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Post by Aanonchan on May 3, 2011 17:02:24 GMT -5
This is what you call an apocalypse. It's been three months since the first outbreak, and now the United States is a walking hell. There is no more radio except desperate pleas for help over civilian broadband. There is no more television, no more internet, no nothing. The government has abandoned us, hidden inside some secret underground bunker to wait out the walking plague. Yes. The plague walks.
Some call them demons, the undead, but the word that comes most readily to mind is zombies.
There are several stages to the plague. Humans become infected two ways, exposure to infected blood, or a bite. If a human is bitten, it dies and is reanimated. If a human is just exposed... they live, but become a carrier for the plague and when they die, they reanimate. The only way to kill one of the reanimated is to destroy the brain.
There has been a beacon of hope though. An anonymous broadcaster has set up a safe house and now calls any remaining survivors to muster behind its walls. There is a limited time before the dead build up and make this place inaccessible. The broadcasters tag is Feather, and each broadcast is the same:
<<Testing, one two three. Testing one two three. This is Feather. I am broadcasting from a safe house in Tennessee, close to the Appalachian mountains. If you are still alive, still uninfected, I offer you refuge. Look for the Northeast Correctional Complex. I'll be waiting for you there. Be safe. Northeast Correctional Complex. I'll be waiting. This is Feather, signing off.>>
The broadcast plays on the hour, every hour, with the same scrambled voice and the same message. Now, a group of survivors has made it to the prison turned safehouse. With the walking dead outside, they're willing to take their chances with whatever might be inside the Northeast Correctional Complex.
All new survivors enter the quarantine area, which is the converted visitor's room. After a time, they are allowed further into the complex and assigned a job. There is some electricity in the facility, and the security cameras are fully functional and move from time to time as if someone's monitoring the area.
Needed: Residents, guards, survivors.
Character list:
Leader/Broadcaster: Feather (Played by Aanonchan)
Survivors: Samuel Vines (Played by hizumi) Johnathan Marsh (Played by killthehero) Wells Owens (Played by Aanonchan) Serafina Sørensen (Played by Serynn) Emil Faust (Played by Katsuragi Panda) Erik White (Played by Cold)
//If you're interested, please send me a personal message, create a character and I'll place you on the character list. Then you can post! PS| You're allowed to have more than one character.//
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Hizumi
New Member
Cesar SALAD[/color][/size][/b]
Posts: 16
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Post by Hizumi on May 3, 2011 22:36:07 GMT -5
In a small farm town near the Mississippi River, a man of roughly 19 years of age, lives with his mother. This man's name is Samuel Vines. He runs the small farm they live on, previously run by his father. The farm wasn't profitable enough, so Vines's father took on an extra job at mining facility, in which working conditions were hard. And one day there was a terrible accident causing his father to perish in the mines. Since then, his mother hasn't been the same. She stays home knitting sweaters for the husband that will never come home. Vines has had to take over all the work in their farm including caring for the plants, and caring for his household.
On the day of the outbreak, their small town is relatively unaffected. They go days without seeing anything strange. The outbreak happened during the annual flood causing the waters to rise. The waters were different this year. They were slightly dyed a red color. This was the first sign the town had of the outbreak. They didn't worry much about it as they thought it was just a large amount of clay dissolved into the water. The next day bodies started coming downriver. These bodies were dead. Atleast it seemed they were. The town pulled multiple bodies out of the river to try to give them a proper burial. The bodies immediately reanimated when taken out of the water. The attacks started. Half the town was killed and reanimated in a matter of minutes. Vines was unaware of the outbreak the whole time. Then there were screams. Vines looked outside and saw a mass of zombies coming towards his farm. He could tell what they were immediately. He knew he had to get away. He grabbed his father's shotgun, and spare ammunition, and told his mother to get into their truck immediately. The mother went crazy. "Leave your father's gun alone! He won't like it when he gets home!" She started fighting with her son for the gun. "There's no time! Get in the car now!" he yelled. But his mother just ignored him.
