It has been a week since I have last written in you. For that, I am sorry. Without you, I'd probably be insane right now. Since I am a hermit and have no one else to talk to, you're the only thing I can tell this story to, especially with Peter dead""
It all started when I heard a gunshot in the distance. Knowing the nearest town was thirty miles away and nobody lived there since the cannibals came and took everyone away, I had to investigate. The cannibals couldn't find me, no matter what. I had barely survived once and little did I know I'd barely survive again. I decided to take action. I slung my long bow over my back along with my quiver and canteen. Then I set out towards the gunshot with Peter, my dog close at my heals, taking the fight to the cannibals.
After about a days trek, Peter and I stopped to make camp. I knew the once stray dog had a keen sense of smell and would be able to sniff out the foul smelling cannibals tomorrow morning, so I quickly fell asleep without any worries.
"Roof! Roof! Roof! Rooooooo".."
Before I opened my eyes I knew what was happening.
They were attacking. There was nothing I-Joey P, a 6' 4", 185 pound man with an eight pack-could do about it. The bag was already over my head and I was being held down by what seemed like five men. The smell of them was enough to make me throw up in the bag. I then was knocked unconscious.
Suddenly I was jolted awake. One of my captors was sucking my toes, yes, sucking them. I tried to kick him off, but I was bound by rope that was professionally tied. I wondered if whichever cannibal had tied my rope was a boy scout before the war that destroyed the Americas. I then began to wonder why they were even here in Canada again. After ransacking all livable places for humans and then engorging themselves on them, I thought they went south. Them being back must mean the south was either on defense, or there were no more people left to eat and now they're double-checking their handiwork. I really hope it's not the latter.
While thinking, I hadn't even noticed the bag of vomit was off my head. I began to analyze my situation. It was bad. I mean real bad. They were eating my dog, and I was beginning to think my second hypothesis for these monsters coming back to Canada was the true one. With guts on the floor, a trail of crimson blood led the way to a log that was being used as a makeshift table. On the table was my dog, Peter, my only friend. If I hadn't spent so long with him I definitely wouldn't have been able to identify him. The poor dog's head was gone. In its place was a jagged edge I assumed was the neck, or what was left of it. I could finally tell what the added stench to the already horrid smell of the cannibals was. Peter had been roasted. My dog, my companion, my friend, had been roasted. I leaned over and threw up again. The five cannibals including the one sucking my toes now knew I was awake. They looked at me with the same look in their eyes. I remember as a child when they came. They were going to pay for killing Peter, and all my family and friends. I was going to make them pay.
As you know, during my time alone I have spent much of it reading, practicing martial arts, and keeping my body in tip-top shape. Even with all these different forms of martial arts I knew, the odds were stacked against me. The five I was preparing myself to get into WW IV with were probably ready to do anything to have dinner tonight. I was on the menu and I had to be ready to do anything to get off of it.
As they looked at me, I looked back at each one of them in turn, looking for someone that may be second guessing their actions. I got no such hint but instead I seemed to recognize some of them. Their eyes were cold, heartless, and lifeless. Knowing they were not going to help me, my mind kicked into survivor mode. Then all hell broke loose.
The guy that was sucking on my big toe was still there. I quickly bent my toe in his mouth and yanked him forward by his jaw. With my legs bound together, I lifted my knees with the help of kinetic energy, and slammed the monster into my knees, seeming to knock him out. I then looked over as my next victim let out a horrific yell and rushed at me. What I then saw was my knife. A he pulled the knife back in preparation to strike, I rolled towards him. The cannibal, not expecting this fell clumsily over me onto the ground. Before the next cannibal could jump on me, I quickly searched the ground for something hard. It was then that I finally had a stroke of luck. My hands closed around the handle of my knife. Rolling over one more time, I haphazardly tried to cut the rope tying my feet together. Because of my haste, I sliced through the rope and gashed my foot. With the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the will to survive, I did a quick jump onto the ground standing against my opponents for the first time. Flipping the knife over in my hands, I quickly cut the rope binding my hands while the remaining four cannibals circled me, regrouping and calculating their next move.
