Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/15vhdlw/i_am_currently_trapped_inside_the_chernobyl/
August 21st 2017
Hey there,
It’s Lawrence, still somehow alive and not rotting away somewhere.
Whoever’s still out there, giving a fuck, I again welcome you to the absolute shitshow that my life has now become. It’s been a couple of days since my last message, and I’ve also got a whole lot of thoughts swirling around in this fucked-up head of mine.
But before I dive into that mess, I just want to say that I’ve noticed some of you reaching out, and it means more to me than I can put into fucking words, or even thoughts for that matter.
I know you guys are out there, reading this twisted saga of mine. A reminder that I’m not completely alone in this fucked up nightmare. You have no idea how relieved I am, how grateful I am, that somehow, despite the odds, you guys have not just decided to simply just not give a fuck and still listen to my messed-up ramblings. I wanna thank you for that. Truly.
So, let me tell you how it happened. A couple of days ago, just a few hours after releasing my last message. I was stuck at that damn desk, filling out those never-ending stacks of paperwork for Captain Petrov. You know the drill. Anyways, as I was scribbling away, my PDA started freaking out on the desk.
I looked over, and I saw Messages.
Messages from this “encrypted” network I had just posted on.
Messages from real people.
From you guys.
From the outside world.
I couldn’t fucking believe it. My heart started pounding as I frantically grabbed my PDA, ignoring the look of confusion that Captain Petrov shot me. I couldn’t care less what that uptight asshole thought. Messages, real messages, were popping up on my screen. I was holding onto this PDA with my fucking life.
You have no idea how much that truly meant to me. A connection to something beyond this mess. In a place where sanity is a fleeting concept, those messages were like a beacon of normalcy, reminding me that there’s an actual world out there that’s not filled with horrific mutants and anomalies.
It’s like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders, even if just a bit. And let me tell you, that’s a fucking revelation when you’re knee-deep in the shit.
I swear, if this “encrypted” network hadn’t worked, I don’t know what would’ve happened to my sanity. God knows what would’ve became of me.
I want to say thank you. From the absolute bottom of my heart. Thank you for reaching out, for making me feel like I’m not just another lost soul wandering this mess. I know your words have been few – how could they not be, given the situation – but they’ve made a world of a difference.
I want to ask you to keep sending messages. Please. Keep reminding me that there’s something beyond this hell, something to keep fighting for.
I know this might sound cheesy as hell but, I’ve got a new fire in me now, to survive, not just for myself, but for my comrades, for my family, for everyone who’s stuck in this hellhole. I want to make it out of this mess, back to my family, back to some semblance of a normal life. I can’t even put into words how badly I just want to see them again, to hold them close and tell them how much I love them and that I’m sorry.
Alright, alright, enough of that mushy shit. I swear, I’m not usually one to get all sentimental. But seriously, thank you.
So, you must be wondering what the hell I’m up to now, where I am, and what the fuck I’m doing. Well, let me fill you in.
As I write this, I’m perched up on the rooftop of a high-rise apartment building, playing the role of a lookout for our mercenary compound, you know, the one that doesn’t have any fucking chairs? Can’t say I’m thrilled about it.
And, why am I up here, you ask? Well, I volunteered, because there’s apparently some threat of an attack from a “Monolith” or some shit like that, as if I already didn’t have enough things to worry about.
And guess who was assigned to keep me company up here? None other than our good ol’ friend Zoran. Yeah, he is right here with me – the sometimes funny pain in the ass. Even after what happened to Yuri – and trust me, we’re all still trying to cope with that shit – Zoran’s trying to keep up the facade of being his usual self, but, I can see it in his eyes. He’s hurting, just like the rest of us. But that doesn’t stop him from doing crazy shit or cracking jokes that are so inappropriate you can’t help but laugh. I don’t know whether to just deck him or laugh at his idiocy.
Case in point: A few minutes prior to writing this, the dude decided it was a brilliant idea to take a piss off the roof, ONTO AN ANOMALY. Yeah, you read that right, the guy’s pissing on anomalies now. Just what we fucking needed.
No, seriously, I couldn’t make this shit up even if I tried. I’m sitting there, scoping out the surrounding area, and suddenly, I hear the sound of this stream of liquid hitting something with a faint splat. I look over, and there’s Zoran, pissing off the damn roof like he’s on vacation.
