Dancing with Mr. D

10th June 2010

Dear Readers,

I am back, and I am a prophet of the Lord. I know it sounds weird, but, hey, it's the apocalypse, weird is the everyday. Firstly, you must know that I have requested the other members of Team Free-Will to write diaries, but I don't know how many of them will actually do it... Dean seems to want to lynch me every time I put the idea forward. Currently, we are hiding from crazed zombies, infected by the demonic Croatoan Virus.

Now, I will tell you the true story of the apocalypse. Let us join our unlikely band of heroes as they dined last night.

Sharp scraping of blades against metal mess tins rang throughout the camp. Dean sat there, a dark shadow descending over his emerald eyes, thoughts of Sam's "death" plaguing his mind. It was thirty five days since he had lost his best friend and baby brother, and he had counted each one.

Detroit, Michigan, AKA Rock City, had been destroyed, Sam Winchester along with it.

Across the sticky wooden table, an angel with a frown upon his face scanned the room. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Sharp pains had been shooting through his skull for the past few weeks, and now he was unable to properly concentrate. We all knew what it meant, but how long will it be until then?

Okay, that's just a snippet of our situation, but I can't write what isn't there, can I? So I'm going to wait until God slips me a little info, or something crazy happens in camp, wasting paper is a no-no.

Love,

Carver Edlund (Chuck Shurley)