It was practically a living nightmare.
Only a few weeks ago, the entire world had a blackout. Some theorized it could classify as an EMP, as no electronic devices could function anymore. Thank goodness it was summer, or people would be freezing to death. Well, then again, people were dying of heat stroke. That wasn't too far off from freezing, except one happens in one climate, and another happens in a totally different one.

My name is Bell, and I'm a nyctophobic living in a world-wide blackout.

The world was starting to adjust slowly to the new, electronic-less world we lived in now. We still had our devices, and I checked my computer daily for any signs of life. None. The thing wouldn't even turn on for a millisecond. To make things worse, people who had even slight access to electricity were scouted for by the government to give them all the power they had. But, since no one did, no one was dragged to D.C and asked to work for them. Well, ok, forced to work for them.

I walked through the forests near my home, gun in hand. Afterall, we needed to eat.
So, wandering around for a while, and unfortunately finding no deer, I sat down at the edge of the pond, feet blistered and sore from the past few days. Usually I wouldn't have a problem with walking around, but thats because I never took long walks. Oh, how I'd love to take a swim in the pond, but the water definitely wasn't safe to drink - let alone swim in - judging by its murky grey-brown color. As I began to stand up, I heard some noises from behind me. Getting out my gun in high hopes it was a deer, I was let down by seeing the face of a squirrel. Sighing, I began to walk away, toes aching. I turned around one last time to see what could be there, when the sight of human movements surprised me. A shadow moving out of the woods, and hopefully they'd have some supplies to share.
"Hello?" I called, having become a bit more outgoing in the past few weeks of no electricity. As I waited for response, I heard an unearthly groan arise from its throat, the "person" turning around and facing me. They had golden, glowing eyes, and their flesh was rotting and dripping off of their bones. The stench I hadn't noticed before filled my nostrils, and I felt like I was about to vomit back up this mornings breakfast. I aimed my gun as it began to charge for me, firing at the head. Missing, I reloaded and fired again. I got them in the eye just before they were touching the barrel of my gun. Looking down at the corpse before me, I put on some latex gloves I carried with me and began to touch their scalp, feeling the skin slip and tear under my fingers. The sight and feeling was absolutely revolting, and I stood up rather quickly. I tossed the gloves down on the ground next to the corpse, and began to walk up to my house while quite alert. Afterall, there could be more of them.

As soon as I arrived home, I began to type on the typewriter:
"Day 23.
Saw no deer today.
Saw something else entirely instead.
It looked human, but it was dead.
It was a dead man walking, which is what terrifies me.
Afterall, zombies only exist in storybooks.
Right?"

I took the paper out and set it down ontop of a binder. When the world-wide blackout was finally over, I'd be submitting my logs to a newspaper or to a publisher. Afterall, I had always wanted to be a writer.
I began to lie down on my couch, closing my eyes and trying to recall the events of last nights dream. It was one I had been having for quite a while, and it scared me somewhat.

In the dream, there was a slightly tall woman with raven black hair and sky-blue eyes, her appearance formal and very business-like. She was speaking, but hardly any of the words registered as English. She seemed frantic, as if in a hurry and having not a lot of time. The dream was mostly a blur other than the words 'find them' and 'untoten'. Untoten could translate to undead, which is what frightened me.

I felt a chill up my spine after remembering the creature I had seen in the woods, and then thought. Could she be speaking of the thing I shot? It looked slightly human, but dead at the same time-
Those thoughts stopped me, my eyes widening. Maybe, just maybe, she knew something I didn't? But, dreams were just dreams! They didn't mean anything! Well, atleast, I thought so.
I got up, taking off my boots and wandering through my house. I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and dipped it into a bucket of water, taking a sip. I was glad I had a well on the property, otherwise I'd be as thirsty as some of those city-folk whom didn't know where to get water. I sat down at my kitchen table, the afternoon sun shining through the windows. It was rather hot, but I didn't mind the heat. I grew up in it, afterall.

As soon as night fell, I lit a bunch of candles and sat in my livingroom, reading some old books that I had forgotten about until twenty-three days ago, when the black-out occured. I let the images of knights and princesses and towers and dragons dance in my head, fantasy having always been a favorite genre. It wasn't long until I blew the candles out, using a lantern to wander down my hallway. I lied down in bed, saying a quick prayer I had been saying since I was five, and blew the light out.

The same dream occured, this time more vivid. The woman seemed even more frantic than on previous nights, her eyes wide and her hands moving rapidly in a blur of colors and movement. We were standing in a white room, no colors around us. I often found myself here in dreams when something was wrong, and I never could pinpoint why.
"Warum kann-" She stopped, seeing I was staring directly at her. Apparently, on previous nights, I hadn't completely acknowledged her existance. She cleared her throat, her words shaking and trembling.
"A- are you able to- to hear me?" she asked. I gave a nod, and she forced a light smile. She had a bleeding scratch on her arm, and her hair was messy, as if having not been combed for days.
"G- good. Oh dear, I was starting to think you couldn't even see me!" She said with a forced, nervous laugh. I gave no response, watching her. She began to repeat the message she had been trying to give me for goodness knows how long, this time a bit clearer. Some of her words connected, making sense, as if they were painting a picture in my head. I began to feel a sting in my arm aswell, and she sighed. A dot where a syringe might have poked me appeared on my upper arm, quite close to my shoulder.
"115's in your veins, you need to be careful." she said, her voice distorted, and sometimes almost a whisper.
I opened my mouth to respond, staring at her in disbelief. I had studied about element 115, or ununpentium, out of curiosity a few years ago, when I was in highschool, and it was apparently a very dangerous element that had been used in WWII by the nazis.
"What...?" I asked. But, as soon as she looked like she was going to respond, I awoke.

