The Gloom
A simple phrase that we all understand in the modern times was the merging of two worlds in one. A cataclysmic event seen only on a biblical scale that decimated both planes inhabitants nine times over when both realities conjoined.
Technology quickly faltered and broke down as a purple wave of magic went from the East Coast of America to its Pacific shore. Shortly after that, many amenities broke down rapidly. Things once thought to be undegradable such as certain oils and many different plastics alongside various other synthetic materials began to rot within months of the Gloom taking over.
While most of the conjoined world's died upon impact of the two realities colliding, and even more dying as the world's infrastructure failed, there are many survivor's tales found in journals of those who were either born into this hellacious new world, those who witnessed the fall of Earth as we know it in the olden days, and even journals of those who came to this world during the great merger.
However in this case, this is but one man's story as told in a well worn and faded journal transcribed and produced to be spread around the wastes for historical purposes. To prevent any third party interference, all misspellings, grammatical errors, and personal opinions of this individual were left untouched. We hope you not only are able to enjoy and appreciate what you are about to read, but are also able to take and learn from these stories how to rebuild your own world in the wastes to survive another day.
I am a survivor from California. My life forever changed in July of 2020 when my fiance, little brother, and I fled. My pa and ma staying behind. Eventually I was separated from them too.
I am kind, but I am not weak
I am a warrior, but I am not a savage
I am insightful, but I am not a Philosopher
I am smart, but I am not a caster
I am strong, but I am not herculean
Nothing is special about me, but nothing poor about me
Nothing is out of my reach, but nothing is ever in my grasp
I am Jacob Peter James, the blood of my ancestors, people who conquered continents, robbed trains, fought to found America, and even locked up in some of the worst prisons in the country their forefathers fought to create. I have grown greatly to meet the deeds my lineage has aspired to, yet my journey has only just started.
?: It's been a while since I wrote. It doesn't hurt that I lost the last book in my escape to Washington. I can still tell that my secrets are safe at the very least because who the hell can read my handwriting? I don't know if this journal is to remember important things, or to keep whatever sanity I had before these events happened, or whatever sanity I could sweep back into my psyche after everything went down.
For anyone playing the home game you already know what happened. In July 2020 a giant wave of energy went out as our world collided with a world you and I would see as nothing more than fairy tales. But what happened specifically to me was I saw a horde of these reddish imp with sharp teeth and bat wings attack my apartment complex. This happened maybe an hour or two after my dad came home from work with the news about how power outages were sweeping from China westward. We thought the world was ending. I had no idea what I was in for. We held out for a time but they just swarmed our apartment like we were in Hitchcock's "The Birds." My ma could barely walk due to her illnesses and my pa was gonna die by her side before he left her. I had the shotgun handed to me with a box of ammo, several water bottles, and whatever basic meds I could carry (perks of being related to people with chronic pain) with Bianca and Olliver. The few days that followed were a mixture of sneaking around, running like the dickens when monsters found us, and quickly losing trust of a lot of young men. I mean seriously it's like a generation of self served psychopaths just lost their phones or something. HA!
But anyhow, the only other thing we did was cry. Olliver and Bianca cried a lot more than me, and I cried while I was alone on night watch. After a year of traveling, hiding, and working, we finally made our way to Sacramento. For better or for worse. Bianca had medical needs that we couldn't supplement her medications when everything went down. And Oliver… Listen, he's my little brother. But God Damnit, Olliver is… Was a bumbling oaf when all he did was hang out around the house and cook dinners. My big bro Adrian lived in Sacramento and he was as stubborn and strong as an ox. I figured he and Jill would be happy to leave their slice of hell and join us on our route to Reno. It shouldn't have been hard since I was born and raised in Sacramento for about half my life. He legitimately lived about 4 blocks from where I grew up. But we never made it to them. At this point, we were stuck getting through downtown. The three of us were like most of pre-gloom America. Fat with poor aerobics. Now the two were rail thin and i lost a considerable amount of fat. Anyways i decided to try and steal some food for them. And I got caught. Thankfully they didn't revert back to Hammurabi cause I still have both hands. But that was the last day I saw Bianca or Olliver. I was put in a prison work camp, farming rice with an oar and chain tied to my leg on the Sacramento delta. Bastards didn't even let me keep my engagement ring or my Grandfather's ring he gave me before I passed. With all the manual labor though I learned how valuable making a gas mask would be with how many particles are in the air. The world shit itself and now we are walking around breathing it in.
A year went by and i was offered a choice. Fight for my captors or continue working the fields and be slain when we lose the "Battle of the Delta". I was more than enough angry at that point so i grabbed some chunk of metal as a weapon and a shield and went out. And while I can laugh about it now, my god. I never want to fight elves ever again. Sure there were only 15 of them and we had at least 4 times people they did but none of our guys were THROWING LIGHTNING AND MAGIC MISSILES AT THEM. Surprisingly after their first barrage, we were able to make ground on them, learning quickly that we should spread out to avoid their flamethrower hands and other Arcane bullshit.