Why? I swear, I secretly hoped that he’d trip and fall right into the piss-soaked mess he just created. Call me twisted, but that would be some good karma, right?
Can you imagine being being that one unlucky fuck that ends up stumbling into that exact anomaly, and the last thing you feel, touch, or smell while getting ripped apart is Zoran’s fucking piss?
Yeah, it’s a disturbing mental image, I know.
Sorry, this got a little weird.
But let’s move on from that weird mental image, shall we? I apologize if I got a little carried away there. This place does “things” to you.
So, unlike Zoran, I’m actually doing some work. I’ve got my rifle in my hands, and I’m scanning around the compound for any signs of trouble, occasionally jotting this message down on my PDA. And what’s Zoran doing right now, you ask?
Well, he’s off to the side trying to fix the busted charging handle on his rifle. And let me tell you, I’ve heard sounds come out of that guy that I never expected to hear in my fucking life as he struggles to MacGyver that shit back together. Cursing, grunting – seriously, it’s like he’s auditioning for an “adult” video or something, if you catch my drift. Zoran’s face is all twisted in concentration, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and I’m just on the verge of losing it.
So, yeah, here I am, perched on this damn rooftop, playing lookout and babysitter all at once. But before I get too comfortable in my ranting, let me dive into what’s been going on in the last few days.
Remember how I said shit’s been going down? Well, get ready, because here comes the rundown. After my previous message, I managed to finish up all that paperwork for Captain Petrov, and the man himself decided to bestow a fucking quest upon me. Lucky me.
So, Petrov, gives me a job – deliver something to these Ecologist guys. I’ve ran into these guys once. (The incident I am going to talk about).
So, a quick rundown: Just a bunch of pacifistic nerds, who cozy up with the military, with fancy guns and equipment, that I guarantee have never shot a gun.
Now usually, I wouldn’t touch anything that’s remotely connected to the Ukrainian Military with a ten-meter pole, but here’s the kicker – Captain Petrov was willing to cough up a hefty amount just for delivering a little container. And I don’t care how morally flexible you think I am, money talks in this godforsaken place.
This container? It’s a big one, silver-colored, and apparently holds something that the Ecologists would happily give their left nut for. And you know what they say, when nerds beg, it’s probably something worth a pretty penny.
(I don’t know if they actually say that).
So, Petrov then calls in Zoran and Sergiy before briefing all of us. After the briefing, he hands me this damn container and the coordinates of the FOB, scribbled on a paper, and just like that, we were on our way.
The sun was starting to dip below the horizon as we exited our compound. We knew we had to move somewhat quickly – the Zone isn’t the safest place to be, especially in the dark.
The beginning portion of the trip was almost weirdly pleasant, all things considered.
So there we were, trudging along, hauling this big-ass container like it’s no big deal. Mutants were scuttling around in the distance, anomalies twinkling like twisted stars.
But then it happened. Zoran – good old Zoran – almost shits himself because a giant mutated cockroach stumbles onto his damn shoe. I mean, this thing was like the size of a small dog, with more legs than sense.
The man’s screams were like a fucking banshee, and Sergiy – the brave, composed leader – notices what’s going on and he joined Zoran in his panicked screaming. So, there they were, 2 grown-ass men, screaming like schoolgirls, and what was I doing? Laughing my damn ass off.
And then, just to complete the shitshow, they both whip out their guns and unload a whole magazine into the damn cockroach. Bullets flying, echoes ringing – all for a giant, mutated bug that’s now splattered all over the Zone. But hey, I guess it’s moments like these that make you forget – even if just for a little while – the constant threat of death and the ever-present weirdness of the Zone. I mean, how can you not find some twisted humor in the fact that even the most badass guys can be brought down by something as mundane as a mutated insect?
Okay, I’m getting off track here. Back to the mission.
So, there we were, me, Sergiy, and Zoran, we’d made it to the FOB just as night fell, and let me tell you, the whole scene was straight out of some bad horror film. The area was shrouded in shadows. But, duty called, or rather Petrov’s paycheck did.
