POST #15: DAY #3791 OF DOSCAPE

Well, I'll try to come up with a basic rough sketch of what went down during the past day.

When I woke up and got to pulling the cart along Richard stopped me. He looked pissed.

"I read what you posted."

"...okay?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"About Terri?"

"About wh..." Then I recognized the name. Terri told me about her brother. He helped survivors get supplies. He travelled in a group. His name was Richard Stone. "...oh..."

"Yeah. Oh."

Thankfully, the tension was cut mercifully short. Damien was keeping a lookout from the covered wagon from binoculars and suddenly he shouted, "There! Grocery store! Only half decimated!"

Richard looked up at Damien, then into the distance where a large two story building was placed, dogflesh packing in around it but not yet taking over the building yet. Large poles that were once most likely light fixtures were now replaced by large columns of dogflesh with two heads facing opposite directions at the top. We headed out towards the area as quickly as possible. The wheels crunched flesh and bone as we moved along the steadily thickening mass of dogflesh. There were some speakers near the top of the building, right outside. 

Damien motioned for Richard and I to stop pulling the cart and get into the store. Kimberly and ... what's his name... are going to keep watch over the cart and begin pulling on it if the flesh starts trying to assimilate the cart. I was given an SMG, of which the cart had a fairly surprising number, and moved out with Damien and Richard into the building.

The walls inside were mostly empty of dogflesh, save a little which was bubbling through cracks in the walls and mewling like newborn puppies. However, blood stained the walls everywhere, and in some places there were impaled dead bodies, maybe 10 in total. Some were fresh, but the majority were black and rotting. We looked around in the grocery store, but aside from some tuna, some juices, some water and some Armour sausages and spam (which are okay when on the road, I guess), there was nothing.

"Psst, new guy. Check the pharmacy for meds. I hope it's not cleaned out." He motioned for me to head over to the back part of the store. I did so, pointing my gun at blind spots, trying my best not to be caught off guard. I finally made it to the pharmaceuticals section. I looked around for medications. I found aspirin medicine  painkillers, antibiotics, and andtidepressents. I also found adhesive bandages, sutures, and syringes. Among these I found a doctor's medical journal, with a strange symbol on the front cover. It had a large vertical line with a smaller, snake-like line overlapping it at points. I tossed it away. When I headed back I saw Damien and Richard motioning for me to follow, but I suddenly heard the sound of toppling cans. Rich and Damien heard it too.

We headed toward the source of the noise. When we got to the center we found an open hole in the floor of the grocery store, dogflesh already bubbling its way through. There was a message below the hole, scrawled in disgustingly brownish red liquid.. "THE PACK SHALL HUNT." We looked at the message for a while, then, thinking to head back before any trouble arose, started to turn back. The minute we did so, a loud, creepy distorted laugh echoed throughout the store, emanating from the intercom itself. It reminded me of something... first, it sounded like the psychotic laugh of a hyena ripping into their prey. Secondly, I could swear I heard that laugh before...

It wasn't until the barbarians ambushed me that I remembered that the laugh was present in the first barbarian ambush, right before the Dogmother emerged and chased me. They were all wielding clubs, bats, and axes this time. No ranged weapons and, thank God, none with vicious dog heads on the ends of them. We drew our weapons and fired on them. They swung at us, but never got close enough to attack with melee weapons. Some drew throwing knives and aimed them at us. Some hit us in painful, yet nonvital spots, like a graze on the shoulder or the arm. Soon, after the rattling of gunfire and the thick, pungent smell of smoke cleared the air, there were no barbarians left alive.

We continued on our way back when the laugh erupted again, causing me to shudder. Then I heard the pounding. It sounded like it was coming from our right, but slowly getting closer...

and closer...

and closer.

We were running out of the store, our bags filled with supplies, our guns empty, as the giant half-human creature burst through the glass sliding panes of the door with a crash. Its inhuman eyes also brought back memories from that encounter. It began to leap towards us, its wild eyes darting towards us, its tongue lobbing saliva wherever it could. It started gurgling, then said, "YOU WON'T ESCAPE, HUMANS." With that, the giant hyena-like beast pulled out a giant club... with spikes made of claws and a large dog head on the end. So much for what I said earlier.

I trained my pistol onto the Hyena Man, as it kept leaping towards us. I knew there was one way to stop it. There were cars in the parking lots still, covered in dogflesh but still there somewhere. If only I could get a precise hit. The underbelly near the exhaust pipe might work, but then again, it's too small.

Thankfully the Hyena Man landed on something that made my job much easier: a sixteen wheeler. I remembered in time that the gas pipe was below the front end of the chassis, so I took careful aim and fired while it was in mid-laugh. The dogflesh exploded in a burst of fire, and a psychotically maddening laugh soon grew large hints of a horrific wail, with a high C harmonic that could shatter glass. We moved on as quickly as possible, Kimberly and Damien taking the shift this time. I had a nasty cut on my arm and was tending to it with one of the sutures.

Rich came over and helped with it. "Hey, nice shooting."

"Yeah. Hey, I'm sorry about not talking about... her..."

"I know. I mean, she gave you some clues as to who I was, but still, idiocy and violence can also help a man survive in the Dogscape." He shot me a humorous  look.

