bankrupt in less than half a year at this rate." Will was taken aback as he heard it all. He was familiar enough with Maureen to talk about everything and anything, but this specific topic, out of the blue. "I'm not sure, Maureen." He could only be brutally honest and hope for the best. "I suppose I care about the few people left who live here and I'm willing to give them a helping hand. Maybe I'm too afraid to move on, so I stay still, like a ship in frozen, icy waters. Maybe I'm stuck in the past, reminiscing about happier days now gone. Or maybe I'm just waiting for something to fall on my lap for my life to change course." Maureen responded with a friendly, understanding nod. "It's okay if you're unsure, I just wondered because it's been so long since Astrid, and your baby boy, so I thought you'd want-- Will interrupted Maureen impatiently, as if he was trying to stop the flow of memories her words wrestled free. "Like I said, I'm unsure. Let's leave it at that, okay?" His tone didn't seem angry or frustrated, he was rather trying to avoid discussing the issue further. Will felt the conversation was getting tense and thus he structured his retort in acceptance of his burdens, so that Maureen wouldn't have to feel their weight. "I wish I could do more for or beyond this place, but at the end of the day I have to accept what my limits are. I can't just abandon everything I know, close my eyes and hope my next gamble pays off. I hope you can understand." Maureen had the same sympathetic look in her face, an inkling of guilt for stressing him out growing underneath. "I understand, my friend." She wouldn't press this delicate a matter further. Will offered some morning coffee and that was that. Now: The echoes in the damp maze of a cave are never-ending, made worse by what feels like a dozen ice water currents. No matter how much Will kept his breath and body still, he can't hear his stalker's footsteps. His clothes ripped to pieces or missing, his tools and weapons scattered. Only one chance now, the spear. After traversing a labyrinth of bio-luminescence decorated tunnels that almost drives him to the point of desparation, the central cave comes into view, the spear resting atop a rock in its center. Now, Will can hear breathing and footsteps all around him. His primal fear urges him to hide in the shadows for all time, but there's no time to waste. A mix of hope, fear and instinct fuel him as he runs to the spear, picking it up with a half smile and hoping the old trapper wasn't taking the old Spence legend too seriously. The marrow in his bones freezes as he looks up, the Old Bear already charging at him through the darkness and into the light the open cave ceiling allows. He has less than three seconds before the bear reaches him, so he points the spear at it as he stands his ground. Two seconds now, his arms stop shivering as an unnatural clarity takes over. The answer to Maureen's question becomes obvious. "Because I owe you, Maureen. Even the days I'm too exhausted to honour what my grandpa and father taught me, you and your family still rely on this job, the income you need to sustain them. For all you've done for me here, I owe you something in return". He realises, he owes Astrid too. For all the good she did in his life, the greater meaning she gave it, no matter how everything ended. One second away, the Old Bear stands on its hind legs for a moment and prepares to crash down on a man ten times smaller like a tsunami of muscle, scars and teeth. He takes a gamble as he closes his eyes to keep his arms calm and on target for a little longer. His mind returns to the night his plane crashed in the pit near Milton, where he fell through the windshield, Astrid whispering to him in a dream: "Don't give up. Remember who we were. Don't let this new world break you. And I will see you again". Under his breath, Will Mackenzie utters "Astrid, you will. I promise". His gut tells him he's past his limits, that he's going to die alone in the cold dark. He doesn't listen. The spear makes contact as he opens his eyes. (Thanks for reading, this amateur writer appreciates comments)

Thank you for this great collection, Alex! It was a ton of fun overall, most stories had a unique flavor so it felt really good to read through them in succession. Did you use your own in-game experiences while writing? In any case, cheers!

I've never seen this and holy crap, it's the funniest TLD art I've ever seen! Love the teacups stacked like shotgun shells, also that tea is obviously gone. Unless it's.....frozen solid?

Thanks! I was thinking about how many players have died again and again in TLD. Even if someone hasn't, by playing on the easiest difficulty, death is inevitable. Maybe it could be thousands of days in, but it is.

A very fun read! Well done. The endless cycle of creating man-made fire to keep the pilgrim alive, forever stolen away by the cold is a great bit!