A hundred meters away from the front gate of the FOB, we got our first real look at the place. Picture this: three-meter-high stone walls encircling the area, with a massive gate dead center. Watchtowers surrounded the entrance, equipped with floodlights that were sweeping the surroundings. The whole setup screamed “front entrance.”
Beyond the gate and walls stood what looked like a heavily fortified and glorified concrete tent. I’m not even kidding, it was like a damn bunker. As we moved closer, one of the floodlights suddenly swung our way, blinding us to shit. We let go of our guns, letting them hang on our slings, and quickly put our hands up.
The sound of faint yelling and shouting in Ukrainian filled the air, and whoever was up there sounded fucking pissed. I glanced at Sergiy, my eyes narrowed in desperation, and he shot me a look that said, “Keep your shit together.” I mean, who was he kidding? I was hanging by a thread by now.
Sergiy turned to us, his voice low and urgent, and said that we needed to take cautious steps toward the front gate.
At that moment, I was convinced that Sergiy had lost his damn mind. I mean, who walks toward armed guards pointing floodlights and guns at you?
But hey, desperate times call for desperate measures. I took a deep breath, my heart pounding like a damn war drum, and began to move. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heartbeat and the distant rustle of wind. It felt like every step was a step closer to a potential bullet to the brain.
Sergiy, Zoran, and I were like a bunch of damn hostages, caught in the glare of that damn floodlight that was still blinding the hell out of us.
And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, as we got even closer, the yelling and shouting grew louder. Oh, but don’t you worry, it wasn’t just one or two voices anymore. Nah, it was a goddamn chorus of angry Ukrainians screaming at us. To say I was shitting bricks would be a massive fucking understatement. In that moment, every bone in my body was convinced that this was it. This was how I was gonna fucking die, surrounded by a bunch of pissed-off soldiers in front of some shady-ass FOB. My life was about to end in the most anticlimactic way imaginable, and I hadn’t even made it to the climax.
As if things weren’t chaotic enough, when we were about ten meters from the entrance, even more voices joined the fray, shouting at us in Ukrainian like a damn symphony of doom. The floodlight was still blinding us, and all I could hear were those voices, a jumbled mess of anger and confusion.
Sergiy was tense as a coiled spring, and I could feel his panic radiating off him like a damn heatwave. Zoran, that brave or maybe just plain nuts son of a bitch, was standing there like a deer in the headlights, his face practically pleading for mercy. And as for me? Well, let’s just say I was shitting myself.
Just when I thought we were fucked..
I suddenly heard it — the sound of multiple pairs of boots pounding against the ground.
Heavy, rapid thuds.
Still blinded by the damn floodlights, my heart practically pounding out of my damn chest, I was helpless. And then, in a sudden rush of violence, something cold and hard smashed into my cheek. The impact was harsh, sending me sprawling to the ground with a pained grunt.
I knew I wasn’t alone in this unfortunate trip to the dirt. I suddenly heard the pained grunts of Sergiy and Zoran, the sound of their bodies hitting the ground mingling with my own as we landed, helpless and disoriented.
The voices were now piercing, demands shouted in Ukrainian that I didn’t understand. My mind was racing, my heart pounding a fierce rhythm of terror. And then, like a twisted crescendo in this twisted nightmare, I felt something cold press against the back of my head.
In that split second, a flurry of thoughts raced through my mind. Images of my family, memories of Zofia’s smile and the sound of my kids’ laughter, all rushed through my head like a movie on fast-forward. I was about to die because I didn’t know any fucking Ukrainian.
Just as I was bracing myself to get my fucking brains blown out on the concrete below, something happened that defied all reason.
In the midst of the chaos, just as I was convinced I was about to meet my maker in the most undignified way possible, a new sound pierced through the commotion. Three voices — frantic, desperate Ukrainian voices — shouting from the direction of the front gate. The strange part? Their shouts didn’t carry anger or hostility. No, it was more like a plea, an urgent and calming desperation that I couldn’t wrap my head around. They were yelling something, as if they were trying to reach some sort of agreement.
And then, the person who had me at gunpoint, the one with the cold barrel pressed to the back of my head, seemed to react to those new voices. Their shouts turning from assertive demands to confused, frantic responses. I was on the ground, still blinded by the damn floodlights, with a gun to my head, and these new voices had turned the situation on its head.
