Undead-Xbox
Hello!
You are not registered/logged in with our community yet, please enter your information into the required fields to continue your visit!

Forum is best viewed with Mozilla Firefox.

*Nom Nom Nom Nom Brainz*
Latest topics
» GAC Front Post [BACKUP]
23rd February 2014, 7:04 pm by eaustinn36

» Eaustinn's Xbox360 Minecraft Server - General Rules / Information
5th November 2013, 8:19 pm by eaustinn36

» Eaustinn's Guide to a better RP (GTA)
5th November 2013, 7:57 pm by eaustinn36

» Posting will be disabled April 15th 2013
2nd November 2013, 1:09 am by eaustinn36

» Brace for it...
14th April 2013, 6:06 pm by Made in Finland

» Day-z official topic
14th April 2013, 2:11 pm by eaustinn36

» Flask & the Quack Crew play browser games!
4th April 2013, 2:44 pm by Meatshield718

» E-HOLE LAUNCHING MIDNIGHT!
3rd April 2013, 8:53 am by KZ Powned

» The Walking Dead (General Thread)
3rd April 2013, 8:49 am by KZ Powned

» Derailed II: An off topic topic blah blah post your naked pictures here.
1st April 2013, 3:48 pm by Made in Finland

» Dead VideoGame Society (Current Game: e-hole.net)
31st March 2013, 11:33 pm by Super Mega King

» GTA 4 Zombies night?
31st March 2013, 10:01 am by snowwolf1996

News Feed

When shit really hits the fan.

Go down

When shit really hits the fan.

Post  Vashed1995 on 1st July 2010, 9:45 am

Introduction: You know of "one of those days" right? Well, I had one of those, but it went A LOT worse than "one of those days." More like.. Stuck in a dark closet, the door locked, people outside laughing as you try to open the door in panic with no end in sight. Yeah, it's like that times ten. Let me show you..

1:

A loud *CHING* echoes after the last blast of a Desert Eagle fires it round off into the lower neck of an infected individual. It falls to its ass, but hops back up as blood pumps out its neck.

"SHIT!" The man behind the gun calls out. By the way, my name is Kris Roklen.

Kris turns on his combat boots, giving one last glimpse at his downed, but now exploded into flames Helicopter that some asshole shotdown for some unknown reason. About halfway down, two pops above are heard over Kris. He looks up to be greeted by a hot, empty nine millimeter bullet hitting and bouncing off his face. The other lands in front of him, as three extra clicks are given away that this guy is out of ammo. He cries out as a infected couple tackle him off the roof, biting and gnawing at his flying persons, taking a crush to the hard asphalt. Kris cringes at the sound, puking a bit in his mouth.

"Ugh.. This is just getting too messy for me." As he forgot that about ten other infected shambled behind him.

He shakes the though away and continues down in fear, not wanting to end like that guy.The sirens posted around the islands blast with a constant wail, but barely breaking through the sound is his shoulder radio. And no, I'm not a damned cop, I'm a damned Chopper Pilot.. Anyway, two Helicopters soar over, probably the ones talking to whoever is in charge.

"Command, chopper 6921-A is down in grid-box E-41. Requesting permission for search and rescue for the pilot."

As soon as that ends, an old gentleman voice yells over the communicator as I dash my way to the right, still continuing through the alley's maze.

"NEGATIVE, GOD DAMN IT! We're sitting in a hell-hole in the inner city blockades and are pulling out. There's NO way I can risk another helicopter at the moment, ESPECIALLY one down near the hot zone. You pull back to Outer-Blockade B-7 and help secure that for my arrival. The inner-barricades are LOST."

I curse in my head at the loss, but it shoots out my ear due to the sirens blazing about like a damned fly. I've finally made it to the end of the ally way after getting over a blood covered car. With my quick movement, I was lucky as hell to direct the hordes idiotic mind to the left instead of the way I took. This gave me time for a quick break, nudging myself at the edge of the car bumper.

"One minute then get on the move."