The odds were better now, one cannibal unconscious, one probably with a sprained ankle, and me with my trusty six inch knife.
"Why even fight?" the biggest cannibal, whose name I later learned to be Charlie, said slowly.
"Ya, just put the knife down. Don't be an idiot and hurt yourself, we just want to talk," said the small one whom I knocked down earlier and whose name was dewy.
"Is that what you told my father and the other sane men of Toronto before they defended our homes?" I yelled back at them angrily.
"What was your father's name sonny?" asked one who looked familiar to me, named Chris.
"Was it Steevy? Or Jerry? Or Joey"?" asked the one whose name I never learned, and whose last word would be my name.
As soon as the word Joey issued out of the cannibals mouth, I leapt at him, knocking away his own knife and quickly lodging my knife into his open mouth and through the roof of it. Without breaking stride, I swept my knife out of his mouth, twirled around is standing body, and slashed my knife through his grizzly hair and into the base of his skull. Then, doing a combat roll farther out of the circle, I crouched ready for the attack, a three on one. What I wasn't ready for was to look up and see a bow, a six round revolver, and a staff, all pointed at me. I did the only thing that came to me at the time. I launched myself sideways behind a tree. I heard a gunshot make contact with the tree along with the whistle of an arrow whiz inches by my burly shoulders.
"Don't make this hard," Chris started matter of factly.
"Don't make me kill you," I said a lot more calmly than I thought possible.
"Joey, which is your name if I remember right, do you remember me?" Chris asked.
Completely startled, all I said was no.
"You were in my karate class Joey, no one was better than me but you. Do you remember now?" It hit me like a title wave.
"C-C-Chris?" I stammered in complete shock.
"That's right Joey. I am sorry to say we're no longer best friends. You've just killed my best friend."
"What happened to you? Why are you one of them?" I asked, maybe too curious for my own good.
"Well, you see after the war wiped out most of the known population, things got a little dicey. My family tried to stay calm and wait it out, just like the rest of the survivors in Toronto, just like you. But as you could tell I'm sure, the food supply was running short. The nuclear fallout poisoned the ground, ruined the water supplies, and was slowly killing people who didn't get treatment for radiation poisoning before the war started. There was unrest and the people of the America's, not just here Joey, were beginning to think of desperate ways to feed themselves. All thoughts of right and wrong were gone. My family chose to survive. Yours decided to try to live in a dead world and join the Fantasies. It was a stupid decision. I told you that from the beginning. I told you to join my family, join the surviving, but you betrayed the will to survive Joey, you""
"I did survive! I am surviving! I will survive!" I screamed back at my long lost friend.
"Joey, Joey, Joey, you may have survived but your family didn't. How you did survive is beyond me. I thought my father and the Surviving wiped out and ate, yes Joey, ate your entire family and its small band of fantasies. How did you survive if I may ask?"
"When my father and mother were informed of your decisions and will to eat those that wanted the old world back, those you now call the Survivors, he hid me in the well. The well was our safe spot. You know my father; he was very smart and was prepared for anything and everything. He dug a whole other house into the side of the old well. The only way in and out was by means of the rope and bucket. In the well, he hid and stored year's worth of clothes, canned food, water, books on every topic, seeds of plants, and everything else you need to survive. It was here that he put me, promising to return. But he never did. My mother never did. After about two days, I decided to raise myself out of the well and find out what was going on. Once out of the well, I made my way to the house. From the backside, everything appeared normal. The closer I got to the house however, the more wretched the smell became. I had smelt it before; it was the smell of branded cows."
"Hahahaha." Chris, Dewy and Charlie all laughed.
"That's the smell of burning flesh." One of them yelled.
"Yes, your right." I said gravely from behind the tree. "I then walked through my house and came to the front door. Sighing, I took a deep breath. And saw the Surviving."
"I remember that day," Dewy said excitedly. "We had just beaten the Fantasies in an all out war. The Surviving was celebrating by having a huge bonfire and engorging ourselves for the first time in months!" He told me with a grunt of agreement from Charlie.
"I was too young to be in the battle," said Chris, for the first time sounding a little shaken up. "My dad was killed though"killed by your father," he said, as angry as I'd ever heard anyone before.