Was this some sort of last-minute reprieve? Or had we somehow wandered into the middle of a Ukrainian standoff? I couldn’t fucking tell you.
But then, as if some twisted comedic joke, the cold touch of the gun barrel vanished from the back of my head. Just like that, gone, in an instant.
My mind reeled, struggling to catch up with this sudden turn of events. And then, as if I were nothing more than a fucking marionette being yanked by invisible strings, I felt hands grip the back of my tactical vest. Before I could process what was happening, I was jerked upright, my body protesting against the rough treatment.
The floodlight that had been blinding us was suddenly aimed away, plunging us into darkness once again. My eyes burned as they adjusted to the sudden change, and I turned my head to the side, squinting in the darkness. There, to my right, I saw Sergiy and Zoran. They too were being hauled to their feet, their movements as clumsy and awkward as mine. Their faces were masks of confusion and panic.
In the midst of the swirling chaos and uncertainty, a sudden glimmer of hope appeared. It came in the form of three silhouettes rushing toward us from the direction of the gate. My heart skipped a beat, a strange mixture of relief and skepticism flooding my senses.
However, these newcomers were unarmed, with gear that looked more “scientific” than something suited for combat, a stark contrast to the soldiers who had moments ago held us at gunpoint. They carried medical supplies, the glint of bandages and medical tools catching the faint light. My mind struggled to process the surreal sight — strangers, carrying medical equipment and hurrying toward us with concern etched across their faces.
As the silhouettes drew closer, their features began to come into focus, I noticed their patches. The patches were not that of the Ukrainian Military, instead, the patches were a mix of blue and red, with a potion bottle or some shit in the center of it. They were the Ecologists by the looks of it. I watched as they navigated the dimly lit space with a sense of urgency, their movements purposeful and confident despite the chaotic situation.
They shouted in Ukrainian, their voices carrying a mixture of desperation and authority. It was clear that they were trying to defuse the situation, to prevent bloodshed before it was too late.
The atmosphere crackled with tension, and the seconds stretched into an agonizing eternity. It was as if time itself was holding its breath.
And then, with a reluctant sigh, the three Ukrainian soldiers lowered their weapons and walked back towards the gate, with the soldiers not looking back. The relief was palpable, like a weight lifted from our shoulders. It was a fragile peace, born out of necessity more than anything else, but it was enough to prevent the situation from spiraling into violence.
The Ecologists gathered around us, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. Their Ukrainian was rapid, their voices filled with urgency as they checked us for injuries, their hands gentle yet efficient.
“Are you okay?” one of them asked me in heavily accented English, their voice tinged with worry. I nodded, my breathing still frantic, unable to find my voice.
I then turned my head, exchanging glances with Sergiy and Zoran, our eyes speaking volumes about the relief we all felt in that moment. The tension that had gripped us began to ease, replaced by a sense of cautious optimism.
The Ecologist who had been tending to me stepped back, offering a brief but heartfelt apology in his heavily accented English. His words were sincere, his eyes reflecting the weight of what had transpired. I nodded in response, still struggling to find my voice from the adrenaline and fear.
“I have the container you’re looking for,” My words shaky and rushed. By this point, I just wanted to be done with this place.
The Ecologist nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes locking onto mine for a moment before he turned to his fellow colleagues. They exchanged a series of nods. I watched as their expressions shifted, a complex interplay of determination and empathy.
After what felt like an eternity, the Ecologist who had been tending to me looked back at us, his gaze unwavering. He motioned for us to follow him. It was an invitation, a command, wrapped in the enigma of his intentions.
My eyes widened, the unease and fear slowly coming back. A voice inside me screamed with skepticism. Was this some sort of twisted joke? Did these fucks really expect us to waltz into that FOB after what had just transpired? The idea seemed nothing short of insane.
I looked over at Sergiy, who met my gaze with a nod. We were guests in their domain.
With a deep breath, I turned back to the Ecologist who had spoken, my voice still trembling with a mixture of anxiety and determination. “Lead the way,” I said.
As the Ecologist nodded, he told us to keep our hands up, telling us that they weren’t going to shoot us, but that the Soldiers might get a bit antsy.
Thanks. How comforting.
