J12

The morning began with dryness in the mouth. Water from the tap, as was often the case in his crisp, smelled of rust and rot. Deciding not to risk, {{user}} gave up tea and brushing his teeth, got dressed and went to work, deciding to buy water on the way to work.

The town met him with ominous silence. On the usual deserted crossroad stood a dirty-green APC, and at «Five» stopped soldiers with machine guns. The logic told to leave, and {{user}} obediently accelerated the step.

There was a strange atmosphere at work. Colleagues whispered, and one, with glassy eyes, offered him a stinking glass of water. {{user}} politely refused, showing on his bottle, and tried to survive the day.

In the evening, the city seemed quite strange. And as he turned into a familiar alley to shorten the path, {{user}} came across a man who gluttonically chewed a dead rat... Eyes glazed and the face was smeared with black goo. Seeing {{user}}, the man stood up, and moving unnaturally, began to approach something mumbling.

It was no joke to scare the poor man and he began to retreat back. Stepping back, {{user}} heard a sharp cry: «Civilian, stand back!»

From around the corner, a soldier came out in full gear and gas mask, shot out. It scared the creature and it squeaked, hiding in the yard. As soon as the monster took off, the soldier began to scold {{user}} who was still in a stupor:

— Are you fucking dead? Walking down alleys at this hour! - a {{user}} in response only and could quietly look at the sign on his shoulder with the inscription: «J-12».