That's all I thought, trying my best to keep all the blood, gore, and killing I saw before I was shot down. But I couldn't, and vomited another load onto the ground before me. I didn't hear over the vomit, but it was too late. A groan, followed by a loud roar broke and crawled through the already-broken glass. Giving me a good grasp of my shoulder, the infected man tugged at my jacket trying to get a good bite out of me. I felt around my area, grasping what felt like a small lead pipe, but rusted due to sitting in the rain and old. I worked to get my jacket off, squirming out of the beasts grasp and letting it have my jacket, looking up at me with rage. It didn't look for a second longer as I brought the lead pipe onto the infecteds' head, hearing the decayed crush upon the roof.

"I'll take my jacket back, thank yo--"

I stopped to vomit. I couldn't take all this gore, it was too much for me. Video Game gore made it fun, real life gore grossed me out. I finally recovered and put my jacket back on, took the lead pipe, and walked out twards the alleys exit.
[end of act 1]
=========================
First thing typed up, more to come. Hand over the feedback on what to tweek/improve and all that jazz.
avatar
Vashed1995
Thats right, limp away!

Posts : 271

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  DeadApe on 1st July 2010, 12:32 pm

Fun read. Some of the descriptions are weird like
"You know of "one of those days" right? Well, I had one of those, but it went A LOT worse than "one of those days." More like.. Stuck in a dark closet, the door locked, people outside laughing as you try to open the door in panic with no end in sight. Yeah, it's like that times ten. Let me show you," and
"curse in my head at the loss, but it shoots out my ear due to the sirens blazing about like a damned fly." and
"That's all I thought, trying my best to keep all the blood, gore, and killing I saw before I was shot down."

So I'd say just read it over next entry (if there is one) and see if you can change any weird descriptive language in there. Another thing, I am completely sick of origin stories, so I am actually glad that you jumped right into the action, but I guess some sort of explanation of what is happening would be good.


-Thanks for writing. Keep it up.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Podcast Zero"

Please listen to this podcast, regarding the new website/community that will be replacing UndeadXbox.
avatar
DeadApe
Master
Master

Posts : 6353

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  Vashed1995 on 1st July 2010, 12:51 pm

Yeah, I get what you're saying. Those just came out off the top of my head.
avatar
Vashed1995
Thats right, limp away!

Posts : 271

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  Vashed1995 on 1st July 2010, 2:08 pm

2:

After what I experienced in the alley way, hell, even in the last hour, was enough for me. The Infected had other plans though.. A bright light shined into my eyes as the sun sinks slowly under the buildings, signaling nightfall is slowly approaching. This street is actually empty, which surprised me due to the fact the whole city was a war zone. What remained on Borlock Rd. was abandoned cars, torn apart corpses and a cop car. My instincts told me to go straight to the car, which I did gladly. What I hoped to find were bullets, and even another gun. But, luck wasn't on my side today as the car had been totally raided.

"Damned looters running around here, what good the world would be if they weren't here.." As I cursed at my horrid luck.

A loud explosion stopped my train of though about looters and how they sucked so much. The blast was around the Star Junction area, maybe farther. I've heard of one of the blockades there, and decided to stick away from them and more along the coast in case a boat happened to drive by. No going near the infected for me.

So I began my trip to nowhere, I'd think of it as I went. The one main thing was running through my head and it's pretty much step one of any survival plan: Shelter. I've moved down the road, staying low and hugging the building's wall. Cars had crashed all over, leaving those for perfect cover also. I was halted about two blocks more, seeing what looked like two buses crashed through what looked like one of the inner-blockades. Gnawing and cries of pain echoed down the dead and empty street as myself slowly stepped himself into an office building.

"No way I'm going near the main feast, so this office will have to do with some form of shelter.." I thought quietly to myself.

