Chapter Text
SIMON OUELLET Date:XX/XX/XX
AGE: 30s
SIMON lived alone in the French; he did live a peaceful life before joining the war. He didn’t do much with guns, so he was a sapper, being the defense line. Simon did have an identical twin, but the two got separated when the blight happened. Simon doesn’t remember much about him anymore. Simon saw many men die and fall under the blight, everything was in shambles, all Simon knew was to swing his axe, to kill these things a second time. Over time Simon got used to it, it still hurt hard when a teammate turns into one of them; they later find out a chaplain could bless them from the blight, but who knows how long this will last?
Log 1
Le fléau se propage plus vite que quiconque ne le pense, et l'un des nôtres a succombé à ces démons. Notre régiment est en mouvement, car nous ne pouvons plus rester au même endroit. Je fais des cauchemars où je deviens l'un d'eux, me retournant contre mon régiment, mon équipe, mon peuple. Je ne peux plus dormir la nuit.
(The plague is spreading faster than anyone realizes, and one of our own has succumbed to these demons. Our regiment is on the move, because we can no longer stay in one place. I have nightmares where I become one of them, turning against my regiment, my squad, my people. I can no longer sleep at night.)
Simon has been writing letters, keeping track of things just in case something might happen to him and that someone will find his letters.
It’s been months now, it keeps getting worse, nothing is getting better, men after men. Simon saw it all being front line, building barracks, trying so hard to help, to save, but how many people have died due to HIS failure? How many lives has SIMON had to take? How much blood is possibly on HIS hands? Simon feels his hands shake when he sees another one turn, knowing they turned into what they didn't want to. These people had families, whether they are alive or not will haunt them, these soldiers will possibly never go back to family, to go back into their loved ones arms until death.
Log 2
Tout empire, j'ai fait tout mon possible, absolument tout. J'ai ôté la vie à des gens qui ne méritaient pas ça. Leur sang est sur mes mains, je n'arrive pas à m'en débarrasser. Je me souviens de leur terreur quand ils ont compris qu'il était trop tard. Peut-être que ce fléau était un châtiment divin.
(Everything's getting worse. I've done everything I could, absolutely everything. I've taken the lives of people who didn't deserve it. Their blood is on my hands; I can't get rid of it. I remember their terror when they realized it was too late. Maybe this plague was divine punishment.)
Simon hands shook as he wrote this letter, he felt like something was watching him, that a shambler will come out of nowhere and purge him of this blight. Simon prays before another sleepless night.
Simon couldn't sleep at all. He has tried, but it's just another sleepless night for him. Simon finds himself dozing off before catching himself. He couldn't sleep, not now. What if a shambler comes in? He has to be there to save his team, to warn them of the dangers.
Plus Simon absorbe, moins il recevra. Plus Simon ressent le besoin d'économiser, moins il recevra. Il perdra plus que son équipe.
The more Simon absorbs, the less he will receive. The more Simon feels the need to save, the less he will receive. He will lose more than his team.
Simon feels something near, he starts seeing things that weren’t real, Simon can’t stop his hands from shaking, he can't stop. Something is coming, he needs to prepare.
Simon stood over a teammate, his axe in hand. Staring down. He could swing down on them. He swears he saw what looked like a bite on them. He could swing. He could save them from their misery right here. He could kill them, right here, right now.
Before Simon could raise his axe. To kill this traitor. He snapped out of it. He felt sick. He almost just killed another teammate for what? What saving? What was he thinking? What was he doing? What was he going to do? They could have been blessed from the blight already; and he was about to kill him. He was about to assume the worst because it was the worst.
Moins cet homme dormira, plus son état s'aggravera ; il deviendra pire que la peste. Peut-être qu'un homme pire que la peste était le pire de tous.