From the note found by Manny Stone in
the slaughtered community. The letter was found on the floor of the
kitchen of the second house they looked in. It was covered in jam or
something similar, at least, it had been when it had been thrown on
the floor. Whoever had trashed the place had broken all the jars of
food that had been in the cabinets, a waste, in this day and age.
May 3, 2017
My name is Mary Conte and I'm going to
die really soon. I can hear the screams of the sicko's who attacked
our community, Charity Springs, as well as the screams of their
victims. I think I'm going to kill myself when they break in here. So
if this letter just stops, you know why.
Our community has been living in peace
and has even helped a couple of groups that were just traveling
through. If they'd wanted to stay, we would've welcomed them in and
they would have become part of us. We've been really lucky that
another group like the one here now, killing everyone, hadn't shown
up sooner.
They showed up at our gate yesterday
morning. All of them dressed in black, heavy on the leather, with
their faces painted like skeletons, although, some of them had masks.
The women were dressed just like the men and there was no way to tell
them apart. They had guns, swords and axes, all out in plain sight.
They were screaming and throwing rocks to get our attention and when
they saw people gathering at the gate, they demanded our surrender.
Their leader, a giant man with long black hair, and a huge beard. He said if we gave up, some of us would live. Not all of us, but
some of us. He gave us two hours to make up our minds.
We held a meeting and Jason Janson,
our mayor, chaired it. We discussed our options and I urged everyone
to try to run or give up, because we were no match for the psycho's
out front. But everyone else wanted to fight and felt secure behind
our walls. Stupid jackasses.
Janson was at the gate at the
appointed time and announced our decision, and before he'd even
finished, his head was blown off. When I turned to look at the group,
the leader was standing there, holding a smoking sawed off shotgun
with a huge grin on his face. He walked back to his car and honked
the horn three times. The next thing I heard was a huge explosion at
the back of the community and then the sound of huge engines
straining over something. I turned on my perch and used the
binoculars to look and saw a tank and two tractors repeatedly running
over the now blown up section of wall, pushing the debris around so
the waiting four wheel drive vehicles would be able to get over the
downed section. It only took them an hour to breach our walls and get
their people inside.
The people who had been at the gates
drove around and joined their comrades and they all came inside the
walls. I watched them from the upstairs bedroom in my house for a
while, but as soon as they got halfway through the houses, I stopped
looking and have stayed away from the windows since. I can hear how
close they've gotten from the screams and have silently cheered the
occasional single gunshots I hear. I know that someone else managed
to kill themselves and denied the madmen the pleasure of killing
them.
 |
| The Matthews |
I don't want to let them get me, their
really sick. They hacked the Matthews family up into little tiny
pieces, one by one, starting with the wife, then the kids and finally
the husband. They made him watch his family being slaughtered and for
every sound he made, they tortured his family worse. At least, they
didn't rape Mrs Matthews. Linda Buckles wasn't so lucky. She was held
down at one of the intersections and any passing madman could take a
turn. She only lasted about an hour before she died from what they
did to her. And she wasn't the only one.
No way am I letting them take me. I
have my pistol in my lap and have locked myself in my attic. It
should give me a couple of minutes longer to write. They are a couple
of streets away and the gunshots are getting more often, the screams
still loud individually, but less of them than when they first got
in.
I just took a chance and peeked out
the tiny window up here and saw my neighbors, Richard and Nina
Brooks, through their bedroom window. I watched them embrace, kiss
and then both of them put a pistol in their mouths and pulled the
triggers together, right as one of the people in black broke through
their bedroom door.
I'm pretty sure I just heard my door
being kicked in and have only a few moments left. If you find this,
know that these people can't be reasoned with. Kill them on sight.
Keep safe, stay strong, and survive.
Mary Conte
As a writer and artist, I appreciate
any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read
this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan
collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at
www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology
of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the
art we produce in our Etsy store at
etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at
@ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.
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