We were on better terms, and I thought the sailing would at least be a little more smooth from this point on. However, when I looked out of the cart, I saw it. The Hyena Man I flame broiled a while ago. It was accompanied by a new creature, what, as opposed to the shadowy silhouette of the Hyena Man, was a bright glow, like a small flame. I stared wide eyed, then turned back to my compatriots in the cart. It's not over. It's not the last I'd see of that laughing freak.

Note From Richard

Hey guys. I'm just going to type in this for a while. The battery doesn't die, I think.

Name's Richard Stone. I made the Caravan to help survivors in the area.

Not that there are many left besides us now. It has been ten years.

I read this guy's last post and found out he thought my name was familiar. Might have to check the rest of his posts too.

Anyways, another reason I'm here is to just say a little about myself. I mean, we have journals, but apparently there are still people who read this.

I was born and raised in Arctic Village, Alaska, somewhere in the middle of the state. I had to survive in the wilderness in a town with very few fellow residents. My sister and I hunted elk for sustenance and helped cut down trees. Her name's Terri, by the way.

When the Dogscape hit I was studying in a college in Minnesota. My sister then got the Dogscape four years after me. I tried to contact her, but I couldn't. So I banded up with three college friends who survived and looked around for a place to camp out. We soon found out you couldn't sleep in the Flesh. Not healthy.

Anyways, we found a wagon that wasn't taken over so we used it to collect things. On the way we found more people who were more than willing to join in. Most of them are dead now. But we had a very good run together. Maybe there's more people out there.

I don't know.

More importantly, I don't care right now.

We need to find a place to stop. We need to find a place to finally rest our feet.

a Richard Stone a

POST #13: DAY 3790 OF DOGSCAPE

Okay, so things are good now. The Dogmother stopped chasing me after about seven hours. Seven. Fucking. Hours -_-. Words cannot describe how fucking tied I am. Well, at least I met new people. That's good.

There's about four people in total. A girl, brunette, blue eyes, about 5'7, and se... er... proportionate... A kid barely older than 16, with a scraggly five o'clock shadow. His hair is a kind of dirty blonde and he reminds me of the hipster type. An old guy, about 55 at yonugest. Thick grey beard, a scar running from his right eye to the left cheek. And finally there was a guy who was about 30, with slicked back black hair and piercing green eyes. They had a large wagon filled with supplies that they were forced to keep in motion at all times by having two people pull the cart. They all had bulging muscles which was, I guess, because of this. There were always two people in the wagon catching up on sleep. Sometimes there's one person in the wagon and another person out scavenging supplies wherever they can find it. The old bearded man and the man with black hair were the ones pulling the wagon when I came up to them.

They couldn't really STOP the wagon, so I came along with them.

The black haried man introduced himself as Richard. His friend in the beard is Damien.

I feel like that name is familiar. I just can't pin it now.

I walked and talked with them, while also taking a third rope, tying it to a beam on the wagon and pulling the wagon with them. It was hard going. I asked them how they could keep this wagon going for so long.

Richard said that they just kept going in shifts, and they didn't stop the wagon for more than five minutes so the Flesh wouldn't take over.

"Wait. What if you had to fight?"

"Well, we still can't stop for more than five minutes at a time. Usually people in the wagon can pull out some of the guns in there. We got everything from AK-47s to RPGs to Colt 45s to... "

"Hey, can I put some of my guns in there, too?"

"You joining up?"

"Does it look like I have a choice?"

He thought about it for a while. He was about to say something when Damien said, "I know that look, Rich'. This ain't gonna be another Michael incident. If he didn't ask to put his shit in the back, then I'd be worried."

"Who was Miachel?"

"Barbarian leader. A very smart one at that. Tried to kill us from the inside. Anyways... yeah, I'll let you on. But you're gonna have to pull your own weight."

So I put my things in the back and got in the back wagon. Damien decided to stay up while Richard and I got in the back. Another guy in the wagon got out and began pulling. A girl, who had black hair and a cowboy hat on, was busy dozing off. She had a pistol in her hand.

I'm busy typing on this laptop right now. I'm trying not to let Richard or the girl, whose name is Kimberly btw, see me typing in this. Well, I have a long day's work ahead of me. We have a lot of dogfruit and non-dog foods as well as weapons, ammunition, water, a filter, sets of clothing, and about 15 journals. Each has a name on it. All except four had the word DECEASED written under them. Oh boy.

Well, I better post this and turn this thing off for now.

G'night.

ROGER, MEMBER OF THE CARAVAN

POST #12: DAY 3789 OF DOGSCAPE POST 2

FUCKITY FUCK STILL RUNNING. I'LL TRY NOT TO DROP THE LAPTOP. OR FALL OFF A CLIFF. JESUS CHRIST.

Okay, so today was supposed to be pretty normal. A couple barbarians, a couple new toys, a chance to sit around and eat some Dogfruit while sleeping. And then there was a laugh. It sounded very loud, like a series of yelps, finally going down to a low giggle. When the laugh echoed, the Dogscape started pulsing.

A pulsing Dogscape is an unhappy Dogscape, and an unhappy Dogscape is deadly at the best of times. So I found it best to put whatever was causing the Dogscape to pulse and kill it before it does any more harm. So I grabbed the repeater with the most ammo and prepared for the worst...