Paper slowly wrinkled and cracked under my boots from the coat people left like they threw them up as if it was the last day of summer. The radio was dead silent, and I wasn't trying it until I knew I was alone and safe. My lead pipe was held close to me, scanning every desk and cubical I walked by. They ranged from blood soaked to completely clean like it hadn't been messed with in the chaos. But something moved in the cubical three down. I crouched real low as rustling and movement erupted into the main walkway. Something shuffled fast past me, but stopped right in front of me. I heard the infected sniff, and I slowly got up as quiet as my own self would let me. *CCCCCCRRRUUUUNNNCCCHHH* A paper that was under my boot, and the infected turned and pounced on top of me taking the milliseconds I had to prepare. The wrestle lasted for a good three minutes total, keeping my arm at his neck trying to keep the monster at bay. A couple of slams of each other into the soft walls and the desk, I finally got him down to the feet. Before he snagged a chunk of my leg, I pressed my two boots into his chest and send him across the walkway and into the next cubical with a smash. This gave me enough time to grab my weapon and ready for him. It gave a second of a howl before it was uppercutted in its jaw. Hearing the crunching and feeling the power of my swing, I knew the thing dropped dead when I heard it thump like a ragdoll.

"Damned thing.. This is not going to be a good day."

I scraped myself up and began down the rows of cubicals to the stairs. A low screech sounds through the stairwell as I enter and shut it quietly.

"Tenth floor.." I said to myself, counting the stories before moving in.

I didn't even get to the second floor before an infected busted through the third floor door and charged at me. My body froze and I couldn't move, so the infected tackled me down one flight of stairs. We both landed hard onto the tiled and concrete floor and wall, me dazed out. The infected man almost took a whole bite out of my chest when I heard a *WHACK* infront of the both of us. An office man stood there in a bloody shirt and tie combo, shaking to death. He dropped the aluminum bat he got from god knows where, maybe some sporting good store that was around here. He nodded to me before taking off in tears.

"H-hey.. Wai--" I couldn't finish the sentence as I dozed off into a unconscious state due to the smacking of my head against the wall. Before I finally went out, I hoped that I wouldn't get eaten because I just didn't have the strength to move, I hit the wall so hard.

All you can do is hope, that those things get me..
[end of act 2]

3:
[30 minutes before my helicopter went down]

"Hey! Kris, we need to go now! The inner-blockades need air support!" My buddy Jackson called from a catwalk above me.

His call woke me up from my power-nap I had before we moved in. I secured my weapon of choice, a Desert Eagle and a extra clip. We both jogged together to get suited up in our pilot uniform in the barracks. As we made it through the Headquarters to the Barracks, TV's and radios were buzzing and going off about "Disease" and "Infection."

"What a bunch of nonsense that'll be taken care of in a day" Jackson assured me, but I just shrugged at him and we continued on.

Our first view of the city form the base up in the mountains to the north. The city had pockets of black smoke and a skyscraper or two had the occasional fire burning from a window here and there. I wondered how something that was so peaceful just yesterday lead to this chaotic hell. Jackson and I nodded to each other, rushing over to our helicopter. I began starting the engine up while he got clearance to head out.

"This is chopper 6921-A heading to inner-city blockade T-7, requesting permission to take off and head out, over."

There was maybe a half a second of radio static before a voice blasted into our ears.

"Yes, you have clearance to move out 6921-A, move out and get there fast. Good hunting."

We both nodded to each other and I lifted off. Good hunting there will be, If we get back. A nice flight through the mountains and the forest were a nice, calming touch before the inevitable scenes of death we were expecting. The flight over the bay didn't last long as we hit the outskirts highways. The whole freeway, even entering the city by people not obeying the traffic laws and just wanting to get out, were gridlocked. Following the freeway inward, we hit probably the worst scene ever known to man. multitudes, and I mean multitudes, of infected people were 'Feasting' on the people, even trying to run after them and tackle them down just for a bite.

"Good lord.. What the hell caused this? Nothing on the radio said anything about the 'eating' the non-infected." Jackson said worriedly as he peered down the window.
"Who knows," i said,"Maybe the news is already eaten, heh.." Even though it wasn't a funning thing to laugh about.

