October 17, 2013 Diary of Don Collins

For the first time since the war began, I have been able to sit comfortably, knowing no one shall ever find me. These tunnels give great comfort and a sense of peace to my troubled self. I did not realize how absent-minded I was until I could actually sit, and stare at nothing in particular without bloody images passing my eyes. But I still think of the next bullet. It carries its own name, and, in time, it shall taste the darkness of the Black Empire. But, above all, the Black Empire shall taste lead again, and it won’t be washed down so easily with a glass of wine as it was once before. It shall never be so easy for them, not this time, not in the coming times. I will make them taste the fire of flying bullet, and they shall feel it as it burns down their pillar of monumental bones. Their graves shall be dug so deep, that their bodies will disappear into the center of the Earth.

But the bullet must be forgotten in the pistol for now. I am weary to think of such an old tale that I have not finished writing yet. It is incomplete, and should remain so, but for the sake of the innocent, I will finish it, even if it outlives me. For the innocent, I live in hell, seeking the devil’s blood. The flames, however, obscure my view numerous times to keep me from such a task, but I will push them aside, as if they were curtains, and enter the devil’s estate. He will be murdered in his own home, and his legacy shall crumble away until there comes a time when someone can say, “There’s no such thing.”

I came across a break in the tile while journeying alongside the acid. I could see the soft, silver touch of the moon. It was especially bright, but the scattered diamonds of the stars were missing upon the canvas of the sky. The Earth shall end soon, and I only hope it ends in one beautiful second until it wastes away into the bottom of God’s hourglass. Even if it’s such a small thing as being able to see the stars again, I would live to that last second before I fall away, under the hands of death. The stars have been gone for too long, now, and the moon is just the empty, grinning face of death. The devil carved it beautifully, but the reality is too twisted for the sane minds of humans. The devil carved it beautifully, but with violent qualities…

I must leave these tunnels soon; I hunger, and the bullet is restless. I don’t know what shall happen if I cannot escape soon enough. Perhaps I will experience my own apocalypse, but the bullet will fly before it’s all over, even if it must do such a thing itself… LATER

The acid has lead me as far as it could possibly go, and I have run into a large, sizzling iron gate. The acid has eaten away at the dark, heavy iron, and I am just able to slip inside, onto a small ledge which juts from the tunnel walls. It will be a difficult task to slip along its thin length, but I will be patient and manage as best I can. The acid is ravenous, and I have singed the hairs on my left arm from walking alongside it for so long. The ledge leads onwards into darkness in the smaller tunnel, but I can barely discern a small, pinpoint of light as it pierces the evil shadows. I cannot sleep until I am out of this network of tunnels. I must stay strong and continue onward. The bullet can hardly contain itself as another horseman awaits freedom. Just let me live until the job is finished…

Let me live…let me live

Let me live. -Adieu

October 18, 2013 Diary of Don Collins

It was a long and terrible journey through that one last tunnel. I have reached the end, which has lead me to the source of that acid. Here, the acid is pure and glowing green with radioactive life. Above this churns the machinery of some industrial building. It’s just what I wanted to find. The Empire took siege of this building years ago, but now, it shall be lost to them. Funny how much I cost this Empire. I have cost them nearly everything, and all because of my little pet gun.

I have, since sitting down to record this, destroyed the building. It was such a fantastic feat of blood and gore, and I have never witnessed such a massacre in my life. I could swear that there were millions of those robot-like soldiers. They were crammed into every single corner of the place, and pushed to the boundaries of the fence that encased the factory. They all turned to me with their lifeless eyes when I slipped into their midst. All at once, in one eerie second of strange coincidence, they all roared with inhuman voices, and pointed millions of laser-beams which covered my entire body. I was the red focus. I wasn’t quite terrified, but something deep in the pits of my soul stirred, and began to writhe within me. It had been awakened from its deadened sleep, and it crawled forth from the dark mists which shrouded its being. For once in my long term of vigilante heroism…I was afraid…of death.

The soldiers closed in on my glowing figure, and I imagined that it was not the red light of their guns that they saw, but the blood which was racing through my body, and pushing my heart to new feats of excited pounding. I wasn’t just another intruder…but a hunk of tantalizing flesh. The soldiers themselves were nearly skeletal and they rasped with each breath. Here I was, trapped. I reached slowly into my pocket, and pulled out a credit card…or was it? Credit cards had become obsolete since 2010. I held it up, and flicked it into their horde. They were like animals; they all turned to watch it with a lustful, empty gaze as it fluttered and situated itself lightly on top of a tank, near the foot of a soldier. The soldier toed it with his loose boot as I slipped between their legs and behind a piece of churning machinery.