Needless to say, the Dogscape was feeling like it could get even wOHFUCKGIANTPAWGIANTPHUGEDOGTREESJUSTCOLLAPSEDFROMTHETREMOR.

I'm sorry, what was I saying? Oh right. What I was saying was GIANT CLAW NEARLY GORED ME FUCKFUCKRUNNINGRUNNING...

I'm sorry, but a certain giant beast made of dogs is really fucking up my train of thought. Okay, when I got to the source of the laughing I saw the Dogscape start growing a large... almost tumor-like lump. I also noticed, far off, on Dog Head Hill- my name for a giant foothill that is now the upper head of a Siberian Husky- a giant... thing, staring at me. I noticed yellow eyes and black slits even from this far off. It looked like a giant wolf or a coyote.

Then they attacked. Giant men tattooed in black ink and clothed in dog fur. They carried heavy sticks with dog heads on the end, growling menacingly.

Barbarians. Twenty eight of them. One of me. Oh goody...

I pulled out my repeater and shot a few of them instantly. Then they hollered in dog-like yells and raised their sticks in the air in some kind of mad chant. And then they charged.

I took down another three of them with my repeater before I was forced to run. I don't like dangerous humans with weapons. I don't like dangerous humans with weapons that bite even more. So, we played a game of cat and mouse. A thick pile of Doggrass was nearby, so I dove in and ran through the maze. The barbarians who were disoriented were easy targets. However... I kind of tripped. Shut up, there was a huge paw RIGHT THE FUCK THERE... oh never mind.

In any case... the remaining barbarians had me in a circle. One was about to shove the growling, biting stick at my face when we all heard a faint rumble. Another laugh, like the one that brought me to this spot, rose up again, coming from Dog Head Hill... coming from that huge slitted eye thing.

The barbarians had a look of horror emerge on their faces, and they scrambled in all directions.

Didn't know what it was about. Didn't care. Didn't know.

I made it back to the house and collected all my things. I noticed the rumbles getting louder, the shaking getting more violent. I thought I could outrun whatever it was. Then I heard it stop. And then three loud thumps.

I looked out the window. Wish I didn't.

The Dogmother was crawling like a festering baby... a festering baby made of Flesh... out of the Scape itself. It gave two loud barks, then turned its eyeless head towards me...

then it charged...

needless to say, the fact that I have not dropped this, gotten trampled, or made any typographical errors is a miracle in itself... in any case I don't think it's going to catch up to me any tSPRINTING OH GOD ITS SPRINTING. SIGNING OFF NOW. BOOP

POST #11: DAY 3789 OF DOGSCAPE

It's been a few days hasn't it? Well, Dogscape is as it's always been. A writhing, screaming mass of dog. And this fruit I'm about to eat says hi too...

Well, now it yelped. And now I'm chewing... tangy.

Anyways, it's getting much harder to find hide nor hair of houses around here... I think I'm entering what was once farmland. It's just tall rows of Doggrass, followed by narrow strips of Dogtrees and then the occasional half-assimilated farmhouse.

I'm enjoying myself. For one, since Reptilx, I haven't seen any other BME's besides the Dogscape itself. Which is good. Secondly, I met a couple of survivors today... well... they were more than happy to meet me. With guns. And a baseball bat. And one had a battleaxe. ...where the fuck did he get a battleaxe?

Thankfully I found a shotgun about a day ago.

It only had six shells with it, but they had enough weapons and ammo that I don't have to worry about running out for at least 5 to 6 days.

I found another farmhouse. Had more barbarians. They were sleeping though. All male. All very dead now. More ammo for me.

The barking has become nothing but background noise again. I barely even notice it now.

But I still remember Terri. How she sacrificed herself. How she looked. Who she was. I'm not going to forget her. I'm doing this for her.

...I'm going to eat, get back up, and start walking.

And I'm not going to stop until I hit Oasis.

POST #10: DAY 3786 OF DOGSCAPE POST 2

Found this. It was so close to the edge of the caves. Poor man who made this. Probably a part of the Dogscape now. My hope's been revitalized. I might be able to live on after all. For Terri. I'm not going to forget Terri. Ever.

This is the transcript:


Transcription:

*Barking of the Dogscape in background*

*Heavy, gasping breaths throughout*

*Stutters* Log Number --- 571 --- experiment proved successful --- however, I have been taken by natives --- I have determined that there are a very small number of "sweet spots", around the 'Scape --- *inaudible* some of them belong to... other... creatures --- other... Bio-Mass Entities, I've decided to call them --- though some might be inhabitable --- even --- livable --- it's a crapshoot, really --- I can't speak anymore --- I've had a --- large fight ---- I don't --- almost on the edge of death --- *inaudible* it will feel weird --- becoming the thing you've tried to study --- I've also found out that some scientists have tried *inaudible* working on *inaudible* --- cure --- able to recede the amount of *inaudible* --- I wonder what it feels like when you're being assimilated --- goodbye --- final log --- *gasps*

EDIT: Setting off again. Don't know what fucked up things I'll find, don't know who or what I'll meet. But I'm going to find a "sweet spot". I'm finding Oasis. I might even find a cure.

