I don't know if you want us to reply here or send you a PM, but here's my story. Although I probably won't be able to keep this in diary form at all, I feel the need to tell it anyway. Feel free to transpose this however works for you OP. Today I spent about 5 hours playing. I met up with a guy in Elektro, and he gave me a blood transfusion in exchange for me giving him one too. We subsequently decided to team up seeing as how we were both alone at the time. We spent the first hour tensely sneaking around zombie hotspots, scavenging in and out of barns and houses for food and other supplies, hoping to find me a gun. He was armed and I wasn't, which I guess is why he trusted me. He confided in me, telling me he didn't enjoy killing players, and that he was from Singapore. All the way from the other side of the globe. I was fascinated by this, and I had spent by now 2 hours cooperating with a guy that was in a time zone 12 hours away from mine. We headed north for a long time, following a major road and getting meat from animals when we could. Night was fast approaching. After we had traveled north for almost 3 hours in the pitch black darkness, we stumbled across a town, and I couldn't tell you the name if I tried. We had had several close encounters on the way there, and it was a great feeling cresting a hill and seeing a town sprawling out from us, just waiting to be looted. We were surviving, and surviving in style. I found a Makarov and several mags, enough to kill anything I came across way easier than the hatchet I had been wielding earlier. It was around this time my friend, whom I called "Singapore" in my head, had 10 minutes left before he had to leave for dinner. It was at this time, or was it all along, that I formulated the idea in my head I could kill him if I wanted. 2 quick headshots were all that separated me from a nice pile of loot-- and my own demons. Minute 10. The idea came to the forefront of my mind. I quickly shot it down. He was my friend. He hadn't wronged me. Minute 9. The thought refused to go away. Two trigger squeezes. It will all be over, and I'll get a shiny new gun. But I can't do it. I refuse to. Minute 8. My heart races, my right finger becomes too itchy to scratch with anything other than the trigger of my Makarov. Minute 7. He stops and eats a can of beans. The nerve of him to eat beans while I plan his doom! Time to-- no. NO. My breath quickens, my hands shake, Minute 6. Boom. Boom. I hear the gunshots ring out, and I quickly go prone. Who is shooting at us? I see Singapore drop dead in front of me. Whoever did this shall pay. Minute 5. He lays dead at my feet. Two bullet holes in his head. Not the front, but from the back, where I was standing. The only one who could have shot him was me, in cold blood. It takes me a full 3 minutes to realize what I have done. A pang of regret hits me like a freight train. I take his gun, I take his empty can of beans, and I move on, questioning my own sanity. This happened to me within the last 6 hours. This is my second day of playing, and the first time I have ever teamed up with someone. I'm sorry for the wall of text, but I hope you can use this somehow. I know I won't forget Singapore for a long time. EDFXNights, if you ever read this, I am sorry. But I couldn't hold back. Edit: Looking at a map now, I see we traveled from Elektro all the way to Gorka. What a crazy and wonderful and gut-wrenching journey.
