Journal of Riley “Scout” Thompson
New Florida Rangers

Entry 1: 02/15/2293
We’ve received a flood of distress requests from several settlements across the central Florida Wastelands. It seems the locals are being attacked at night by creatures they can barely describe—just shadows and terrifying howls. The first request came from a settlement near Lake Apopka, followed by calls from further north, including Vault 23. They all plead for help, claiming the attacks are getting worse.

The Council has decided we can’t ignore these cries for assistance. Tomorrow, we set out from The Sunshine State. I’ll be heading up a small contingent—myself, Blake, and Jenna. If we can figure out what these things are, maybe we can put a stop to it before more settlements fall prey to whatever’s lurking in the dark.

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Entry 2: 02/17/2293
We made good time, reaching Vault 23 by mid-afternoon. The residents there are a mix of hopeful and terrified. They reported creatures that come in packs, striking at the heart of their settlement during the dead of night. I’ve heard whispers of raiders and mutated wildlife in these parts, but nothing like this.

We offered to help fortify their defenses and set up watch shifts. They’re grateful but wary—hard to blame them when they’ve been through so much already. After a long day, we set up camp just outside the vault, keeping an ear out for any sounds of trouble.

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Entry 3: 02/19/2293
On our way to Soggy Bottom, we stopped at an old turnpike checkpoint to resupply. Big mistake. We were ambushed by a group of raiders—maybe ten of them. They must’ve been watching us for a while. A skirmish broke out, and we fought tooth and nail.

Jenna took a shot to the shoulder, but thankfully it wasn’t deep. Blake and I managed to take down a couple of them before they scattered. It’s alarming how brazen they’ve become. We can’t keep ignoring these threats, especially if the real danger lies beyond the raiders. What’s out here is far more concerning.

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Entry 4: 02/21/2293
We arrived in Soggy Bottom today. It’s a ghost town—half-submerged buildings and an eerie quiet that puts your nerves on edge. The locals told us they haven’t seen the creatures themselves but can hear their howling echoing through the swamps at night.

We’ve started setting up defenses around what’s left of the town, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’re not prepared for what’s coming. I swear I saw movement out of the corner of my eye as we worked. Maybe it’s just paranoia, but in this line of work, it’s best to trust your instincts.

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Entry 5: 02/23/2293
It’s nighttime, and we’re holed up in one of the last standing buildings, doing our best to keep watch. That howling from the woods is growing louder, more menacing. It sounds almost like a pack of wolves but mixed with something far more primal.

Just moments ago, we heard a terrifying sound—like claws scraping against the walls of the building. It sent chills down my spine. Jenna is on edge, and Blake is gripping his rifle like it’s his lifeline. We need to investigate but it feels like walking into a trap. The locals are sleeping, blissfully unaware of the danger creeping closer.

I’m writing this as we prepare to leave the safety of our camp. We’ll scout the perimeter and see if we can uncover the source of those sounds. Whatever is out there, it’s time we faced it head-on. If these creatures are as dangerous as the settlements say, we may be in for the fight of our lives.

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Entry 6: 02/24/2293
We ventured into the woods, and the howling stopped. Just silence. The kind of silence that fills you with dread. Then, I saw something flash between the trees—a shadow, moving too quickly to be anything human.

We found claw marks on the trees, deep gouges that looked fresh. Whatever is out there, it’s not just some wild animal. The air grew cold as we pressed deeper into the woods. We’re on high alert, ready for anything. I can only hope we’re prepared for what we might find.

This may be my last entry. I’ll write again if we survive the night.