The door was broken down. Zombies started coming inside. "Honey! you finally came back!" yelled his mother. She went to the closest zombie, holding him passionately. "Mom! Get away from that thing!"
"Dear, please talk to our son. He wanted to take your gun! He needs you to talk to him" she said to the zombie. The zombie looked on with a blank expression. Then without warning his teeth sank into her neck. "Mom!!!" yelled Vines. The mother just looked happy with tears in her eyes. The other zombies started sinking their teeth into her body. She laughed the whole time. "I love you too dear!"
Vines knew it was too late. He wiped tears off his face and dove out through a window. He got into his old pickup truck and drove away. He didn't know what to do. He turned on the radio and heard the message from Feather. He headed towards the Appalachian Mountains. Not knowing what lies ahead.
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Post by killthehero on May 5, 2011 1:52:27 GMT -5
Around three months ago a special forces unit was dispatched by the CDC to contain all those that were infected by the virus. Their orders were clear. Lock down all major exits going in and out of the city of Birmingham AL, and terminate any and every civilian that have been infected.
A man by the name of Johnathan Marsh was part of the special task unit that was dispatched in Birmingham. John was in his mid twenties. He is a kind hearted family man. Some say he wouldn't hurt a fly but that soon changed after he went to the military. He joined the spec ops just shortly after going into the military right out of high school. Johnathan has been training ever since then. This was his first assignment. Having never been in an actual combat situation he didn't know what to expect.
He was part of a small army that moved its way into the city. They set up exit points around all major roads. No one was to exit the city until they were cleared to do so. Things went smoothly for the first couple of days. But one night all hell broke loose. Alarms went off all over the evacuation points. The captain rushed to the tent where John was stationed. "We have to get moving! The infection has spread more rapidly than we thought!" The captain yelled. John quickly jumped to his feet. "W-what are you talking about?!" The captain grabbed hold of Johns body armor and pulled him out of the tent. "Look at this!" Johnathan looked toward the barricade fence near the front of the station. People were climbing and screaming like they had seen a ghost. John gave his captain a confused face and looked back at the fence. This time he squinted his eyes to see further past the large crowd. He would never forget what he saw.
Man devouring other men. This was something you'd see in grotesque horror film. John couldn't help but stare at the civilians being consumed by the damned. John began to feel sick and he threw up on the ground beside him. "Get a hold of yourself son!" said the captain. "Oh shit." John said as he ran back to the tent to fetch his standard issue M16A2 carbine. As he exited the tent with all his gear he could see that the barricade had been taken down by the horde fleeing civilians. Thousands ran in terror from the undead army. "Open fire!" the captain ordered. John quickly put his rifle to his shoulders. He aimed down the sight and fired upon the first infected target. "BANG BANG" two rounds penetrated the chest cavity of his target. But to Johns surprise it was still running as fast as it could towards him.
"Retreat!" Johnathan began to retreat. Looking back at his squad being overrun by the infected he saw his team being eaten alive. Now John has seen a lot of things in his day but never something as sickening like this. That was about the time he stopped looking and started running for his life.
Three months have passed. He has fled south toward Louisiana in hopes of finding anyone that might know whats going on.
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Post by Aanonchan on May 5, 2011 16:34:33 GMT -5
New Orleans was hell on earth.
The bayou had long invaded the flooded city, and the zombies were devouring the gators in the muddy and half-swamped streets. Here, the outbreak had been accompanied by a hurricane.
Devastation.
Blood and wind and thunder.
People trapped with the infected in their attics as the levees broke again, as the Mississippi flooded with a rabid vengeance. The muddy waters carried the dead into the gulf of course, but this time, some of the corpses decided to stick around.
It took a month to get out of downtown New Orleans, which was turning into one of the bigger hot zones in the southern United States, although no one knew it at a time. They were walking up from the beaches and harbors and... from everywhere really.
A month on top of that was how long it took to get out of the surrounding suburbs unscathed. Now the third month was drawing to a close and fifty miles or so north of the Crescent City, Wells Owens was about ready to give up from exhaustion, stress, and hunger.