POST #9: DAY 3786 OF DOGSCAPE

Walking. Walking. Feet hurt. Hungry. Ate food. Ripped off meat from walls. Munched. Munched. Dark. Can't see. Nothing but glare. Typing. Typing.

No threats. Lizard... one or two... they try to fight. I kill. I drink the Fishwater. Tastes good. Eyeballs add taste.

Didn't forget Terri. Don't want to forget Terri. Trying to forget everything else.

Barking. In my ears. Like trumpets. Like living trumpets.

I lie down. Flesh clutches me. Shake it off. Move on. Can't stop walking. Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

Can't stop walking.
Can't stop walking.

POST #8: DAY 3785 OF DOGSCAPE

I'm too tired to continue. Too tired. Too depressed. But I can't just stop. I can't. She's gone. Terri's gone. So is that asshole that kept us here. I still don't want to go on. But I want to tell my story.

It was morning when the Lizardmen came for us. They were led by that bubbly-faced bastard, the Halfling. He had the soldiers lift us by our necks and carry us down the caverns. Terri and I stared at each other in silence for a while, tried to whisper to each other. The Lizardmens' grips grew tighter, and we couldn't breathe, let alone talk. There was a large circular cavern with a large hole in the center. A large mass of lizardmen were standing around the hole. In front of the hole was a large, open maw, lined with rows of sharp jagged teeth and gums. They kind of looked human. It more or less made me shit myself a little.

The huge Lizardmen put us in the dog's gaping mouth. The jaw closed slightly... not enough to gore us, but enough to make sure it would if we so much as moved. But maybe, if you grasped one of the teeth and started working at wiggling it loose...

It was time for Halfling to speak. His Dogflesh side bubbled to the amazement of the Hands of Reptilx. "Yes brothers, stare. Stare into the amorphous mass on my face. It is a curse bestowed on me from my enemies, and a blessing given by the Mother herself! And now she has chosen me as the Prophet of the Hands of Reptilx, the speaker to the Great Dogmother herself! If you look at the two figures in the maw of one of the Dogmother's great offspring, you will see the two scoundrels who have usurped and attacked up on multiple occasions!"

A loud series of hisses mingled with the shrill squeals of agony by the dogs... one dog in particular, who was in the painful process of losing one of its fangs. The Halfling raised his hands in front of the pit. "Now, brethren, it is time to call the Father, one of the greatest children of the Dogmother. We must raise Reptilx itself with the sacrifice of these two heretics!"

Thankfully, I wiggled loose the dog fang and jabbed it viciously into the roof of the dog's mouth. It's jaw opened wide in pain, and then I rushed foward and stabbed the Halfling through the chest with the fang. The Halfling looked down at the fang, back to me, then fell backwards into the pit. I heard something... groan, maybe? It was kind of like what a velociraptor would sound like. I heard the ripping of flesh, and a man's screams overlapping with the agonized yelping of dogs. The Lizardmen who rushed at us when Halfling fell in immediately stopped. Then they all heard the thumps. The Lizardmen scrambled for safety as the thumps got closer.

thump.

Thump.

THUMP.

THUMP!!!

I saw it. A giant lizard thing, which I guess was Reptilx. It had eight heads total, and dozens of tails all over its body. Multiple tongues flickered in and out of the mouths, and hundreds of tiny feet pitter pattered as it scrambled after us. Terri decided to do something. I didn't know what was going on until it's too late.

"Run, Roger!" She yanked out another of the doghead's teeth and jabbed the column of the cavern viciously. I could see eyes now. Large, bulbous eyes, protruding sideways from the head or perched on stiff, green scaled stalks. She stabbed at the column until it lifted from the ground. The ceiling started drooping. She swung the knife in a sweeping arc and took down another column of dogflesh. The dogs started barking and yelping as the ceiling started to collapse.

She looked at me and smiled faintly...

Then she and the Reptilx were trapped under the mass of Dogflesh. I heard the groaning of Reptilx as it fell back into its hole...

I got lost in the caverns somehow. I found a pool of Fishwater. I tried to ignore the flipping tails and fins... the pulsing of the gills that looked like ripples. The eyes staring blankly at me...

I've been travelling in this hell for 8 hours. I don't know if I can sleep, but I'm going to aimlessly shamble and try to get some rest while walking.

...Terri. I never even said...

...I have to get off now.

...Terri...

POST #7: DAY 3784 OF DOGSCAPE

They came around... noonish, I guess? They brought us piles of liquified Flesh, with dog eyes as an appetizer. I had no choice but to eat it. The dog eyes were still alive. They were seeing... not for long. I hate the way they feel, I hate the way they taste, especially when you break the white outer coating and let the inner liquids leak out. It tastes like shit. Bitter shit. And that's when I'm not thinking about what they actually are. The liquified Flesh... eh, not as bad as the eyes, but I'd've liked pure water better. Hell, even Fishwater.

"This tastes like shit." Terri spat out the eyes she was given. They lay a mashed pile on the floor, slowly getting assimilated by the dogs.

"That's what I was thinking." I put my plate and cup on the table... both were made of dog bone, btw. Gross, but effective. "So... what brought you here? Your brother, you mentioned?"