Staring up at my ceiling, eyes flying open, I remembered only bits of the dream at that point. It was early morning, the mist outside quite thick. I got up, stepping out of my room and into the hallway. It was rather dark, and my mind began to run wild with the possibilites of what could be lurking in the shadows. I tried to shut them out, and kept walking.
I sat down at my kitchen table, but found my mind going to another topic: 115. Wasn't it radioactive? Wasn't it deadly? Those thoughts filled my head, along with various voices telling me their opinions.

I sighed, getting up and beginning to fix myself some breakfast. Grits was easy enough. I had a campfire area in my backyard, and a flint and steel. I lit the fire, getting out a few cups of water and a bag of grits. I had bought some the day before the blackout, and thank goodness they lasted a while.

After breakfast, it was time to work on some chores. I got up, putting out the fire and walking inside, checking the indoor food supplies and checking how much water I had. It seemed to be good, and the house was clean enough to leave it alone for a little while.
Grabbing my rifle, I began to wander around the back property. The pasture was green and bright, and it was again a sunny day. I wandered through the forest until I felt a cold chill. No wind was blowing, so it couldn't be a breeze causing this. I kept walking nonetheless, all the way to back where I had killed that... that creature, monster, whatever it should be called, and noticed it had rotted almost completely away. The stench that lingered after the corpse was nearly decomposed was enough to make even the strongest of iron stomachs churn. Running my fingers through my hair, I began to walk around a bit more. It was as if there was another sort of presence in the forest, because I found myself turning to look over my shoulders a lot more than I normally did. I needed to kill a deer soon, since the neighbors wanted to eat aswell. Afterall, if they catch anything big, we all share. If I catch anything big, we all share. We take care of eachother here, which is another reason I'm glad I don't reside in the city, considering it seems its every man for themselves there.
Gripping my rifle tighter, I stepped down a rather large slope and noticed something; there were ropes hanging, as if tents had been there a while back. The ropes were almost completely rotted by the elements, and judging by the condition of some of the blankets, everything was very old. I looked around, checking over my shoulders once more and walking forward. It wasn't long until I stumbled upon a ragged old diary, and for some reason, something compelled me to read it.
"Monat, Januar. Tag, 14, 1942."

Monat? Tag?
It all was written in German, and I couldn't translate some of it right off the bat. Some of it even appeared to be faded away, the ink washed out by rain or something. I put it in my jeans pocket, and began to walk back up to the house. I had an English to German dictionary, and decided to put it to use. My German skills were rather rusty, since I had been learning it in school and forgot most of it once I graduated.
I set the diary down in my kitchen, going through some books and finding the dictionary after a good while of searching. I began to translate it, and wrote down everything I thought was correct.
Once I was done, I stared down at what was written. It was clear now that the diary owner wasn't on their side of the war, if it was legit.

"Month, January. Day, 14th, 1942.

I have been here under doctor Maxis's orders for quite a while now, and it appears the experiments are going well. I have learnt how to imitate the southern accent, and am working to get as much 115 through to the operatives in Der Riese via teleportation as fast as possible.
-Gunther Weiss, M.D"

I read it over several times, not quite believing my eyes. My hands began to tremble, having heard of a Gunther Weiss in my childhood. My grandpa had mentioned him on a few occasions, saying he had been an old friend until the government found out he was a nazi. Then, he was taken away for questioning and never seen again. I chuckled at some of the stories I remembered being told, and then got up. I began to walk to the front door, wanting to have put that away as soon as possible.

Wandering around for quite a while, I stumbled upon the same area I had found the diary at. I felt something drawing me to what appeared to be an overgrown circular structure, probably no bigger than three feet in diameter, and maybe about ten inches tall. I approached, taking some of the branches and leaves off of it. Before 23 days ago, I was a complete germaphobe. Now I didn't mind having blood and dirt on my hands, and it was surprising how one event can change a person.
I noticed a metallic surface under all of the weeds and the dirt, and began rubbing at the sides. It felt like steel, oddly enough. As soon as I had dusted everything off of it and tugged the weeds off, I stood back and stared at it. It appeared to be a sort of device, that obviously didn't work nowadays. What that woman in my dreams had said to me began to cloud over any other thought; "115's in your veins, you need to be careful." I let those words replay inside my head, my thoughts oriented around that one sentence. I soon shook it off, and began to cover up the device so no one else could find it, if they stumbled upon this camp. I grabbed my rifle, and began to walk when I heard shuffling. Aiming, I saw the same type of figure approaching me like yesterday. I fired a shot at its shoulder, but that made it angry and it let out such a scream that made my blood run cold. I fired once more at the head, and finally shot it in the bridge of the nose with a sickening crack. It fell to the ground, the eyes now white and certainly dead. I sighed, but noticed more. There were two or three more, maybe four, coming out of the woods. They seemed to be screaming, one of them saying 'Sam' as it got close to me.
Sam? Who's Sam?
I shot as fast as I could, reloading and firing just in time. The third one nearly got me in the neck, and that would not have ended well. I began to run out of the forest, turning to check for any more. None, thank goodness. I made my way to the small house, setting aside my rifle as soon as I got inside. No more hunting for me today, I decided.