This War of Mine: A Lost Journal

This is a journal detailing my last playthrough of This War of Mine:

Day 1: Pavle and Bruno have moved in with me to this drafty, derelict mansion. Yet, we couldn't find anywhere in half the condition so it will have to do. This journal will record our tribulations and triumphs, while hopefully guiding us to the end of this abominable war.

Tonight I raided a house down the street. I felt confident no one would be there because it was on fire: a sort of small smoldering one around the eaves, safe for a quick visit, but not innocuous enough to live in. There were a number of locked doors and cabinets but I didn't have any method of opening them. Maybe next time.

Day 2: I decided to go to the same house Katia raided last night. It was still on fire, but nothing I couldn't handle. Bruno stayed home to do some work around the house; cooking the food, patching up the place. There aren't too many valuables left here already, just odds and ends. The real limiting factor for what I bring home is wood and scraps to make chairs and beds with. I can run fast, but can't carry much at once.

Day 3: Pavle said it wasn't worth my time searching the burning house (and by now its bound to be ashes) so I decided to check out a new place. Didn't seem too dangerous, rumor was a couple homeless people lived there. We need a few weapon parts so we can build an axe. Then we can break down the furniture at home for wood and materials. But part of the homeless building was blocked by a grate. I'll need to make a saw to break through. I met a homeless man and he begged me for some food. I didn't have any one me at the time but I promised to come back with some. I'm sure we can spare a bit.

Day 4: Pavle selflessly and selfishly went out to aid in rescuing other survivors from a collapsed building. Now I have to venture out for a second night in a row. And we're short on food! I know it makes him feel like he has control over his life, but his actions are risking ours.

This night was the worst I've ever lived. I went to search for food at an abandoned home. Only it wasn't abandoned. I'm not very stealthy, but I was surprised when the front door opened in my face without warning. A young man stood there, and he told me to leave, but we are starving, and I could smell the food cooking inside. I knew I shouldn't push past him, people are desperate and dangerous, but I decided I couldn't go home empty handed. I brushed by him and entered the foyer. He yelled at me to stop. Looking around I saw a tool box at my feet so I opened it. Inside was the axe we sorely need. I closed the box, then opened it again. Before I knew what I'd done, I had taken the axe out. The man grabbed me roughly on the shoulder, yelling into my face, “What are you doing!”

I panicked, and tried to push him away, but the axe was in my hand and he stumbled back with a gaping wound and blood everywhere. I fled. Looking over my shoulder I could see him stand up, and draw a pistol from his pocket. He didn't fire: maybe he understood my error, or maybe I was already too far away for him to risk the few bullets he had. I feel miserable beyond belief, but I can't apologize. Can you see how that would turn out?

Day 5: Katia spent the day moping a bit, while Bruno used our new axe to break down old cabinets and whatnot so we use them for firewood. I know Katia feels terrible about what she did, but having the axe is a lifesaver. Only problem, we still don't have food, and I know they do. I'm going back tonight to see if I can sneakily scrounge any.

But I wasn't able to. Frightened of running into the injured man, I skulked about the place. I could hear him speaking to another man inside. Sounded like his dad. Poor guys. I avoided them, while taking some more of their stuff. We now have a bit to eat. Won't last long though.

Day 6: Bruno doesn't feel he's qualified to write in the journal because his day consists of work at the house and guarding at night. Sometimes we let him sleep. But the two of us couldn't believe Pavle stole food from the man and his son, after everything I did. And my action was accidental, while Pavle's was intentional. To think they might be starving right now. So I've decided I have to make good. I'll bring some food to the malnourished homeless man.

But as I looked for him in the dispiriting shelter I ran into another man who was healthier and fitter. He led me to a tarp. The intended recipient of my gift had already passed on. If I had only been a few days sooner. I rooted around a bit for some goods to bring home.

Day 7: Bruno here. We couldn't get much out of Pavle when he came home tonight. He was covered in blood, and carrying a shotgun. Sounds like he went to risky part of town, got trapped in the middle of a house with a group of thugs, and had to fight his way out. He won't eat, smoke, or even move from the chair he sat down in when he returned. Hopefully he gets better. We need him. We won't make it without him.

Day 8: We all talked a bit today. Tried to bring each other up. Pavle's still broken.

Katia wrote that first bit. But I've taken over again. Pavle won't even put pen to paper. This is the end I think, so perhaps it doesn't matter, but I'd like to think I can still make it without them. Katia went to a new location which was open to trading. We had a bit of jewelry to give to them. But some observers (and I can't name them for fear of retribution) say as she approached the entrance, a guard saw her coming and gunned her down with a rifle. Maybe it was the shotgun she carried, or maybe they're just villains. We still have no food, and now no Katia. We'll measure their mettle tomorrow.

Day 10: I've decided there's nothing left to lose. If I die, I die, but I'm going to keep trying. Bruno didn't come back, just like Katia. It was his first night outing, and he was old. He couldn't do what needed to be done. I've already killed. And that was out of mistaken circumstances. I won't feel sorry this time.

I've been to hell and returned. The brand new hotel, that had been occupied by gangsters, has been cleaned of its vileness. I went back, found Katia dead at the entrance, but no shotgun. I dared further, up two flights of stairs and past a pile of tortured bodies. The occupants are/were demented. Then I found Bruno. He was still kneeling in a corner and looking through an open door, with three men dead nearby. Of course, he wasn't really looking, and I gently took the weapon from his unresisting hands. I closed his eyes and laid him down. And then I went hunting. Four of them there still were, and we battled on the stairs and across the halls for two hours until they were silent. The last tried to flee but I got him from the window. Looking around I found a man tied up in a bathroom and I set him free, but he ran away before we could speak. I have tons of supplies, but I'm alone. I need to sleep.

