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About me

Been a fan of Left 4 Dead ever since 
I learned about it in mid-summer 2006. 
Now back then I was a zombie game fanatic,
 I had never even heard of Valve or Half-Life.
 'Course I was 11 back then so that kind of made sense...
 Anyway the game was unheard of by me
 so I didn't give it a second thought.
 However, it kept popping up more and more in 2007,
 and that's when I finally found Left4dead411.com.
 It was AMAZING! 
They kept track of everything that happened to the game.
 and I checked the site every day just to see a new screen shot!
I became a member last summer and I follow the wiki to this day.


MY GOALS:

  • To keep track of all new l4d2 information and events, and edit the pages respectfully.
  • To make a list of all the things [[Ellis]] likes. (if it happens =D)
  • To clean up spammed pages and things people just make up.
  • To fear the admins wrath, and be a good little puppy. /wub/
  • To prove to the world that the C-130 pilot is Ellis' long lost father.
  • and so on and so forth...

My contributions

Cheno's post infection scrapbook.

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(this is something I am doing with my free time, a survivor from Atlanta finds a group of others,)

Forward.

Well, I guess I have to start this off somehow. My name is Nicholas Chenowith, but everyone has taken to calling me Cheno. There are two ways you could have found this little white binder. Either #1, I was being a whiny bitch and sold it for a candy-bar Selling it to you, a fellow survivor, for supplies. (Goddamnit Will!) Reason #2, We died a horrible, violent death and you happened upon our corpses in an abandoned supermarket or a crashed El-Camino. Now out of boredom, I have put together this scrapbook, from several sources, including C.E.D.A advice, C.D.C documents, and records of how we are stayed alive.

A Note from Will

Whoever is reading this right now, you're either an idiot who bought this from the idiot who wrote this (Cheno) in exchange for decent supplies or you've wrenched it from the idiot's (Either one) cold, dead hands. I want to make this perfectly clear. This book is absolute rubbish. If you're actually bothering to read this damned book instead of using it as toilet paper, then you better pay attention to what I have to say. This book has cost me a lot of good photos and on more than one occasion, the bloody thing almost got both me and the kid killed. Maybe it would be good for a laugh when your spirits are low, but otherwise, don't lug this ridiculous thing with you - it'll get you killed.

If it were up to me, I'd have stopped there, but apparently the kid wants me to write more. I suppose it makes sense, right? Balance out all the crap with some actual intelligence. Well, I can't say things are going well out here. Cheno may try to keep things "scientific" in this thing, but he doesn't seem to note how horrible it is out here. If I could print out my photos, I'd stick a few in and show you just how messed up things are out here, but I can't. No computers in a post-apocalyptic world, after all. Unless it's a self-aware AI apocalypse or some shit, but that's off topic.

The point is, the kid doesn't seem to realise that by making everything seem "scientific" and almost normal sounding, he's drastically underplaying the situation. It's good to write down what's actually happening and what you're actually feeling. As opposed to classing Infected in different categories. You have to get feelings out in the open or they, not the Infected, will be the death of you. Writing them down is a good start. It's important to be emotional sometimes. But I guess I shouldn't keep going on like this, or whoever you are will start thinking I'm a pussy. Believe me, I'm not, it's that damned kid.

However, I do want to let you know this. Living day to day out here becomes not only a physical battle, but emotional too. You see your family get eaten, ripped to shreds, infected. And it destroys you inside. But you can't let it kill you. You have to keep going. The people you fight with, strangers who've grouped together - they become your family. I guess you could say Marthe has become my little sister and Cheno is the annoying, snot-nosed nephew. I guess that makes me the drunken uncle that no one really invited but shows up anyway, eh? To the point, though. You need to move on. Live day to day. Because your family one day may be drastically different the next. I'm not saying get emotionally detached from everyone. I'm simply saying what happens happens.

And if you can't deal with it? Talk about it to a surviving member of your new family. Failing that possibility, write it down. Somewhere. Anywhere. Hell, write it here, the kid won't mind, he's probably dead.

