AN: Hello everyone, welcome to this anthology of volumes all set in a world that has gone terribly wrong. Each volume will have a subtitle that serves as an overarching theme and descriptor for the volume itself. We sincerely hope you enjoy what you are about to see.

I appreciate any offers of help but please be aware of your critiques; the best reception has something constructive to offer while the worst offers nothing useful.

Disclaimer: This series of anthologies were inspired by Max Brooks's World War Z and the setting, Creature Feature, is the product of RoyalPsycho on deviantART and is being used with his permission. All recognizable characters and concepts belong to the fictions they originate from and those that own the copyright to those fictions. Their interpretations and presentation in the context of this work, however, are best attributed to being under reference primarily.

Diaries of the Damned and Demented

An Oral History of the Waking Nightmare That Replaced Earth

Vol. 1: Survive or Die

The following records have been gathered together in private agreement of those involved. This collection of live accounts is the first of many and hopefully never the only.

The purpose of this, and all future installments, is to leave a record for any future generations, successors, or others with some conceptual idea of what the world currently is.

And thus, this volume of diaries is where it all began; all because of an AI that wanted to know and learn more. While the intention is questionable – especially given the history and allegiances based around the first gatherer – what has been provided is nearly invaluable and gives us, all of us, an idea of what can be done.

Should oblivion come, by the Gozerian, by the opening of Hobbs's End, or by anything else, let these stories remain so that there be something left…

Log Date: 11/05/18*. Location: Former Department of Scientific Intelligence Facility.

I had encountered my first sentient, living, and relatively non-hostile subject in what was a science facility's offices. Mind you, this didn't change the fact that our initial meeting saw her using her mental abilities to conquer fire and she was fairly unfriendly. Had I still been in my failing human body, and not this T-1001, I would be more cautious of the heat. Thankfully, this changed after she gave me a chance to explain myself, why I was in this facility, and what my name was.

Currently, we're sitting in one of the remaining offices and this one was fortunately abandoned of any bodies. She – having introduced herself as McGee to me before – is sitting directly across from myself and fidgets slightly with her old looking bag. After I was composed, I looked towards her and initiated the conversation.

So, psychic abilities?

You're a man whose mind is housed inside of a body made of liquid metal. A body that was made and given to you by an AI that once was a defense military program. How's that any more unbelievable than what I can do?

Fair enough. Why were you at this facility then? Is this a part of that rumor that the former government did experiments with psychic abilities?

(She glares at me. I feel a slight temperature increase.) It's not a rumor. It's a fact. I spent a fair portion of my life trying to avoid an agency trying to use me for weapons research. If it wasn't for the world going insane, I probably would have been in a place like this and been used for who knows what. (She simmers slightly, reaching to a handmade charm around her neck. At first, I think it's a white cross – a common tool against some of the creatures that roam about if my memory serves. However, it's actually in the shape of a white queen chess piece.)

That's a curious charm you've got there. What is it?

This? (She holds up the piece and I nod.) This is the White Queen's symbol. Those of us that were found by her or one of the others, taken in by her, and provided something greater than any one of us could have on our own. I thought I was a freak, that being able to control people's minds, hear their thoughts, have visions of the future, and move things or set them on fire worked to ruin my life. Considering the people that were after me only wanted because of my powers and killed both my parents because of it, I was kind of right. (Her lips curve upward slightly, the hints of a smile starting to appear.) But then, she found me. She found me in the dead of night, cold and alone, and she managed to change everything.

What did she do?

The same thing she did to everyone else that's "unique" like I am, that's alone. She gave us someone who has powers, someone who can do things with their mind or can see things that regular people can't. I found a new family with her and the other psychics she'd found and was finding. We even got our own little niche in this twisted world whenever we're not running around – a place everyone like us can call home.

Witch Mountain, right?

Yeah, heh. (She chuckles lightly, brushing some blonde hair out of her face.) It's kind of funny in hindsight. A bunch of people who have these powers, the type of people some government agency wants to use for whatever reason. And where do they wind up? What place do they call home? A place that used to be a government facility in the East Coast. I'll admit, it's a bit suspect, but considering the alternative is wandering around alone, it's a utopia.

If you have a haven, then why are you so far out here?