Travelling north on Interstate 59 had seemed a good idea. Flat, good walking, most of the cars had been swept away by the flooding. But here, in the Wildlife Refuge. (Bogue Chitto? Something ridiculous like that), Wells was at the end of the line.
She had finished the last of her reserve food from that convenience store she had managed to raid in Pearl River, and now she was running out of water too. She didn't dare chance drinking the muddy swamp water, and it hadn't rained for a week.
Wells buried her head in her hands and fiddled with the small radio she had found. It was some emergency model, capable of recieving and transmitting.
Static.
Nothing but static.
She let the static hum into the silence of the marshy forest and sobbed into her hands. She no longer cared about the living dead, about the 'guars or alligators or anything else.
Three months of surviving hell on earth armed with nothing but a hunting pistol and a trenchknife, three months of blood and hell and nightmares, three months of chaos and anarchy and demons from hell raging for her blood and flesh.
Three months and she was convinced she was the only survivor in the entire world.
The radio transmitted her sobs to anyone who might be listening--small animal cries of hurt and fear and pain.
Three months and there was nothing that Llewella Owens wanted to do more than die.
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Post by Serynn on May 6, 2011 19:12:16 GMT -5
Compared to the others, Serafina was doing rather well. Nobody important to her had died. Though there wasn't anybody important to her in the first place, she didn't dwell on the technicalities. She managed to live in a grocery store for the first month without the sight of a zombie, but then the rotten food stench was too much for her to bare and she had to leave. But not before pocketing anything that could be useful later. She was a kleptomaniac before all this, and didn't find any reason to stop now.
It reminded her of a funny story that happened, and she was about to tell it to the mustard, but then she realized that mustard didn't talk back. She became momentarily depressed by that fact, but carried on after a short moping session.
Though the brunette didn't find any zombies, she also didn't see any live humans, either. There was evidence of the disease throughout the islands she managed to swim to. A dead body here, someone's arm there, some phallic body part in a tree... Sera didn't really want to know how that got there. But nobody tried to eat her. That was always nice.
It didn't surprise her that there wasn't much activity. There was a great flood that covered the Outer Banks the night that the disease got out, so there were few people with all their body parts left. It was awfully lonely, though. Now that she was walking on Highway 64, she noticed this lonelyness. The only thing that kept her sane was the tiny radio she kept on her belt buckle. Though it only made static noises, that wind-like sound somehow comforted her.
What she hadn't counted on was the highway being out halfway through. It wouldn't haven been a problem if she was anywhere near land, but she was in between the mainland and the Outer Banks on a piece of cement. It wasn't a big hole, but big enough where she couldn't jump it. She would be damned if she had to go all the way back... so she tried jumping it with a car.
Not one of her best ideas, she realized mid-jump. Bad time to realize that. The car was halfway across the gap, but the tires didn't really line up with the opposite end's pavement. A "OH SHIT" went through her mind while she frantically tried to fasten her seatbelt, then she was ejected head-first outside of the vehicle's windshield. She promptly blacked out, 'cuz glass hurts.
When she came too, it was night. Serafina guessed it was the next day, but you could never really be sure when you didn't have a clock. It was one of the few things she didn't pack with her. Darn.
The woman-child inched towards the edge of the cement and looked down. There was no car. If her seatbelt was fastened, she would be gone as well.
And she never wore a seatbelt again.
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Hizumi
New Member
Cesar SALAD[/color][/size][/b]
Posts: 16
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Post by Hizumi on May 6, 2011 23:15:23 GMT -5
Vines was at the wheel. He had been driving non-stop for over 24 hours (mostly due to his horrible sense of direction). It was just an 8 hour trip to reach Tennesse, but somehow he ended up in Washington D.C.
There he saw them.
He hadn't seen so many people in his entire life! The only problem was, they weren't exactly people. Zombies all around. They weren't paying attention to him though. They were concentrated on the loud noises emanating from the the direction of the White House.