We both soar into the city now, over inner-blockade T-7. LCPD NOOSE vans were spread all over, with a mix of police, military, and even WEAZEL news vans. None of the shooting seemed to cease as a constant horde of infected came at the blockade. But every infected they killed, three more replaced that one. The whole blockade began to crumble, even a newswoman climbed atop her van and signaled at us to land and save her, but it was too late as she was dragged down by an infected individual, followed by two, then six..

"Good god.. We need t--" A radio call-in from HQ halted his words.
"Chopper 6921-A, come in."
Jackson responded,"Go for HQ."
"We need you to move to inner-blockade S-4 in southern Algonquin, over."
"Yeah, we got you. Heading out." Jackson clicked in, as I re-routed twards that location.

"So, when we get out of here, what d--" *KABOOOOOOM*

Our whole tail exploded into flames, and we began to rotate around wildly. Jackson was out cold as the blast hit his side, multiple glass shards stabbed into his whole right side. I tried to radio in as best as I could.

"Mayday, mayday. This is chopper 6921-A going down by unknown force in grid-box E-41."

It was the last message I got before punching out, the screech of the ejector seat sending me across the road into the alley way I began my nightmare. Un-clipping my harness about eight feet from the ground, I landed with a thud. But when I looked up, a nice group of maybe twenty infected greeted me. My quickdraw was known back in the military school I went to, blasting away as much as I can, not thinking about my bullets, more of Jacksons death. I was hoping I could've saved him, but the helicopter exploded right before it hit the ground. The clips were getting empty, and the undead weren't halting. *CLING* as my last bullet shot at the lower neck of an infected individual.

"SHIT!" I called out as I turned on my heel to glimpse at Jacksons burnt body roll across the cockpit and hit the concrete with a thump, becoming the infecteds next meal I knew.

[end of act3]
============================
More to come. Feedback and comments.


avatar
Vashed1995
Thats right, limp away!

Posts : 271

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  AaUndeadMarine on 1st July 2010, 4:14 pm

I love it man..

keep writing
avatar
AaUndeadMarine
Cry Owes Me A Custom Title
Cry Owes Me A Custom Title

Posts : 1290

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  Vashed1995 on 2nd July 2010, 12:17 am

4:

A quiet yelp, followed by a deep breath breaks the silence of the office stairwell. Kris lies there motionless with his eyes barely open, peering down and up the steps in case any infected roamed. The left side of his face has a river of dried drool from his nightmare that he awoken from. His head pulsed in pain from his fall as he tries to recover and get to his feet. An infected man was across from him in the stairwell with its head crushed in with a bloodied up bat near its body. Kris had his memory of what happened slowly come back to him.

"I-I was... Saved by some scared off worker here. He smashed the infecteds brains in and left the bat. Then I went out." He thought to himself.

He hopped to his feet in a quiet motion like Roshak did in Watchmen, collecting the bat and leaving the lead pipe behind. The radio on his shoulder still remained quiet as he began to turn it up to get a voice out. Static and a voice cracked on and off in the small communicator.

"We-- Blocka-- Perimit--. Squa-- In." The unknown voice cracked quietly in the stairwell, going dead within' a few seconds.

Kris turned his communicator off, not wanting to bother with a transmission that wouldn't get recept-- Reception. The roof, Kris thought to go to, hopefully to get a signal off to any of the Military Personnel at the outer-blockades, or even a Helicopter.. His climb started at the second floor to the tenth, keeping his new weapon in a tight grip between his hands. Keeping a low and quiet walk, he made it to the door that the infected man busted through. What Kris saw was something hell conjured and put in this one office floor. A breeding ground lied as a huge obstacle to his goal, as he had to cross to the other-side of the stairwell to get to the roof. None of the infected was looking towards the general area of the exit, and for once luck was somewhat reaching out to this man who's had nothing but bad luck and a gun with no bullets. They all had their backs turned to him, focusing on their meal upon all the helpless office folk that didn't make it through the panic. Kris slowly scooted as quiet as his self would let him, and believe me, I was pushing my hardest to be quiet.