Simple, if we stay in the same place then we won't know anything more outside of it. It's best to scout and look around, investigate possibilities that may prove useful. It's how the White Queen found some of us – hell, it's what lead her to looking for me after all. It'd be heartless and hypocritical to leave anyone like us feeling alone or abandoned.

So it's apart of your nomadic lifestyle? Going out and looking for other 'unique' people?

Pretty much. I guess it's something we've adopted after what she's done for us. Considering what she's been through, I can imagine her deciding to look out for us.

That caught my attention. McGee had, up until this point, treated this enigmatic White Queen with a degree of reverence. She must have known more than she was letting on. I decided to push forward, although this may end with me on fire.

Oh? What do you mean by that?

Hmmm?

You just mentioned that this "White Queen" has been through a traumatic experience herself. Was she pursued by a government agency like you were?

McGee seemed hesitant, and I also expected that she'd start roasting me, but instead she took hold of the queen piece again and closes her eyes. It was fairly solemn by all accounts.

I'm not going to say any of this definitely. Not because it's a traumatic experience she's been through, but because it's her past and her past alone. All I'm going to say is that the White Queen got her name for a reason. Not just because she cared about us, but it came from somewhere. (She opened her eyes, despite a blue color, they were like looking into embers.) And it isn't because she's some kind of monarch.

Then, what is the reason?

(Her mouth twitched for a moment.) Once, I found this private room of her's. Don't ask me where it is, or how I found it, the point is I did find it and it was different. There was this cross on a wall, but beyond it there were all these pictures of random people and I got claustrophobic. Like they were all looking at me, even though they weren't there. And then, then there's this display case. (She stops, shivering slightly.) In it, there was this musty looking old brown dress, a dirty old sash and some kind of tiara on the figure's head. Just by looking at it, I can feel so many things from it. I can… (She stopped again, looking bothered.) I could hear these voices. There were some words, but what I remember is a bunch of laughter that then turned into these screams of terror and panic.

McGee stopped once again, but whatever this was it seemed to really have an effect on her. Was this a result of her abilities?

Maybe… maybe she had a bad day?

(Looks sternly at me, as if I said something stupid.) A "bad day"? I never had a normal 'life' exactly, Noah. But even I can tell that whatever the White Queen suffered through, it's a wonder that she managed to recover from it. My parents are dead, I was hunted until the world went insane and then she found me. And yet, despite what I've been through, even I know that she must have suffered something worse. I don't know what exactly, quite frankly I don't even want to know. I never went back into that room, or even looked in its direction. (I can see smoke starting to rise from the desk we've been sitting at. I notice McGee's fingers digging in and scorching the surface.) It's because of terrible shit like that, we go out and try to find others. They shouldn't be forced to suffer anything like I, or the White Queen, or anyone else just because of their powers.

I back my seat away from the desk slightly. A thought enters my mind, a strange one, but given how passionate McGee has been, and what this White Queen sounds like, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

Well, have you or any of the others considered trying to-

No. The answer is no, not, and never.

I should have stopped there, but I was caught off guard by that and the words tumbled out of my mouth.

B-But I didn't even finish-

Even if I can't read your mind, I know what you were about to say regardless. You were going to 'suggest' that we try and do something about the Dunwich, or the Monolith Monsters, or the Morlocks, or whatever the fuck else is out there. Was that it? (I hesitantly nod my head, feeling intimidated.) Why should any of us risk our necks after being so oppressed by everyone else? I spent the early years of my life getting hunted by some Government Agency and now the Government wants my help to figure out what's going on in Derry? Fuck that. And- (She abruptly freezes mid-sentence, the scorching stops as does the smoke. I hesitantly approach her.)

McGee?

She sat there, her eyes dim and lifeless. This soon changed when she rose out of her seat, backpack slung over her shoulder, and moved towards the door.

I've got to go, Noah. The White Queen needs me. (She stops at the door and looks back to me, her eyes return back to being like embers.) If you want some advice, then take heed of this warning. Mind yourself, and you'll survive. If you don't, then you will die.

She then opened the door and left without a second word. It'd be later that I'd learn (and figure out) that this White Queen she mentioned sent her a message telepathically and wanted her to investigate a rumor. Specifically, some man and his lawnmower. I never did meet her again, but I knew one thing.

Always tread carefully whenever speaking with a psychic. Even if they can't read your mind, they can roast you alive.