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Oh, Hell.

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Day two and still no one. Though I dare not venture far. 

Every day that passes I know I am alone, truly, alone.

I could climb down and face the infected, I could give them mercy.

But I enjoy seeing them try to get to me.

It’s almost endearing, as if the clumsy clawing to the side of the bus reminds me of someone.

At least in hell I know I have company, or is this hell and I am my own company?

Is it possible I am starting to enjoy my own hell?