"Please god.. Please god.. Please god.."Kris thought before stepping out and across in a quick rotating fashion.

He hit the wall with barely any noise, just a very quiet 'swish' of his jacket grinding against the concrete walling. He shut his eyes as tight as he could, praying nothing came, and nothing did. All that was heard was the munching and gnawing on of what may be bones. RESCUE, Kris thought of and prayed for as he began his journey up the steps, moving as light as his body would let him. All the doors above him we're shut and locked as he tried to slowly open them. No dice, and he hoped for the roof access to open. He'd made it to maybe the sixth floor before a loud scream blasted through the stairwell. Several infected made their way from the second floor breeding ground, staring at me with dark, milky white eyes and blood tattered suits and secretary dresses. A roar that sounded like a stampede broke the staring contest towards the roof, and it was maybe twenty infected total. I started to tear up in fear, and broke into a sprint by going every other step towards the roof.

"SHIT, SHIT SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!" Was the only words that ran through my head and that,"PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HAVE THE ROOF DOOR OPEN!"

And by the time I reached the narrow corridor to get to the roof access, luck was still with me for a little bit. The door was opened and unlocked, but also locked from the inside with a thick, metal door. I made quick strafes down the corridor, getting into the door, and slamming it shut with a loud lock echoing up to the roof access. I've barely beat the infected to the door as one rode my ass and slammed into the concrete wall as soon as I shut it, recovering quick and beginning its attack on the door, followed by an extra pair of hands, and eventually ten others. Radio, roof, then break, I said to myself in a hushed whisper through my out of breath voice. After my climb up the two flights of stairs, I made it to the roof, only to be greeted by an inferno-filled night sky. Occasional gunshots and Sub-Machine Guns shot off in the distance as I locked the bolt on the metal door behind me.

"Screw the radio, they won't come out for me. The hot-zone is too close to here and there's no way they'd risk it, like that dickhead commanding officer said." Kris called out over the roof. "Just rest is all I need.. These doors can hold decayed hands, but I don't know how many hand they'll bring. Great, talking to myself.." He halted his words and flopped down onto the roof, snugging against one of those metal industrial air conditioners. The cold metal battled against the heat, which made him grin as he drifted into a deep sleep of exhaustion..
[end of act 4]
====================
Feedback and comments.
avatar
Vashed1995
Thats right, limp away!

Posts : 271

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  BLACK SNOW 13 on 2nd July 2010, 3:30 am

You sir, have made an interesting story. Keep it up.
avatar
BLACK SNOW 13
The Great and Powerful
The Great and Powerful

Posts : 4232

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  Vashed1995 on 2nd July 2010, 5:26 am

5:

The loud roaring of tires from a bus woke up Kris from his semi-relaxing sleep.He hopped up in a quick heartbeat, rushing as fast as he could to the edge of the buildings roof to see all the commotion. A single coach bus drove through the ruins of blood-covered cars and torn corpses, maybe a total of six people not including the driver firing off Glocks and Uzi's. The tires continued to try and grip the concrete, but it was no dice from them due to all the dead remains that lied in the road. Just down, maybe a block, the bus gave way. Ramping up a convertible, the truck turned to the right and flipped twice, making a crash that probably sounded all the way to the Star Junction. The survivors of the crash squirmed around in the truck as infected busted from doors, sprinted from alleys, and rushed from down the street. There were ten, thirty, fifty, eighty, Kris counted in his head. He turned his backs to them, hearing the screams and gunshots slowly stop one by one.

"God.. Why us?" Kris blurted out as he began to fight against the up-coming vomit in his throat.

That's when he held his arm to his stomach.

"Food.. I need food, and water." He said as he licked his dry and sore lips.

The heat wasn't as bad as it was before, but patches remained scattered around the city, gunshots still going off here and there. A fire escape was planted on the opposite of where he was on the roof. Going back down through the staircases was a no go. He couldn't risk contact with the infected. The fire escape was crude and worn, due to no use and not cared for. Doors were planted every other floor for access, he examined as he took his first step down, being extra cautious when near the exit doors. When he reached the fourth floor exit, about halfway down, an infected rushed through the office shadows and planted its bloody body, panting heavily. We both sat there staring at each other, realizing it wouldn't reach me. So it sat down, tilting its gaze towards mine. I got that whole Twilight Zone, freaked the fuck out kind of feeling, hopped up and continued down.

