File #6

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[Received!]

"Well, well, well, look who's back for another dose of my thrilling escapades. I see you can't resist the charm of my storytelling. Sit tight, my dear viewer, as I regale you with the tale of my daring escape plan, sprinkled with generous portions of humour and sarcasm."

"Picture this: the riots are in full swing, the military is descending upon us like a pack of hungry wolves, and I'm just a genius trying to find my way out of this mess. I had it all planned out, you see. I had to make my way through a town infested with parasites. Oh, what fun!"

"You see, these parasites were no ordinary creatures. They had gone through some weird mutation, forming a lovely little collective known as the Carriers. These fellas were like the popular kids in high school, surrounded by mini-parasites, ready to swarm any place that gave them the time of day. Talk about a parasitic party!"

"So, there I was, navigating through this town of horrors. The military was moving slower than a snail on tranquillizers, and the parasites were having a field day. They had invaded through the waterways, spreading their delightful presence everywhere. Cheers to that!"

"Now, imagine me, strolling through this nightmare scenario, with dying people on one side and a struggling army and police force on the other. It was like a comedy show gone wrong."

"And yet, I had no choice but to soldier on. My brain refused to let me back down, and my ego? Oh, it was ecstatic to prove its triumph over these mutated menaces. I've been telling you, guys or girls, it just won't let me lose."

I waltzed past barricades, where the army and police were desperately trying to contain the infestation. Bless their hearts, they were doing their best with their fancy barricades. But let's be real, those barriers were about as effective as a paper umbrella in a hurricane. Good effort, folks!"

Every step I took was a dance of caution, avoiding the deadly grasp of the Carriers. I mean, who needs a minefield when you have swarms of mini-parasites? The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Or maybe even a spoon if you're feeling adventurous.

Now, let me take a moment to appreciate my own brilliance. I mean, I survived a town teeming with parasites, a crumbling infrastructure, and my own rookie mistakes. It's like I was the star of my own action movie, except with a dash of sarcasm and a sprinkle of self-deprecation.

Finally, I stumbled upon a mysterious house. It stood there, like a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. It was untouched, pristine, and probably hiding some dark secrets. Naturally, I sought refuge within its walls, hoping to find answers, or maybe just a comfy couch to rest my weary bones.

As I cautiously entered the house, I spotted a figure in the dimly lit room. The low light from the windows played tricks on my eyes, but I could tell she was young. Less than 15, but not a day over 13. My instincts kicked in, reminding me that civilians should be nowhere near a raid. I prepared myself to sidestep her, ready for whatever surprises awaited me.

But oh, dear viewer, you won't believe what happened next. As she turned around, it became glaringly obvious that she was no ordinary girl. She was one of the first mutated parasites, and boy, did she live up to her name. I christened her "Shriek" because her voice could rival my dear mother's relentless nagging to take out the trash. Ah, the memories.

Before I could react, I was hit with a forceful blast that sent me hurtling into a wall. Ouch. It felt like a couple of ribs were screaming in agony, and I was dangerously close to joining them in the land of the departed. But fear not, for Lord doesn't go down that easily.

Summoning my last ounce of strength, I grabbed a conveniently placed chair and swung it with all my might, connecting it with Shriek's face. A satisfying thud echoed through the room. Take that, you shrieking nightmare!

Now, in a stroke of luck that could rival a plot convenience straight out of a B-grade movie, my hand brushed against something under the nearby couch. Lo and behold, it was a beer bottle. Ah, Dad always keeps a couple of emergency beers handy. You know, for those life-or-death situations. I couldn't resist making a snarky remark about the convenient timing. Gotta find humor in the chaos, right?

As I grabbed the bottle, I noticed a stray cigarette lying on the floor. I couldn't help but complain about the convenient plot devices that seem to find their way into my life. Seriously, who writes this stuff?

But I digress. As I focused my attention back on Shriek, something caught my eye. She was holding her wounds, trying to stem the bleeding. Ah, the wonders of evolution. Hunger, my dear viewer, is crucial for regeneration and basic bodily functions. And it seemed that Shriek's healing abilities were not what they used to be. Wounds bleed, my friend. Bleeding wastes energy. Who knew parasites could have such an inconvenient weakness?

In a moment of silence, I gripped the knife tightly. I pondered, silently questioning if Shriek could hear any type of sound or if those gaping eyeless sockets held any form of vision. It was like trying to have a deep philosophical debate with a slightly intact corpse. Challenging, to say the least.

But, alas, dear viewer, I must leave you hanging for now. The suspense is killing you, isn't it? Rest assured, Lord will prevail. Stay tuned for the next thrilling chapter of my sarcastic saga. Cheers to survival and the absurdity of it all!"

"Also before I run out of tape I grabbed a knife because it's handy and also I've told you about my backpack right? And remember this is somewhere near America's shores so like Colando or something like that-"

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[Please Insert Tape]