Oh man, my heart can't take it to write a sequel 😆 In the longer unedited version, I mention how the dad ran away after the first aurora ended and everyone was going crazy without power, after begging the mom to leave their adopted son behind because they were never going to survive fighting wolves and blizzards AND tending to the newborn. Because they're both terrible people, they did the unthinkable. As I imagine it, one of the escaped prisoners separated them as he tried to kill them, somewhere between the Prison transport bus and the Orca Gas Station in Milton. They are probably alive somewhere. The only thing that keeps them up at night is how they're alone, not abandoning their child. And the protagonist (the Olympic diver) goes from being picky about sleep to being so scarred she can't sleep at all. There you go. The next one will be a comedy, I swear to God 😋

Thank you!

In the old world, I worried too much about the quality of my bed and how comfortably I slept in it. Pillow? Not too soft, not too stiff. Mattress? Not too flat or rigid, not too tall or plushy. If my skeleton was to suffer any more after that failure of a dive in the London Olympics, I might as well retire and teach toddlers how to swim. Covers? Beyond the satin sheets, whatever the weather required. I'm not 100% picky. Only 90% picky. Correction. I *wasn't* picky. Now? My first night I slept in a car, wind and wolves howling outside. Barely warm enough to make it to dawn. Ever since I found a crappy bedroll, I sleep anywhere I have to, as long as there is a warm fire nearby. I sleep on cave floors, wooden floors, snow banks, ice, you name it. I face the warm glow as I close my eyes, something that feels like the city lights of the cities we once knew. Every now and then I find a house that isn't ruined or boarded up, and sleep in a normal bed. Unfortunately, the worst kind of sleep I get now is in ordinary beds. I walk by framed photographs and mementos as I prepare to rest. I lay down on a cold bed that once belonged to all kinds of people from every walk of life. Sometimes I fall asleep exhausted, while other times I stare at the photographs by the nightstand, picturing myself in their lives, before they froze to death or got eaten by wildlife. Those nights just won't end. The unnatural aurora kicks in occasionally, mocking me for trying to imagine a louder, living world. In its stead, eerie silence broken up by electrical hums, the corpse of our techology reanimated like a contemporary Frankenstein's monster. A few nights ago, I slept in the town of Milton. All the dwellings were filled with useful gear but, in my search for a place to rest, the biggest house was off limits, according to the old woman that aimed her rifle through her window. The second biggest would have to do. It took me a while to navigate the broken floorboards and scattered toys. On the upper floor, I discovered a double bed next to a crib. The last few rays of the setting sun guided me to my new bed. I passed by the crib nervously, even though only a doll and a toy now sit in it. As usual, I look at the photograph of a happy couple with a newborn. All three of them hugged together and smiling, the Milton Basin filling the background. As I try to imagine living that life here, in Great Bear, I hope, against all odds, the entire family is safe, somewhere, somehow. I dream as I sleep, for the first time in over 127 days. In the morning, bright, natural sunlight fills the room. Something catches my eye after breakfast. Behind the photograph, a piece of paper sticks out, hidden between it and the frame. The scribbles I could barely make out, but I could make out the phrases "too late", "won't survive otherwise", "faster if we run" and "I'll be waiting by the gas station if you come to your senses -Josh" I didn't understand until I looked at the crib again. The doll was facing down. Except that isn't a doll. I ran out, nearly falling down the stairs. I tried to lie to myself, saying that no one could or would do that. I was dehydrated and hungry before eating that can of tomato soup for breakfast. I could only keep it down long enough to fall to my knees, unable to move as I let it out. "How far will you go to survive this Quiet Apocalypse?" We've already gone too far before it started. Perhaps we deserve Nature's punishment. I no longer care where I sleep because I never sleep. At least the aurora is awake with me.

Hey, thanks a lot! I almost believed noone would like it enough to comment, lol.