It seemed the military was defending one of the last strongholds remaining in the country. But even then the smell of blood was so putrid, Vines could'nt get out of his car. He saw bodies piling up everywhere. Most of these bodies had their heads taken off in different ways. Some were simply slashed off, while others were blown into pieces or crushed completely.
Vines wasn't a smart person, but even he could tell that this wasn't a coincidence. He knew there was something about the heads of these zombies that could stop them. But he just couldn't put his finger on it.
He tried to see if there was any way to get near the soldiers, but they were shooting into the huge crowd of zombies, and if he got any closer, he would surely be in range of their bullets, not to mention the zombies. He stared on for almost half an hour watching the zombies being sprayed. The time was 6:59. His radio was on as always to listen to the hourly Feather broadcast, when suddenly the broadcast started. During his normal fidgeting with the dials, he seemed to have turned the volume up to the max. The broadcast was loud enough to attract some of the closer zombies. They started going towards him reaching his car. They clawed through the windows while vines was driving in reverse as fast as he could. He hit a tree and the zombies were ricoched off. He put the car in drive and drove as far away from D.C. as he could.
He had driven for about 20 minutes with thoughts of what could have happened to him. Their blood was splattered on the partially broken windows, but he kept driving.
He was on an empty highway at this point still breathing heavily from his close call. Suddenly 2 hands grabbed around his neck from behind him. The car spiraled out of control.
He ended up on upside down when the car stopped. The zombie seemed to be damaged by the crash too. He had to think quickly. He got up, enduring the pain echoing through his body, and grabbed his gun from the car. He shot twice into the zombie but it only scrambled a bit. Then he knew what he had to. He took aim. A bullet shot and went straight into the zombies head. It layed lifeless (well inanimate, since technically, they are already dead.). He looked at the condition of the car and could tell there was no hope for it starting again. He decided all he could do was follow the highway and hope he could find others along the way.
Something ominous was about him however. As he walked away, he felt a scratch on his neck. A possible battle wound? An injury from the car? He could'nt tell. But one things certain. He didn't want to become the thing which he now hated most in the world.
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Post by Katsuragi Panda on May 7, 2011 0:53:05 GMT -5
Emil wasn't entirely sure what had happened. Three months ago he had been working in the diner in Knoxville where he had finally managed to find someone who wouldn't fire him for his utter lack of coordination. Then something strange had happened. Hadn't it? It must have, because Emil was no longer there working.
So what had happened? Emil remembered some people acting out of the ordinary. It had just seemed odd at first, but then people had started killing each other. Emil wasn't sure how he had gotten out of the diner alive. Maybe he was lucky?
He stumbled over the root of a tree, dropping one of the large cooking knives he had taken from the diner. He looked down and saw a fresh wound on his left leg from the knife. So maybe he wasn't lucky. Either way, he was most certainly lost. There was no question about that.
The outbreak of the plague in Knoxville was slow, which is probably the only reason Emil was able to get out of town in time to save himself. He wondered if his parents had gotten out of town. They had been in town then right? He couldn't remember. They were often on trips out of town, so he could never be sure of where they were.
Emil looked around at the forest. It looked the same as it had yesterday, when he was lost. Which meant that he must still be lost. He had been lost for a good long while. At least today things were slightly different. Today he finally had a goal.
Earlier in the day he had found a radio and begun fiddling with it. Before he dropped and broke it he had managed to find a station with a message being broadcast from a prison in eastern Tennessee. Being lost had been somewhat exciting at first, but it had started to lose the thrill of adventure. Emil had decided to head for the location mentioned in the broadcast immediately after realizing how close he probably was to its origin.
Picking up the knife he dropped Emil started forward again, towards the safe house. Probably.
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Post by killthehero on May 7, 2011 22:25:50 GMT -5
Johnathan Marsh found him self going south on highway 59. the only thing keeping the soldier going was a compass, his canteen, a combat knife, a pistol and his M16A2 carbine which was very low on ammo. He thought he was gonna die on this road. Not a living soul in sight. He took a break and sat in the seat of an old worn pickup. John let loose a deep sigh grabbed his half full canteen and took a small sip of water. As he did, he thought of his family, and loved ones. It was doubtful that any of them were still alive. He let out another sigh as he got out of the pick up to continue his trek to nowhere.