"Yeah. My brother moved down here when he grew up. He came down here to study at the University of Minnesota. My family and I lived way up in northern Alaska."

"No kidding..."

"Yeah. Back before this shit happened, we had a small, peaceful community, you had some very short days and we could make it to the Boreal Forest in under three hours if we put our minds and boat to it."

"That sounds pretty cool."

"It was. My brother, Richard, contacted me, saying that there was Dogflesh taking over Minneapolis. I didn't believe him. It took the goddam thing four years to get to where I lived. When it hit, I decided to get down here and help my brother. When he said he had to go retrieve supplies, he was ambushed by a group of these reptilian bastards. He gave me a satchel and told me to run. I shot as many of the Lizardmen as I could before I left. I don't know if he's okay or not..." She looked down mournfully and was silent for a while. Then we talked again. Life before... life during... our aspirations... or thoughts. To be honest, even in this desperate time I enjoyed having someone to talk to. It felt comforting.

The Lizardmen came in again after a while, accompanied by the Halfling. He said we were going to be brought to the chamber by tomorrow morning.

Just great.

I've finally got another human being to talk to, and I have only 18 hours left to live. Fan-fucking-tastic.

POST #6: DAY 3783 OF DOGSCAPE

Well, Terri and I have been captured. What fun. We're about to be... sacrificed, I guess? It was the Lizardmen (actually, they stated that they prefer to be called the Hand of Reptilx, I guess), and they have us somewhere in a cave system... made of dog of course. -.- Then again, I think it would be creepier if it wasn't made of dog in this day and age. The beds and tables are clear of Dogflesh somehow. I guess it's because the sacrifices are important to the Dogscape?

This is what happened.

We were getting down from the barn when a group of Lizardmen led by that asshole Halfling jumped us. He was standing at profile, eyeing us with his human eye. I yelled, "What the fuck is going on?" He turned to me. His human side was normal. The lizard side of his face was now bubbling brown Dogflesh, sometimes rising and attempting to form faces of dogs before sinking back into the blob. A dog's eye stared at me, yellowed and drooping and very, very angry.

"Oh... well... shit."

"It is no matter, Roger. Come with us."

"Why?" Terri pulled out her gun. Halfling's bubbling dog face extended and took the gun from her hand. It then ingested the gun with little more than a burble.

"I believe you know the answer, Ms. Stone." A large number of Lizardmen had trained glock pistols at our heads. One of the Lizardmen took our bags. They rifled though Terri's bag first, confiscated the guns. The food was also taken. Assholes. Do they know how rare non-dog food is these days? They let her keep the first aid and the water. They searched my bag next. They took my hatchet and Dogcow meat, and gave them both to the Halfling, who tried to sneer, had a series of almost melting, bubbling paws and tails not distracted him. He gingerly touched the formerly lizard side of his face, and glared angrily at me.

They didn't take my laptop. I had it strapped to my back by use of duct tape.

So they blindfolded us with strips of dog fur and led us to the holding cavern. They tossed us our bags, which we put on the tables.

We just laid on the beds, staring up at the cavern ceiling. Then I pulled out my laptop, started typing, and that brings us up to this point.

I'm going to get an early sleep. Well, I'll TRY, anyways.

POST #5: DAY 3782 OF DOGSCAPE

I woke up. My neck hurt. That's what I get for sleeping on the couch. But I couldn't sleep in the same bed as  Terri for obvious reasons. Number 1: We don't know each other at all really. Just shared some stories. Number 2: ...I'm kind of a cuddler. There. I said it.

Anyways, we went walking into the Dogscape. As I walked along with Terri, I realized the wailing of the dogs... for the first time in nine, ten years. Each bark sounds different, like they're all still their individual selves... and they seem to be in pain. Real pain. They're in it worse than us, and for the first time ever, I felt... truly sorry for them.

And then of course some Halfdogs showed up. With Terri's SMG and my hatchet, they weren't that big an issue.Their corpses, however, did attract some of the Tick Swarms. They feasted upon them for a while. Draining blood. a couple latched onto the eyes and drained them until they were shriveled fluidless sacs... then when there was no blood left, they let the Halfdogs go, to be assimilated into the undying mass. Without any of the major anmimals left in the Dogscape, the ticks have thrived along with mites and fleas to the point that they're the only remaining insects on Dogscape. When the Ticks run out of resources from one thing, they move on to another... and some of the closest were us. The Tick Swarm pursued us for a while. We tried to outrun it but some latched on to our skin and began sucking our blood. I felt the almost miniscule needle-like body parts enter my skin, into my bloodstream. I felt them draw the blood out, sucking it, hopefully until we were nothing.

Like hell am I gonna get murdered by something little, bloated and fat in the Dogscape. Like fucking hell. I ripped the ticks off my body, then helped Terri get some off hers. I crushed them under my feet as they were picked off. The majority of the Tick Swarm decided to go pester the Dogscape itself for a while. We had a couple deep punctures, but Terri said she had a kit somewhere. She pulled it out of her bag and handed it to me.

There were syringes, antibiotics, creams, bandages, rubbing alcohol, vitamins, water, food supplies, camping equipment... and a whole lot of pistols. The bag was heavy too. I could barely keep it off the ground. "Holy shit! You come prepared?"