Good luck out there, Survivor. --Ace Photographer William Leyland

Cheno's journal,

September 14, 2009

Day four of the buck hunt, Grandad said I was Crazy for bringing the marlin, "I even brought a spare Remington," he said, "Why d'you even bother with a lever-action?" I just smiled at him, lined up my sights, and pulled the trigger. *BAM* ten point buck on the ground. *chick-chink* "They build Marlins for a reason Grandaddy!" I said, and we both laughed. "Boy," he said, "with luck, you might be gettin' a henry for christmas." my first kill of the season! Sure hope Harrison will let me put it over my desk at the office.


September 28th, 2009

Something has happened. Something bad. I know this isn't the right place to write this, or even a good idea to write it at all, but I need to get these things down on paper. My name is Nicholas Chenowith, Cheno to my friend, I'm 28 years old, and I work at the Atlanta Crime Lab as a C.S.I. Early this morning, the Center for Disease Controll and Prevention announced a new strain of lnfluenza discovered in pennsylvania the newspapers are calling it "The Green Flu." now, as much as the media normally hypes things up, I think that this could be serious. The FAA is closing the airports, I think I'm going to keep writing in this until I know it's nothing serious....


September 29th, 2009

We just got back from Hartfield-jackson international, two men got into a fist-fight. Some asshole conman's taking advantage of the situation alredy, all the tourists from europe can't make the flight back, and the lowlifes are selling tickets for "Private flights." a british guy, mid fourties, Langly, Leeston or something, beat up one of the hustelers. The tourist broke the jerks nose, then beat him over the head with a camera. Keeping people cooped up in the terminal just seems like a horrible idea, but the mayor says if the airports can't open back up soon, the tourists are going to live in apartments either in Midtown or Buckhead.... Talked with Harrison today about my desk, he said there was no way I would ever be able to put a trophy on the wall, but he would be okay with my rifle up there, I'm probably going to bring it over tomorow.

September 30th, 2009

everyones gathered around the flatscreen in the break room. we're watching CNN, and it's bad. The green flu isn't just a case of the autumn sniffles anymore, it's messed up. The man from Harvard said something about viral muttion, but it just doesn't make sense at all! in around fourty eight hours, the virus manifested, became airborne, and mutated into something like Rabies. Around a quarter of everyone in phillidelphia has gone crazy, martial law has been declared in pennsylvania. Miguel the janitor just keeps pacing back and forth praying, saying this is "the end of days," I tried to calm him down, but he just stormed out. I called dad today, asked him if he was thinking about "Red Dawn." He said he was going to get some things ready, but woulden't call a meeting unless things got serious.

October 1st, 2009

It's six in the evening, and this is the first time I've caught a break all day, the team has been getting more and more calls. two robberies, four wrecks, and a handfull of fistfights, and this is only for the dayshift, Graveyard says they have it twice as bad. The footage is getting more and more shocking, Live feeds from national guard units, the infected swarming through the streets. tried hitting the shops today, as soon as I get leave from my job, I'm bugging out of the city, Buford and Dennis are at "Chateau du' Chenowith" alredy, getting rid of all the junk thats collected since the seventies. I really wish I could be up at the lodge right now, away from all this crap in the city, but it's good to know the cousins are getting work done anyway.Dad and uncle Jeff have called everybody up, Fourteen of us total, including myself. We even managed to convince grandpa to come visit from sarasota. some people are going to have to bring sleeping bags, but it's better than whatever the national guard plans to do to save us.

October 2nd, 2009

it's getting bad. way too bad, way too fast. they lost New York during the night. The heicopter footage of manhattan, the whole city was on fire. Called mom and dad today, but I think they got the hint, they bugged out alredy, stupd me, wating around dusting fingerprints while the country falls into the shitter. the cheif of police, I kid you not, he called evey last one of us in the police force into the conference room to tell us he was told by the govenor, who was told by the Secretary of state, That The atlanta P.D. will be helping the national guard with civil defence duties.

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