Realistic or Modern Patient Zero (A Zombie Survival RP)

[Corgi]

​

Owen was sure to keep her close to him, his hand cupped around hers as he led her back down the hallway and into a large living area. It was hard to see in the dim light from the windows, but there were large stains under his feet, crusty from age. The smell and other clues left little doubt in Owen’s mind that they were blood. The corpse that laid propped up against the loveseat showed whose.

The male stiffened, immediately pushing Aubrey further behind him and raising his bat. However, the body did not move. The ache that had settled in his chest since he figured out whose house they were going to deepened. It was a woman’s form, obviously thin despite the damage and rot the house had caused. With a shaking hand, Owen reached into his jacket pocket and produced his cellphone. It was useless for the most part, but at least the blue light from the screen was enough to illuminate the scene.

The long hair was stuck to the mushy face. The cold winter had helped slow the decay, but the damage was obvious. A bullet hole shone from the middle of the woman’s forehead, the dried dark ooze of coagulated blood down her nose. The eyes were still open, somehow even more void of life than the milky white eyes that he was sure had shone back in undeath. This girl’s heart had stopped beating long before she was shot. Hesitantly, the large man leaned down to get a better look. Aubrey was frozen behind him, muscles tense in anticipation as her eyes flickered from the woman to Owen.

“Is… Is it her?” Her meek voice barely squeezed through her vocal cords as she gazed past his form.

“No.” He spoke with confidence. “It’s not.” The relief in his voice was evident. Even with the degeneration, it was obvious it wasn’t Charlotte. It had been a while since he had seen her last, but he would recognize her. The hair was the right color, but the face was the wrong shape. Her body was thin like Charlotte’s was, but not the same. A quick check to the back shoulder assured him it was also missing the tattoo that he knew to be on the back of her shoulder.

“Definitely not,” he assured her.

Aubrey sharply exhaled, relief taking shape in the form of tears, but they didn’t spill this time. The day was getting increasingly longer with each fright she experienced. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take- Owen and Nile returning, Colt leaving, and now this- it was overwhelming and exhausting.

“In fact,” Owen continued. “This one was one of the dead things, and unless Charlotte’s goody-two-shoes husband got really good with guns really fast, this is Charlotte’s kill.” Confusion threaded Aubrey’s brows together once more.

“Charlotte was good with a gun?” She questioned, reflecting back to the days before she left. She could barely imagine her little sister, the angel of the family, holding a gun.

“She liked to brag she was,” he muttered, remembering all the times she had waved one in his face. “Not important,” he said remembering that Aubrey knew very little of Charlotte’s life once their parents had passed. “She was here and she was alive. See that?” He asked pointing to the abandoned bottle of wine on the table, no glass to be seen with it.

“I only know one person who drinks wine right from the bottle.” He was growing more excited, realizing that Charlotte had likely been here.

“She was here Aubrey,” he assured her. “And that means at least while she was here she was…” Owen was going to say ‘Alive’ but as his eyes scanned the rest of the house, his gaze landed on two piles of dirt in the yard. The view was clear enough through the sliding glass door. They weren’t exactly freshly dug, but fresh enough that they stood out against the grass of the lawn.

Aubrey followed his line of sight to the backyard, eyes falling on the ominous mounds. The idea of everything she’s worked towards being buried six feet under enveloped her mind, knees suddenly weakened under the weight of her thoughts. “Do you think…?” The tightness in her chest stopped her from finishing the sentence, and a part of her was glad. It would become far too real if she did.

He opened the door, his large palm pressed against the glass, and sliding it open. The chill of the fall air invaded the small house, but the smell of grass and nature was welcome compared to the scent of death that clung to the walls. There were only two graves. One was much smaller than the other, in fact, it looked more like the grave of a pet than a human. His thoughts went back to the nursery, unfortunately, he knew exactly who that grave belonged to. The only question was the larger one. It could be Charlotte, he supposed. But something told him that wasn’t the case. There was too much evidence of her life in the house. It could have been her husband too. His stomach turned.

There was really only one way to know for sure.

“Why don’t you stay inside Aubrey.”

Collab: Maj (Owen)

 

[Rumble Fish]

Stumbling to the front door, she saw him. A tall and athletically built horse prancing across the yard with his head raised and nostrils flared, carrying himself in a springy trot out of sheer excitement at being outside. His hooves kicked up a cloud of dust as he swung his head, throwing his back feet up with a playful squeal. He had to be a younger horse, maybe around five or six years old. He was ebony black but like an appaloosa, he had a blanket with spots along his rump and part of his back, along with three small dots on the outside of his front right leg. She was enthralled and halted with his naturally strong pace and agility. The horse ceased in his frolicking to turn and look towards her with a chuff through his nostrils, only just realising that she was there. His face was branded with two diamonds. A white one between his eyes and a pink one between his flared nostrils.

“What is it, son?” A voice called out, causing a twisted sense of anxiety in the veteran’s stomach. The same voice that had screamed threats as the owner had shot her from behind. Frozen due to her lack of her prosthetic, there was nothing she could do as the man came around the corner, a rope swinging lazily in his grip. As he turned to look at what had grabbed the horse’s attention, the pair froze. Instantly, her heart sank as she recognised him.

She had seen his picture in Sasha’s wallet, and the framed photo she used to keep next to her bunk. A stocky man with broad shoulders and salt and peppered hairs sprinkled throughout his dark and gingered beard. His large and calloused hand gripping the end of the horse’s rope shook in shock. His brows protruded above a pair of brown eyes, knitted together in disbelief and an inability to fathom what was in front of him. His jaw hung agar until he was able to form words. He swallowed and his head shook slightly as he gasped. Breathing heavily, she fought back the urge to swear and simply opted for the simplest response she had probably given anybody ever.

“Hello, Hank.”

“Christ Alive…” he breathed out, “Y-you’re awake. Thank God.” He chuckled awkwardly, wiping his brow with a tanned hand before clipping the end of the rope to the horse’s halter. He kept his eyes on the equine as opposed to the veteran leaning against his door frame. It was clear that he regretted shooting her. But now, she could not care. She just sighed, maybe he mistook her for a Thing, and she would not have blamed him if he had just shot her and left her for dead. Why couldn’t he have just done that?

“How long had I been out for?” She looked around, from the sky, she could tell it had been a long time. It had been twilight before, but now it seemed to be just before dusk. Had she been asleep for the last twenty-four hours? The man sighed gruffly and rubbed his hands against his denim jeans. It was hard to tell whether he was relieved or anxious that she had awoken. Maybe that was why he had disabled her.

“Longer than I’d like for you to be. I honestly thought you-” He shuffled on the spot, “Well, you’re awake now. That’s the main thing.”

She was stuck on what to think. On the one hand, she wanted to run into his arms and let it all out. Hank was alive! But on the other hand, her body shook as she could not contain the rage behind his actions in saving her life. Why could he not have just followed through on his actions and throw her in that hole next to the first grave? If she had the mental strength, she would have launched into a verbal lashing that, apparently, was the only thing she was good at doing. Never mind anything else. Before she could snarl a weak response, a snort from the equine distracted her as he shook his mane out before turning to glance at her with flickering ears.

“...Who is this?” She asked instead. Hank, seemingly surprised by her sudden interest, clicked his tongue and tugged the rope gently, allowing the horse to amble after him as he approached her. Despite her curiosity and question, she still moved further back through the door. She knew who Hank was, but being injured, starving and now disabled, her anxieties could not calm down. The approaching figure of the equine, however, had a calming effect on the veteran. As he approached, she put out a hand for him to sniff. Despite it being years, she still remembered some horse etiquette. The horse’s nostrils fluttered as he smelled her hand. His lack of panic or even concern was the invitation she needed to stroke him on the shoulder’ ensuring he knew that she was a friend, not a predator.

“This here is Arthur.” Hank chuckled, going into his pocket and pulling out a small chunk of carrot. The horse snuffled it out of his hand and he munched on the vegetable contently, quite happy with his treat. “He was bein’ trained to be a police mount but seems he wasn’t a good fit. Though, a bomb could go off and this feller won’t even bat an eye, would ya son?” he scratched behind Arthur’s ear, causing him to wiggle his muzzle in a display of enjoyment. The corner of the veteran’s mouth twitched in a partial smile but it was still barely visible to anyone. Still, she could not bring herself to be stony faced in Arthur’s presence.

“He’s real handsome.” She mumbled, scratching him on that sweet spot between his wither and shoulder, scratching her fingers in a rhythm. Arthur stretched his neck upward, satisfied with the grooming she was doing and before long, she could feel him craning his neck around and his velvet lips gently nibbling on her good shoulder, returning her gesture. Behind her, she could hear Hank chuckle.

“Well, you became fast friends. Got experience with horses?”

“Grew up with them.” Her eyes did not move from Arthur’s face as he then gently shoved his nose under her arm, inviting her to scratch him on the poll, her fingers ruffling his fine forelock that softly swept over his forehead. Her attention was entirely undivided. Hank chuckled again, but after a few moments, a melancholy air fell over the pair. The woman sighed, finally turning away to look at Hank. To think she was now standing in front of Hank Oberone, her father-in-law-to-be, it was almost as if she had actually pulled the trigger. Hank took a step closer, a hand out reached. On reflex she took a step back with a flinch. He must have seen her scars as he hesitated and his tanned face grew pale. The woman glanced away, face flushed with shame.

“Hm.” The man grunted bluntly, “You’ve been through hell, haven’t ye?” The bluntness of that question caught her off guard and she winced shamefully and found herself unable to answer. Did he expect one? After a few moments of silence, she finally spoke up, her voice still raspy from before.

“Um… Look, uh,” she rubbed the back of her neck, “I-I’m sorry for comin’ here I… If-if ye just give me my leg I’ll go.” Go where? Who the fuck knew anymore. Far enough away that a single gunshot would not alert anyone in a close proximity. At this, Hank’s posture went from awkward to one of paternal stubbornness.

“What, no!” He barked suddenly, “Listen, y’look hungry. And ya just woke up from basically bein’ in a fuckin’ coma. I cant let ya leave, not yet at least.” He took another step forward, to which the veteran hopped back. “Ya need a couple of meals in your belly and a good sleep, that’s what I’m thinking. What do you say?”

She did not know. She did not even know what to think. The woman sighed through her nose and looked towards the trees. Was that the screech of a Thing or simply a coyote she could hear there? Lowering her head, she puffed her cheeks.

“I dunno, Hank. I don’t wanna impose.”

“Pfft- Jane, you could never impose! You're basically-” He stopped himself and she saw a flash of pain in his eyes, which quickly flicked away as he continued, “Listen it’s not a trouble!”

“I uh… I’m a picky eater. Look, I’ll go get my leg-”

“Jane, listen to me, I’m sure there’s something-"

“No.”

“I got some soup, chicken, vegetables-”

“No no, no it’s fine, I've outstayed my welcome enough-”

“I got some bear too.” The mention of bear meat stopped her in her tracks. Hank seemed to notice this as he smiled, “Y’had it before?”

“Y-Yeah.” She answered with a stooped head, “It uh… it’s my favourite. My pa used to make this wild game brunswick stew with it. I know not many folk like it but… the way he made it made it good.” Her arms wrapped themselves around her rumbling stomach that hadn’t stopped since she had woken up and she was willing to assume Hank was aware, otherwise why else would he offer food?

“Oh? What did he put in it?” the man asked as he whistled a ditty while rummaging around his kitchen, almost as if he was talking to a close friend than an admitted stranger. The woman groaned, finding herself unable to stand for much longer, her head spinning from standing for this long and running on empty. Still, the thought of sitting down in this man’s house felt wrong. It took a moment of heavy breathing before she could answer.

“Um… he’d make it with bear, venison and rabbit. He just threw in whatever vegetables we had left.” The awkwardness of being in the man’s presence and the home of her lost lenore was too much. “L-Look uh-I don’t care about the food… I ju-I should go.” Sure, she hadn’t asked him for her leg back but still, it did not matter to her anymore. Maybe she could hop into a hoard of Things and allow them to rip her to pieces, or maybe she could go over a cliff. Asking for her gun would have just made him resistant. Besides, it was Sasha’s. If anyone should have it, it was Hank.

"Jane." She finally looked to him again, seeing a now pleading look in his rustic eyes, "Please." The vet's tired eyes looked to the faded and wooden floor. What the point in trying?

"...Fine." She finally allowed her sore body to flop back onto the sofa. What was one more worthless night to her? It'd be over before she got to see the next sun-rise. She knew that much.
Before anything else could be said, the clinking of glasses caught her attention and her stomach dropped as Hank was now approaching her with two tumblers of, what she assumed was some form of scotch or whisky. Anxiously, she gulped, "Uh I dunno about-"

“C’mon. When are we ever gonna see each other again after this?” He added as he handed her the tumbler. The veteran sighed and watched the honey coloured liquid swirl in the glass. For a few moments, she did not know what to do. She could not hand it back, her grip would not allow her to loosen it. Taking it would only validate everything the vet knew they thought about her. However, she hadn’t began following through with those evil urges and thoughts until now. The veteran sighed deeply, she just wanted this weight in her chest gone and these demons to stop gnawing at her. Perhaps with this, she’d either forget everything or it’d give her more of a backbone to do it. Besides, it was her definition. Right?

"Well... Cheers." and with a uniform clink, the veteran tilted her head back with closed eyes.

 

[shadowz1995]

PANIC AT THE LODGE!

Part 5

Milly's only saving grace was the fact the Venezuelan doctor had thought to disable the giant man's jaw structure in preparation for the turn. It only ended up cracking the top of the young lady's skull and knocked her unconscious. The infected aren't aware of whether their bodies are working properly or not and the fact that she went limp in his grasp was enough of an indicator. He tossed her aside like a dirty cloth and turned his attention to where the bullets had originated from. The mountain of infected muscle and rage tensed his legs and bursted forth in a mad sprint towards the neckbeard and his little RV. Both arms were raised in a guarded position to defend his head from the bullets.

Maria had to fight against every bone in her body wanted to rush David and try to take him down. Her fists clenched, her teeth tightly gritted. And yet, she held her ground. Even as his jaw clenched around her skull, she remained still. It would've been suicide.

As the zombie dashed towards the RV, she saw her chance and didn't waste anymore time. Dashing as fast as she could, the woman was quickly on top of Milly.

She was just about ready to bring her bat down, ensuring the poor girl wouldn't get back up as one of the dead when she noticed her breathing. Faint, but still there. The dead didn't breathe. For all the corpses she'd put down in the weeks since the outbreak started, she hadn't seen them breathe.

The girl was alive, but Maria wasn't about to take any chances. As she stood over Milly, her eyes scanned for any bite marks in her skull as the diary entries about Jack sprung to mind.

Her gut twisted as she saw the young girl's head was caked in blood, teeth marks embedded in her skull.

"No..." She muttered to herself.

There had been a little bit of hope in the woman, even as she'd watched the jaws close around her head, as she'd watched the girl tossed to the side that perhaps the girl would be okay.

She was still breathing, but for how long? Shutting her eyes and cursing under her breath, Maria reached for her knife and knelt down by Milly's side.

"I'm sorry, kid. I don't know if you can hear me. For yer sake, I hope not." Raising the knife above Milly's head, her hands started to shake violently. How long had it taken Jack to turn?

Too long.

The man had suffered. Taking in a few deep breaths, she readied the knife as she tried to stop her hands shaking. It was of little use. It still had to be done.

"God, forgive me..." She muttered to herself, her voice barely a whisper as Maria raised the knife once more and prepared to bring it down into Milly's forehead.

Her attempt to distract David did nothing.

Leliana could do nothing, absolutely nothing as she watched David grab Milly and raise her body to his teeth. The nurse had to look away, pressing her body closer to the wall as her eyes squeezed shut. And they didn't open again until she heard that monster charge past her. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, luckily not breaking the skin, she finally opened her eyes after a few seconds to find Milly's body. And Maria nearby.

Leliana now had two options, turn and help Michael and let Maria kill a child. Or stop the fighter and possibly lose Micheal who was almost certainly out of ammo. Her legs twitched, Leliana pushing off the wall as she hurried to Maria, drawing her gun.

"Put the goddamned knife down, " Leliana warned as she got closer, her brows furrowed as she knelt down though made it very obvious her trigger finger was ready.

"I know this looks bad." The nurse started, looking over the girl's head, "But she's still alive. Breathing. Even...even if she's been bitten."

It was a death sentence, right? A bite and you were done for?

But the other ones were all giant chunks, gnawing teeth tearing flesh. This...these were just indentions.

Milly maybe had a chance, right? Or at least...

"Hector would...you're going to bring her inside. Find something to restrain her hands, put something between her teeth. And then, go and check on the doctor downstairs," Leliana ordered, her voice stern as she stood and forced her gaze on Maria.

"And I swear to god, you kill her, and I will make you never come back." ​

 

[shadowz1995]

PANIC AT THE LODGE!

Part 6


Maria stopped, her gaze pointed forwards. She couldn't bring herself to even look at Milly, not even as she heard a gun trained on her.

"Ya really want this girl to come back as one of them?" She muttered, raising her hands "She's dead already, look at her." She hissed, a growl escaping her lips. What was the nurse expecting to happen? That they'd somehow come up with a cure in minutes? That somehow, unlike every other person who'd been bitten since the start Milly would turn out to be just fine?

Although she kept her hands raised in the air, her fists tightly clenched. Anger filled her, but she was able to hold her tongue, and her fists. It was hopeless, but of course someone who knew the girl, who'd cared for her before wouldn't see it that way.

When she'd sat in that office, Dr Lecter had told her about the stages of grief. It was one of the very few things that went in, mostly because it wasn't actually bullshit like every other word that escaped her lips.

Denial.

"Don't look at me, look at her." Her voice turned softer now, her eyes now facing Leliana "Don't tell me you can't see it. We both know what happens next...I've seen it, and I'm not gonna sit back and watch a child go through that."

Turning back to glare down at Milly, her hands still shaking she could do little more than sigh.

"She's gone, Leliana. Let me handle this. Now put down the gun before ya blow me head off."

"Hector needs live test subjects, " Leliana answered coldly, eyes switching between Maria, Milly, and the front yard. "If she turns, Hector can do whatever the hell he wants and try to forward the cure. But look at that. Those aren't bites. She could have a chance, and if she does, if she doesn't turn despite what happened, how do you not think that wouldn't help make a cure? Or at the very least, let us learn something more about what we can maybe survive?" Leliana added, holstering her gun, but not for the reason Maria may have thought.

Stooping low again, Leliana gently pulled Milly out of the way and up into her arms, wincing slightly for a second as she adjusted the girl's weight in her arms.

"If you won't do it, I will. You can go keep an eye on Micheal, maybe find a way to help him. I'll do my job." Shifting so Milly was resting against her chest, Leliana carefully began making her way to the back door of the lodge. Milly was unconscious. She was still alive, and from what she observed with Daisy, if Milly was infected, she could potentially have a few hours. But...as she mentioned to Maria, her idea to restrain the girl just in case, had not left her mind.

Maria was on her feet within seconds.

"You lot really are a bunch 'a sick fucks. I thought ya cared for the girl, but here ya are wantin' to use her as a lab rat!" She snapped, rage building behind her blue eyes. These people were no better than Simon and his lackeys, as far as she was concerned. Anything to find a cure, anything in the name of science. That was the way things were done at the university. And it seemed to be how they were done at the lodge She'd just hoped things would be different here. But perhaps Ralph really was just an incredibly poor judge of character. The man had trusted Simon after all. Even if Maria had to talk him into not unloading a bullet into his skull. She couldn't keep it in anymore as the anger boiled over.

Within moments, she dashed after the nurse, "Put her down, right now! I won't let you use her as a lab rat!"

Leliana had been close to the door, shifting Milly's weight again more to one side as she neared it, but paused when she heard Maria. She drew her pistol again, Milly having been on the opposite side, she managed to turn and point it at Maria before the other woman was on top of her.

"Keep your goddamned voice down!" Leliana warned chest heaving slightly. The other woman would probably notice by now the watery look in her eyes. The way Leliana was gently biting on the inside of her lip. Though maybe rage would blind that.

"I have accepted the fact that this...this kind of inhumanity is necessary for a cure." She started, still backing up to the door. "But you...you don't even want to give her a chance to live, how are you any better than the rest of us? This, this isn't a bite, this isn't like the other people who get infected. " Leliana's voice had cracked. "I don't want to do this. I care about Milly, I really do, she doesn't deserve any of this, but there...there are things in this new world we can't fucking help okay?" She said, voice raising for a second before she shook her head and managed to get some of her composure back.

"You saw what Dr. Friendly had out in the woods right? The infected tied to the tree? Hector wasn't the only one doing experiments here. And...and experiments sometimes cross the line of what we believe is ethical and just, but we have no goddamned choice." She paused. "See us as monsters if you want to, but...they...they have a job to do."

Maria didn't raise her hands this time, keeping them by her side as she stared the nurse down.

"She has teeth marks in her fuckin' skull." Maria scoffed "She's drenched in blood around the same area. It's a bite. You know it is. Stop lookin' at me, and look at her." She held her ground, not taking a single step forward or back. Her arms relaxed, her hands slowly raised in open palms as she took a deep breath. She wasn't going to be able to punch herself out of this one, so it was time for Dr. Friendly's method.

"What chance has she got? Tied up in some basement, crawling at anything that moves with her bottom jaw cut off. Even if there was a way to reverse this plague, that's no way to live. Especially not for a child."

She took one, slow step. "Ya know I'm right. I can tell ya don't really want her as a test subject. Is it not kinder for the weeian to just go quietly, instead of havin' some mad scientist poke and prode at her after this damn thing's taken her."

Shaking her head, Maria continued with a cold look in her eyes. "I've been killin' since day one. Not just infected but people too. I made a right feckin' mess of the university when Fisher and I found it crawlin' with bastards who were abducting people and forcin' 'em into lab rats to find a cure. Not people already bitten. They were...Infectin' 'em and watchin' 'em turn." Her stomach twisted as she saw the walls of the university once more, the inside of the room they'd tried to kill her in. A shiver went down her spine.
​

"Doctor Friendly...Feck it, Ralph...I know about that zombie, but here's the difference between him and the sick fucks at the university...He found that corpse. It was long dead. Burned to shite. He didn't infect some poor bastard and he sure as shit didn't find a little girl and watch 'er turn into one of those things."

With that, Maria stretched a hand out towards Leliana. "If ya care about her, like ya say...You'll let me do the right thing."

Noticing the gun shots going on outside, Luca took it as his chance to finally act. He descended from the top of that marble sink before tiptoeing out of the bathroom. The first thing he did was sling his rifle over his chest. Removed a cigarette from his pack and placed the filter between his lips. Then he walked out of the master bedroom. Hindered by his lack of conditioning and having been bedridden for quite some time, he slowly made his way to the window while observing the living room. The action was still outside. For the first time in what seemed to be years, the Italian had finally been experiencing some sort of resemblance of fear. It was easy to ignore the biological signs his body gave him in response to danger when he was too busy manually numbing himself of all emotion.

That being said, the lodge was not in a position for Luca to not act. That was apparent.

The man moved his hand from the window curtain, allowing it to fall back in place as he turned and made his way to the front door. He had opened it just in time to get a nice sight of Leli holding an injured little girl. Milly had been hurt as a result of Luca’s unwillingness to cooperate and the incompetence belonging to the rest of the lodge’s inhabitants. He eyed the two for a while, trying his best to bite his tongue. Luca even let the teen finish her train of thought before he decided that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for any longer. His teeth had been biting down on the filter of his cigarette, leaving a small indent in it as he made his presence known.

“Shut up and get inside. Now’s not the time for this.” He trusted that Leliana would make the right call if she needed to.

One hand gripped his rifle while the other brought his lighter’s flame up to his cigarette. He moved past the two, descending the steps at a normal pace. Luca continued forward a bit, until his back was against the woods in front of the lodge. After rounding the property slightly, he took notice of the zombie chad making his way to Michael’s van. The Italian planted his feet firmly into the dirt below. His hands were shaking; not as a result of fear, but rather his deteriorated condition. Even as he brought the scope up to his eye, he felt it’s full weight between his hands. There was no way he’d be able to properly control the recoil of his weapon even if he wanted to. That being said, it was as good of a day as any to die. He exhaled a large cloud of smoke before biting back down on his filter and pulling back the trigger of his rifle in bursts, pot-shooting at their reanimated enemy.​

 

[Maj]

​

November 22, 2018
1:23PM
Mannox Residence (Backyard)

It didn’t matter how cold the Colorado air was, after several minutes of shoveling frozen dirt, Owen could feel the sweat beading up at his hairline. With a breath, he stuck the shovel into the ground next to the grave and winced. His wounds were far better than they had been, but his chest still ached after too much movement. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, leaving it draped over one of the plastic lawn chairs that decorated Charlotte’s yard.

In his time, Owen had done all sorts of unspeakable things. He had threatened good, innocent people who had been duped into taking out payday loans from Bert and Ernie, he had knocked druggie heads together, and once in a while he was known to break into pharmacies and steal medication. Since the apocalypse had settled in, his rap sheet had done nothing but grow. Owen had taken down more human corpses than he could imagine in brutal fashion. He had stabbed his own mother’s corpse in the back of the head, he had shot a soldier who was coming after Ivan. However, all of that aside, he couldn’t shake the feeling that digging up someone’s grave was among the worst things he had ever done.

It had been filled with so much care. The world had changed so rapidly that there was barely time for burials anymore. Even the good people they knew and loved sometimes had to be left behind. His mind went back to his mother’s decaying body that laid on the hospital floor, forgotten. To take the time to bury your loved ones now was an act of compassion many couldn’t afford. His emerald eyes kept darting over to the tiny grave beside it. Whoever left this place with their life in tact, lost everything before they departed.

He knew that Aubrey wouldn’t be able to rest until she knew for sure if her sister was alive. However, he would be lying to himself if he said the same didn’t apply to him. It had been a few years since he and Charlotte last spoke, but they had been close once. Knowing that she was important to a person he was close to now only heightened the need. If she was alive out there somewhere, Owen needed to know.

So he kept digging.

The man felt the blisters start to form on his palms. His hands were calloused and hardened from a variety of hard tasks, but the wooden handle of the shovel was a far cry from the smooth handle of his bat. Even when they cracked and stung he kept at his work. The smell of death started to seep up through the soil and he knew that he was almost through. For being hand dug, the grave was surprisingly deep.

Owen pulled his shirt up over his nose as he continued his labor. The closer he got to the body, the stronger the scent became. Eventually, despite his best efforts Owen had to stop, bile coming up his throat as he gagged in reflex to the stench. There was little on his stomach when he retched near Charlotte’s privacy fence, but that didn’t stop the yellowish stomach acid from exiting his body and into the grass.

He shook some, both from exhaustion and nausea. The twin stood and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, trying not to breathe too deeply. So close to finishing his work, he tried to keep his mind from making up every terrible scenario that would cause him to find poor Charlotte Mannox in this grave. He flinched as he felt the blade of the shovel scrape against something soft and fleshy. Carefully he shuffled the dirt, not wanting to dig too deeply and disrupt the corpse more than he had to.

The head was uncovered first. It was hard to decide if it was male or female thanks to the shovel scarring the decaying flesh. Its hair was falling out and dark, but that could mean anything. He had seen Charlotte with blonde, brunette, and even blue hair at a point in her life, all in different lengths. With shaking hands, he did his best to keep moving the dirt without disrupting the corpse.

A suit and tie. Benjamin had always been the business type. The man was almost Owen’s polar opposite. He always worked hard in school and worked hard to stay on the straight and narrow despite the prevalent crime in Aurora. Owen’s eyes briefly glanced down to the gold wedding band around the man’s decaying hand. He felt numb. Both relieved to find it wasn’t Charlotte and saddened to know that not long ago she had been standing where he was now, using this same shovel to bury what family she had left.

With Aubrey living far away and her parents dead, Charlotte had worked hard to build herself a family from scratch. Now, if she was still alive out there, she was all alone again. Owen felt his throat tighten at the thought, and began replacing the dirt over his body.

He was dirt streaked and sweaty by the time he came back inside and found Aubrey. Exhausted, the male slumped in the nearest kitchen chair, his jacket in his lap and sighed. His cheeks were red from the cold, or maybe from strain. His eyes were red from lack of sleep and the tears that he had held back.

“It’s not her,” the redhead assured the blonde without looking away from the spot on the floor his eyes were now glued to.

“Charlotte is still alive.”


Interactions: Corgi

 

[shadowz1995]

PANIC AT THE LODGE!

Part 7


Leliana was silent for a minute. Probably not exactly a minute, but she didn't relax. She didn't lower her weapon, and the nurse definitely didn't hand Milly over. She just started the other woman down. This wasn't what she needed to be focusing on right now, and Leliana definitely knew that she would not let Milly be killed. Once she turned, she wouldn't be Milly anymore. But until that happened, if it happened, Leliana would fight to make sure Milly was able to hold onto that small chance.

"Maria, I understand what you're trying to do. I really do, and I understand why. But believe me when I tell you this. You are not touching one goddamned hair on this child's head. You don't have to understand why, but you can go ahead and fuck right off." She paused, looking to the unconscious girl in her arm before back to Maria. "If it's needed, I will be the one who ends it for her. Not some stranger." It was at that moment Luca had come outside.

Leliana has backed up to door all the way now, sidestepping enough so she could open it without putting Milly down. That was her original plan of course, but Luca having opened the door, it was much easier. She did, however, shut the door behind her. Maria needed to take the goddamned hit, Leliana wasn't budging on this. With that conviction, her destination was the cellar, Milly still unconscious in her arms as she descended the steps. The nurse glanced over her shoulder a few times, not putting it past Maria to try something. Anyway, as she reached the bottom, and took in the sight. The broken cabinet, Hector who Leliana wouldn't be to fully assess until she got closer.

The nurse turned and put Milly down on the far wall, taking whatever she could find first to restrain her legs, tying Milly's ankles and knees together. Once she was secure, at least unable to walk if she woke up and had turned, Leliana finally moved to check on Hector. And he didn't look like he was in amazing shape. But her amazing sleuth skills, aka her seeing the broken cabinet, she could make a small picture of what probably happened. But first thing first, she needed to check his pulse. Index and middle finger of her left hand pressed against the side of his throat, right on still clutching her pistol in case either he or Maria decided to make a move.

Maria had to once again fight with herself. Every instinct in her body wanted to dash after the nurse, even to tackle her to prevent Milly from becoming a lab rat. And yet, she couldn't. She remained at the top of the stairs to the basement, staring down. How good a shot was Leliana? Even if she wasn't trained, a lucky shot could prove fatal. Even if nothing vital was pierced, a shot to one of the knees would stop her in her tracks, meaning that if she were to be David's next target there was no chance of escape. The gunshot would no doubt draw him in.

Even still, she considered dashing for the basement and doing the right thing. A few swings of the bat or a stab through the side of the head would be all it took, and the girl wouldn't have to come back as a monster, one of the dead who had swept over Aurora.

There was nothing she could do for Milly, not at least without risking her own hide. As she clenched her fists and cursed under her breath enough times to make a sailor wince, Maria's gaze turned back towards the rest of the lodge. In front of her lay the remains of a person, clutching something in her hands. In all the commotion, she hadn't even noticed it at first.

Her blue eyes glanced down, seeing the tiny shape and all the woman could do was wince as she realized what it was.

"Probably better off kiddo. If ya got bit these sick fucks would'a just used ya as a lab rat anyway." She shook her head, tutting to herself as she planned her next move. The basement was suicide, taking David head on was suicide and as she played out the scenarios in her head, Maria stopped.

"Are these bastards really worth riskin' your life fer?" She muttered to herself. The woman still wore her backpack, most of her supplies still inside. If she wanted to, she could just leave. Leave the lodge and it's collection of mad scientists to deal with David. She wasn't one to back down from a fight, Shaw had taught her as much but he also told her to be smart.​

 

[Hyped_Taco]

Was it a fight she could win? No, the woman knew it was suicide. Was it a battle worth fighting to begin with? As Maria clutched the journal in hand, waiting for somebody else to decide for her she could do little more than sigh heavily. Fits, bats and knives were less than useless against the behemoth when he was actually alive and the bastard had dodged close range bullets, among other things.

Shaking her head and pocketing the journal, Maria reached into her jacket pocket and produced the letter labelled "Michael" If David was to wipe out the lodge, she should at least grant one of it's inhabitants a favour. If not for his sake, or even for Maria's but the woman had made a promise, after all.

She'd broken one promise already and was damned if another was about to go the same way. Finding Michael amongst the carnage would be difficult, but perhaps not impossible. Clutching it tightly in one hand, while wielding her bat in the other she took a peak outside to study the situation before making her next move. Michael was the overweight one, the sort who'd stick out like a sore thumb.
--------------
Once David managed to grab the girl by the hair, Michael knew it was over. With the monk's jaw coming down onto her head, and consequently, the sound of her skull cracking just cemented that fact to him.

But worst of all, with his entire gambit having failed tremendously, and with David having already taken the girl out, it didn't take a genius to know who the zombie would be targeting next.

With his shaking yet determined hands, the neckbeard managed to reload his depleted firearm by the time the monk tossed Milly away from himself. Michael had hoped that the zombie would have been attracted more to the sound of rocks being thrown at a shack than his Firearm, but due to obvious reasons that would not happen.

With David now rapidly advancing towards his position, Michael began to run back towards his RV. While he retreated back to the vehicle, the neckbeard looked over his shoulder and tried aiming at the infected's left knee. Michael fired three consecutive shots towards his direction, whether or not he actually managed to hit the bulk of a man was another thing.

He could feel the former monk begin to gain ground on him, if it wasn't due to the fact that the neckbeard had already gotten inside of the RV by then, then there was no doubt that he would have caught him soon.

Once inside, Michael wasted no time in enacting his previously thought escape plan. Yet before he jumped down the window, he quickly threw anything he could see at the door. Since Luca and Tree had decided to break the locks on the door, the zombie would without a doubt get in with ease.

Once he had thrown whatever he could in time during his state of panic, Michael quickly grabbed the Roasted Chicken he had left on the counter of his kitchen by its leg and as quietly as he could, escaped the RV by the window he had opened before.

After exiting the vehicle, Michael quickly got out of the sight of the window. Before he attempted to run for it, the neckbeard decided it would be better to try and hear the zombie enter the rv first, so that he could know if his plan had worked. Plus, if he attempted to escape while the zombie was still outside then it would be the equivalent of suicide.

 

[shadowz1995]

PANIC AT THE LODGE!

Part 8


The scientist's eye shot open as if struck by lightning at Leliana's touch. He groaned at first and let out a quick string of Spanish curses as he roused from his involuntary slumber.

He couldn't remember what exactly happened but even with blurred vision, he could take an educated guess.

"Maldita sea, I've never seen an infected turn so quickly."

Hector was under the impression that it took a minimum of half an hour for the change to start. That was the shortest recorded time he had. David was in moments after his death was confirmed.

The doctor groaned as he attempted to push himself to his feet. His dominant arm quickly collapsing under him. Broken perhaps. Possibly dislocated. He couldn't tell yet and with the sounds of the zombie being shot at, he doubted he had the time to figure it out.

The large man's vision swam and it was clear that his gaze was unfocused. Blood weeped lightly from his neck, head, back and shoulders but they weren't serious injuries.

"What happened to the girl?" Hector asked with a nod in Milly's direction. It seemed like she was restrained and he could only come to one conclusion, " Has she been contaminated?"

-----------------------

Luca's attempts to distract the zombie were met with empty air as the bullets whizzed by their intended target. It was difficult to hit a target moving a full sprint. This was without including the effects the former mafioso was under.

The fat man had better luck but not by much. His shots missed save for the last one that connected with the undead monk's thigh. Nowhere near enough to stop his juggernaut-style sprint.

With a resounding crash, the side of the RV caved in, its window blew out and very nearly sent the entire mobile structure on its side. The metal frame was bent in the shape of the behemoth and all the items inside were sent across the mobile home's floor. This included the neckbeard inside.

The sound of iron and steel groaning filled the ambience as the camper teetered back to its original position, only to land in the waiting hands of the zombified David.

With a colossal heave of strength, he hoisted the travel trailer off balance and tossed the entire structure on its side. The fat man within was tossed and earned some scrapes and bruises but was otherwise unharmed. Jostled, at best.

The mountain zombie then leapt up to where the window was and began to slam his hardened, meaty fists into the window frame. His attempts to force it open to consume the prey inside were horrifying but the frame held steady for now.

Keeping her gaze on Michael's movements, Maria's eyes watched as the man drew his gun on the zombified mountain, and fired. There was little time to run towards him, to even yell out that the large man was about to make a fatal mistake.

"Idiot." She muttered to herself "You fuckin' idiot..." With her head facing the ground, she stated at the envelope and could once more, do nothing but watch as David went in for the kill.

She wondered if, even in death the infected retained some part of who they were. She’d been told otherwise, that the corpse was little more than a carrier, a puppet for the plague... And yet, there was something about the way David's body was acting. The girl and now, Michael. It was almost as if he was enjoying it, just as he had enjoyed taking lives in life. Michael wouldn't last long, the mountain would break inside the RV soon enough and then he would meet the same fate as Milly and of the mother and child she had discovered.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, Maria headed back inside and set the letter down on the kitchen table. Tearing a page out of her notebook, she started to jot something down and left a note right next to the handheld radio from the university.

If any of you want to speak to the Doc, use this. He obviously sees something in you bastards that I don't[\i]

Her gaze moved to the battle outside once more. She had to pick her moment carefully if she was going to escape the woods alive.


----------------------------

Leliana tensed, her hand twitching as she almost moved to fire a round in the man's forehead when she heard him speak. The infected didn't have the ability to speak. She slumped back a little, a relieved sigh leaving her. He was injured, and it would have to be taken care of, but Leliana didn't have time for that. This was a quick "make sure the doc was alive" pit stop.

"Hey take it easy, " Leliana spoke, almost warning him as her hands moved to help him when he tried to sit up. Moving just a little, she did her best to gently sit him up, knowing that Hector didn't want to be a lump on the floor. Though her attention turned back to Milly for just a second when Hector mentioned her.

"I...I'm not sure. It wasn't a full bite, just his top teeth. I know the chances of her not being infected are...not good but we have to give her a chance right?" Leliana spoke, voice shaking for just a second before she shook her head. "She's just unconscious right now, he didn't kill her."

The nurse moved again, grabbing her pistol again after making sure he was steady.

"David is still attacking. Luca, Micheal, and Maria should be dealing with him...if Maria hasn't left, " She mumbled. "Micheal has probably used most, if not all of his ammo by now, so I'm going back up to help. Figured I'd make sure you're still alive, mission successful." She was rambling a bit, eyes moving between Hector and Milly.

"I'll be back soon with...I hope." There was no denying that this could be the end of everyone in the lodge and that the others would come back to nothing more than a glorified zombie happy meal. But Leliana wasn't planning on charging in and challenging the behemoth. With a quick sigh, the nurse made her way back upstairs, throwing a false to Maria as she passed. Leliana didn't trust her, but she needed to help Micheal and Luca.

Leliana slipped out the back door again, briefly checking to see how many rounds she had. 7 plus one in the chamber, that was more than enough for what she had planned. Leliana rounded the corner, able to see David attacking the now flipped camper. She had two options, try for a headshot but thanks to the way he was attacking that had a very slim chance of working. So, as Leliana took aim, she lined up her shot with David's knees. Even if he could ignore the pain of getting shot in the knees, he shouldn't be able to use them. At least, in theory. Leliana took a deep breath, lining up her shot the best she could, Leliana fired four times. Two shots for each knee, but the nurse didn't stick around to see if it had worked. Instead, she immediately ran back inside through the back door after squeezing the trigger that fourth time.

As the nurse passed her by, Maria's eyes followed. Every other lodge inhabitant had to be accounted for in the escape. If someone was to lead the Mountain inside, it would only be moments before David had her in his grasp. How long would it be before he tore her open? Ten seconds? Five? It wasn't a chance she was about to take. The sound of gunfire filled her ears, bringing her back to reality. As her head sharply turned, she noticed Leliana opening fire, likely to draw the monster away from Michael. With that one move, all hope of escape was dashed. David would soon target the lodge, breaking down it's doors and tearing the both of them apart. Maria refused to die. There had to still be a way out. Scanning frantically for an escape, her eyes were drawn to the staircase. With mere seconds to spare, she bolted upstairs. Keeping as much distance between herself and David was all that mattered now.

While all of this was happening, Milly was only now beginning to come round from her semi-coma. Instantly the young girl was overwhelmed with a sense of terror. The last thing she could remember before slipping into darkness was being pulled from the ground and an intense pain piercing her sensitive head. Everything ached, as if she had been thrown. Everything within her screamed for her to get back up and run. But as she tried to move, the youngster's fear was punctuated by dread as she felt herself unable to get up as her legs had been bound. Hot tears raced down her pale and dirty cheeks as her frightened whimpering quickly delved into open sobs, which, if not pacified soon would quickly develop into full on crying and screaming in vain for her mother. She struggled weakly against the restraints. Was the monster still here?!

“B-Beth? Leliana-?” She managed to gasp out between sobs, having given up on trying to get out of the restraints. All she wanted right now was her teddy bear and a hug.​

 

[Hyped_Taco]

Part 9​

Few moments after the tremendous crash that the RV in which the neckbeard was currently in, Michael had, along with every single other item not glued down to the vehicle, fallen down in a rather ungraceful matter.

Luckily for the neckbeard, he had crashed with one of the walls of the RV when he’d lost his footing, instead of on top of the kitchen drawers to his left. It had still hurt like a bitch since he’d had no time to cushion the fall beforehand. But overall, he was lucky enough to not have been hurt worse.

For a moment, everything seemed to go quiet while the vehicle began to teeter back to its original position. And before long Michael figured out the why. From the busted out window nearby, the neckbeard managed to catch a glance at the monk outside. The zombified David didn’t seem to be moving, as if it had something in its hands. Before long, the sound of metal being crushed as if it were being held by a man with death grip syndrome resounded nearby.

“Fuck”, Michael was barely able to say before David threw the camper on its side as if it were nothing.

Before the neckbeard had even had the chance to try and get up, he was already back to being sent across the floor of the vehicle again. The first one to two seconds after being thrown were actually not that bad, if the neckbeard were to ignore the fact that a near 7-foot tall hunk of a zombie was out to get him, and the incredible amounts of dread that it brought him, he would even go so far out to say that it was quite pleasant.

But as Newton once said: What goes up must come down. After being thrown by the now overturned vehicle, Michael ungracefully fell back first on top of the previously un-busted window, which was in front of the broken one by David; It sure wasn’t a good day for these windows.

Under normal circumstances, breaking a window would end with the person responsible for it with a few cuts themselves. Luckily for Michael, his trench coat ended up proving itself useful once more by protecting him from the now shattered window. Since the window now faced the ground, Michael was still stuck inside of the structure.

He was tired. For a moment he considered just laying in the ground, on top of the broken glass that cracked everytime he moved an inch and just resting there for a good while, while the rest of the lodgers fought this thing off.

Of course, the sight of the fucking thing leaping on top of the broken window and start to slam its fists on the frame of it, trying to hulk smash its way inside, changed Michael’s mind faster than his uncle had divorced his third wife back on 2016.

Slowly but surely getting up to avoid getting cut by the glass behind himself, Michael tried to evaluate the situation he was at and if he could think of any way out.

As of now, he had his katana, a firearm with 4 shots left, and a roasted chicken halfway across the floor. Maybe if he searched the RV he could find something useful. Yet he doubted the amount of things he could find since that frame would not last much longer, along with that asshole of Brian having taken so much shit in here before he left… can’t have shit in Aurora. So in total, Michael had not much to work with.

As of escape routes. The doors of the RV had been blocked or now layed upside down after the zombified monk pulled that little stunt of his. Plus, one window was blocked by the zombie of the hour, David itself, while the other was blocked by the ground. So unless he could dig his way out like a mole or with a spoon, then those options were discharged as well.

Other than that, the only way out could possibly be either through the drivers window or the back window of the vehicle. Of course, unlike their other two currently blocked cousins, these windows did not have the capacity of being open at will. So he would have to either shot them or break them by force. In this case, he could then attemp to run for it.

But Michael was not so stupid nor rash. If he attempted that, he would attract the attention of thee monk. And given that he had been able to catch Milly, a much, MUCH smaller target and faster at that, his odds of making it to the lodge were slim at best.
…
…
…

“...Shit”. His supplies inside the vehicle were limited. All escape routes were either blocked or carried too much risk. Plus, his weapons were on the verge of a non operational status.

In short, Michael was fucked. Absolutely fucked. And the worst part of it was that he knew it. Michael was mere moments away from giving up when a last ditch effort idea came to him. To try and fight the zombie and or hold his ground.

Currently he held the advantage in location. The RV would have been small for a man such as David while alive, it would probably be even more now for his more erratic, zombified and even stupider self. Plus, if he were to break in, then he would be forced to stand in front of Michael. If this were the case then the chances of his last remaining bullets hitting the damn thing went up.

If he went outside then he would be on David’s element. If Michael was to fight then he would force the enemy to fight were he held any kind of advantage, even by how small it may be.

Now that that was settled. Michael ran towards his “survival” backpack and grabbed the most dreaded thing he had in there, the one thing he hoped he wouldn’t need to grab once more… his glasses.

For the last month he had completely refused to wear them to avoid looking like a nerd to the rest of the lodgers. Plus, he wanted to appear “cooler”... not that it worked or anything really. But if there were was ever a more dire time to put his glasses on, then this was it.

The neckbeard grabbed a knife from the kitchen; possibly the one he had used to cut the chicken, and promptly ran towards the driver’s seat, the farthest away spot from the window frame there probably was.

Grabbing several cushions, chairs, and anything that he could possibly use to barricade himself from David’s advance once he finally managed to break that window frame.


Mike had four shots in total. One of them which he would probably use to shot the window behind himself to escape if the others 3 were to fail. In total he had 3, maybe 4 shots in total. All which he would aim towards that bastards head. Michael hoped that his defenses and bullets would be enough, cause if they weren’t… then may god have mercy on his soul.

 

[Rumble Fish]

Hank’s story had been a short yet sad one. While it escaped her mind now, talk of the loss of his own lady, taken mercifully through poor heath and not ripped cruelly at the claws of the damned swirled through her unstable mind. Soon Hank would fly to hopefully greener pastures, joining old friends far outside the hellish labyrinth that was Aurora in the hope he could spend however long his last may last with a sense of peace and normality. Something the veteran could only now see as a fantasy. Peace? Normality? What were they anymore? It upset the vet very little to hear this news. An Oberone had flown before. At least this bird would soar on his own decision. The woman spoke nothing more than the minimum, savouring his voice. The last voice she was going to hear tonight. Certainly tonight, for before the dawn’s first light, he would find the sofa empty, a melancholy note on the table and an open door. She would leave his loneliness unbroken. All evidence of her existence erased other than the fallen corpse sleeping against a pine trunk. None of this she spoke of.

After the hearty meal, fuelled by scotch and ethanol, the world span as the veteran drifted between the two worlds of awake and slumber; a destructive state to be in for even a sober and undisturbed soul. The once brown and red rafters holding up the floor, one sturdy like the society that had crumbled did just this. Spinnin towards her comatose form. With a squeak escaping her throat, she collided with the floor. The tables, stairs and relics of a happy home swirled and spun not unlike an abstract painting if it were being viewed through a kaleidoscope. Rubbing her eyes achieved nothing. With a groan in her bones, she forced herself upright, the universe swirling sickeningly as she reeled, grabbing the door frame for stability. Perhaps the fresh air of the late night could bathe her tottering thoughts in a cool and unpolluted shower, ridding her of the illness either physical or mental.

Successful in forcing the door, one foot stepped onto the cold and dew-dropped vert. The drum behind her ribs quickened in its playin. The world had taken on a purple hue, rings of gold, green and blinding tones sent sharp pains in either sides of her head. She blinked rapidly, as this would rid her of the pain. However, rather than clear the world and bring it to a level of familiarity, more shapes formed from the ground with every blink. Black, tall and with vacant windows without a soul, but, rather than strike fear into the veteran, it beguiled her depressive verklempt into curiosity. There was a velvet, wild softness to them. How they moved, almost sailing. She took a step closer, whether it be the crunch of cold ground or simply an aura, they turned, their empty but soft optics looking into her own soul, as if lamenting the lack of their own and feeling a desire to feel the warmth of a human sense. But with a benevolence, wishing, wanting but not pursuing. It was her that took the steps towards them, hand out in front blinded by the drink and the perpetual hurricane that tore its destructive rampage through the plains of thought and logical reasoning, sending them underground for cover.

The closer she came, the more the ghostly figures took a more familiar form. A flurry of blondes, reds and brunettes, their soft radiance sending a warmth down her spine. An inviting shine drew her in like a moth seeking refuge in the light, to escape the foreboding and perpetual darkness that followed her tracks both behind and ahead. There was a desire, a pull for that warmth. The security and softness of their touch and understanding. The absolution of everything foul to both her own and onto others. Was this what was to come? Once it had been done, and once the roscoe hit the grass, she’d join them in a realm of blissful radiance and freedom of earthy pain.

But suddenly, the closer she was drawn, the world shifted once more, tipped on its side like it were the plaything of a higher being, sending the veteran to the wet ground, her eyes now turned upward. The great oaks towering swirled and morphed into the hell valley sky trees, long limbs stretching down towards her. And the beings, once soft and benevolent, turned to maleficence. Their once eyes, once empty but radiating an understanding and warmth, turned to ebony with nothing but white pricks. Their soft curves sharpened to become angular branch-like. Ghastly, grim and gnashing teeth sprouted from their once gentle mouths and long limbs stretched, not out of an invitation but a desperation to snatch. The veteran was muted. Mouth open, vocals vibrating and the warm air within her escaping into cold and winter night; there was no sound. No sound, no cry for help, she was alone. They were quicker now, and while her own voice remained paralyzed, their hellish screams rose into the empty sky, clawing the ground in their fury and bloodlust.

Nothing had provoked the turn, nothing but her approach. A façade? The veteran’s throat was burnt from trying to cry, despite nothing heard. Whether she be mute or the world deaf, she’d be unspoken or unheard. Any attempt to run sent her to the ground, the world throwing her down again and again. Incapable of finding her land legs. The kaleidoscope span and through the tornado of a sickening rainbow, another figure stepped from the shadow. Large, bellowing and furious, its’ eyes blazed as she felt herself being snatched from the earth, the back of her head gripped in it’s powerful paw. It’s red head screaming unintelligible yowls, a tone sending the veteran back through her time. Every word that tore the tender fabric of emotion and worth; ending with those uttered by the being now gripping her scalp.

Before she could even fathom what this world had turn into, the bellowing form forced her forward, head forced down into a rush of freeze and the inability to inhale without the painful sting of something un-akin to air filling her sinuses. The primal subconscious desired air. But against the upward pulling of the gripping fist, she forced her head to remain. Whether it be to ascend above or fall below, either meant more than to remain a second longer. It was dark. It was cold. Soon, it would be over...

Mentions: Maj (Owen very veeeeeeeery indirectly)

 

[shadowz1995]

PANIC AT THE LODGE!
Part 10


After firing off a few rounds and missing most of his shots, Luca dropped the rifle from its previous position. The man was agitated by the fact that he hadn’t been quite as accurate as he was able to, his muscles continuously aching as he rested the weapon by his hip. In the meanwhile the large zombie had flipped the RV on its side and was trying its best to get to the juicy, full center of the tootsie roll that had been contained inside. A lot had happened seemingly in an instant. Between whats-her-face turning tail and running for her life like the scum that she was, or the little girl who had to deal with the consequences of receiving assistance that was far-from-accurate, there had only been Luca and Michael outside left to combat the weeb trash that had reanimated.

With his free hand he removed the cigarette from his lips. Smoke billowed from his nostrils, his thumb and middle fingers grasping hold of the filter while his index tapped against it twice. This forced the ash to drop to the dirt below his feet.

“Hey, fatass.”

The man casually let off a loud burp, lifting a palm to nonchalantly wave the smell from his face. Meanwhile, the sound of a firearm going off drew Luca back to reality. Turning his head to the source of the sound saw Leli standing some ways off. She was putting on a brave face and trying her best. This made the Italian slightly nervous. In the likely case that the zombie broke open the human pinata that was waiting to be claimed inside of the vehicle, and then got past Luca, she would undoubtedly be next given her position. Now, it seemed as though the zombie was completely uninterested in the Italian. Hell, if someone was shooting at the ex-capo and missing in such a marvelous manner, he would probably ignore them just as hard.

'Why are you back out here?' He thought to himself as he watched the girl continue to fire her weapon in hopes it would turn the tides of battle. 'Leave to save yourself, or go get some help…'

“Hey fatass.” Luca repeated once more, turning his head back to the camper which had been in the process of getting demolished. “Maybe, uh, like, get me something to hit this asshole with or get out of the camper.” He mockingly spoke with the same cadence as Michael did, in hopes that it would piss him off. Who had time for jokes before being eaten alive, anyway? Apparently only one sick fuck.

“Explosives…” The Italian mumbled as he surveyed the immediate surrounding area. He could shoot the RV’s gas tank and force it to explode, but given its proximity to the house as well as Michael being inside, this seemed like a last-case option. In the case that zombie made it inside of the camper this would be an acceptable strategy, considering Michael was already dead. For now, the asshole that was actually dead happened to be so stupid that it couldn’t figure out how to get inside. Luca shrugged and lifted his rifle back up to eye-level, aiming as best he could before pulling back the trigger once more.
​

Bullets ripped into zombie mountain's flesh and actually causing the behemoth pause. It brought a massive, muscular arm up to guard its head from damage but to no avail. The combined efforts of the nurse and mafioso paid off. Luca's rifle rounds punched through the zombie's forearm and took a piece of his skull with it. A small chunk of David's forehead was now exposed brain matter. The smaller man actually managed to hit a bit of the frontal lobe but unfortunately, the infected didn't really use that section of brain for function. Leliana's shots took the monster's weight out from under him for a brief moment. This caused his right knee to buckle and he collapsed onto it.


This moment of reprieve was short lived as the large infected stood once more with an entirely new target. The lodge and the survivors within it. Starting with Luca. He jumped off the ruined travel home and hit the ground running, his arms raised to protect his head from further damage. The knee injury seemingly did not slow him down as the undead do not feel pain. More damage would be needed before the entire leg was deemed completely disabled and it wasn't going to wait around for that to happen

----------------------​

Her heart was racing as she shut the back door behind her. Who knows if those shots, intended to take out David's knees, landed. Who knows if whatever Michael and Luca were doing was actually working. Leliana wasn't a religious person. But in this moment, she was definitely praying to whatever may be out there that they all get through this. A new sound captured her attention though, a familiar voice in a familiar situation...Milly had woken up. As much of a relief it was to know the girl hadn't passed away in her sleep, this was not the best time to be dealing with this. There were really only three people who could help deal with this beast. But one of them had disappeared, obviously given up like some of the others they had unfortunately met. Michael wasn't entirely useless, but honestly, his chances we're getting slimmer and slimmer by the second. It was actually why she ran out to help, if David couldn't move, either he or Luca could finish him off. But once again, she had other things to deal with. Previously, David had been drawn to the sound of Milly's terror, and the nurse feared it would be a similar case this time if something wasn't done.

Hurried footsteps hit the stairs as she descended with a pillow, glancing at Hector for a moment or two before her attention was split between the door and Milly.

"Hey hey, I'm right here, " She spoke gently, loud enough for the girl to hear but softly. "I know this is scary. Here, hug this." The pillow she grabbed was from the couch, Leliana unable to find the small stuffed bear Milly had, but this would at least give her something to hug and cry into.

"You have to keep these on, for now, I know you don't want to, but it's gonna be okay. I promise." The nurse gave Milly a warm smile, glancing up at the stairs for a second, before looking back at the girl.

"That monster is still here, so we need to be quiet, alright? Watch me, copy what I do." With that, Leliana inhaled deeply, a little exaggerated too so Milly could hear her, before exhaling slowly. She wasn't sure if this trick would work, but when she was a kid, it's something her grandmother would do. It worked sometimes, gave little Leli something to focus on, and it would continue for however long it needed to. In this case, Leliana hoped Milly calmed down sooner rather than later.

"Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

The second the cushion was in her grip, Milly hugged it so hard her knuckles were quickly white. Even with Leliana's reassurance, the shaking persisted, both from fear and the immense pain racing through her small body.

"I-Is it coming back?" she spluttered, which was answered within seconds as the nurse told her that no the monster was still here. With a muffled whimper she buried her face into the pillow, but quickly turned her attention back to Leli as she started a breathing exercise with her.

Miss Honey used to do this with her whenever she was bullied at school, she stared at the nurse, her breathing still hurried and harsh, but after a few seconds, she felt it begin to slow down, but with the knowledge that the monster that was once David was still afoot stopped her from calming down completely.

Milly let out a long groan and looked over the pillow, "Everything hurts," she managed to squeak out at the lowest possible volume she could, tears still flowing free "You're not going to leave, are you?" The thought of being alone after all of this was too frightening for the youngster to consider.

The injured Latino glanced between the two young ladies and shook his head disapprovingly. Ultimately, he didn't comment on the fact but Leliana taking the time to calm Milly down was time lost that could be better spent dealing with the threat in the lodge's vicinity. Hector didn't have a knack for watching children be killed but if he had to choose between Leli and Milly, he would choose Leliana every time. She was far more valuable. Cold, ruthless calculus is what was going to get them through this escapade.

That didn't mean the nursing school student was wrong. Morally, it was the correct choice. There was just never much room in Hector's heart for such things.

"I'm going to go assist upstairs." He said through gritted teeth. He rose with a harsh grunt of pain and somehow managed to limp his way up the stairs. It was once he was there that the sound of David's fist meeting metal entered his ears. Hector quickly looked around for something to use and his eyes laid on the monk's preferred weapon of choice. His shooting arm was toasted but strength remained in the other arm. The problem was his vision was heavily blurred and shooting straight was going to be an issue. Swinging a melee weapon on the other hand, may prove easier...​

 

[shadowz1995]

PANIC AT THE LODGE!
Part 11



Leliana noticed him shake his head. Whatever the doctor may think, having a child sobbing uncontrollably was no way to ensure their safety. And Milly deserved at least a small comfort. But as the Hispanic started making his way upstairs, her focus very quickly shifted. She had to make a choice, one that would be easier if Beth were here too, but she had to do it. Blue eyes focused on the kid again, concern heavy in her brows but the rest of her face held a soft expression.

"Milly, I know it's scary, but I have to go upstairs and help them okay?" She spoke, looking over at the stairs as the doctor managed to trudge up them. "I need you to stay down here and be quiet okay? Don't move, think you'll be able to do that?" She asked, brushing a few strands of hair from the girl's face.

Milly's sobbing had subsided at this point, but as Leliana came back and saying that she would need to leave to help people above, they very nearly started again. But before the floodgates were opened, what the nurse said next froze her. Her mind flashed back to when her mother had said those exact words before leaving her alone in the dark and disgusting toilets to find help, where all she could do was curl up in the corner and shut out the sounds of carnage, death and destruction as it all blew up around her. But... the door closing was the last she had seen of Eleanor. Instantly, she wanted to beg the nurse no to go, but before she could even get a word out, she had left. Breathing heavily into the pillow, it took everything in her to not scream. All she could do was use the thankfully tried and tested method she would turn to in times of distress, though this time it was so silent she could only hear herself in her own head.

"We'll be back really soon, I promise." And with that, the nurse rose to her feet, and follow the doctor upstairs.

Maria's eyes watched as a few hits struck the zombie, his brain now on display. A few weeks ago and the woman would've been throwing up her breakfast but times were different. Her eyes quickly moved to the ground floor next watching as the remaining members of the group prepared themselves. If David were to breach the front door, how much time would each of them buy her? The Pirate Doctor had David's weapon in hand as he limped around the ground floor. While he'd been in one piece, apart from his missing eye, no doubt he'd actually managed to take down David.

A mountain capable of dodging bullets. How would the one-eyed man's aim hold up now? All he needed was one shot to the skull, but David was quick. Every instinct running through the woman's skull was screaming at her to run, to head for the windows and head back to the Church. It had been a stupid idea to begin with. If she'd just stayed behind, there would've been no encounter with the stalker, no guns pointed at her...No Simon.

It wasn't due to care. The people, the ones trusted by an idiot Scientist were of little difference, if any at all to those who had followed Simon at the university. Dying for them certainly wasn't worth it.

But if David ploughed his way through the lodge, killing every soul in sight he would soon depart in search of further sport. There was no holding back, not for the dead but to the giant corpse, every kill was an achievement, he wasn't even stopping to feed. Milly and the remains of a young woman, smeared across the floor of the lodge were a testament to that.

"Shite. Shite." She muttered under her breath, turning away from the stairs and slowly approaching the Pirate, her hands raised. He had made a promise, after all.

"The cu**'s brain's fuckin' stickin' out. I'd say all ya need is one good shot. If ya can still manage it, ya may need an openin'. Not willin' to throw my arse away, but I can certainly give ya that."

Putting her life in the hands of a stranger, let alone one who had nearly taken her head off still gave the woman a better chance of survival than letting David roam free.

"You're both crazy." Leliana snapped quietly, brows furrowed as her attention was focused on the doctor. "I'm almost certain you have a concussion, and if he focuses on you, there is no way in hell you're getting away."

He was going to get himself killed, and Leliana couldn't let that happen. She then focused on Maria. Or would have if she hadn't noticed the thunderous footsteps heading for the lodge.

"Crap."

That thing wasn't paying attention to Micheal anymore. Which meant if he could get out, they'd have an extra hand to help them. It didn't matter how useless he had been in the past, maybe he would pull through. Micheal would most likely describe it as coming in clutch.

"We need to get outside, if he comes in we're all dead. I think my shots landed, so one of his knees is weak. If we can somehow manage to get it out from under him, we might be able to bring him down long enough to kill him, " She explained, taking no time to usher both of them to the back door. As injured as Hector was, Leliana knew he wouldn't want to sit still. Or just go back in the basement...though if he made that choice, that would be even better. She could at least make an attempt to keep an eye on him.

"I have four rounds left, and one extra clip, but there's only six in that one," The nurse explained, looking behind her. Maybe Luca would get lucky. Or maybe they'd just have another body to bury.

As the nurse ushered the kickboxer and the doctor out, Hector couldn't help but steal a glance at Maria after what she had said coming down the stairs. A bullet through the head would end the zombie one way or another. If a portion of the skull was missing or not doesn't really change anything unless his skull had hardened for some unknown reason.

However, judging by Leliana's alleged injuring potshot, that doesn't seem to be the case.

Hector used the monk's sword as a crutch to assist in his walking. The thundering footsteps got close enough that when the old doctor turned around to look, all he saw was the italian mobster's body get sent flying through the front window. The sound of shattered glass hitting wood filled the cabin followed by the audible crunch and thud of Luca's form hitting the extinguished fireplace. Judging by the groan of pain and lack of blood splatter, Hector made the quick judgement call that his life wasn't in immediate danger.

The reason? Luca had some broken ribs perhaps but primarily because the colossal zombie's milky eyes now locked onto the trio trying to scurry out of the door.

He lifted his Berretta and fired off a few shots that went wide to get the beast's attention off of Luca and onto them.

"GO!" The doctor yelled as he hobbled out the door with David's attention now fully on them. Hector's aiming arm was dislocated. There was no doubt of that now judging by how he could barely lift the gun past waist level.

They were now out in the open where they had something of an advantage in numbers at least. This was their only chance to bring the undead titan down. They wouldn't be able to outrun him or outlast him. It was do or die.

"Spread out!" Hector ordered. "I'll keep his attention! I'm bigger and can take more of a beating! When he comes for me, take him down!" The scientist yelled. He grabbed David's firearm from his waist and tossed it as close to Maria's feet as he could manage. She didn't appear to have a gun so it would increase their chances of survival if she did. Even if he didn't trust her and had an inkling that she was looking for a way to escape earlier.

The large medic's body shook from the effort it took to lift his own handgun towards the entrance that David now came barreling out of. A terrifying, blood curdling bellow of a roar erupted from the massive infected's chest. It's clear the damage he had taken had only pissed the demon off. His arms came up in an orthodox boxer's stance to protect his damaged head before surging forward with murderous intent.

That was when Hector made good on his word to be a distraction by emptying the mag in his direction, only achieving a few useless gut shots but succeeding in attracting his attention. The doctor pulled the sword free from its scabbard and with his functioning arm, held it in front of him at chest level. With any luck, David would impale himself on it an sever his own spine... but that was a shot in the dark at best.​

 

[Hyped_Taco]

Panic at the lodge
Part 12

The body of another resident at the lodge being tossed through the window caught Maria by surprise, almost causing her to jump. She had no idea who the man was, but was at least grateful to see that he was still breathing. The hulking form of the beast brought her attention back and as the Doctor tossed a pistol to her feet, all she could do was stare at it, albeit for a split second.

How was he to know she had next to no experience with firearms? All she could do was watch as the monster dashed forwards. Any shot fired, given the speed he was running at stood a high chance of hitting the one-eyed Doctor. It was more likely it would miss the two entirely, dealing damage to the fine walls of the lodge but there was always that risk.

However, once the mountain had torn his way through the Doctor, she would be next. Taking in a deep breath, she lined the pistol up as best as she could. After uttering a quiet prayer, she squeezed the trigger.

Leliana felt her heart jump when the sound of shattering glass filled the air behind then. Luca must have been thrown through the window, but she wasn't going to turn around and find out. Hector fired off a few shots to draw the behemoth's attention, something Leliana wasn't a huge fan of but if they could save Luca, Andy would be less likely to kill them over the lodge getting wrecked. The doctor didn't have to tell Leliana twice, the nurse hurting out the door after making sure Hector had gotten outside. Spreading out was the obvious choice, and as much as she didn't want to let Hector go by himself and take David's attention, it was their best shot.

After all, he was injured... she and Maria still had a chance to get away.

Leliana immediately unholstered her pistol, not for a second even wondering if Maria knew how to use the gun Hector tossed her. She moved back, waiting for the behemoth to follow them out, the roar tearing through her ears, a weird pressure in the back of her head due to the volume. She wasn't frozen for long though, waiting until the giant had it's back to her and Maria, Leliana aimed down and emptied the remaining rounds to hopefully disable the knee she had hit earlier.

Leliana then backed up a bit, pulling free the are clip she had to reload, knowing that meant she only had ten rounds left, she quickly circled to one side getting a different angle to fire from. This time she aimed for the head and pulled the trigger three times.

 

[shadowz1995]

PANIC AT THE LODGE!
Part 13

With his finger now finally at the trigger of his gun, Michael cocked his gun. Standing behind the flipped seat of the RV and quite possibly the shittiest barricade ever, the neckbeard, right now sweating profoundly and scared shitless of what was to come, tried to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable moment in which the window frame would break, finally ceding to the seemingly unstoppable assault of the infected. Fact of the matter is that no matter how much he tried to prepare himself for the moment, the sound of the continuous hardened slams the zombie threw at the frame was simply too much to take for the man.


Growing ever more anxious by the moment, Michael considered using the escape plan he had planned beforehand. Yet once more decided not to. To stay and fight inside of the RV would be less risky than trying to run outside in the open terrain, where the zombie held the advantage on both physical and stamina power.

With the speed that his heart was currently racing as, Michael thought that he would have a heart attack. Which admittedly, was still a better way to go than whatever the zombie would do to him if he were to be caught by it.

Michael, putting his finger on top of the trigger of the gun he held, cocked his gun and shakily pointed in front of himself. Waiting for the moment in which the zombie would finally break into the RV.

Yet nothing at all happened. In fact even the pounding on the frame had stopped. He had heard 2 gunshots before, yet he had discarded the idea of it even having scratched the infected. Could it really be possible that the other survivors had managed to kill the monk while he basically served as human bait for the damned thing to remain still?. it that was the case, then it was fucking cold, he thought.

It wasn’t long before he saw from afar the frame on top of the RV. The zombie had seemingly frozen for a second, before turning around to jump off the vehicle. And while he could not see him run towards the house, the man could faintly hear through the broken windows the sound of rapid footsteps becoming even fainter while the zombie headed away from the RV.

Once again, he was safe… for now.

Once more his plan seemed to have failed. Yet at least it had kept him from trying to escape outside and get himself immediately killed, so at least it had been more successful than the first one. Now that the zombie wasn’t onto him, he could try to wait it out, as per his original plan. But quickly realized that if he did that, then chances were that the thing would simply return for him at a later time. And running away was even less of an option, for it would end either with him being chased by the zombified monk after he had dealt with the rest of the lodgers or with him being exiled from the group if they did manage to beat the thing.

“...motherfucker” Michael said after realizing what he would have to do next. Which was to get his ass outside and help with the fight directly again. Taking his gun out, the neckbeard enacted his previously thought out escape plan. He firmly pointed at the window and opened fire. While the driver’s window had previously been sturdy enough to withstand the force of being thrown upside down. The window broke into thousands of tiny pieces once the bullet reached it. Now being the point of no return, Schmidt stepped outside of the RV.

From afar Michael could see the zombie approaching the front door of the lodge. He still needed to get inside of the lodge to try and get a better weapon, or to at least get a bit more vital seconds desperately needed by everyone else as well. The front door could be broken down easily by the sheer brute force of the infected. Michael adjusted his glasses and decided to take a gamble. Quite possibly the dumbest, most dangerous, and possibly outright suicidal thing he could do as per the moment.

“Come get me you son of a bitch!” Michael said while beginning to make a run for it with everything he had to the closest window to the right side of the lodge. If that wasn’t enough to distract the thing, the man fired a shot towards the direction of the infected, with luck maybe even hitting him. Now it all came down to if it had managed to work and speed. If he had successfully grabbed the zombified monk’s attention then all he had to do was to try and beat the damn thing to the window.
​

 

[shadowz1995]

PANIC AT THE LODGE!
Part 14

The guns the ladies held barked their fury out, spewing hot lead towards Hector's would be assailant. Leliana's shots hit their mark and caused a stumble in the beast's advance but not enough to stop him completely. The nurse's attempted kill shots were met with the behemoth's arms as they guarded his skull from further damage.

Still, Hector remained the zombie's target and with the trajectory of his charge, he would have impaled himself with the doc's extended sword and paralyzed himself from the waist down. However, a hot bullet ripped through the older gentleman's thigh that caused his stance to waiver. The Hispanic scientist yelled a spanish curse out of pain and shock.

Maria's shot had flown wide and struck the doctor's leg. A result of overcompensating for David's charge. It was fortunate that she had only pulled the trigger once.

The former monk did indeed impale himself but nothing important was struck. At least, nothing important for the infected. The blade was buried to the hilt and did nothing to stop the coming attack. The monster known as David grabbed Hector's skull in one meaty, muscled hand and the other grabbed gripped his throat.

The infected's grip squeezed like a vice of death and one could hear the doctor's bones crackling and creaking under the pressure being exerted on it. Hector's only saving grace was the fact that he had so much dense muscle to protect him. Otherwise, his neck would have been snapped instantly.

That being said, blood was starting to pour from the Hispanic's mouth, nose, and eyes from the force of David's grip. No sound escaped other than garbled, agonized breaths.