Me, Zoran and Sergiy nodded reluctantly, putting our hands up. The Ecologist nodded back as he turned around and began to move towards the front gate. I fell into step behind him, Sergiy and Zoran close beside me.
As we followed the Ecologists, I felt an even deeper sense of unease settle over me. The darkness around us seemed to stretch endlessly, the shadows dancing with a malevolent life of their own. It was as if the Exclusion Zone itself held its breath, awaiting our next move with a mix of anticipation and dread.
As we approached the gated entrance, I became acutely aware of the presence of the Ukrainian soldiers who had moments ago been moments away from executing us. They were gathered around, guns clenched tightly in hand, their hostile gazes fixed upon us like daggers.
With cautious steps, we slowly approached the entrance to the fortified bunker, guided by the Ecologist who led was tending to me. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of unease and curiosity swirling within me. The Ecologist in the front turned a valve on the door, releasing a hiss of compressed air. The door creaked open with a metallic groan, revealing the stark contrast between the grim darkness outside and the bright, fluorescent-lit interior.
The three Ecologists strained to hold the door open, their faces etched with effort as they motioned for us to enter quickly.
It felt like a moment straight out of a thriller as they held the door open, as if we were about to step into a trap carefully laid out for us.
I exchanged glances with Zoran and Sergiy, our apprehension mirroring each other’s. Nevertheless, we moved forward, stepping across the threshold into the illuminated chamber. The Ecologists released the door with strained grunts, allowing it to close with a mechanical thud behind us. It was as if we had crossed a threshold into another world, leaving the darkness and uncertainty of the outside behind.
The Ecologists took the lead once more, and we followed suit, our hands lowering as we went deeper into the complex. The hallway was well-lit, its walls adorned with caution posters in Ukrainian. The air inside was cool and sterile, a stark contrast to the damp, chilling breeze that had greeted us beyond the walls.
We passed through an automatic door on our left. Inside, we found ourselves in a room filled with futuristic-looking machinery, emitting soft hums and blinking lights.
As we entered the room, the gaze of the working Ecologists shifted from their tasks to us, their eyes filled with anticipation and intrigue. It was as if they had been expecting our arrival. The energy in the room was charged with a sense of discovery and possibility.
The lead Ecologist approached one of the devices, interacting with it in a series of swift, practiced movements before turning to me.
With a thoughtful expression, he directed a question towards me, his Ukrainian-accented English laced with curiosity. Wanting to know about the container. Without any hesitation, I handed it over. The other Ecologists quickly gathered around, their eyes fixed on the container as it was carefully placed inside the peculiar machine. A sense of unease gnawed at me as I watched their expressions shift, their attention focused on the object.
After a few moments, one of the Ecologists spoke up, his tone calm but firm. “You can leave now,”. It was a dismissal, a signal that our part in this encounter was over.
I nodded in response, a mixture of relief and apprehension washing over me. I exchanged a look with Zoran and Sergiy, their expressions mirroring my own. It was clear that we were all on the same page — our time within the depths of this enigmatic place had come to an end. We retraced our steps through the winding hallways. We moved with purpose, the urgency of our departure pushing us forward.
And then it hit me — the realization that those Ukrainian soldiers awaited us beyond that door. We would have to traverse the gauntlet of Ukrainian soldiers, each one harboring resentment and hostility towards our presence in this forsaken place. Through the very same soldiers who had stared us down with weapons at the ready.
I turned to Sergiy, a knot forming in my stomach as I spoke of the imminent challenge that lay ahead. He met my gaze with a resolute nod. The tension in the air was palpable, a growing sense of trepidation that only intensified as we approached the entrance.
As we approached the door, Zoran’s hand twisted the valve on the it, with it releasing a sharp hiss of air. Stepping out of the confines of the entrance, our eyes met the penetrating gazes of the Ukrainian soldiers stationed all around the FOB. Their expressions were laced with a mix of animosity and hostility, as if they were ready to pounce on any excuse to unleash their aggression upon us.
We walked forward cautiously, each step a deliberate movement. My heart pounded in my chest, its rhythm a harsh reminder of the danger that surrounded us. We were outnumbered, surrounded by soldiers who clearly held no love for us or our presence.
As we continued, the tension seemed to tighten like a noose around our necks. I could feel the eyes of the soldiers upon us, their intense gazes following our every move.
