1 Misty
[Diary: Foggy year, autumn, rain
I don't know why, but it seems that after I woke up, I couldn't remember many things. I couldn't even tell who I was supposed to be. Should I be called Joji? Or maybe George is more palatable?
But no matter what, my prayers were finally answered by God. Not only did I not die from the infection that followed the decay of my wounds and turn into a zombie. More miraculously, my wounds also healed.
Moreover, the mist also seemed to have cleared from around the castle overnight.
Although the outside of the castle walls are still hazy, I can only see the nearest few houses, but I at least do not have to be afraid of the ghostly screams of monsters every day...
But, why are there a few more words on top of my castle?
'Asylum...'
I was sure I wasn't dazzled, and that it wasn't an illusion. Because I could see more words than that...
But this half-collapsed, ramshackle earth castle could be called a shelter?
And who is it?
My people are dead, fleeing, and my father is gone. Who is sheltered in this shelter?
I am the only one left.
This damned and bad world...
But I still have to live. I don't want to die. At least not to starve to death.
The last half of the moldy black bread has been eaten by me, I must get out of this broken castle, to find something to eat outside.
I'm so hungry that I can hardly carry a nail hammer, and I hope I don't run into any zombies or wolves.
God forbid that today's diary should be my last words...]
George put down the pen in his hand, scratching his greasy and dirty hair, looked outside the broken wall of the bedroom that was raining more and more, his eyes gradually coalesced.
This heavy rain is bad, but at least it can cover up some sounds and smells. And wolves should not come out to feed on such rainy days.
Let's hope...
Retracting his gaze, he looked at the weapon at his feet. He seemed to be familiar with this thing, and should have used it a few days ago, because there was still a lot of congealed blood and white brain matter on it.
However, when one looks at it now, there is an additional line of remarks on it.
[A rusty nail hammer]
Such words suddenly appeared in front of his eyes, although it seemed very strange, but he had begun to get used to it...
He seemed to have inherited some memories of this body after he woke up, as if both were himself, making George wonder if he had become one with his other self in a parallel dimension.
Himself was once a salesman, and did not mix well. This life also seems to be just a small trainee priest - the only thing worthy of the name is a son of a baron. But the territory is down to this, I do not know what to do in the future.
Obviously, this is not a good start. Now even find a bite to eat has become a problem...
George shook his head no longer think about it, the only thing he wanted to do now, is to eat.
He drank the last half bottle of sour wine on the table, put on leather gloves, grabbed his nail hammer and canon, and walked out of the room.
There were so many caved-in places in the castle that the stone staircase seemed to be suspended in mid-air. I don't know what had happened some time ago to make it look like this.
Whenever he passed by those gaps, some more words would appear in front of his eyes: [Repairable]. But it seemed that because of the lack of materials and manpower, that word was gray.
The wind and rain were blowing in through the holes. George retracted his gaze from above those words, touched a handful of water on his face, and walked down the stone stairs.
Those family portraits in the corridor have been soaked with water, and there are many black and red handprints and scratches on the walls. I don't know what kind of terrible things they had gone through.
The water on the floor was almost up to George's calves, and the carpet under his feet wrapped around his ankles as if they were soaked bread crusts.
If I wasn't afraid of the plague carried in this dirty water, I would really like to fill my stomach with these 'bread crusts'.
George gulped and touched his rumbling stomach. Trudging through the cloister, he arrived at the main hall of the castle.
The faint smell of blood and foul odor reached his nose, and several corpses were scattered within the main hall.
Their heads were shattered, and they should have done it themselves, but he had some trouble remembering.
It seems that he still has some strength.
Looking at the corpses, George's eyes glowed green, and the big drum inside his stomach thumped.
If he couldn't find bread or something like that today, I'm afraid he'd have to eat meat at night...
'Maybe a boil can really kill the plague.'
There was a clattering sound and the side panel of the main hall was suddenly blown open by the wind. George's hungry eyes looked over to the door and walked towards the side hall on the other side of the door.
By now this side hall connected to the castle had caved in half. Like a torn cake, everywhere is collapsed debris and rubble.
The huge gap above the dome was pouring rain inward, and the dark clouds in the sky were like a whirlpool, connected with the mist.
From those vice-hall gap, looking towards the castle north square, he was able to see that the north side of the castle main gate and walls have completely collapsed down, broken walls and remnants piled up all over the place, directly you can see the endless mists outside the castle.
The heavy rain on this side of the castle fell into the fog, as if eaten up. Maybe it will be the same when people go in.
Only the south end of the vice hall was not shrouded by the mists.
The schoolyard and the big wall on the south side were also in ruins, as if they had been run over by a huge tank. His eyes passed through that ruin and continued outward, then he saw the village houses immediately south of the castle.
Seeing those few houses that were not shrouded by the mist, George couldn't help but feel thankful to God. And those who had been wandering between the ruined wall and the village 'people', now have all disappeared. From the muddy tracks on the ground, it seems to be with the fog out of the shelter.
There was no fog near any of those houses, but there was no telling if there would be anything inside, but he couldn't care less now.
Hungry George lifted his hood and walked through the rain. He stumbled through the rubble, past the ruins of the schoolyard and beyond the ruined wall.
Not far away was the tavern in the territory, and after thinking of the tavern, a fragment of memory suddenly came to mind.
It seemed that he was leaving home as a trainee priest to go to 'St. Before studying at St. Verlake's Cathedral, I often went to the tavern behind my father's back to look for a 'stray'. A 'silver fox' (a large silver coin of fine quality) can comfortably accompany you for a night, although a bit expensive, but is another of the most heartbeat memories of his first love.
There will never be a pretty warbler there now, but there will definitely be food!
Thinking about it, George couldn't help but feel even hungrier.
Although there was no mist here, in that heavy rain, George still couldn't see too far. He could only follow his impressions and speed up his steps. Finally, after a short while, a building that looked somewhat rudimentary appeared in front of his eyes.
A line of gray words appeared in front of his eyes [ramshackle, leaking tavern everywhere]
''It does fit the title.'' George looked around the same and found no spooky figures, so he gripped the nail hammer in his hand and took two big steps into the house.
At first glance there was no one in this, but the faint smell of blood still made George a little nervous. And after closing the door, the sound of ringing came from inside. This can't help but let his heart beat a mess.
The most he can deal with a zombie now, if he runs into a wolf or some other monster, he's dead.
Tavern in the wind and rain creaked, lightning flashed, stiff George to the storage room door over a look, saw a long shadow passing.
Did not bother with it, he was about to go crazy with hunger, so now, even if he has to die, he has to do a full death ghost!