An utter silence of three seconds issued, then the card screamed, piercing their sensitive eardrums, and the card exploded when the soldier stomped his weight down upon it. He must have done it pretty hard, because I could feel the flames leaping at my back. The flames were harmless to me, but the soldiers were incinerated. The heat spread out towards the fence, and screams and roars issued forth from the cold environment. It went on for hours as they fell and writhed in the dirt. The bomb had a five mile radius, and I had simply tested it for an undiscovered scientist. Well, the results were quite positive. The damned thing had worked its magic. I didn’t come out until it had finished, reaching the ends of its boundaries, sending me echoes of success from far off in the distance. My awakened fear had kept me from watching my own massacre, and I crouched there the entire time. I could swear I was there for five hours, and when I emerged the sun had sunk low in the sky, casting a bloody glow across miles of mindless massacre. I clutched my pistol to my heart. It was all that was left of my life, my purpose, my soul you could say, and without it, I was insane…

I stepped outside and the entire ground was paved with blood. They were all dead. I could see them heaped up far away in the surrounding forest. It was such a bloodbath of utter destruction. I had seen the Empire do terrible things, but there is nothing compared to the duties that I have laid into my hand, starting with the pistol. I felt like killing myself for once. As I gazed at the horrors of what I had done, I could feel stirring in my stomach. I turned to the wall, and supported myself as I vomited emptily upon the ground. It curled from my throat, and choked its way out until it was satisfied with its painful punishment.

Afterwards, when the moon had begun to rise and the glow pierced the black corners of the Earth, I pulled another bomb from its hiding place, and waited. I heard that one of the “masterminds” was visiting today, and I was going to destroy the entire building as he pulled up in his ridiculously expensive limo, which had been paid for with the blood of innocents. And as he gawks for that one split second while the smoke rolls around me, the bullet will be unleashed. Another dead, but no one will know who did it of course. All they shall know is the second name…

As the moon topped out above the diseased forests, that same, black, sleek limo pulled slowly up the road outside the rusted, chain-link fence. My grip tightened around the small bomb. The limo continued towards the gate, and I slipped into deep shadows as the gate slowly ground open. The car couldn’t penetrate the field of bodies, and it stopped not far from the gate as it crunched slowly back into place. You better remember that sound, bastard, because that’s the sound of your coffin creaking shut behind you. I clenched my teeth tightly with pent-up wrath and fingered the thin, needle-like pin inserted into the tiny bomb.

“Get out of the car, bastard, and walk to your death like a man!” I remembered growling.

I can finally feel it all now. Such wrath of a great creature crawled inside me with agitated anger. I was tired of these “Empire” bastards, and a new determination burst from the confines of my skull. Something inside me was finally released from a cleverly shielded prison which I myself had created from my own depression. I felt like simply racing up to that fat bastard on wheels and tearing every single piece of that car to microscopic shreds. I felt like spewing flecks of that dirty blood all over until the drops could be found around the world. I felt like I could just rip my shirt of, grow fur, fangs, and claws, then simply gore them all until their bones were all that was left. The next day some wanderer would find them, and assume they’d been there forever because of how white they were. It was all rushing through my skull now as I finally pulled the pin from the bomb, and flung them both far into the building.

The limo doors swung open as I moved into the light, flinging the bomb. One man shouted at me, and began to race towards me. I turned to face him, and pulled my pistol from its hiding place. The bomb beeped and the building exploded into a feat of amazing power. The building itself exploded as if it were a gargantuan firecracker. Streams of glowing, burning, and otherwise destroyed debris flung itself outward as I gently -Adieu raised the pistol. The bastard was striding out now, and the smoke was crawling forth. The man had stopped to shield himself from the explosion. I’m sure the devil flicked across my eyes as my finger tightened around that one piece of metal which could destroy so much. Go back to your hell-hole, and let me claim my own, Satan…

“Remember, bastard, guns don’t kill,” I whispered, “Bullets do.”

The gun roared and the second of the horsemen unleashed itself from its prison, and pounded its lead weight into another of the Empire. The smoke crept in, and an iron beam flung itself from the display of ingenious explosives. The beam fluttered like a feather upon the air, and exploded in a fiery gore-fest on top of the limo. They were all dead now.

The bullet is connected to the trigger…
                                                      -Adieu