"That fucker had a crush on me, how cute.. Heh." I grunted as I reached the latter to the alley ground.

I began my climb down slowly, but the damned fire escape wouldn't stop screeching a bit each step I took. My boots planted into the ground hard, startling something behind the trash dump. Before I knew, a fucking ZOMBIE HOBO lunched out of some cardboard box house and tackled me into the brick wall, gripping my shoulders and throwing me to the ground. I was confused at the sudden attack and he got on me easily. The infected that were on the bus now moved up North in one big pack, leaving it empty in this part, for now. I'd gotten some distance by putting me feet to his chest and sending him into the wall, but my bat flew from my grasp and landed maybe ten feet from me. My gaze was focused on the bat and not him, and once again, he had the jump. I was tacked into the edge of the trash dump, moaning in pain. A bent edge stuck out, and stabbed me in my lower left back.

"DAMN YOU!" I yelled out as I pulled myself out of the metal chunk, tearing up in pain. I'd punch the bastard in his decayed forhead, the hobo knocked back into the wall and falling in a daze. I reached up for the ring in the latter, kept my boot at the back of its neck, and pulled down with all my might. The edge of the fire escape latter penetrated the infecteds skull, killing him on impact. My side still blead a bit, but not too bad that it was fatal. I checked the edge to see if i was rusted, and It was gladly not. My plan was to move down and hopefully find some type of gas station, just to get something in my stomach. So I collected my bat and left the only thing I could call Shelter, and step back into the warzone that was the Liberty City streets..
[end of act 5]
=============================
Feedback and comments.

avatar
Vashed1995
Thats right, limp away!

Posts : 271

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  Vashed1995 on 3rd July 2010, 2:35 am

Update:

Should I continue writing this story out? I've had another whole plot and character in mind and I don't feel this character moving as I think it really should. I 'unno though.
avatar
Vashed1995
Thats right, limp away!

Posts : 271

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  BLACK SNOW 13 on 3rd July 2010, 3:14 am

Your story man. But just to let it end like a crappy unfinished story.
avatar
BLACK SNOW 13
The Great and Powerful
The Great and Powerful

Posts : 4232

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  Vashed1995 on 3rd July 2010, 10:30 am

Screw it, I'll continue on. Writers Block broke an hour ago and I've got all my shit planned out.

6:

After Kris had his little struggle the night sky broke through the blackened inferno that hovered over the city. Some of the fires had died down from his view on the street, but replaced by the screams of infected packs dotted about. A bat and a Deagle with no ammo wasn't going to defend himself against an entire city of some thirty million people, you know. So, Kris once more began his journey to food and water. His knowledge of this city wasn't well known because he had just moved here about two weeks ago to the new base in the mountains. He'd only been into town maybe once or twice, but not even this deep. Only known as 'the city of opportunity' he'd pass in the streets, Kris found a three-fourths of a city that was mainly a dump with someone dead every night would be a opportunity of some sorts coming from Europe. But now, it's the best city on Earth if you're hoping to kill someone, or at least experience it. But hey, enough thought and more hunting.

Kris turned right out of the alley way, going the semi-opposite direction of the main infection horde and from the other packs as best he could, staying crouched low by cars and checking both ways like he was crossing the street. Except, he was crossing the street from the horde. Small infected jogged through or stumbled about heading north, probably to the main feast ground that made the Star Junction now. His clothes covered the waterfall of sweat that ran over his whole body, making his clothes sticky from all that came out of his body. He had dis-noted it awhile ago, not giving two shits due to him probably becoming a walking Meat-Popsicle of blood, guts, and corpses by the end of the day. Sweat just made him taste a bit sweeter for the infected..