Hey everyone. In case you stuck with this long story (or an attempt at one) and enjoyed it (partially at least?) I wanted to let you know there's a couple easter eggs: The misanthrope lives in Misanthrope's Homestead (duh) for a little while, also the bridge where the fight breaks out is Heartbreak Bridge in Pleasant Valley. Obviously there's a weird love triangle and heartbreak for the protagonist sets in fully after he falls off that bridge. Also his name is Max, and his last stand is just a short distance away from the trapper's cabin. Not to mention that him saying "I'm so sorry" in front of the grave cross is an homage to the very first gameplay footage from the Long Dark alpha. Max is a total creep by the way and he objectifies the woman he "loves", so that was weird for me to write. Maybe a bit too cringy, but I felt I wanted to tell that story about people deliberately hurting each other in the apocalypse. I will be sticking to shorter ones as per usual (the other three are shorter) because I imagine most people probably didn't read because they don't have all day 😆

' ' As I look at the grave, broken, a billion words cross my mind, a thousand reach the tip of my mouth, only three come out. I'm so sorry. ' ' ((some description of graphic violence and harsh language follow, also the pronoun I is used a million times, so bear with me)) These handwritten journals were recovered from his coat. Please, please don't leak that shit online, the Great Bear situation has already caused enough grief. Three families would be devastated if they read this. Not even the cops can know. Understand? - - - - - November 9th, 07:38 pm Jen and I had just moved in late summer, working at the Thomson's Crossing market. Just enough to make ends meet, but sustainable until next spring, maybe even summer. She is very kind and helpful to all the decrepit old people here, those rightfully forgotten by civilization. I help her out every chance I get only so that I can look at those beautiful eyes again. We grow closer every day, so much so that we'll be more than friends soon. Fingers crossed. November 13th, 12:54 pm Her fucking ex Brian shows up, "to help with woodcutting for the winter ahead" he says. Jesus Christ, can't a guy catch a break? Bastard moved to Vancouver after he cheated on her, he shouldn't even be here. Jen assures me she's done with him, but I know different. She's an angel, but she also can be pretty blind sometimes. He will take her from me, and she will suffer again. No, I don't think so. I watch him unload his luggage as Jen finishes talking to me, and then I feel it. A cold blast from the north, the early sign of deep winter, knocks down one of our stands. I am forced to kneel to pick up the fruit off the broken stand on the ground as he passes by. He smirks at me when she responds to his greeting. Jen notices. December 20th, 08:23 am I woke up early today, eager to get some cooking done at the Community Hall. Jen always was better at the farming than the cooking part, so she was tending to the greenhouse. We worked together great that way. Father Thomas had come over to clean some cutlery over the sink, making small talk as he says the weather is about to get even more "pleasant". My first instinct was to reply "Why don't you ask your totally not fake god to help you stay warm?" but I kept silent. Jen likes it here, and I don't want to push her to leave until she's ready. This place was hardly our first choice in employment, I remembered. I went out the back to throw away yesterday's trash when I saw him, chopping some wood. Asshole keeps in shape, gotta hand him that. Brian calls my name as I turn to go back inside. I pretend to listen as he tells me he wants to come clean, that he isn't interested in Jen, that all three of us can be friends and push through what he hears will be the coldest winter in decades. I agree, only to get closer and work out what he really wants. I can expose him, then Brian will go away and Jen will be grateful for all I've done. We will be together, at last. January 16th or 18th or 23rd or 29th, around 11 am or noon or 1pm or 3 pm How could it get so much worse? I remember the sky, the lights, the thunderous crash in the mountains above. We had to run, I told her. Everyone was going crazy just minutes after the heaters were fried. Not enough wood for everyone's stoves, someone said. Even if there was, a crappy stove or fireplace is little comfort to the unnatural cold the aurora accompanied. Father Thomas called to all of us to remain calm and stay together at the Community Hall, but there was no chance in hell I would let Jen stay here to freeze in the cold. We had to reach the highway, seek help. Brian had an idea : instead of going through a dangerous mine, we could reach Mystery Lake through the old Carter Dam, and then find our way to the Coastal Highway through the Ravine. He insisted we stuck together, since his "Forest