"Yeah. Like hell am I going to let this cesspit take me down. And as long as you're hanging with me, same goes with you."

"There had to be more! This has been here for 10 years."

"I got a pick-me-up from my brother. He's alive too, and lives in the area. Kinda runs a caravan of supplies for survivors. His name's Richard Stone."

"So you're... Terri Stone?"

"Yes, since you asked. And yes, that also means I'm single... not that it matters in this hell."

For the record, she wasn't flirting or anything. If it wasn't the wailing masses of Dogflesh we were stepping in it would be the fact that I haven't had good hygiene in ten years. She simply stated it as fact and moved on. I appreciate her for it.

We had all the nasty wounds disinfected and bandaged up. We kept walking in silence for a while. Once I heard a dog paw snapping in the forest. I looked around and saw a Lizardman scurry out of sight. Weird. I expected them to rear their ugly heads again.

Thankfully, we found a barn that hasn't been completely assimilated and made our way to the roof. I'm typing this down now on the opposite roof of the barn. I hope she doesn't find this blog. Oh well. Well, I'm about to go to sleep. These shingles are a bitch to sleep on, but it's better than... whatever happens to you when you become part of IT. I hope I never find out.

I have to get some shuteye though. I'll keep everyone posted later.

POST #4: DAY 3781 OF DOGSCAPE

Okay, I'll try explaining all that's happened in it's glory. First of all, I woke up in the morning, got my laptop, and headed off... yeah, I found someone from apparently another Multiverse named Jessica Rand... I'll try looking up more about her later...

Anyways, when I exited the house, I saw a dog. Well, big deal, the world is a giant mass of dogs... but an actual, walking dog... not the Dogmother, not Tapering Dog, not Vortex Pooch... just... a regular dog. Walking, sniffing at the earth. The earth barked at it. The dog barked back. It seemed both frightened and playful. Against my better judgement, I decided to walk through the patch of writing paws and snouts to the dog, wagging its tail gleefully...

"Hey, there little guy..."

Ambulabitis inter vestra tenebris

"Um... what?"

maiores sicut venari, facti venari, et prædam 

"Oh fuck... runrunrunrun..."

nunc operueruntque terram. Nunc para sicut ego factus stupri terribilis aranea exaudi me rugiet!

"Oh fuck fuck fuck! DOG NOW HAS A TARANTULA HEAD WHAT THE FUCK. RUN!"

Ego rapiet sicco vestri oculi siti et fornicarentur cum vestra calvariam, tibi gallus, lactans parum piece of cacas!
Oh SON OF A BITCH. The dog's neck started cracking as it looked toward me and smiled with its human teeth. Its eyes were yellow and fierce like a cat. Then its mouth opened, and a hairy leg came out. And another. AND ANOTHER. Eventually a huge tarantula grew out of the dog's throat. The legs extended and reached the ground as the dog's growling corpse was lifted into the air, hanging by the stomach of the large tarantula by its mouth. The Tarantula chased me for a while, and eventually I was caught, trapped in front of a large cliff face covered by large dog heads eyeing me hungrily. With squishing and cracking, they were able to move down to within biting distance. The Tarantula was getting closer.

Fuck. Time to initiate plan "Shoot Their Fucking Face Off". I did so... I was able to shoot one of the giant dog heads in the eye and it wailed/barked and scrawled up the Flesh-covered cliff face. The other one then had me in a grappling match but I was able to shoot it through the throat. It snapped its jaws shut, almost on my hand, but I drew back in time. My gun, however, wasn't so lucky. And the Tarantula was getting closer.

I could see it rear its ugly head, hear it scuttle across the mass of dogs, squishing and crushing many body parts as it scrambled towards me. I waited for the end.

BANG!

HOLY DEUS EX MACHINA IT WAS A WOMAN. SHE HAD A SEMIAUTOMATIC AND WAS FIRING IT AT THE TARANTULA OH MY GOD.

She kept firing at it. Finally, she severed the Tarantula from the dog with bullets, and both collapsed dead onto the ground. The woman looked down at the dog, then to me.

She talked to me, shook my hand, introduced herself as Terri Reynolds. I introduced myself. We talked... about experiences... those things... each other... what life was like before the Dogscape.

I hardly remember life before the Dogscape. I was 14 when it started, and now I'm 25 and looking twice as old... probably... in this world, the most clear and reflective surface has fish guts in it...

We went back to the house. Shared thoughts over a bite of Dogflesh and Dogcow sandwiches. She says she found her way over here from Alaska. She says Alaska has some patches of Dogflesh, but the cold keeps them away somewhat. But she says there's other things there...even worse things. I'm not going to ask. I wouldn't want to know anyways. She says she's going to tag along with me, since I'm one of the only other human beings she saw here... there was another group, but... yeah...

I'm going to go to couch. She says she's going to sleep on the bed. And I shall oblige the kind lady that privelege. Well, night. And that eye is fucking creeping me out. I'm going to face you the other way when I'm done.

Which is right now.