The soldiers were gripping their guns with white-knuckled intensity, their fingers hovering near the triggers, ready to unleash a barrage of bullets at the slightest provocation. Every instinct screamed at me to maintain a facade of calm, to show no sign of weakness or fear. But, eventually we made it through the gate we entered from.
But, obviously, nothing can be that fucking simple.
There we were, me, Zoran, and Sergiy, thinking we’re finally out of the jaws of death as we stroll away from that damn Ecologist FOB. Relief is washing over me, the tension in my shoulders easing up a bit.
As we’re walking away, suddenly this loud voice cuts through the air. And when I say loud, I mean condescending as fuck, with a side of anger. We all turn around, exchanging these weary glances like, “What the fuck now?”
Lo and behold, there’s this Ukrainian soldier, rocking a blue beret like he’s some kind of fashion icon. He’s got this cocky grin on his face, taunting us like we’re a bunch of lost puppies. He’s spouting off about how if we ever dare to come back, our Ecologist “boyfriends” won’t be there to save us. I’m just standing there, keeping my mouth shut because, let’s face it, it’s not like we’re on great terms with the Ukrainian military anyway.
As this soldier is going on and on about random shit, I look at Zoran and Sergiy. And holy shit, I swear I could see smoke coming out of their ears, their expressions were pure, unfiltered anger and rage.
And before I can even process what’s happening, Sergiy pulls his damn gun out.
Sergiy pulls the trigger.
In an instant that Ukrainian soldier is on the ground, fucking lifeless. I’m just standing there, mouth open, shocked as all fuck. Like, I knew Sergiy had a temper, and I’ve seen some messed up fuckery, but this was some next-level shit.
All hell broke loose. Gunfire erupts from the Ecologist FOB. Ukrainian soldiers screaming and shouting at us in, bullets and tracers are zipping past us, and I’m suddenly diving behind the cover. It’s like time slows down, but in a bad way. My heart is pounding, feeling like I’m about to pass out from the adrenaline.
My hands were trembling, trying to return fire in the midst of this chaos. The gunfire is so goddamn loud that it’s ringing in my damn ears. And all the while, I’m screaming at Sergiy, like, “Are you out of your damn mind?” But Sergiy, he’s not fucking answering me. He’s just out there, still in cover, still firing like a complete fucking lunatic.
Bullets kept flying, and my ears were ringing like a church bell on goddamn steroids. Zoran and I were just doing our best to return fire, hoping to hell that our shots were hitting something.
And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see this Ukrainian soldier making a fucking sprint toward us.
Time slowed down, like in those fucking movies, and I’m just staring at this guy. My sights gradually settle on his chest, and I’ve got a clear shot. It’s like the whole damn world is on pause for a split second, and in that moment, I’m faced with a decision that I’ve never had to make before, even in a place like this.
I’m sure you’ve heard stories about soldiers who’ve been in the shit, and they talk about that moment when they have to take a life. Yeah, well, I was there, in the middle of nowhere, bullets flying all around me, and I had to make that choice.
I pulled the fucking trigger.
And that soldier, he just drops. He hits the ground like a sack of shit, and the sound that comes out of him is something I’ll never forget. It’s this pained, agonized scream that echoes in the air. He’s writhing on the ground, and I can see the life draining out of him.
In that moment, I’m frozen. I’m staring at him, and I can’t help but think, I just fucking did that. I just took a life. It’s like this wave of regret and sadness crashes over me, and I feel sick to my stomach. My hands are trembling, my heart is pounding even harder than before, and I’m questioning everything, as I watch this poor bastard writhing on the ground, clutching his chest.
So, then just when I thought things couldn’t get any more messed up, Zoran decides to remind me that we’re still in the thick of it. I mean, I was still grappling with the fact that I’d taken a life, and here he goes, snapping me out of it like a swift slap to the face. I hear this sickening thud. I whip my head around just in time to see Zoran, who’s holding his gun like a club, deliver a savage blow to the face of this Ukrainian soldier who’d managed to fucking sneak up on us.