About ten miles down this highway to hell he could hear a faint whimpering sound coming from the other side of the barricade. John quickly drew out his pistol in fear that is was a walker. He hasn't ran in to many in the past month so he didn't want to take any chances. He walked slowly toward to barricade and vaulted over it with ease. The noise seemed to be coming fro the opposite direction he was traveling. He knew he was getting closer and closer.
John came to a car that was washed to the side of the street. He peaked over the top and found a kid sitting there crying. She appeared to be a teenager. Johnathan put his pistol away and walked in front of the kid. "Whats wrong? Are you injured?!"
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Post by Aanonchan on May 7, 2011 22:41:22 GMT -5
Wells didn't see the man until he spoke.
Her head whipped up, she automatically scrambled back-- her hand clenched around the trench knife and in a defensive position in front of her body. He was way past striking distance and her hunting pistol was beyond arm-length. Shit shit shit
Wait. Zombies don't talk. It was a very long second before her brain fully processed this. She didn't lower the knife, but she did look up at him more closely now that she was sure he wasn't going to maul her. Tall. Armed. Most likely dangerous. Army? She didn't know there was still an army. Maybe there were more soldiers and she would be safe?-- No.
The tears had left clean streaks among the blood and dirt on her face, and Wells prayed that her voice could be mistaken for a boy's. Maybe with her hair cropped as short as it was now, he would be fooled... "Are you going to hurt me?" She eyed his gun meaningfully. "I'm not bit or anything." Her green eyes flickered. She knew what happened to people that got bit. "Honest."
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Post by Serynn on May 8, 2011 11:14:28 GMT -5
When it was getting closer to evening, the girl managed to pick up something other than static on the radio. Only a few words got through, but that gave her enough hope to brave the mainland. At first.
After a couple hours in Greenville, she realized that she needed more than hope.
Her first real zombie encounter didn't go so well. It had grabbed her from behind. She first though that she was going to become a rape victim, but then remembered that these weren't ordinary circumstances. She managed to pistol-whip the thing off of her, then shot it in the head. After a couple of really bad-aimed bullets. She wasn't good at this.
She figured out from other zombie movies that they usually died when their brain was destroyed. Well... died again. And it seemed that this was true for real life. But could animals be infected? She would hate to be bit by an infected misquito. Not only would it itch, but she'd have a taste for brains. Not the most appetizing thing.
Farther inland, she managed to hear the full message. Tennessee, eh? She heard rumors of Tennessee. Like it was supposed to be a hick state or something. It wouldn't hurt to find other people to be around, would it?
...Would it?
She followed some freeways up to Asheville. She didn't care about their names at this point. Just some other area that looked like any other. She managed to hotwire a car once, but the fuel ran out after a couple of miles. That was sadening. But she needed to get there now. Needed to. After listening to the same message over and over, it almost had a sort of brainwashing effect on her. Now, all her steps were to get there. That was all her life consisted of now.
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Post by Cold on May 10, 2011 14:34:14 GMT -5
The car was packed and idling when all hell broke loose. Of course there was some warning, there always is, but most of the time you're too damn preoccupied in your own little life to really give it any notice, or to really care. Erik White was too preoccupied three months ago... with his graduation, the thought of seeing his younger sister, that crazy girl that he just couldn't understand no matter how hard he tried... He should have caught it, and later he would shake his head at how obvious it all was. But so it goes, and hindsight is always 20/20.
There he was. Ex-college student, his life in the trunk and back seat of his car, ready to move on from school and out into the real world. Unfortunately, the real world decided to start biting.
Being a film-major just made it all the more ironic that he did not see the zombie-apocalypse coming until he had to shoot one in the fucking head. Taste the irony--it's surprisingly similar to brains.