talker buddies" told him where to go in case of an emergency. Naturally, son of a bitch couldn't just tell us. We had to stay together. I thought to myself there's no other way, for now. I take a few seconds more than usual preparing my pack as I take a quick trip to the Community Hall before moving out. Others started running in all directions along with us but I doubt they made it. So chaotic were their movements, so rushed was their inventory management. Some were old residents, or "mainlanders" like us. Pet animals had better instinct, if you asked me. While in the Dam, I found just what I needed in a flower pot. If it comes to it, that is. We made the journey over the course of a few days, narrowly avoiding wildlife and the cold. Without weapons of any sort, it was truly harrowing. When we reached the Coastal Highway, we went for the island to the east. The other one seems to have a ton of rabbits around, but not as big a dwelling as far as we can see. Not to mention that the west end of the highway is collapsed. This complicates things, with the weather getting worse and all. The house seems well stocked with supplies.We might be stuck here for a while, so that's helpful. I check the porch outside for any signs or personal items of the owner as Jen and Brian walk in. Nothing but creaky, worn down floorboards covered in snow. Four days later, around dusk Jen and I have gotten closer. Soon after settling in, I showed her the MRE I found back in the dam and gave it to her as a present. I also gave her the spare key to my backpack lock and invited her to take anything else she wants, seeing as we have to stick together to make it. I also like Brian more. He seems like a decent, remorseful man after all. I listened to Jen whispering to him that he was treading on thin ice (funny) peeking through the bathroom door as she changed. I'm hurt, but I have to believe he accidentally walked in on her. He exclaimed as much, and he's not his old self, so I believe him. Two days later, around 10pm? or midnight? I can't stay here anymore. Mere minutes ago, I caught them together in her bed. Brian and I were sleeping on the couches downstairs, Jen had the bed on the floor above. I woke up dehydrated, but it seems the need for a glass of water was trivial now. I saw she was pushing him away, while he was naked, trying to lift the blanket she had for the night. As I quietly prepared my backpack to leave, I heard him plead, saying how sorry he was to her, that it was a moment of weakness after drinking dry that old whiskey bottle he found. She was furious at him, shouting he should never have come close to Thomson's Crossing to begin with. Then she turns to me, warns me that she knows. Asking her to clarify, she only says "You wanted to get rid of him since day one, at any cost." No matter how she knows, I hope she also knows that wasn't the case anymore. Whatever he's done, I am done being angry. I hold back my urge to run away into the cold until there's enough light to see. Next morning, just after dawn They both exited the house as I did, looking to explore the other island, finally. Jen was angry at him, but was willing to stay with Brian only until "that house is searched for anything that can be useful until help comes. I'm done with Brian after that, and on my own." I only wish I had told her how I felt earlier, how much I loved her. I respond when she asks where I will go, "Home, I guess". With tears in my eyes, I watch them from the porch as they go scavenging. I take a minute to check I have everything and begin walking, too. Back to Pleasant Valley, where it all started. As I near the highway to make my way to the Raven Falls Trestle, I hear two loud bangs. Gunshots? In the fog, I can barely see where they are, but the sounds came from near where we parted ways. The other island, maybe? An angry occupant who didn't like two strangers approaching their property, like that woman in the Pleasant Valley Farmhouse that has a custom to fire broadhead arrows at visitors? No matter what, I ran away. I was heartbroken, and I couldn't ever go back. One day later, at sunset I was crossing the bridge between the Farmhouse and the huge Barn, back in "Pleasant" Valley. Making my way back to Thomson's Crossing, I was unsure of what to do next. The region changed, so quiet and alien now. Whatever happened that night wasn't temporary like we thought. Is the world itself changing? There's no way to know, no way to contact anyone to confirm or deny it. My thoughts are interrupted by Brian, fucking Brian, shouting at me with Jen right next to him. His left thigh is bandaged, and he can hardly support his weight on his other leg. He says I shot at them both, he calls me a psychopath. She says I have to stop what I'm doing, that I need help. I tell her, stressing every word, I have no idea who the shooter was. Why would I shoot at her, too? The asshole says I missed intentionally, to