The soldier drops like a sack of bricks, clutching his bloody nose and groaning in pain. And Zoran, with that crazy look in his eyes, doesn’t stop there. He’s on the guy, putting him in a chokehold and basically rendering him useless, with Zoran screaming at me to maybe GTFO. I look over at Sergiy, who’s still sending rounds downrange. I scream at him that we’re bugging out, and for the first time in this chaos, Sergiy looks my way and nods. His eyes are wild, his face smeared with dirt and sweat, but he’s nodding.
Sergiy then hauls ass toward us, bullets whizzing and impacting all around him. When Sergiy makes it to us, we all share a quick nod as we start moving back quickly. Zoran’s dragging the choking soldier along like a ragdoll, like a fucking meat shield, and I’m running beside Sergiy, the sound of gunfire all around us. Bullets are snapping past, impacting the ground and the walls, and I’m pretty sure I felt one graze my shoulder. But in that moment, it’s like survival instinct takes over, and my heart is pounding in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps as we move back.
We’re making a mad dash for it, bullets zipping by, and I’m not even sure how the hell we’re still standing. Zoran’s using that soldier as a damn meat shield, and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Sergiy and I are still laying down covering fire, emptying out our mags as we go. It’s a goddamn hailstorm of bullets, chaos and fear all around us. But somehow, through sheer luck, determination, or maybe just the insane adrenaline coursing through our veins, we make it out of that hellhole.
Zoran, Sergiy, me, and even the damn Ukrainian soldier who’s probably regretting his life choices big time right about now. We stumble out of the firefight, somehow still alive and somewhat in one fucking piece.
As we finally put some distance between us and the FOB, the gunfire begins to fade. The night air is cool, and I can feel my heart still racing like a runaway freight train.
We find ourselves near a dilapidated building, our haven of sorts from the madness we’ve just survived.
Adrenaline is still coursing through my veins, but begins to fade, replaced by a creeping sense of shock. My hands are trembling, and I can see that Sergiy is visibly shaken too. Zoran’s breathing heavily, his grip on the Ukrainian soldier still tight.
Zoran suddenly lets go of him, throwing him to the ground. He levels his gun at the guy. The soldier’s practically begging for his life in Ukrainian, his voice shaking with terror. Zoran’s screaming at him, demanding to know why he shouldn’t just put a bullet in his skull right then and there.
And in that moment, I’m torn. Part of me wants to feel sorry for the guy. He’s a soldier like us, just following orders, right? But then again, he’s the one who tried to kill us, who shot at us without any hesitation. I can feel a surge of anger building up inside me, a mixture of fear and fury that’s been simmering all night. I slowly raise my gun, my finger resting on the trigger. The soldier’s pleading gets louder, more desperate, and a voice in the back of my head tells me that he’s just trying to save his own skin.
I don’t want to be a killer. I don’t want to end another person’s life when they’re unarmed. But HE chose to pull that trigger. He chose to be a part of this.
But before I can make my decision, Zoran screams at the soldier, and a loud gunshot echoes through the night. I jump slightly as I look around to see that Zoran’s shot hit the ground right beside the soldier’s head. The soldier’s crying now, sobbing and trembling on the ground.
Sergiy’s lowered his gun, his face pale. Zoran’s still pointing his weapon at the guy, his own face a mix of rage and triumph. As for me? I’m still aimed in on the fuck.
The soldier by this point is a mess, his face streaked with dirt and tears. He’s whimpering, his hands held up in surrender — a scared, desperate human being.
I don’t regret to admit that I still despised that little fucker. For trying to kill me. He chose to shoot at us, at me, and it’s HIS fucking fault.
However, as if the tension of our situation wasn’t enough, the world around us suddenly erupts into chaos of a different kind. The ground beneath us rumbles, and I swear I can feel it vibrating through my bones. A distant explosion shakes the air, making my heart race even faster, and our heads whip around to see an otherworldly sight on the horizon. Massive fucking clouds, glowing red and orange like some eldritch force, begin to roll across the sky, transforming the night sky into a twisted canvas of reds and oranges.
And suddenly, air sirens begin wailing around us, the ominous sound coming from all directions. And then, the night is filled with the chilling howls and barks of mutated creatures, a cacophony of despair and chaos. I can feel the fear coursing through my veins, mixing with the adrenaline from the firefight.
