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The Void opened a few years ago. It's just this great, big mass of... well, space. Burst through Russia. We saw Moscow fall into the hole, building by building, the whites of the concrete slowly vanishing into the abyss below. Via a news chopper. Strange thing is, the news chopper seemed to be 'attracted' to that big damn hole. I mean, isn't the pilot classified as 'mad' if he tries to fly a freaking helicopter into a giant hole?
I'm getting too far off the point. Anyways, the chopper didn't crash. The crew didn't scream out in fear as they plummeted. We saw all of this through the camera, which was still on. Something wasn't right.
I work for that news company. This was our chopper. This was our money. Our money. Not some rich playboy's money, the money we earn through sweat, through pain, work, anguish. Something had to be done. I looked up from the television screen, barely visible from the roof of my cubicle.
That was when I noticed that everybody was looking to their left. Just this sort of blank, zombie-like stare. Muttering things.
No. Things weren't right at all.
It seemed like I was the only one not affected by the Void. Over the years surviving in California, I have come to realize that the Void isn't something just natural. It's nothing, but it's something. It will call to you. Resist. You must resist its influence.
I know this. I know all of this from the stares my colleagues gave me as they shambled through the windows, towards the Void, towards their deaths.
For a brief five minutes, planes crashed down into the metropolis I called home. Cars ran off highways, into rivers. Chaos.
For my ears, nothing was a gift. A sudden relief from the sound waves passing through the air. For my mind, nothing meant survival. Nothing meant no power after a week. Nothing meant diminishing food after half a year.
Nothing... nothing was hell.
I know the creepy stories. You all alone in a giant world. The watchers watch your every move, then close in.
This is real life. Not some cheesy Creepypasta. No watchers. Just me... and my mind.
Day one was fast. Day two was a bit slower.
Day 1005 was the slowest day of my life.
You see, day one was focused on gathering supplies for the night. My mind, distracted with the burden of looting supermarkets, couldn't even take a glimpse at the passing time.
Before I knew it, I was on to day two.
As time progressed, I became stronger. Carrying large amounts of Lays potato chips is easy as one-two-three. My shelter became more of a home.
I had more free time.
And the absence of time meant that my mind could conjure up whatever it wanted. Simple mirages became figures in the distance. Shadows moved.
I lost my mind.
But I got a grip. As of today, the Void is still engulfing planet Earth. It's... a kilometer away from me right now. If you're reading this, there's a spare chopper at the top of the Raider News building. Take the elevator. Power should be good until... May... 31st. It's going to be a miracle if this entry is more than a year old. The Void's just spreading too fast.
Anyway, take the elevator to the top floor. Saves more time. Go to the roof. The chopper should have... six cans of gasoline in the storage.
Start the engine up. And fly. Just fly. Fly to wherever you want. I can hear it calling...
Don't stop. Keep the chopper above ground level... I'm coming...
Don't slow down... it'll... call to me? I'm coming... wait...
I've... I've seen what it looks like... It... that thing in the Void...
Please... fly... and don't look down... never, never look down...
Written by 41488p