He revved the engine and busted out of Wilmington like a bat out of hell. His years of aimless night-time driving finally paid off, and he managed to avoid the larger snarls of traffic, where the brunt of the infection now focused its undead attentions. Every zombie and horror movie he had ever watched now came back to bit--haunt him. Stay away from main roads Stay away from big cities Aim for the head Don't get bit
So he cruised from Wilmington and aimed north-west, towards Illinois, where his family was, and prayed desperately for their safety.
After working his way around Asheville, Erik found something that maybe changed his objectives slightly. A few miles out, heading west towards the mountains, he saw someone walking away from an abandoned car. Someone who wasn't shambling Someone who wasn't rotting Someone who probably wouldn't try to tear into his flesh. Erik blinked, adjusted his sunglasses and looked again. Still there, still alive. He wove his small car around a big pileup so he could get a closer look. It was a girl. How old could she be? And where was she going? He made sure the sleeves of his black shirt were pulled down all the way and then rolled down the window. It wouldn't be safe to approach directly though. What if she was crazy? What if she was a zombie?
He pushed away his fears and called out to her when he got within earshot. "Hey, are you still alive?" In hindsight, he probably could have thought of something a bit more reassuring or wittier to say.
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Post by Katsuragi Panda on May 14, 2011 0:44:45 GMT -5
Several streams of sunlight trickled through the canopy overhead as Emil strolled through the woods. He liked the sun. He smiled as he let the warm light wash over him. Until a stray branch on his right side slapped him in the face, changing his smile into a rather confused grimace. He always forgot that he couldn't see on his right side very well because of the eyepatch. He picked himself off the ground and continued walking, holding his left hand to the new scratch above his right eye.
It had been about three or so days since he had found the now broken radio that had given his aimless wandering purpose. He had managed to stumble through the woods with minimal damage to his person, at least by his standards. He believed he might be going in the correct direction, but really, who could say? He certainly couldn't, and nobody else was around. He concluded that nobody could say he was right. Nobody could say he was wrong either, so he must be correct.
While he allowed his mind to wander thus, Emil forgot once again that he really should watch where he was going. He tumbled headfirst down the steep hill he had happened upon while in the midst of his musings. He landed face up at the bottom of the hill. One of his knives had gotten loose again, landing with its blade down a mere half inch from the left side of his head. That was lucky. He would have looked positively ridiculous if he had to wear an eyepatch on his left eye as well.
Dusting himself off, he looked up to see where it was he had landed. He was in a clearing, finally out of the woods he'd been in since he had gotten lost. Ahead he could see a large facility he assumed to be the prison he was seeking. It looked rather like a prison, so it was a good bet that it most likely was.
Emil wandered along the edge of the walls, circling the perimeter of the large building. Around the corner he found what appeared to be an entrance. Acting upon this suspicion, he pushed the doors. They swung open, admitting him to a rather dark, decidedly unpleasant little room. Emil had reached the prison. Or at least somewhere very much like one.
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Post by Serynn on May 16, 2011 14:46:45 GMT -5
Sera was startled slightly when she heard the voice. It was... unexpected, to say the least. She looked around and caught site of some guy... but it was a very welcome "some guy" at this moment. Even if he did have white hair... and looked slightly like a paedophile in those sunglasses.
"I am... alive. I assume. I mean, I don't know how it is to be a zombie, but... I'm babbling, arn't I? I'll just not bite you. Promise." She was probably talking too fast, but at the moment she didn't care. A live human! Imagine that. It had been too long.
"Where are you going? Where are you from? Have you seen many zombies? You arn't infected, are you? 'Cuz I'm not. If you're infected, stay over there. I don't want you dying on me then trying to eat me. It's not fun." She didn't let him get a word in edgewise, but then calmed down and stared at him for a little while. I guess you could say she was in shock. Or awe. Or some unnamed mixture of the two.
After a moment or two of staring the strange man down, she began to feel awkward. This was a strange male that she just assumed wanted to talk to her. She bit her lip. Who did she think she was?