ROGER, SURVIVOR

POST #3: DAY 3780 OF DOGSCAPE

Woke up. Any normal day... well, as normal as a world full of wailing dog biomatter could be. I had a bad crick in my back and a fucking red hot charlie horse put my right thigh into a knot of pain for a while. I moved on. I was accompanied by nothing more than the wailing of the dogs and the bulbous dog eye on the laptop. It was staring at me.

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

Then it blinked. I walked on.

Sometime after, perhaps three or four hours, I heard a faint rumble. I thought nothing of it at first... then I looked behind me.

HUGE FUCKING DOG PAW, 6:00!

It crashed into the ground next to me. I could see it up close. It was made of thousands of little dog heads, all barking and yelping. as the paw lifted into the air. That was a huge paw. It was as big as a train and thick around as an old oak tree. I looked behind again. If the paw was THAT BIG, then the HEAD would be

"FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKRUNNINGRUNNINGRUNNINGRUNNINGRUNNINGRUNNINGRUNNINGRUNNING..."

I ended up going much faster than I usually did. I believe I had no choice in the matter, but still... I should've competed in the Olympics. I looked behind me. The giant dog thing was still back there, but it seemed to have not moved an inch from where it was. I saw its head. Instead of eyes, there were deep, dark pockets. It was only a faintly dog-shaped head made of billions of pounds of Dogflesh.

So that was the Dogmother. Jesus Christ.

When I looked around. There were Lizardmen everywhere. They all stood in a circle around me. They all had guns pointed at me. I recognized the 30 tailed one. There was a large hole in his side, but otherwise, he survived. He made a clicking noise, and brought forth another Lizardman. This one, however, had half of his face be human. While disturbing and grotesque, this was the closest thing I had to human companionship in a while.

"Welcome, inferite," said the Halfling. "You shall come with us."

The Lizardmen clicked in agreement.

"Why should I?" I asked. Immediately they cocked their guns and aimed them. "I get the picture."

"Come with us, inferite."

We walked towards the Dogmother. The Dogmother, also called the Dogmass by the people who don't bow to its mangled, barking feet, is a great being who breaks off from the Dogscape at times. It is said to be the hive mind, the queen of the biomatter that assimilates all the dogs. I say it's just an anomaly... like the Tapering Dog or the Vortex Pooch, to name a couple (Tapering Dog is the one that stabbed the Lizardman who tried to kill me, btw). We walked constantly, trying to make sure the Dogflesh beneath our feet didn't pull us into itself. Finally, we stopped in front of the Dogmother. The Halfling brought forth another person, a complete human.

"Now, Brothers and Sisters, we have our sacrifices prepared! The Great Mother shall be pleased with us for this bountiful offering!" With that, he brought the first poor bastard up. I closed my eyes. I heard the clotty, creaking movements of the Dogmother, the crushing of the man's ribs, the man screaming in agony as he was turned into a part of it, the crunching, and the clotty movements again. I opened my eyes. All the Lizardmen had their eyes on me. Oh fuck. I was the second poor bastard. Well, I rushed the Halfling, pulled out my gun, and put it to his head.

"Don't fucking move, or your preacher is as good as dead!" The Lizardmen stood, looking at the quivering Halfling in my chokehold. They still pulled their guns. I threw the Halfling into the Dogmother and began shooting the Lizardmen. Many of them did not have the chance to take a shot before I killed them. There were still three left when I pulled the trigger...

Click.

...

Click. Click.

"Oh fuck. Oh hai, Leezardmehn, I was just in the neighborhood to play some formal footbaRUNRUNRUNRUNLIKEABAUSRUNLIKEABAUS..."

In any case, after that encounter, I trekked on with only a couple minor problems.

Fishriver, tribes of Lizardmen, the occasional Tick Swarm. I think I caught a glimpse of Taper Dog. Hi, Taper Dog!

Anyways, I found another house. Most of the houses were torn down by biomatter and infused to the landscape a long time ago. A couple are still in the early stages. And the house I'm in is one. The floors are all dogs on the first floor. The second floor is still in good shape. And I'm on the comfiest bed in the known fucking universe.

Well, g'night... again.

POST #2: DAY 3779 OF DOGSCAPE

I woke up today. The Dogflesh started spreading It was on the sheets and large eyes were staring at me, mouths gaping hungrily. Some were barking, mingling with the neverending cacophony of wailing dogs. One tried gnawing at me with its fanged snout. I cut it off with my hatchet, got my laptop, and headed out. I walked among the rolling hills of sentient Flesh for a while. I found an orchard of Dogtrees and Dogfruit. Then the rain came in. It always rains one of three things: Dog Blood, Fishwater, or pure water. Dog Blood is not drinkable, but the other two are, though I never much cared for the Fishwater... too many pieces of fish still left inside.

Thankfully, it was pure water today. I was able to collect some with a canteen to carry with me. I walked, munching on a Dogfruit and looking around at the fucked up world around me.

If I remembered correctly, the Oasis is a couple hundred miles to the north. I might find my way there eventually.

But first... the fucking river.

Let me explain something. While the Dogflesh covers all land on Earth, there's other... Things... too. The Halfdogs being one of them. Now, water... that's the Fishriver territory. Somehow, the fish in the river slowly... dissolved... melted... now they're a bunch of floating body parts on a mass of liquid made up of mostly their juices and liquids. It's disgusting, its noxious, and I had to cross it.