While we were talking, they were so caught up in their remarks of victory and loss of family; they failed to notice my voice had moved above them. I had climbed the tree and was slowly making my way above them.
"Joey, just come out, we don't want to hurt you," what sounded like dewy enticed.
Now above them, I could clearly see my situation. Dewy had the revolver, Charlie my bow and arrows, and Chris the staff. They were slowly making their way towards the tree they thought I was behind. With just the firelight flickering in the darkness, I lowered myself down so I was hanging by my feet. I was literally an arm's length away from Dewy, who was farthest back in line.
Quietly and quickly, I attacked. I put a hand over his mouth and slid my knife up into his brain via the back of the head and base of the skull. I then grabbed under his pits and did a full sit up back onto the tree, lifting the now dead cannibal with me. Laying the cannibal on the branches and prying the gun from his hands, I watched as the two remaining cannibals attacked the nonexistent me behind the tree. Chris expertly would have crushed my skull, and Charlie would have shot me in the chest. Then seeing there were two hits, no gunshot, and no me, they looked around frantically.
"MMMMM"" moaned the toe-sucker who was coming around.
Not wanting it to be three on one again, I dropped to the ground, rolled, and put a shot between the eyes of the toe-sucker. I heard a crack of a twig behind me and leaned back. A hardened wood pole came billowing right where my head was. Lying on my back, I rolled over, took aim at my once best friend Chris, and fired.
I pulled again
I pulled it twice more, willing for a bullet.
I then felt a hot burning sensation in my right shoulder. I gave a sweeping kick at Chris who was knocked to the ground and sprinted for the trees. While running I glanced over to Charlie to see if he would pursue. He was in the process of what, I'd soon find out to be, lighting another arrow with the fire. It struck the tree beside me. I then knew I had to take the offensive approach. I threw my knife end over end; straight into what I thought would be his heart. Slowly, he fell to his knees, my bow at his feet saying, "I never wanted to be this."
"Argh! I'll kill you! I'll kill you for killing Dewy and Charlie! I swear I'll kill you! I'll avenge my father's death and then I'll eat you; something that should have happened eleven years ago!" He screamed, completely deranged.
I was sprinting through the forest when I realized something. This was my forest. I'd been living and surviving here for the past eleven years, I knew it better than anyone else. I knew what I had to do.
"Come and get me Chris, I know I'm still better than you, just like my father was better than you!" I hollered taunting back.
"I'll eat you! I swear I will!" he yelled.
"What happened to the rest of the "Surviving" Chris? Why are you all alone? Did another old friend kill them all?" I asked, trying to get answers out of him while I lead him to his death.
"We're all that's left." He said, breathing very hard. "The rest of the surviving was killed when we attacked a colony of Fantasies in Oregon!" he yelled.
"Why didn't you tough ole guys win?" I taunted. "After all, you are cannibals!"
"We thought we had them outmanned. We were wrong." He said, sounding as if he were going to pass out.
My plan was to run him tired, and if talking helped that, then I was going to keep it going.
"How far is this encampment from here?" I asked, hoping to God he wasn't lying.
"A-bout five-hun-dred mil-es," he stammered back, barely keeping up with me now.
"I see!" I yelled, while taking the biggest leap over the deepest crevice in the forest. The crevice that has ice about 70 feet down. I then stopped and turned around.
Still sprinting and not aware of his surroundings because he was blinded by hate and the darkness, was Chris. One second he was there, the other, gone".
"Ahhhhh"" Chris yelled all the way to the bottom".Then nothing but a huge thud was heard.
"I'm sorry." I said aloud to no one.
I slept in the trees the rest of the night. The next morning I slowly took my time to get back to camp, searching the woods for more cannibals all the while. If Chris wasn't lying, then all of the Canadian cannibals that called themselves the Surviving would have perished with him. But the whole world was in the nuclear holocaust and its people are starving. The whole living world had to make a choice.
I know there are more cannibals out there. I know the time may come when I may have to battle them again. But when that time comes, I want to have the people who have been labeled the Fantasies on my side. It was for that reason I now write this in you Diary. It is that reason I am now beginning the long trek to Oregon".