Responder's Personal Log
- Morgantown Airport terminal: On the dead Responder, locked in the upstairs storage closet by the command post.
It's been a few hours. I can hear them clawing at the door. I've locked myself in a storage closet but.. ... I don't think the door opens from the inside. It's okay. Everything's okay. Acute stress reaction. Panic and emotional distress. Breathe. Breathe.
I would guess it's been 24 hours since the attack. The sound of combat has... *weeps* ... has stopped. They're still outside. I have roughly 8-10 weeks, provided a source of fluids. Starvation onset within 10 days. Effects of psychological shock ongoing but repressed. I can worry about the PTSD later.
I .. believe it's been three days, three nights. Adrenaline has dissipated. I'm so thirsty. I'm so h-hungry. I still can't unlock the door. Must conserve strength. Using energy to bang on the door or yell has proven wasteful. A source of fluid nourishment has not been found.
No one is coming. No one is coming for me. My f-friends .. are all--all... all dead. *weeps*
Children. Were born into this violent world. And -- *laughs* and left so violently from it. My god.
Never.. n-never.. leave. Don't. Feel hungry. Thirsty. No one is coming. First lumbrical. Index finger. Flex MP joint. *winces* It hurts. Flex. MP joint. Extend. IP joint. And... contract muscle. There. We. Go.