Eventually we'd have four or five guys run up and as the caster prepared their spell to hit them and the guys would run back as we had a second group of guys come up from the side; a classic swarm attack! I was one of the guys who'd do the Relay race and as we took out the fourth guy down i realized an elf was casting a spell on the other 5 guys running back, myself included. My training with a baton kicked in and i jabbed the hunk or steel into his solar plexus and knocked the wind outta him. I began to cave in his chest cavity as i saw he was still focused on the spell. I was too late.
Everything happened in a flash after that. the Bright red light, the wave of heat that I learned later burned my back and my biscuits too. The feeling of weightlessness as i went ass over teakettle, weighing over 200 pounds being flung around like a Tonka Truck being thrown by a bratty 6 year old was none too pleasant let me tell you. After I healed up and joined a group a little ways down the delta i saw some familiar faces. Turns out the Elf in his panic accidentally shot the spell he was focusing on around everyone in the melee, not just me and and the retreating lads. It was the gap they needed to get in and kill the last two Elves and win the fight while dumbasses like me were thought long gone.
After that, I decided to heal up, grab some gear, and start heading north again. Shortly before I left I found the bastard who enslaved me. It was the first time I killed someone that wasn't in self defence. I still don't feel bad. I found my engagement ring and the Ring my grandfather's Ring he had set aside for me when he passed away and left.
I was scared, on my own but determined to make my way out of this industrial hell. Lucky for me, I made it through central California enough to avoid the great San Andreas Fault splitting in 2023 which turned most of California into an island hurtling to hell. I hoped against hope that Bianca, Oliver, Adrian, and his wife Jill didn't die in that pit of hell. I doubt they made it out though.
June 2022: It seems my journey to Reno is modeling around the roads I traveled while i was growing up. It's nostalgia warms my heart with one of the few feelings that can bring any form of mysticism or wonder into my life even before shit hit the fan. It's been a long road i've traveled the last few years. I've been able to make myself a decent suit of armor. Nothing flashy like the knights you'd see in King Arthur's court but chainmail seems to work just fine. Already saved my life a few times since the gang member in Modesto shot me up pretty well. Thank god I bought that bulletproof vest before everything went offline. I always knew working security meant I was gonna get shot. Never knew it took an apocalypse to prove me right, but hey. Won't look a gift horse in the mouth
It's weird how fast everything started rotting and rusting unless you practically bathe it in oils. Only things that really don't suffer from this are basic items, pre Renaissance. Seen a lot of old school forges set up. Impressed a couple guys with what I knew, then they promptly saw what I knew was theory and theory only. I got to learn how to do it practically so hey. I have a trade skill! Good thing too since I rather just pay for raw material to fix up my weapons and armor.
My weapon of choice? Well there's certainly a plethora I have used. I use a trusty crowbar for most of my encounters. The reason is your weapon shouldn't just be a weapon. It's a tool that can be used to kill when you need it to. A sledgehammer is a great weapon but carrying 20 pounds of steel that's hard to holster and will bruise you the second you need to climb over anything isn't ideal. The Crowbar is light, sturdy, and can get the job done.
August 2022: Chester California was similar to what it used to be. A bunch of people living in a recluse mountain town in their day to day lifestyle with little help from the outside world and follow rumors listening to one person in town because they hold all the power no matter how much they're hated because the town is practically brainwashed. Now it's done with a Kraken in lake Almanor. At least this one didn't run me or my family out of the house.
I was hoping I could talk to Papa and Mrs. Hayes about if Bianca came through but they passed away. They had a long run and I guess it's better that they died believing i protected her. Maybe they met in heaven. I mean, i've seen miracles. If all these other gods are here and helping these people then why not MY god?
15 days later: The fucking mountain exploded. Mount Lassen was rumbling for a couple of days and as I was getting my meal from the Pine Shack, it exploded. I was in shock but smirked a bit as the old sign was still there "If mount Lassen explodes, your meal is free. I don't think anyone noticed me pocket a few to-go bags during the rush.
As we left the Pine Shack a form maybe as tall as the mountain itself rose up throws magma rocks down on the towns nearby. Mineral, further back down the hill, Westwood, across the lake, and Chester itself. Me and as many people who were on the main street got to the edge of town and we were all hoofing it let me tell ya. Shit wasn't pretty. I was able to find a bike and made my dash. Westwood was on fire and the kraken's guards could only do so much to prevent the cinder flow. It took me about a day of killing myself up the hills, and bombing it like the madman I am down the mountain easily going 60 miles an hour on the descent. It got close with the bigfoot tribe trying to get outta dodge as well who i am sure were equally surprised to see anyone at all out here as well. by sunset I was coasting down the winding road into Susanville.