After the morning arrived and we confirmed the area outside was safe, we managed to leave our hiding place and escape the city.
At a somewhat distant spot from the city, we found a house—or rather, a small cabin in the middle of a green wilderness.
We quickly headed toward the house and started knocking on the door, hoping someone was there, but we received no response. We had to force the door open.
My brother broke the door and entered. The place looked new, but there was no one inside, even after we searched the house. There was plenty of water and food, making it a suitable place to live.
This is a summary of the most significant thing we've found in these past five years. It's truly a good place. We rarely encounter any creatures nearby, and its strategic location is somewhat close to the city, so we could gather our daily supplies from there. We even found two chickens during our search in the city. I don't know how they survived, but the important thing is we brought them to the house to benefit from them. One lays an egg a day. It wasn't enough to live on, but it was helpful nonetheless.
It's raining now. My brother is asleep on the couch. I checked on the chickens; they're asleep too. I checked the farm. Everything is fine so far.
I looked at my brother, still sleeping deeply, relaxed, his face free of its usual tension. For the past five years, we've suffered from insomnia. Sleep was far from comfortable, and even when we managed to sleep, we'd usually wake up terrified from nightmares. I still suffer from this, but it seems he's finally starting to recover. He's been through so much; he deserves better.
I never thought I'd return to writing in this diary, but I had nothing else to do, so there's no harm in writing a little.
The past few years have been tough. Most of them were filled with continuous grief and trauma. I don't know if it came from the massacre I witnessed or from my parents abandoning me. All this happened when I was just a child. That's what turned my life upside down. Sadness consumed me daily for years. I felt worthless, like I was nothing but a burden in the lives of those I loved, making their lives harder.
As soon as we settled in this house, I isolated myself in one of the rooms for days and weeks, crying bitterly every time I remembered that day stuck in my mind, refusing to stop thinking about it. I barely ate during those days, while my brother brought me food and tried to comfort me, even though his condition wasn't much better than mine. Despite sharing the same pain, he stayed strong, never leaving me. Even in his worst moments, he risked his life going to the city to get food for both of us. Though I didn't eat much of what he brought, he always left it outside my door without touching it. When I finally left the room, I found dozens of meals he'd left for me, hoping I'd eat them.
One day, while I was alone as usual, staring at the cracked ceiling of my room, I thought about everything my brother was doing for me and what I was doing for him.
I realized then that I was just a burden to him. All this time, he was risking his life for me while I lay in bed crying like a child.
That's when I understood my father was right—I was an obstacle to my brother, adding to his misery and exhaustion without contributing anything worthwhile. I was a burden.
At that moment, I felt overwhelming shame and self-hatred. I got out of bed and left my room for the first time in weeks.
I found my brother sitting at a chair, eating the food on the table. Exhaustion and fatigue dominated his face, but he smiled as soon as he saw me, as if trying to hide his condition. He invited me to eat with him, which only deepened my guilt for leaving him in such a tough state. I approached him and hugged him tightly, apologizing for abandoning him like that. He hugged me back strongly, as if that embrace carried all the pain we'd been through. He simply patted my back gently, without saying a word.
I sat with him at the table. I had no appetite, but I forced myself to eat.
From that day, I always went with him on his trips to the city. We faced many tough, terrifying, and life-threatening situations, but we came out alive. Still, I sometimes went to the city alone without his knowledge, trying to repay the debt of his protection during my difficult times. He disapproved, and it often led to arguments between us.
He was worried about me, but my guilt pushed me to do it regardless of what he said. Later, he convinced me to stop.
After that, we started trying to bring stability back to our lives. We began planting some crops we found in the city, attempting to create a reliable food source to avoid leaving the house as much as possible. It wasn't entirely successful at first—the soil wasn't fertile enough, and the weather was unstable—but that didn't stop us.
Sometimes, we'd notice human or animal corpses in the city that the zombies hadn't consumed yet. So, we'd take them, eat them, and grind the bones to use as fertilizer for our crops. I thought eating human corpses, in particular, was wrong and morally unacceptable.
But my brother, unlike me, didn't care about morality. In this new world, he said, morality would only lead to our death. We couldn't abandon a food source just because it was a corpse or human like us. I resisted the idea for a while, but I accepted it over time when hunger became unbearable one day.
Days passed, and the crops started growing better. That filled us with joy. Radishes were the most successful of our vegetables, abundant and quick to grow.
I think our lives are finally starting to stabilize.
It's a beautiful day outside. The rain is pouring from the sky, and the unique smell of rain seeps into my nose, filling me with overwhelming happiness. I didn't expect to wake up to this after such a restful sleep—no insomnia, no strange events, just comfort followed by a feeling of joy and happiness upon waking.
My brother is in the kitchen, preparing some eggs and potatoes, with a clear sense of calm and reassurance on his face.
Haha, wow, I didn't expect falling asleep while writing would give me this kind of comfort.
My brother looked at me and said, "You seem happy today. What's up?"
I replied, "Nothing, just a good night's sleep."
He chuckled a bit, then sat on the chair and started eating.
We both looked out the window, watching the rain quietly. We weren't worried or scared of anything—just a moment filled with peace and tranquility.
I finished breakfast and washed the dishes while my brother stayed seated, watching the rain.
I went outside to get a better look at the rain and check on the farm and the chickens.
Wait a second?! Something's coming from afar. This doesn't look good at all.
I called my brother and told him to grab a weapon in case of any danger.
What am I seeing? It's a normal human, but he's in such bad shape I'm shocked he's still alive. His clothes are covered in blood, his right eye is missing, and he has deep gashes all over his body, as if a monster had tried to devour him.
At first, we thought he was just a zombie, so we approached to kill him quickly.
But, unexpectedly, as soon as he saw us, he started talking, begging for our help.
We approached cautiously. His voice was weak and faltering. When he saw our weapons, he said in a trembling voice, "Please, don't kill me. I'm not one of them…"
He staggered for a moment, nearly collapsing if I hadn't caught him. He closed his eyes briefly, breathing rapidly.
He opened his eyes, and our gazes met… then, suddenly, his face showed terror and shock. He tried to scream, "Mon-mon-monster," but he lacked the strength. Then he started convulsing wildly, making me drop him on the ground in panic. A nearly giant worm burst out of his head, charging toward me at high speed. At the last moment, I managed to grab my weapon and strike it, killing it instantly.
I thought it was over, but I was wrong. I heard a strange sound coming from the man's corpse, and another worm burst out of his chest, lunging toward my brother. It pierced his foot, causing him to scream in agony. I quickly turned to them and killed it before things got worse.
I dragged my brother to the house and tried to tend to his foot as fast as possible.
Damn, this is bad. The worm tore out a chunk of his flesh, but luckily, the wound isn't bleeding much for some reason. I bandaged it and put him on the bed to rest.
What the hell… worms started crawling out of the corpse again. I see five more. They must have been nesting in his body.
They started eating the man's corpse and the two worms I killed. It's a disgusting sight.
Alright, I burned the corpse and the remaining worms. The rain wasn't much of an obstacle.
My brother is lying on the couch, and he says the pain is starting to fade. He just needs some rest.
Damn it, that awful feeling again. I went to help the man, and he called me a monster… just like the others.
I almost forgot how awful humans can be. Why should I stress myself thinking about them? I just need to forget it. Overthinking won't help.
Hmm, what's this feeling? I'm getting a headache—
Damn, what happened? How long was I unconscious? It's already dark.
Wait a second! Where's my brother?! I called him several times, but he's not answering. Could something have happened to him?
There's a scratching sound coming from the bedroom. Someone or something is there. I need to check; my brother might be in danger.
I'm at the bedroom door now, and the scratching is getting louder. I'll open the door, and if I see a monster, I'll attack.
Oh, it's just my brother. He's okay, sort of. I asked him about the noises, and he said he was just looking for antiseptic to clean his wound.
That's reassuring. I was worried something happened, but it seems everything's fine.
He left the room and went to sleep. I think I'll sleep too, but not yet. I'm a bit hungry.
I'm back after eating a light meal. I'm not sleepy, but I'll write until I fall asleep like last night.
The bed is comfortable, and the moonlight seeps through the closed window's cracks. The sound of rain hitting the roof with a calm rhythm adds a nice atmosphere to the place.
Hmm, I'm still puzzled about why I passed out like that. Could the corpse have released some kind of sedative gas? That's the only explanation that makes sense.
Haha, my brother looks kind of funny when he's asleep.
Damn, I disturbed him. He told me to go to sleep. Alright, I'll stop writing for now.
Ugh, what's that noise again? It's the middle of the night. My brother's not in bed, so it must be him.
I can't sleep with all this noise. I'll go check on him.
It was my brother again. I found him eating my strawberry jam again. His behavior is so annoying… Something kind of funny happened. When I walked in on him, my heart nearly stopped—I thought he was eating raw meat at first, but I realized it was just jam. Man, everything that happened today made me hallucinate so much, and my brother's gross habit made it worse—he eats the jam with his hands, no spoon, just dipping his hand in it. He's so weird. I've told him over and over to stop, but he keeps ignoring me. Damn his stubbornness. The annoying sounds of him eating are still echoing, but I'll try to sleep.
Another beautiful day. It's raining again. It seems we'll have nice weather these days. The smell of coffee fills the air; my brother must have woken up before me, as usual.
Awesome, he made coffee, as I expected.
I teased him, "Don't tell me you finished the last jar of jam last night?"
He replied, "Haha, sorry, I was hungry."
I laughed and shook my head mockingly, then started drinking the hot coffee. It was delicious, warming me up on this cold morning. These simple morning moments with my brother are the best part of the day. They make me feel at ease, like all my life's problems vanish in an instant.
My brother noticed my strange looks and asked why I was staring at him like that.
"It's just… I'm grateful you're in my life. I don't know what I'd do without you."
He replied, "Thanks for the kind words, brother. I don't know either."
"No, thank you. Because of you, my life feels more normal, more than it ever was."
We drank our coffee and went to work on the farm as usual. The day passed normally.
We finally finished the hard work. We expanded the farm a bit, so it took longer than usual.
Damn, my head again. What's wrong with it lately? It's been hurting a lot recently.
I'll try to ignore the pain for now; maybe it'll go away—
These hallucinations are no longer a joke. There's definitely something wrong with me.
I'll be sitting calmly, then suddenly hear rustling sounds behind me. When I turn around, there's nothing there.
Even my brother started noticing my odd behavior and asked me several times what's making me act this way.
I asked him if he heard the same things I did, but he said no, meaning I'm the only one hearing them.
It's not just the strange sounds. Sometimes I see shadows moving on their own in the distance, but when I go to check, there's no one there, not even footprints.
This scares me a bit and makes me uneasy, but there's nothing I can do except rest and hope these hallucinations fade on their own.
We had lunch, and now I'm just sitting, reading some books I found in the city. I'm reading a novel called Symphony of the Last Dawn. I like the story; the events are really engaging and kill the boredom I feel.
I was so engrossed in reading that I didn't notice the commotion outside. The chickens started clucking loudly; they must be fighting or something's wrong. I'll go check.
What…? There's a tall tree near the house I hadn't noticed before. How did it grow here?
The tree is oddly thin, brown, with small leaves. Could it be a hallucination? It's illogical for a tree to grow from nothing to this size so fast. It's not an illusion—I can touch it. This isn't good. I'll burn it before something bad happens.
I finished burning it. There's a lot of smoke coming from it. It's a beautiful sight, honestly. I wish my brother was here to see it… Wait, where is he?
He's asleep on the couch, as usual. Too bad he missed this. Anyway, I think I'll go back to reading until I get bored.
There's a strange noise outside again. What's with this day? My brother woke up because of it too. We'll go check it out.
Oh no, no, no, not now. Why now? Our lives were just starting to stabilize. There's a horde of zombies heading toward us. What brought them here? No time to think—we need to escape now.
We managed to escape, but my brother was injured by one of them. It was too close to the house, but we killed it. Now we're just walking, far enough from the cabin.
Luckily, we brought the chickens and some food with us. At least we didn't lose everything—I think.
The road is completely empty, except for small trees appearing now and then and some birds feeding on an animal carcass.
I asked my brother where we're going, but he stayed silent. I don't blame him—we lost everything we built again.
He looks exhausted. Maybe we should rest a bit.
We sat to rest under the shade of a rock, giving the chickens some water while we took a break.
I looked at my brother, who seemed utterly broken. His face was pale, and he hadn't said a word the whole way… I don't know what to do or say to him.
Oh! He spoke. He said, "What are we going to do now? We lost everything. Everything we built is gone, just like that."
I already knew that, but I tried to comfort him, saying we're still together, and that's what matters most.
It helped a little. He said, "You're right. I can't believe I forgot that. I'm sorry."
But he was still a bit sad.
I told him not to worry, that we'd find a new place like we did before.
He didn't reply but looked at me with a small smile.
A few minutes passed with us in the same state until my brother broke the silence, saying, "I've wanted to ask you for a long time but kept forgetting. Why do you write everything that happens to us in that diary? The events, the conversations, like now—you're writing what I'm saying almost in real-time."
Honestly, I never thought about why I write everything down… After thinking for a moment, at first, when I got the diary, I just wanted to record my daily moments so I wouldn't forget them in the future, to remember the times I spent with my family. But now, it's also a way to vent my troubling feelings and thoughts onto paper instead of letting them swirl in my head endlessly. In short, it's my way of relieving my negative emotions. Every word, every letter I write helps ease them, even if just a little, so I try to write as much as possible by documenting everything.
My brother just looked at the sky and said, "I envy you for that."
We've rested enough. We need to find a place to stay before night falls.
Darkness is setting in, and we still haven't found a place to stay. We encountered some zombies on the way but managed to avoid them, luckily. I just hope this day passes safely.
Finally, I spotted something in the distance—a huge wall, from what I can see. It must be a safe place.
Wait a second, this is unbelievable! There are people in that place! Haha, I can't believe my eyes—we're saved.
My brother seems a bit excited too, though he looks tired. We need to hurry there.
Damn, damn, damn, damn! They didn't let us in, and it's all because of my appearance again. We begged for help, told them we're just survivors looking for shelter. They stayed silent for a moment, then suddenly started shooting arrows at us. While escaping, I heard one say, "That man is walking with a monster. He must be another monster trying to trick us."
I hate myself. I ruined our last chance at survival because of this disgusting appearance I was born with. I can't forgive myself for this. I'm just bringing trouble to my brother. My father was right—I only cause problems.
We managed to escape, and now we're just out in the open, in a dead land devoid of life, hoping nothing attacks us until morning.
I looked at my brother and asked what we're going to do now.
He said one of us will sleep while the other keeps watch.
He was exhausted, so I'll take watch.
It's very dark. I can barely see anything except a faint light from that human fortress. That dim light feels like it's mocking me, reminding me how unwanted I am, neither among monsters nor humans.
I want to cry, but I don't want to disturb my brother or cause more trouble.
I wish this was just a long nightmare I'll wake up from tomorrow and return to life as it was.
I hear strange rustling behind me again. I looked, but there's nothing there.
These hallucinations will kill me one day. I'm noticing more shadows moving at the edges of my vision. I feel sharp breaths in front of me, but there's nothing there. My father's voices echo annoyingly in my ears. I even started seeing my brother strangely at times. I desperately need sleep. I'll wake my brother and go to sleep; I can't handle this anymore.
Morning came, and we packed our things and started moving, hoping to find a new home.
Several hours passed as we walked relentlessly, and we finally reached a city.
The city is destroyed, as expected, but what's strange is the fog enveloping everything.
As we entered, the first thing we encountered was a horde of zombies walking through the fog. We quickly escaped and hid inside a building.
The place seems somewhat safe. It's probably a shop, but it's empty and filled with corpses scattered around.
My brother asked me to search the corpses for anything useful. The smell is suffocating; I can barely breathe around them.
What I found:
A broken lighter and some paper money. A wet notebook, its pages stiff and some torn, but some words are still readable. A rusty knife. A small camera, covered in blood and dust. I don't know if it works.
We haven't found anything useful yet. We left the place quietly after ensuring no one was nearby. My brother told me to be careful since something could emerge from the fog. Of course, I know that—
Wait, where's my brother? He was just in front of me. I tried calling him, but he's not answering. I know it'll attract them, but that doesn't matter now. Where is he?
Damn, I hear zombies from every direction. I should've kept my eyes on him. Damn it, no time to do anything—the sounds are getting closer. I need to find a safe place fast.
I survived by a miracle. One attacked me, wounding my arm, but I killed it. Luckily, I escaped into a pharmacy and blocked the door with everything I could find, but it doesn't seem like it'll hold long. There's a horde outside; if they get in, I'm done.
I found some bandages—good, I can stop the bleeding before it gets worse. There are lots of medications. I'll take everything I can; we might need them.
Awesome! There's anti-hallucination medicine. This'll help. I'll grab everything I can quickly.
No time to celebrate—the door's about to break. I need to escape and find my brother.
Phew, I escaped by a miracle. There was a back door, thankfully, which let me get out.
Wait a second? That's my brother's voice—he's close!
I can't believe he's okay! I almost lost hope of finding him. I asked why he disappeared. He said I was the one who vanished, not him. It doesn't matter now; the fog must've separated us. The important thing is we're back together.
He took me to a house that looks in good condition. It seems we'll stay here for the day.
The place is nice inside, though full of dust and cobwebs, but it's better than nothing.
Great, there's some food here.
We ate until we were full. Finally, some rest. The house is quiet despite being in a city full of zombies. Their sounds are barely audible outside, meaning they're far from here.
Damn, my head again. The hallucinations are back. It's the perfect time to try the medicine from the pharmacy.
It says to take one pill with a little water. Okay, I did that. Now I'll wait.
My head's calming down a bit. The sounds I was hearing are fading. It's a strange feeling, like I'm seeing things more clearly. Even the tightness I felt is disappearing. Haha, I need to tell my brother this good news.
(What I'm writing now isn't from the diary but the actual events that happened at that moment.)
Filmir turned to his brother with a big smile, ready to share the good news, but his smile quickly faded when he saw him.
His brother was slumped on the floor, tied up with ropes, his skin pale, half his face decayed, and his mouth taped shut, moving erratically as he tried to free himself. He looked like a living corpse.
Panic spread across Filmir's face. He rushed to his brother, starting to untie him while saying in a voice full of tension and worry, "Brother! What happened to you? Who did this? When did this happen?" Filmir untied him, but suddenly, his brother attacked, pinning him to the ground and trying to devour him as Filmir's face showed terror and shock. He tried to defend himself while avoiding hurting his brother, saying in sorrow and tension, "Brother? Brother, answer me, please say something." But it was no use—his brother kept attacking, causing severe wounds to both his hands, making them bleed.
Filmir kicked his brother hard, pushing him away, then grabbed a knife with trembling hands, tears filling his eyes as he looked at his brother.
He said in a voice full of anguish, "Stay back… please, I don't want to hurt you." But his words meant nothing now. His brother was long gone. He lunged at Filmir, uncaring if he was his brother. In a decisive moment, Filmir drove the knife into his brother's head with all his strength.
Filmir stood there, staring at his brother, who died instantly. He tried to process what happened, dropping the knife as his brother's lifeless body fell. Why? How did this happen? These questions swirled in his mind.
Filmir fell to his knees beside his brother's body, tears flooding his eyes. He didn't care about his wounds or that their noise would attract danger. He no longer had any desire to live…
He held his brother's body, hugging it tightly as he cried with all his might, remembering their moments together—the happy and sad times, the hardships they endured… But now, everything was gone…
After some time, Filmir pulled his diary from his shirt and opened it under the sound of approaching zombies, starting to write.
(Back to the diary)
I can't believe I forced myself to believe all this…
I don't know… I just don't know anymore. I can't trust what I see. All this time, my brother was already a zombie. I went crazy and couldn't accept it, couldn't accept that the only person left to me was gone long ago. I don't even know when this happened. I don't know if anything that happened was real. I convinced myself everything was fine, that he was still with me, and I didn't realize until now. My hands are bleeding heavily, and the zombies have surrounded the place… but I don't care… I wish I hadn't taken those pills…
(Not from the diary)
Filmir closed his diary calmly and tucked it into his clothes for the last time, looking at his dead brother one final time. He stood and walked outside, ignoring the zombies' screams around him. He stepped into the alley, staggering among the debris and scattered corpses, indifferent to his surroundings. He could hear the zombies approaching, but he didn't quicken his pace or try to avoid them.
He looked at his hands, stained with his brother's blood—the blood of the dearest person to his heart.
He kept walking through the fog, without direction or purpose, just walking… waiting for his end.
As he walked through the fog, shadows began appearing among the rubble, familiar figures emerging from the smoke like ghosts from distant memories.
A figure resembling his father appeared from the fog, walking in the opposite direction, looking away from him, passing by Filmir, who showed no reaction and kept walking forward.
Then he passed his mother, walking slowly with tear-filled eyes, but she didn't look at him, staring ahead and ignoring him.
Shadows of people Filmir had lived with at some point appeared—children he played with as a kid, soldiers who helped them, survivors he was with—all passed by with blurred faces as Filmir kept walking without glancing at any of them.
Suddenly, the shadows began to fade, and the fog gradually cleared. For a few seconds, a vision of his dead brother appeared, standing still in front of him, looking at him with a gentle smile.
Filmir stopped and looked into his eyes, his heart overwhelmed with longing and sorrow. Before continuing, he whispered in a low, longing-filled voice, "Thank you for your kindness… You were with me through all my tough times, my happy and sad moments. You never cared about my appearance or my uselessness. You always saw me as your brother, not a monster. I wish you were here so I could tell you this. Every second with you was a priceless gift."
The sun hit Filmir's face, burning his skin, but he didn't care about the pain. He covered himself and kept walking toward the dead land he came from, leaving the city behind. His hands bled profusely without stopping, making his death only a matter of time.
He walked for several minutes until he felt something under his foot. Looking down, he saw a young boy on the ground, wearing clothes too big for his age for reasons Filmir didn't know. He looked at him with eyes full of pain and regret for all that had happened. He sat on the ground, examining the boy's face to see if he was alive.
The boy was still breathing, but his face showed clear signs of hunger and thirst.
Filmir felt remorse and sadness but didn't know what to do. He pulled a water bottle from his pocket, opened it slowly, and started giving the boy water with his trembling hands.
Filmir collapsed on the ground from exhaustion, knowing this would be his end. But he wanted to do at least one good thing in his life before dying. He got up with difficulty, pulled his diary from his clothes, and slowly opened it to the last page, starting to write.
I won't live much longer. The blood is pouring out and won't stop. I can barely write this now. But I won't die before doing at least one useful thing. I'll dedicate my last moments to saving this child. As for me, I have no hope of living, nor do I want to.
Child, if you're reading this, I want to thank you for being here in my final moments.
Thanks to you, I got the chance to do something meaningful in this life, even if it's the last thing I do. I have food and water in my bag; you can use them. Also, don't go to that city—it's dangerous. Go around it, and you'll find a place full of debris. Walk in the opposite direction of the city for a few hours, and you'll see a fortress with some humans. I think they'll help you.
My name is Filmir Reid. I'm 20 years old. I lived in Arcadia. I was born with a condition that makes me unable to tolerate sunlight, and my lost blood can only be replaced with blood from an external source. This condition made me resemble monsters and made my life difficult, even in my final moments. My story ends here, but not yours. I'll die here, but I want you to keep living, to find the hope I couldn't. Live your life, make friends, play with them, and don't be a burden to them. There's no space left to write more, so my final words to you are: live for me.
Filmir closed his diary calmly and tucked it into his clothes for the last time. In his final moments, he stood in front of the boy to shield him from the sun, smiling quietly despite the pain tearing through his body. He whispered faintly, "At least… this time, I managed to do something good." With his last breath, he fell to his knees before his body collapsed entirely, leaving behind his final testament.
(Back to Jessie and the others)
Jessie closed the diary quietly, his face showing pity and gratitude as Mira and Joseph slept soundly.
He looked at the diary, a tear falling from his eye, moved by the horrors Filmir endured and how, despite it all, he saved him in his final moments. This instilled a sense of respect in Jessie. He closed his eyes for a moment, wiped the tear from his cheek, and took a deep breath.
He never knew or met Filmir personally, but he wished he could have. Jessie tucked the diary back into his shirt, then looked at Mira and Joseph, sleeping. He felt tired too, but his heart was heavy with emotions. He got up and left the cabin, finding the sun starting to set. He looked at the people walking around, happy and unconcerned about the dangers outside, then said with a small smile, "I wish you were still alive."