Hope

<Timestamp: 09.07.2072>

<Hope.MP3 is playable. Play?>

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<I leave this log in hopes that some sapient being finds it, in hopes my struggle was not in vain, hoping that the sanctuary I have built for both non-mutated animals and humans alike will not be reduced to dust in the face of time.

If you find this, head to the former city of Bellingham, Washington; Our base has been set up at the sheriff's department at the junction between Lottie Street and Grand Avenue.

Come to the shelter and hope for survival. Without our gathering, the future of humanity will be bleak. We need to gather before the radiation picks us off one by one.

*Coughing*

I can feel the radiation killing me with each passing day, hastening my own demise. We can only hope to gather and procreate in time to prevent our entire species from dying out.

The radiation isn't our only threat, though. The animals, reptiles, even plants and fungi. They're mutating; evolving. Every mutated beast we have encountered has attacked us on sight. If you encounter one of such beasts, your best option is to flee. But this is only viable if it hasn't noticed you.

If it has noticed you, you can either accept your death, praying to whatever god you believe in, or you can stand your ground and try and fight the monstrosity that you have awoken.

The only reason we have been able to fight off such abominations is because I am slowly turning into one as well.

I can understand why the beasts want to kill us.

*Coughing*

The pain and misery that the mutation brings slowly drives you mad. I do my best to control it, but my madness awakens when I am fighting, and the only way for me to at least temporarily stop the pain is by feasting on the unfortunate beast that crossed those I chose to protect.

I say this because I hope that those unfortunate enough to have evolved to have a life that isn't filled with only suffering.

If you have mutated, I pray that you may stave off the madness it incurs.

My time draws ever closer with each breath.

*Coughing*

I wish fervently that my dream of a united settlement of humans shall come to fruition prior to my death.

But....It seems that God has other plans for me.

It is doubtful such a thing will occur.

To whomever finds this, I wish you good luck and a strong resolve. You'll need it.>

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I turned off the beaten MP3 player and turned my gaze westward excitedly.

Maybe there was hope for humanity after all.

Maybe we could survive through the nuclear winter caused by WWIII.

It wasn't a distant hope anymore. Someone had made a base of operations all the way in Washington.

I payed very close attention to his choice of words, and was acutely aware of the fact that he said 'we'.

This gave me even more hope that me, personally, had a chance.

I began my thousand-mile trek with a meal of disgustingly mutated wolf. Its filthy fur had scaled, its size had quadrupled, its eyes were reptilian slits, and its front right paw was that of a bear paw.

I easily dispatched it with my own mutated arm that looked like an ant's leg. I had initially been disgusted by the change in my appendage before I learned its utility.

Without hesitation I dug into my meal with gusto.

I finished my grotesque and bloody meal that had been recommended by the man on the tape, and found it did indeed help with the pain.

I had never considered eating the mutated animals would give this effect; I thought they would poison me further.

But the man on the tape was right. And that made me want to meet him that much more.

I travelled through the ash grey landscape that bore the scars of a nuclear war.

I traversed craters a quarter mile in diamiter, I fought mutated beasts that were roaming, and, after nearly six months of travel, I made it to the coastal city of Bellingham.

To my shock, Bellingham was almost untouched by the war; it had entire buildings left standing!

I walked through the city, following the signs in a systematic manner, hoping I could find the rest of the people.

At long last, I arrived at that police station.

"Anyone home?" I shouted into the seemingly-empty building.

A man in his mid-to-late-seventies opened the door and hobbled out to greet me.

"Hello, young man." The man greeted me warmly. "It's been a long time since I've seen anyone."

"Wait..." I had a hypothesis that I desperately hoped was wrong. "What happened to everyone else? What happened to the sanctuary?"

"Ah, the sanctuary." The man gazed up at the cloudy sky. "Unfortunately, everyone who came to this sanctuary has died."

"My only beacon of hope...The only reason I came here was to meet the old man!" I shouted at the man, gripping his shoulders. "WHAT HAPPENED?"

"He died." The elderly man said simply. "His mutation got the better of him and he took every life but mine when it did."

I sat down on the ground, ignoring the man as he hobbled back into the police station, ignoring my hunger; my thirst, waiting to die.

I had one reason to live, and that reason was now gone. All hope I had was shattered like glass.

By the time I felt death approaching, I felt relived. I wouldn't have to suffer anymore.