take him out and scare her into coming back to me. As I try to explain that's not true, he punches me in the face. I stumble with over 90 pounds (40 kg) of supplies pulling me down. I try to steady myself at the side of the bridge, but he wastes no time as he keeps kicking and punching, even as I am dangerously close to falling over. Jen tries to stop him, but he won't have it. Brian hits her with his elbow, and she falls to the ground. My anger is raging, but I have no time to respond. He holds my neck over the edge with his injured leg, trying to pin me down in a position I can't get up from. Half my body is over the edge, too, and my eyes can't meet his, with his boot in my face. I don't even see the surprise on his when I kick him in the other knee, but I know it hurt a lot. He screams in pain, whimpering that he wouldn't kill me, that he was trying to scare me into admission, and Jen comes to help him up. Even now, she refuses to pick a side. I pushed myself slightly backwards when I kicked him in the kneecap, and now I realize what happens next. Jen and I have a brief moment, I wish it could last forever. I can only say "I would never hurt anyone to be with you" before the fall. The snowbank doesn't make it a straight drop, but an uneven block of ice in the frozen river below stops my tumble abruptly, enough to black out. The last words I hear are Brian's: "Jen, the trapper, near the lake". As I drift away, I think I'm actually dying. who fucking cares anymore It took me a few hours or days or whatever to get up. I feared hypothermia was about to set in, but got lucky with a small barn just a short distance before I crossed the bridge. It was time to end this. I rested for a while and headed towards the path we took the first time, through the other side of the dam. My condition worsened every minute, but I had to get to her, those perfect eyes being a constant reminder of the love and warmth that she projects. Maybe she will see what he did to me and realize how much I care. She will, she will. I found the lake, the nearby Camp Office and the map of the region pinned to a notification board within. I could see only one point a trapper could be as far away from people as possible but as close to animals as possible. I made my way there, and what is there to greet me but..not just footsteps, but also blood. A lot of it sprayed around, two trails leading to the lone cabin ahead. I fear for Jen's safety, in Brian's company even more so. I run through the snow as much as my body can through broken ribs, the frozen air punishing my lungs for trying. My strained heart pounds in my head, but I have no more time left, I have to hurry. I finally make it and see one body, one body that belongs to the filthiest fuck that's ever lived. He is lying just a few feet away from the cabin, on his back, looking up at the sky as a blizzard is about to sweep through. The first few snowflakes begin to fall. I yell at him, barely keeping my words coherent. I want to know where she is, but all he says is the trapper is away hunting, so all their cries for help went unanswered. He is bloody all over, body parts bitten left and right, and there's shock in his eyes. I press on the shot leg to wake him up, and repeat the question: "Where is she?". He cries in pain as I hear another voice to the right that tells me to stop. Jen, my poor Jen, hidden under snow and even more badly mauled. With a weakness in her voice, she explains how a huge bear with arrows sticking out its back attacked them both, ambushed them just as they got close to the cabin. Brian whimpers through a sentence, telling me how he wishes he could've helped her if he wasn't shot.The fucking asshole pretends he knows how important and precious she is. I look at her again. Only now I notice one of her eyes is not in its socket anymore. "You fucking selfish coward. I won't let you get away with this. I WON'T!" Before I know it, the revolver is in my hand, pointing at his head. Jen must be mortified, but I can't check right now. I talk as fast as I can, because he doesn't have long and I want to see the fear in his eyes. I explain that I found it in Carter Hydro Dam next to an MRE, how I hid it under a board in the crappy porch, how I realized Jen was reading my journal with that backpack key I gave her. I knew she kept Brian up to date, afraid of what I would do. I didn't intend for her to read it, so I had to write bullshit about how he was a better guy, so he wouldn't anticipate it. Even lying about the gunshots as insurance, in case she read my journal in the future. In fact, I planned to end him the minute the lights in the sky fried everything. This gift from the stars, the unnatural aurora borealis, gave me all the cover I needed. I could have Jen and send his abusive ass to hell, without anyone knowing. I would just shoot him under cover of fog, fire a warning shot at Jen and she would run to where I told