The Journal of Project 13

This journal was discovered on November 30th, 2011. It was found buried deep within the Earth, stained with blood at some points, along with dirt. The front had blood smeared along it, and some faint Russian lettering.
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==November 19th, 1932==
From what my parents tell me, this is the date I was born. My name is (Name etched out), I don't think last names are neccessary seeing as how I should be the only one to have this Journal. I am 14 years old, and I've been growing up in (Location etched out).
==November 19th, 1946==
I turn 15 today, and my parents gave me this journal as a birthday present. Although the threat of a war is clear now-a-days, I'll have to stay positive, and hope for the best
==November 20th, 1946==
Right now I'm writing this while in bed, in the attic of my home. I can hear gunshots below, and the screaming of both my sister and mother. I then hear the shouts of my father, a loud groan, suddenly silenced by a thumping sound. I hear them storming up the stairs into the attic, they're coming for me. They just broke through, I'm going to (Dried blood smeared the rest of the page)
==November 21st, 1946==
As I woke up, I looked around at my surrondings. The sound of gravel bring crushed was underneath me, and the area I was in was dark. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see where I was. I was in the back of a truck. I examined the back of the truck, it was enclosed, like one of those army trucks. My hands were cuffed and my feet shackled. It was then that I took notice to the 12 other people around me. Several males, and six females. They looked about my age, except for one of the boys, in whom looked somewhere around 17. I looked to the girl beside me. She had a long gash down the side of her head, she was alive, but she was unconscious. I turned to my other side, seeing a boy awake, staring at me. That's when I finally spoke up; "Where are we, where are they taking us?!" The boy seemed tired, and responded with a flat; "Hell." Just as I was about to ask what he was talking about, the back of the truck lurched open. Four of the six girls screamed, and five of the boys stood up, though they were pulled back down by the shackles on their feet. Two men came in, both wielding rifles. That's when they shouted in Russian, "We're taking your cuffs and shackles off. You will follow us in a single file line. If you try to run, or leave the group, you will be killed. Do I make myself clear?" All 13 of us spoke at once, "Yes." They un-did our shackles and cuffs, and led us out of the truck, in a line. When we got out, our visions were clouded by smoke, where we could only see a few feet infront of us, and the air smelled of gasoline.
They brought us forward, into a large building, in which was a simple grey color. We were brought through the building, which we could now see clearly. The walls were stained with blood, corpses layed everywhere. We were brought through two large doors, into a room with 13 seats, one for the each of us. One of the men poked me in the back with the front of his rifle, ushering me forward and towards the last seat. I took a seat, when thirteen men in labcoats paced out through doors infront of us. He spoke in Russian, when five men came out with what looked like something that would tattoo us. The girl at the very front was tattooed with a bold , crimson 1. The boy next to her was tattooed with a 2. The next with a 3, and so on and so forth. I was finally tattooed with a 13. The men left, when the one of the men in labcoats spoke once more, "You are all here for a reason. That reason, is to serve your country in the oncoming war against the American swine. You shall be taught to be soldiers, the greatest soldiers known to man. You will go through many... "Trials", before you are perfect. You will now be escorted with your training partner to your living quarters, where you will stay until you are perfect." Then, I felt myself hoisted from my chair, towards a door on the far side of the room. A boy was infront of me, the eldest one, with the tattoo of 2 along his wrist.
We were tossed into the room, and the door was shut behind us with a loud clicking sound. The room looked luxurious, with a decent view of the smokey world below. I turned to the boy I was thrown in with. We locked eyes, when he spoke up, "He's going to come for us, you know, and he's going to take us, and save us." I responded, "Who?" His reply, before wandering off to explore the room, "Why tell you? That would just take the fun out of everything, wouldn't it?"
==November 21st, 1946==
I just woke up. It seems pretty late, but it can't be near midnight. I thought I heard someone whispering my name during my sleep. It was a sickening, raspy voice that I heard. Something's not right in this place, I just can't put my finger on what it is exactly...
==To be Continued...==
The Journal is actually being stretched out into four or more parts, so this would be part 1. I'll post Part two soon enough.
If you actually liked this, then you should be fine with waiting for a second part... Right?
Uploader's note: The journal was left unfinished for two months and was subsequently deleted from the Creepypasta Wiki
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:Jornel
Category:TOTALLY NOT UNFINISHED U GUIZE
Category:English Class Failure
Category:Old Shit