Journal Entry #4

Journal Entry #4

Appalachia, Day 65: 54F, windy.

Whatever bountiful gods had bestowed upon me an endless supply of dog food whenever I strolled past Mama Dolce’s have forsaken me. Life in the wastes has become increasingly lonely and desperate. I have been living a meager existence off mole rat chunks, which have a textural taste of moist socks and an odor of unwashed raider corpse. I had cornered a party of scorched near Morgantown in hope of loot, however Chad materialized out of nowhere, took all the loot and then shot me in the testicles with a railway rifle. Must find family and community…to have people to talk with, to build with would be everything. We can be more…it’s almost Christmas.

Appalachia, Day 66: 48F, freezing rain.

A slim chance at redemption! It’s only been a few months since we first set foot out of the warmth of the Vault. For whatever reason, Jake and Amata did not wait for me. Our plan had always been to build a farm and offer care and warmth for passersby. I spotted him dashing across the bridge up in Point Pleasant this morning and have begun tracking him. Curiously, he no longer goes by the name Jake. My Pipboy indicated his name is now “GeneralPen1s”. Having seen it, it’s not exactly 5 star.
…my hunger grows.

Appalachia, Day 67: 50F overcast.

Food…no longer a problem. So much has happened in a day. Let me start at the beginning. I set out at dawn, locating “GeneralPen1s” near a fellow Vault Dweller’s encampment. He appeared to be slashing at the player’s walls and giggling. As I approached, he dashed towards me and began punching me, uttering the phase, “Fight me bro. Fight me.” repeatedly. After a spirited round of fisticuffs, we both collapsed…worn and tired. We agreed to set out together…finally…after all this time. The Vault Dweller returned to their home (much to our chagrin) and opened fire without a word. Jake shared…some strange power with me. Before I knew it, I had set upon her like some kind of wild animal. Bestial. Primal. I dare not question or dwell on the line I have crossed. We retired to Jake’s camp, playing guitars before the fire…bellies full and questions lost to the night sky. At last…family. A companion.

Appalachia, Day 68:

I ate Jake.

Also, found some boxes of springs and a plan to add a television to my shack. Outlook promising. Must find others…