her I would be. We would have made it, I shout at him, if I was a better shot, if I hadn't missed his fucking head. I'm no sharpshooter, so I guess less than two feet (half a meter) will do. I see Jen just as frightened as he now is, and my heart sinks. I sit down near her, my revolver still pointed at him, and I'm begging her to understand. She's barely audible now, swearing she would never make a choice, no matter what he or I did, good or bad. I assure her that when he's gone, she won't have to. I struggle to stand back up, and get ready to take the shot. I close my eyes for a second to concentrate, and even though I imagined him trying to get up and stop me, he only says "If you had given her that gun, she would be safe. From the bear, and from y- - The revolver kicks back in my hand. I know I didn't miss, because his pathetic crying has stopped. Jen looks at me like I'm a monster. I try to prove to her I am anything but, showing her the adrenaline stim I took from the Community hall before we left. What does it matter to those lost souls anyway? Hardly any of them could have survived by now, what is one stim missing when the only person who needs it is here? I am about to administer it when two bloody hands hold me back. "This will help you! Buy you time until I get you some help!"."Get..away...from...me!", a ghost with Jen's voice talks back. She's so frail now, there's no time! She's only confused, I assure myself. But those weak, precious arms don't want to move. By the time I make them move, another sentence makes me freeze in place. "I wish...I wish I...". Then nothing. I realize why her hands no longer hold mine away. There is nothing now in her eye. It's frozen in place, looking at ever increasing amounts of snow as it falls. I hold back a bitter scream, refusing to mourn until I make it right. My poor, sweet Jen. If I hadn't fucked up, I would've been here instead of him. You'd be safe. I dig through the snow whatever way I can: hands, revolver, hands again. I feel my breath weaken further as I finish digging the second hole. One because it's evidence, the other because I can't let my sweet Jen be defiled further. I will finish this, even though it's the last thing I can do. The stim is in my hand, but I rest it on her chest before I push snow and rocks over it. There's no reason for me to use it. Standing up feels like an impossible feat now. I take one last look at her grave, complete with a crudely made cross. As I look at the grave, broken, a billion words cross my mind, a thousand reach the tip of my mouth, only three come out. "I'm so sorry". I tell her, as if she's still here: "I wish I was with you sooner, too". I walk away with new strength, a new goal, certain I can keep going to get back to the camp office, maybe find a way to start a fire, burn this last journal entry, and come to rest back here, with her. I think of how much stronger she makes me, as I fall face down a hill away from the Trapper's Cabin, under a featureless, small tree. I don't think I can make any body part stand again, but I feel sleepy and the blizzard is beginning to cover me up in snow, so it's OK. Change of plan, I guess. As much as I hated everyone, as much as you stupidly pulled away from me, as much as I should have forced you to see it: I love you, Jen. . . . Jen's Diary , August 29th, 18:37 Warm day today. Pensive Pond is looking like a dream for picnics, butterflies floating and birds were chirping.... Uhhh...New at this journal thing, to be honest. Hell, I'm not even sure I'll remember to do it tomorrow. Anyway, I think this needs to be somewhere written down, so that I will remember, at least. There's something wrong with my taste in men, isn't there? Brian texted me , saying he wants a job at Great Bear, where I literally arrived yesterday. Must have seen my Instagram upload, that creep. I said no about ten times, but he swears he doesn't want me back, just that he needs someone to help with moving so far away from Vancouver. Whatever the case may be, I won't help at all. Of course he'll come, and I will remind myself of the day he left me the minute he tries anything again. No ifs or buts. To be honest, Brian's hardly any trouble compared to the man I'm here with. To be honest, Max is scaring me. He looks at my eyes, but somehow also through them. He...he examines my face, my hands, my legs, when I'm not looking right at him. Not even in a creepy "I don't wait for permission" way, just like...like I'm a porcelain doll and he rushes to make sure noone dropped me or cracked any pieces of me. I am genuinely terrified at times. What would he do to Brian, if he showed up? I wanted someone to talk to away from home, perhaps more than a friend, but this...No way. After next summer ends, I am so gone. Alone. He respects my wishes enough. I have to believe that he won't hurt me, even if...I told him I can hardly look at him? God, Max, I wish I never met you.