I happen to have a rather chilling tale myself. Though, unlike a few tales that are tossed from town to town, this one does not end with death - no, instead we continue to dwell on, still holding the fear and paranoia that the strange, unexplainable chain of events left us with... I suggest the light-hearted do not continue to read, lest they forever become too wary of what hit us. It was night. My watch showed the time of 6:15 PM - strange, I thought, we should still have a few hours of daylight left. Regardless, my friend and I continued to head south-west through Chernogorsk, picking up some basic supplies that we had recently become in need of - food, drink, and one-or-two bandages. We wandered through the town, having just left the eastern medical tents with a nice pack of supplies. Morale was high, and even though shrouded by darkness and the undead, we continued to laugh and smile. We were heavily armed, which most likely contributed to our more "off-guard" nature. We were still wary, though.. though obviously not enough. I was carrying a nice .50 cal DMR rifle and a silenced pistol, accompanied by several clips for each, while my friend held an M4A1 CCO - his handgun was unknown to me at the time. We made our way to the supermarket, zig-zagging through the streets in an efficient direction. Suddenly my friend stopped. "Did you see that?" he asked, most unnerved. "See what?" I said, only a little concerned. He paused before replying, most likely searching for words. "I just saw a figure run across the road." I looked across the road, down each street I could see without moving. "I don't see anything.." I said, now worrying slightly as the darkness got to me. We continued to the supermarket. We decided to enter from separate doors - my friend coming in though the back entrance, and I through the main doors. As I went around the store by myself, my eyes twitched to a movement through the big broken windows. Instantly, I told my friend. "Possible hostile in front of store. On guard, weapon ready. Open fire if need-be." This put us both on full alert as we continued to enter the store. I climbed up the steps, as my friend watched the back entrances to catch the imposter if he tried to leave. I got to the counter - the whole main room was empty. "No visual," I said. "Neither," replied my friend. We continued into the store, looting all that we could fit in our packs. "Do you ever get that feeling?" my friend asked. I laughed a little. "What feeling?" "That you're being watched.." I stopped laughing and looked at him. "Deven, don't scare me," I said. "No, really, I mean it. The sense that someone has their eyes on the back of your head.." Again, I laughed. "I'm sure you'd feel it if someone had their eyes on your head - must be quite slimy, I guess." And then suddenly, over the VOIP came a chillingly slow "Guuueeessss wwwhhhoooooo!" I darted around, as did my friend, to see a survivor holding a hatchet staring at as from the doorway behind the counter. We instantly opened fire on the man. But, though it should have been obvious, I was holding a .50 CAL in my hands. The city was pierced by a tremendous roar of my bullet. "Fucking hell, Harry! Why did you shoot him with a 50?" Deven said, already running from the store. I followed, looking behind me to see hoards of the undead flowing into the building after us. "I had my pistol out! I swear I did! I remember changing when I came in!" We proceeded in a hurry to our Jeep, parked on the edge of the forest north of Chernogorsk. We got in, and headed to the nearest road. "Fuck's sake!" he said. "That was close!" "Yeah. Tell me about it. But did you see a death message from the man?" I asked. "No.. perhaps we left him unconscious." Even though he had been shot several times by an M4A1, and once by a sniper rifle, I didn't choose to argue. We followed the road north of Chernogorsk, going towards the town of Nadezhdino, just talking along the way. We arrived there, looted a little, and left, not wanting any more drama. Then, we decided to take the sloped road from Nadezhdino to Kozlovka, hoping to pick up a final lot of loot for the day. We were driving up the road, the Jeep having a little trouble, though managing to tackle the harsh slops from Nadezhdino. "Woah! Did you see that? Something just ran across the road!" my friend said. "Ugh!" I was getting annoyed by all this. "When we get to the top of the road, pull into the verge and we'll set up camp - we're obviously being followed." We crept up the slops, and eventually pulled into the trees on the brow of the hill. My friend left the lights on to give us some sight in the trees. We set up a tent in the small lit patch and decided to take a breather. Footsteps neared, and I pulled out my pistol. "ME AGAIN!" came a scream from next to the Jeep. I turned, only to see the silhouette of the hatchet man in the blinding light of the vehicle's headlights. I aimed down my M9's iron sights, and opened fire with my friend. WHACK I was holding my .50... I had hit then engine block of the Jeep. Almost instantly, it exploded into flames. All I could see was a body fly away from the car a few feet, a hatchet in his hand. -silence- "What the hell!?" said my friend, as if asking what happened. However, I was more interested in the body I saw. I walked over to it, only to find a charred corpse holding a hatchet on the floor, lit by the burning Jeep behind me. I inspected his body. His name was Innocent, it appears he died from The Haunted. No death messages ever appeared for either times we "killed" Innocent.