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Hizumi
New Member
Cesar SALAD[/color][/size][/b]
Posts: 16
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Post by Hizumi on May 16, 2011 23:02:04 GMT -5
Vines once again was lost. After traveling for days on end through the highway, he was getting hungry. The whole time he was on the highway he saw no cars. He had nothing on him but the clothes on his back, and his fathers shotgun. He had about 7 bullets left inside his pockets. He figured at best he could defend himself from 5 more zombies due to his bad accuracy.
It was getting dark that day, yet he saw a bright light ahead of him. He heard a loud noise coming from the same direction. There seemed to be a large fire ahead, and those yells were triumphant screams. As he reached the crowd he felt a poke in the back of his head. "Is you alive?" asked a stranger. "Yes Yes! Please don't kill me!" responded Vines. All of a sudden more people appeared in front of him. "Leave him alone Wilson" yelled some of the men from group. The man Wilson put whatever was behind Vines head down. He went around and joined the people. Vines saw it was crossbow, and he was almost wore its bolt as a brain piercing. They told him they just killed some zombies earlier and are burning their bodies. Vines was glad he didn't join the zombies in the fire. He was asked by the men to join them for food and drink. Vines couldn't help but feel something was wrong though. If there was a big fire here, with lots of loud people, would'nt that attract attention from more zombies? He was right. As he sat down on a chair, chicken leg in hand about to be devoured, he heard shrieks. A large group of zombies, almost as many as there were in D.C. were coming towards them. "Damn it why now!" yelled Wilson. "This is the worst time! Our men is tired from earlier, and half of em are too drunk to even stand on their feet, let alone hold a rifle. Vines didnt know what to do. He however, decided to join the men about to go into battle. He had been given more bullets for his shotgun. He now had atleast 20 bullets he could use.
The sun was coming up. The zombies crept closer and closer. They were in range now. Some of the men started shooting zombies with very low effect. They were just wasting ammo shooting from so far away. Vines decided to charge them. He figured he could only hit their heads from up close. He stayed far enough to be safe and let out bullet after bullet into their skulls. He was down to his last bullet which he used on a zombie that got a little too close. He noticed that no matter how many zombies he brought down, they would just keep coming. He ran back to get more ammo. By the time he found more ammo for his shotgun, the zombies were already among the men. He didn't know what to do. He knew it was futile to try to fight them. He grabbed all he could including a rifle and extra ammo and ran into the woods. All he could hear now were constant screams from the group and chirping birds, which didn't mix very well. He ran for hours until he could'nt hear anything anymore. He didnt know where he was. It wasn't until he reached a clearing that he heard a sound. He heard someone. He hid behind a tree and noticed a figure rolling down a hill. He could'nt help but laugh quietly at their hilarious way of falling. He could'nt tell what this person was though. He thought this person might be friendly so he followed him. He didn't go long at all until he noticed a big facility ahead of him. The stranger walked around it until he found a door and went inside. Vines figured it was safe now to reveal himself so he ran in after him only to find a dark room. He could barely see so he yelled out to the stranger. "Hey! Mr. Clumsy! Where are you!?"
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Post by Aanonchan on May 17, 2011 4:38:20 GMT -5
The first thing Emil would have noticed when he entered the prison was the darkness. It was dim inside this particular room.
The second thing he would have noticed was what the darkness was screening. The armed guards.
They were armed to the teeth, absolutely covered in layers of protective clothing, and each one wore a mirrored riot mask. One was watching the perimeter cameras intently, and the others stood to welcome Emil with the barrels of their various fire-arms. All but one lowered their weapon after seeing the state the new survivor was in.
The one who didn't stepped forward. "Drop your weapon." A female voice barked from behind the riot mask. The guard tilted her head as she considered him, then leveled her pistol at his head with her left hand and unclipped a radio from her belt with the right. She paused before speaking into it. "We have another...survivor. We don't have much more time to barricade until the horde north of us gets here."
A voice crackled over the radio. Androgynous, but distinct, and obviously recognizable to anyone who had listened to the radio over the past month. It was Feather. "Wait for as long as you can, then take him up from the loading bay to quarantine."
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