Day 11: I'm not feeling too bad after yesterday. The scum deserved it. And I deserve another night of sleep.

Day 12: I've decided there's only one way to live alone. By taking everything I need at the point of a gun. I may go insane, but it's the singular option left.

Day 13: I built a trap to catch small animals and eat them. Resting tonight. Probably need to rest every other day.

Day 14: There needs to be a better way to secure the premises. I woke up to a strange noise, like breaking glass. I stood and walked up the stairs to the first floor without any conscious thoughts. Suddenly someone started shooting and I ducked behind the fridge. I fired back and they fled. But when I went back to the bed I realized I'd been shot. I can't do this alone. When I woke up again I couldn't even think of venturing out, so I drank a whole bottle of alcohol from a cabinet. In taste, it might as well have been drain cleaner, but...

Day 15: I woke up today with a terrible headache and a huge pile of fresh vegetables by the bed. Don't know how they got here. There was also another broken window and some missing equipment so I bet someone broke in again. But why did they dump a ton of carrots on the floor?

Meanwhile, it's gotten a bit colder, 57 degrees, and I was considering not writing in this journal any more. But today a young woman calling herself Arica came to the house and asked if she could join me! My hope is renewed. She seems able enough. When I explained how to survive on her first night venture, she laughed at me, and said “what do you think I've been doing all this time,” and then demonstrated how when she runs, she's as silent as a leaf falling on pine needles. I'm much faster, but I can't beat her for stealth. I told her to visit the Hotel as her first run, since it's empty and still has a lot of stuff.

Day 16: Raided again, again! If these don't stop we won't make it. We really need a third person so we can rotate: sleeping, guarding, and scavenging. Arica spent the day complaining about the lack of cigarettes, so I was really glad to go to the hospital. Didn't steal, but took some equipment they didn't care about.

Day 18: You remember when I went to help other survivors early in the journal. Well, Arica went today to help with a shelter. I need to sleep.

Day 19: I won't go into the details, but another night where I tried to sleep, woke up to a break in (I realized right away this time), but was still wounded. Last time I was at the hospital they said I looked ok, but offered to help if I ever needed it.

So I went back and they bandaged me right up. I took some more stuff they didn't want, and it was a good night.

Day 20: First day of putting wood in the makeshift furnace.

Day 21: Built a second trap to catch food. Would never have imagined I'd eat mice. Was really cold today, 42 degrees. Bound to get worse.

We are ever more desperate than I could have imagined. The longer I live, the more willing I am to keep going. So last night I went back to the father and son from only a week or two ago. If you remember, Katie had injured one, and I'd stolen from them. I went back, and I demanded any food and medicine they had. When the son threatened me, I shot him. Then I killed the father too, as he wouldn't have survived on his own. I care and I don't care. But they didn't have that much. Won't last us more than a day or two.
Day 22: This is my first time writing in the journal, but I'm not Arica. Name's Anton. I was a math professor, but now I'm just one more bum on the road. Decided to join these young folks. They seemed like they could use a father figure. Sat them down, spoke to them, comforted them, and volunteered to go out. Pavle says he's sending me to a deserted hotel. The army has started a saturation bombing of the city, and we can't go far without serious risk. It limits the places we can scavenge.

That hotel is a horror show. The rotting bodies, everywhere covered in flies! I don't think I can do this.

Day 23: Arica here. Been in the house for a week, but haven't written anything. Everyone is hungry, and we have some food, but no water to cook it with.

I went to the house Katia visited on day one . The burning one. It's still standing and still on fire! I looked around but everything was taken except whatevers behind a locked door. Will have to bring a tool next time.

Day 24: Arica went with this guy named Hoyt to an abandoned area for supplies. I haven't been out much. Anton has been taking care of everything. I heard there's a church nearby with a priest who sometimes hands out supplies if he can afford too. We need some.

Day 25: Pavle died last night. I think, with his death, the house is dead too. I can smell it. He was its foundation, and now he's gone. Pavle had become disturbed by the war. He, like all of us, was transformed into a terror we'd never hoped to be. I'm going to find out what happened. I'm going to the church tonight.

Day 26: It's cold (46 degrees), and both Arica and I are exhausted. We can barely move with illness, tiredness, hunger, and injuries. But I'll tell you Pavle's story. He went to the church last night and spoke to the priest. Apparently they were out of free supplies. But Pavle wasn't one to be turned away so easily when his friends were in need. With his shotgun he descended into the chambers under the church where a small community flourished with food, water, and medicine. One man told him to stop. Pavle didn't heed the warning. Seeing Pavle armed with a gun, the man cornered him and stabbed him to death, deep in the church's bowls. I went down there, recovered the gun and shot Pavle's killer. Everyone else cowered. I let them live, but I took some desperately needed food and medicine as payment for Pavle. Not that it can replace him.

Day 27: Anton thinks he's in charge now Pavle's gone. As if being a divine force of retribution elevates him. I saw him sneaking medicine from the cabinet. He's sick and he isn't going to pull through.

Day 28: I read what Arica wrote yesterday. It's depressing the last thing she wrote was an envious, depreciating thought about me. But I don't blame her. All hope died with Pavle in the church. How ironic. Now it's too cold (35), and I'm an old man. I can't maintain the place alone.

Re-reading the journal I'm struck by Pavle's decision on day 12 to become a highway man of the rudest sort. At the time I couldn't imagine anyone risking so much for another day. Now, I'm alone and I've another soul to avenge. I stepped outside and there was snow on the ground.

So white and clean midst the wreckage. I melted some for a meal I'll never cook. I'm going where Arica went... and Pavle...

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