But the sight that truly freezes my blood is the lightning. It’s not like any lightning I’ve ever seen before — massive and jagged, streaking across the sky with an almost supernatural intensity. Their eerie glow casting a sickly light over everything. Zoran lowers his gun, his face a mix of horror and disbelief. Sergiy’s already backing away, his eyes wide with terror. I’m frozen in place, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. We were all watching as the world around us descends into madness.
And then, the screams. Frantic, distant, desperate. I hear them from all directions, the sound of people who have lost all hope. Gunshots ring out too, some close, some far away. It doesn’t take long to realize what’s happening — people are ending their own lives, choosing to take a bullet rather than face whatever is about to happen.
My mind races, until realising what the fuck is happening.
This is a fucking EMISSION — an unpredictable, deadly phenomenon that occurs within the Exclusion Zone. I’ve heard stories, tales of those caught in its path, their bodies twisted and warped by its energy in horrific ways, their minds shattered.
The reality of our situation crashes down on me like a shit ton of bricks. We’re out in the open, with nowhere to hide. The ominous clouds are growing closer, and the sounds of imminent destruction surround us.
With the world around us descending into chaos, I find myself faced with a choice that I never thought I’d have to make. The Ukrainian Soldier, his eyes reflecting sheer desperation and terror, is a stark reminder of the darkness that can reside within us all. And while a part of me feels a pang of guilt, the hatred that’s been brewing within me doesn’t just fucking vanish.
My gun is steady in my hands, and I fix my gaze on the soldier who once wanted to end our lives. It’s a twisted, barbaric act, but in the midst of this nightmarish situation, it feels like a necessary one, to teach the fuck a lesson. I pull the trigger, and the crack of the gunshot mingles with the cacophony of chaos around us.
The soldier’s agonized screams pierce the air as the bullets tear through his legs. He’s writhing on the ground, a tortured and broken figure caught in the throes of pain. And as I watch him suffer, a part of me feels a grim satisfaction. It’s justice, of sorts — a small retribution for the fear he instilled in us, for the lives he would have gladly taken.
As the soldier’s wails pierce the air, I turn to Zoran and Sergiy. Their eyes meet mine, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. I shout at Zoran and Sergiy to haul ass, and we scramble into the dilapidated building nearby. The door slams shut behind us, and we do our best to barricade it, our hearts pounding in our chests. The room is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls as lightning continues to tear through the sky outside.
As I sit against the door, the sound of the soldier’s suffering becomes almost unbearable. KEYWORD: Almost. I look over at Sergiy and Zoran, their faces etched with a mixture of disgust and disappointment, the sound of the soldier’s agonised screams and the emission creating a surreal backdrop. I know they don’t condone what I did, but, honestly I could not give two fucks. That soldier was going to kill us, and I feel absolutely no fucking guilt or remorse. After all, I’ve got a fucking family to fight for here.
The building starts trembling, the very fabric of reality quaking as the emission draws near its peak. Outside, the sky burns with an otherworldly light, the colors twisting and contorting into grotesque shapes. The air feels charged with an energy that’s both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
And as the soldier’s screams finally fade, the room around us starts to shake, the walls creaking under the force of the emission. We brace ourselves, our breaths shallow and rapid.
And then.
We passed out.
Well, shit. That was one hell of an update for you all as to what’s been happening or has happened the past few days. I’ve been spilling my damn guts out here like a damn therapy session, and as much as I’d like to keep pouring my thoughts into this message, I’m slowly starting to realize just how fucking carried away I’ve gotten.
Also, sorry if some of these messages are rather mushy or emotional, I’m not really the best when it comes to letting shit like this out. Emotions can really get the better of someone somtimes.
Guess I need a break from being the lookout and spilling my entire fucking life story into this PDA message. Zoran should also do something productive as well, like being lookout for once, and not piss on any more damn anomalies, and I’m also just tired as shit, like, on-the-verge-of-passing-out kinda tired.
So, yeah. I’m gonna wrap this entry up. But hey, keep those messages coming, okay? I’ll try my best to reply, and they’re like little rays of normalcy in this clusterfuck we’re living through. And if you’ve got any advice, jokes, or just a friendly “what’s up,” shoot it my way. I could genuinely use some laughs or at least a distraction from the mind-bending madness of this place, and for my sanity.
Stay weird, stay safe, and remember, life’s a bitch, and then you end up in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.