An SUV laid turn to its side a quarter-block down from where he was crouched next to a WEAZEL News Van that was probably stuck in traffic before its passengers were pulled and devoured up. Bags that were placed above the vehicle spilled across the road, with the trunk window smashed, containing more goodies inside. I broke off from the van, jogging around the vehicular obstacles to the wreck. My shooken and bloodied hands un-zipped the first backpack I came to, and it was like a gift from god. Three bags of chips, two granola bars, two water bottles on each side, and one of those Rambo survival knifes with wire, fish hooks, and a needle and thread with a ball compass. I'd already dragged the bag over to me, resting up against the side of the SUV and beginning to enjoy my treat. Salted chips crunch around in my mouth, only to be washed away by gulps of water.

I then told myself to salvage these goods I found. My old knife was almost like this one, but didn't fit my jackets holder. So I threw that off and stuck this one with its holder on. I'd continued to search the vehicle, containing the dead bodies of a man, a woman, and three kids in the back seat. Tears caught up in my sight after seeing the children, thinking that why this had to happen to young kids. Something reflected in my sight that made me wipe the tears away, which was something that made my day turn into Cloud Nine. A Glock was in this mans front pocket on his jeans, sitting there just for me to get and me alone. He had a giant glass shard piercing through his head, so I wasn't worried if he would jump at me or anything. But his wife, however, barely looked hurt at all, only bitten. I looked back and digged around in his pocket. Not only did a Glock come, but also an extra magazine with it.

By then I turned my head to examine the reward I had reaped from the dead, but I had the dead staring at me. The woman had her head tern, eyes shot open with a mix of white and blood red, staring straight at me. She slowly crawled towards me, stepping over her rotting husband towards me. For once, that most infected that see a human scream at, she remained calm until I stumbled back. She'd busted her side door open and charged at me in her heels. The iron-sight aimed at her, but I dropped it to save my rounds. My bat crashed against her neck, sending the infected woman to the ground. Her staggering movement got her up to her feet, her head now a ragdoll over her mobile body. Another swing to the right of her head took her head off, sending it ten feet into another car. A quick twitches and a minute of recovering her body stopped its movements.

I had a gun now.
She had lost her own head.
I had food, water, and a backpack.
I had a chance of survival.
They lost theirs.

Maybe I wasn't going to die. Living in my glorious moment, I checked the radio on my shoulder. A repeated message came out of my radios end.

"--Mergency Military System. This is a recording. If you are alive in the greater Algonquin area, move towards the Liberty City Museum of History. If you make contact with the infected, you must sever the head from the rest of the spinal cord, or place a bullet into their head. These are not your family members or friends, and it is too late for them. You must do such an act if you are to make it to our survival stations, even if it's difficult. If you liv--"

I cut off the radio. The Museum was probably my only hope, and I had to get there somehow. Even if they were dead, maybe they had a helicopter on their roof and I could pilot my ass out. I'd reached the coastline by now. Finding a Gas Station nearby. My Glock was first through the back exit, scanning the small room before the other door went through the main store. Nothing seemed to be inside, and I listened as best I could through the door. It was quiet, not even a sound was in the store. I'd opened the door, finding nothing but a half empty store with no one inside. I'd snuck to the front, locking the from and back doors. My bed would be my own self behind the counter to avoid being seen. A couple hours of sleep and some snacking later, I'd get a move on. For now, I'll rest and plan my route, wherever this Museum was..
[end of act 6]
=================
Feedback and comments.






Last edited by Vashed1995 on 9th July 2010, 10:14 am; edited 1 time in total
avatar
Vashed1995
Thats right, limp away!

Posts : 271

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  oO Coggy Oo on 3rd July 2010, 11:08 am

Probably the best zombie story i've read definitely keep writing it Very Happy
avatar
oO Coggy Oo
Cry Owes Me A Custom Title
Cry Owes Me A Custom Title

Posts : 1406

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: When shit really hits the fan.

Post  Sponsored content


Sponsored content


Back to top Go down

Back to top


 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum