I've decided to introduce Leopold Walsh, a collector of things from before it all went to hell. [hider= Audio Record of L. Walsh] [b]8/3/2019[/b] It's my birthday today. I'm surprised I know that, given the state the world is in. If you've found this tape, my name is Leopold Walsh, but you can call me Leo for short. I'm a... "collector", of sorts. I scour the land, searching for relics of a lost age; keepsakes of a bygone era. Pocketwatches, magazines, DVD cases, comic books, guns... even calendars. Probably how I know that today's my birthday. It's weird, right? Almost five years have passed and we're already in a different time. Everything's pretty much gone, and it's the remains of us that are left -- or maybe it's just me. Maybe, I'm the only one left. Sorry. I tend to go off on a tangent, sometimes. Bit of an imagination, you could say, but not too far off from the reality we face. My items, right. That's where I was going with this whole thing. I've faced my fair share of conflict; did battle with bandits and the like who wanted my stuff, but I fought and I fought well. By now, my body's got to be covered with scars. I don't know. I rarely check now. 38 years old. I'm 38 years old, [url=http://www.dvinfo.net/forum/attachments/show-your-work/24732d1320217428-great-dying-post-apocalyptic-zombie-web-series-shot-5dmii-man3.jpg]and the years have not been kind.[/url] I don't even look the same as I used to. To be honest with you, I never thought I'd last this long. I'm not really talking about now; just before it all went down. I wasn't happy with who I was, where I was. Working dead-end jobs to make things meet, only to go home and sleep in a bed with someone who never really loved me. She's dead, now. A fitting end to her lie? I don't think it was. I never wished death on her. Just wished she was honest. I wasted time that could have been better spent doing... Ugh. Sorry. Tangent again, hah. Keep it together, Leo. When all of this is over... IF all of this ends, I plan to open my own museum. It'll be small, yeah, but full of nostalgia. I want people to remember that we had a life before this. Even if they do remember, they still need to be reminded of the progress we made. We've done so much for ourselves. It's not outside the realm of possibility for us to do it again. I can hear them again. The loud screams, the growling. Those monsters. They're getting clos-- --- [b]10/26/2019[/b] I found a picture of a family today. Man, woman, two kids. They looked so happy. I wonder what happened to them. My family was nothing like theirs. My mother and father constantly fought. If it wasn't the bills, it was the infidelity. If not that, then it was me. I don't know where along the road when I started becoming a problem to them, but I was old enough to realize that when they talked about me, it hurt. Okay, so maybe, I wasn't that great of a kid. I had my share of problems. Couldn't focus on things the way others could. I was lost in my imagination. In truth, it was a better place to be. From time to time, it still is; just less so, as being caught off guard now can get you killed. The divorce was especially hard to take. Pops' infidelity caught up with him, and Mom wasn't having it. It was tumultuous. Possessions halved, custody battles, seeing Dad with that girl. I couldn't understand it at first; was kinda hazy and really fast. Next thing I knew, I was with another relative. Didn't see Mom or Dad for a while. I learned later that she killed herself and he... just disappeared for good. Aunt Hazel was kind to me; the closest representation to a parent that I could actually find, but she's gone now. Rest easy, auntie. By the time she died, I moved out, ready to pace the world on my own. At least, I thought so. Didn't have money, and the job I worked paid very little. Toss that on top of college debt, and it's a recipe for homelessness. By chance, I had grown fond of another student. Jenna Carter, straight-laced good girl. Our relationship was good for a while. We were in love, but it started to dwindle as the years went by. We got married, but I was still in debt, so we never had that much money. I kept piling on jobs in hopes of clearing the debt. I laugh about it now. All I had to do was wait. The apocalypse would take care of it for me. Jenna? She and I divorced. She didn't take anything. "Nothing of value," she said. That hurt a lot more than I thought it would. She didn't value anything about our relationship. Or maybe she did, but just lost heart. The last I heard, she was killed somewhere near Ventura, California. Long time ago, towards the start of the outbreak, it seems. I survived, but barely. And now, I'm holding onto this picture. I could put it in the museum. A remembrance of happiness. Yeah, that sounds pretty good. --- [b]1/30/2020[/b] Gone. All of it, gone. I don't know how it happened. It was a blur. I saw this girl on the side of the road, bawling her eyes out. I walked up to her, wanted to see what was wrong, and got ambushed. They started rummaging through my things. MY things. That was all mine. I worked hard for everything I collected. I stared down the barrel of a gun into the toothless face of a bandit as they picked and threw everything everywhere. When they were done, they were going to kill me. If it wasn't for the horde of infected that showed up, I might have been another bloodstain on the road. I picked myself up and I ran amidst the chaos. The bandits were too busy with the horde to deal with me. By the time it was over, I was a ghost. But... everything is gone. I've got a calendar, a revolver, and this recorder. Everything else is left to the wind. I shouldn't have helped. I should have shot her. Never again. I'll never let myself trust like that again. Time to start over.[/hider]