I tried looking around for something to use as a raft. The Dogtrees, while trees, do not float. For one thing, their gaping, wailing mouths cause water to collect and sink. Secondly, you can't... cut down... a Dogtree... at least without tentacles popping up... and eyes...

It was not a pleasant experience. I couldn't swim across... well, I could, but I would leave all my stuff behind. I could throw my stuff over, but the laptop would break, get eaten, or both. In this Crapsack World, probably both.

However, I managed to find a narrow gap in the river, so I cut down one of the Dogtrees. The mass of bloody tentacles, strands hanging out at places, tried to grab at my face. So I hacked off the tentacles and did my best to carry the tree to the narrow part and lay it across.

It was tough going and even tougher getting across, but I made it finally. However, I noticed a couple of things poking their heads out at me... Lizardmen.

Fucking Lizardmen. Let me explain. They are a tribe of naked things running through the Dogforests. They were once human, but their desert lifestyle and the biomatter experiment caused them to mutate into part lizard part human ... things... or Things. They have untold number of eyes, anywhere between 1 and 30 tails, a series of almost tentacle-like tongues, and usually their skin ranges from the "partially sick" to "deeply hued vomit" shades of green. They work with each other, but they're not human anymore. And they don't like people who are still human at all.

The tribal leader guy, who had 30 tails (how many tails you have signifies how important you are in their culture... I know. Hey, don't laugh. If you had 30 penises, you'd be worshipped. And don't deny it.) and 5 eyes on his head, licked at one of them with his tentacle tongues while he sized me up. Then, he made a weird chittering noise, and then my following statement probably explains enough...

"OHFUCKSHITFUCKSHITRABABAABABABABABABABABABABBA..."

Thankfully, they're also fairly slow creatures unless when they crawl on all fours. The only ones who had enough legs to do that were already easy targets for my pistol. The others tried their best to lumber or hop after me. Another thing I could be thankful for is the, for lack of a better term, giant fucking pitbull head charging everyone at about 70 MPH. I ducked out of the way. The Shambling Lizardmen... not so lucky. They were eaten. I then saw that the giant pitbull head was attatched by a long, tapering, and bloated neck to an equally long, tapered, and bloated body. The tail tapered off into a very sharp point and it used this against the thirty-tailed guy. Poor Lizardman was skewered.

Anyways, I found their camp. A couple Dogfruits, Fishwater, pure water, even a Dogcow... the cow and the beef is still in there somewhere, but Dogflesh is better than no meat... still, I haven't had beef in two years. Dogcows are fucking rare!

Anyways, after a good couple of minutes nomming on some roasted Dogcow, I decided to find another place to rest for the night. I found another house. The occupants weren't Halfdogs, though. They were probably already assimilated into the landscape. The beds were covered in Dogflesh, so I'm sleeping on their kitchen table. Yeah. I know. Sucks to be me.

Anyways, I'm on the table now, just finishing this up. Of the... four... maybe five people who have a computer and are alive in this hellhole, are you enjoying this so far?

I certainly amn't.

Well, going to sleep. Goodnight, Moon. Goodnight, Laptop. Goodnight, Billions of Wailing Dogthings... Goodnight, Roger.

ROGER, SURVIVOR

POST #1: DAY 3778 OF DOGSCAPE

I woke up today not knowing what I'd find. Where I would go and what I would eat. I do not fear eating the Dogfruit. Crunching into the mixture of dog flesh and apple, tasting the blood and muscle mingle with the sweet apple taste. I've acquired quite a taste for it, if I do say so myself. My name is Roger. And I have been surviving this hell for ten years.

Every day I wake up on something soft and not dog-like, if I can help it. I step on the floor, covered in the flesh of untold number of dogs. The biomass began spreading a decade ago, and wan't able to be contained. It consumed the world in short time, and people started turning into the dog flesh too. I try to forget.

That sometimes I might eat dogs. Other times I'm eating what once was a man. I don't want to think about it. There's still water. But I don't recommend getting water from the river.... that water is

THAT FUCKING EYE. GET OFF GET OFF...

Sorry about that. I found this laptop in a house. It was covered in Dogflesh. I carry a hatchet and a pistol just in case any of the Things are in there. There were. Two people, a man and a woman. They were slowly turning into Dogflesh but they weren't part of the Dogscape yet. They were vicious and wild and their mutliple mouths with large rows of teeth nearly did me in. Thankfully I was able to put one of them in the way of the other and then, as one of them began to cannibalize the other, I hacked off the other's head with my hatchet.

I found the laptop in the kitchen. It works and it has internet, but it's slightly covered in Dogflesh. And there's a single, bulbous eye on the laptop. Staring up at me. I'm not going to poke it, but it's giving the the fucking willies.

They have a bed. And it's not covered in Flesh. I'm going to sleep here for the night. I'm going to leave the laptop on a table. I don't want the Flesh to spread while I sleep.

I don't know if anyone is reading this, if there's anyone else alive in this hell, but it seems to be a good way of venting, and since the internet is up, I've decided to post my experiences in the world. But first, I'm going to tell you something: I'm heading to Oasis. I might find a life there. I might truly find a way out.

ROGER, SURVIVOR