-----------------------------------

Michael kept on running as if his life depended on it; cause in his mind, after shooting at the former monk from afar to distract him, it completely did. Yet while he did so, he noticed a lack of noise from the infected chasing him down. Taking a moment to look back, the neckbeard noticed that David had completely ignored him and continued his charge towards the lodge. It seemed that his attempt to distract the beast had failed, yet the only thing he lamented at the moment was that he had shot at it while attempting so, meaning that one of his last few remaining bullets had gone to waste.

The idea of turning around and trying again did cross his mind. Yet Michael decided against it for the simple fact that since the other one had failed, it would not only be a waste of time to do so again but even more dangerous than before. For if it were to succeed now, then he would have less space between himself and the infected to run away.

He did not stop running, even while being out of breath until he had reached one of the windows on the left side of the lodge. The fact that he had not had a heart attack from all the movement he had done today might have been due to the adrenaline running through his body.

Once he had finally reached the window, the neckbeard felt the intense urge to simply take a moment to catch his breath, yet the situation required his absolute everything out of him, so he continued. Michael began opening the window when a gunshot was heard from inside the building. Against what reason would tell him, he squeezed himself through the frame and ran towards where he had heard the shot come from.

The image that followed was less than pleasant to look at. He could see both Leliana and… a girl whom he had never seen before standing the farthest from the infected, with the girl whom he did not know pointing a gun at the infected, possibly being the one from where the sound had come from. For some reason, she was neither loading the gun nor shooting at the thing with the entire magazine of the thing. That was weird, perhaps the gun had jammed?.

Other than both girls, one of the windows was busted, like if something had been thrown out of it. But worst of all; Hector was now under the grasp of David. With both his head and neck firmly being hold by the monk. And even from afar, he could hear the man’s bones cracking. The fact that his neck had not been broken in half yet could be considered a miracle by now.

Michael unholstered his gun and quickly approached both the Latino and the infected. He pointed his gun, and after making sure that he would not be hitting Hector by accident; since any shots from this close, and with the state he was at, could be lethal to the man. After making sure of it, Michael fired his last 2 remaining shots towards the infected.

Michael's shots landed in the neck respectively. Normally, this would not be enough to attract the behemoth's attention but he was in the process of finishing off a threat. The damage was enough to cause him to whirl around towards his newest attacker and bellow his opposition. A sound only the infected were capable of making.

It was in that moment that his vice-like grip on Hector weakened and the doctor did not let that miniscule opportunity slip by. With a broken war cry, the doctor slammed his knee into the handle that jutted out from David's chest. Even without looking, the older man could remember exactly where the sword was embedded.

He struck the handle to the left, causing the blade to cut right within the undead's torso. The momentum from simply striking the blade wouldn't cause much damage but it was just enough to nick the monster's spine. While light, damage to the nervous system was, ironically, fatal to the infected. It caused the mountain man to fall to his knees with a guttural groan.

One of David's mammoth hand's let go of Hector to try and catch his weight from under him. The old man's knee shot out again, catching David in the nose and shattering it.

Naturally, the doctor knew that wouldn't do much in the way of damage but the hope was that should he die here, the infected's olfactory senses would be fucked enough to not be able to efficiently track the remaining survivors. Provided they remained quiet, of course.

With a grunt of effort, Hector brought his foot down from his second knee strike onto the sword's hand guard. He knew Michael was behind him even though he couldn't see him. He was the only other conscious survivor in the lodge with a gun. It took the doc's last remaining vestiges of strength to kick the blade free from David's chest and to the neckbeard's feet.

"Finish it.." he called weakly, knowing no one would be able to hear his order. His larynx and trachea were damaged and the doc couldn't tell how badly. It was agonizing to breathe or speak. The taste of blood overwhelmed his senses as the black started to take over the remaining half of his vision.

Mere moments after he had shot the zombified monk with his last few bullets, panic immediately began to spread on Michael. His last 2 shots, his last opportunity to kill the infected had landed an inch, maybe even less than that away from any vital areas of the bastard’s brain. And with that, it seemed like his last chances to kill it were now gone.

Of course, he could attempt to charge at the thing and whack it to death with his now empty gun, or even use the knife he had grabbed at the RV previously on the thing. Yet both, even if successful at killing the infected instead of getting himself killed, would take far too long to save Hector in time. Truthfully, Michael started feeling hopeless in the situation.

His feelings of hopelessness, panic, and generally being scared shitless definitely did not go down with the sudden whirl of the monk and the sound it made. The neckbeard knew that that meant he had finally gotten the zombie’s attention. After David finished Latino off, then more than likely he would lunge at him too. After everything he had done today; after giving it his all, he still had failed at killing the monk. The thing had taken two full magazines worth of ammo without breaking a sweat, and foolishly he had believed he had hold a chance.

Michael then had his feeling of complete despair interrupted by Hector’s broken war cry. With his attention now on Hector, the neckbeard noticed how the doctor, with a hard slam of his knee, thrusted the sword deep into David’s chest. Somehow with this attack, Hector managed to make the infected collapse onto himself.

With what seemed to be the man’s last strength, he kicked the sword out of the infected and up to Michael. The neckbeard could not understand what Hector attempted to say. Yet, his intentions were obvious.

Picking the sword up as fast as he could. Michael’s mind had never been more clean and sure of what to do. He charged right to where the infected was as fast as possible, not stopping until he was right in front of him.

David was on his knees due to the way he had collapsed, and while the infected was in that position, its neck clearly showed. Knowing that the infected would not remain like that for long, Michael brought the katana as high as he could, preparing himself to finally finish this threat to not only him, but to everyone around him. And with the greatest amount of force he had ever pulled in his life, swung the katana down onto David’s exposed neck, and cut the beast’s head clean off.

The monster's grip loosened and the doctor plopped alongside the limp corpse that was once David. His decapitated head rolled to Michael's feet and all Hector could manage was a minimal nod of approval which caused agony to shoot through his body.

It was finally over.

Now, it was just a matter of cleaning up the filth.​

 

[The Mad Queen]

Maria Kennedy: Aftermath​

She could only gaze, wide-eyed as her bullet ripped into Hector. Given her total lack of experience she was hoping that it would glance off and strike a wall but no, it did not seem as though luck was on her side or on the side of the lodge in general.
"Ah, fuck."

Maria was at least thankful that it hadn't been a fatal blow. Dashing in was suicide yet as she wasted time planning her next move, Michael finished the body off. Within seconds she walked towards the head, seeing it's eyes still moving slightly as it let out a groan and brought her foot down upon the forehead. Again and again and again till she caved in the skull and there was little left of David.

With the remains driven into the floor, her tunnel vision, her rage at the creature wore off and she looked around the room. Not only was Hector in a bad way, but she was surrounded by strangers. Strangers who had to have seen her shoot him. It had been a total accident, of course but given her run ins with both Doctor and Nurse there was no way that would be believed.

Rage quickly turned to panic. She had to get out before things took a turn for the worse. She'd already taken the liberty of filling her rucksack with the few supplies she'd given over, with nothing being taken from the actual lodge's stock. Maria did not want them coming after her over stolen goods, they already had enough reason to put her down.

Before she darted for the exit, her eyes turned to Michael. He fitted Ralph's description perfectly and although she wondered how one could remain so overweight, given the circumstances it wasn't all that important. Reaching into her coat, she withdrew the letter and handed it to him.
"This is fer you. It's from an old friend. Oh, and there's a radio in the kitchen. Use that if ya need to contact Ralph."

With her promises fulfilled, she headed for the back door and hoped that everyone would be too distracted by an injured Hector to notice.

Interactions: Michael Hyped_Taco
Mentioned and nearby: Hector shadowz1995 and Leli FireMaiden

Extra:

Spoiler: Letter to Michael

Not sure whether to call you Michael or Randy for this letter, but I suppose Michael works better. It's not like you've used my handle while we've been in person, is it? You know, I was worried that my warning hadn't gotten out in time, that the blackout had cut off communications and I was talking to dead air. I guess you helped me realise that, stopped me from falling into a pit. To be honest, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Cut off from my work, it's something I've had plenty of time to do.

I can't exactly recall how long you were following me before this, but I know it's been a while. The odd shout-out, your name flashing on the screen next to so many others but even so I never lied. In all the videos I made, every single person watching mattered to me, they mattered a lot. I guess you telling me the truth wasn't the first time you'd pulled me out of a pit. For that, I'm grateful. Always will be.

Now here's the hard part. By the time you read this, I won't be at the lodge anymore. I was given information by another (former) resident on the people behind the attacks and I've also been living in Aurora for what feels like years now. I'm gathering evidence and telling the world what's happening here, because there's a slim chance that'll get things to stop. And a blackout isn't going to stop the virus.
I guess I need to thank you again because you told me exactly how to get out. I mean, you could've told me sooner but back then I wouldn't have what I do now: Classified intel.

I do hope we meet each other again when this is over. Either on the other side of a screen or even in person. To be honest, I'm not sure how to end this letter because the moment I put down this pen and seal the envelope, I'm gone. I know that what I'm doing is the right thing, but that doesn't make it any less hard.
Just try to look after yourself, and keep your head down. This will all be over soon.

Until the next time.
-PurpleNoodle.

 

[Rumble Fish]

After a few hard thumps, the veteran finally felt precious air fill her waterlogged lungs, spitting up the final drops, but she could not do anything other than pant on her knees. She stared at the grass and she could hear the Owen-Thing huffing and puffing as he paced back and forth. Finally, a rough pair of hands gripped her shoulders, yanking her to her feet. Her head still hung from the toxicity of fatigue, inebriation and a near drowning. She did look at him. And the longer her eyes laid upon him, the faux image of Owen fizzled away like ashes in the wind and in his place stood a furious Hank. With a groan, her head hung again.

“Excuse the shit outta my French, Jane,” the man growled in the dark, “But what in the blue fuck is going on?!” She could only cough as she tried to speak, “Y’tryin’ to lure every fuckin’ biter in Colorado to us!? What the fuck did ya…?” His furious tirade was cut short like a guillotine the longer he looked at her. She could not answer him. She could not even bring herself to look the man in the eye. Why hadn’t he just done it? His expression melted into one of paternal worry. Wordlessly, he picked her up by the arm, slinging it over his own shoulder and half led, half carried the still unresponsive veteran into the house. As they walked, a nicker caught her attention, briefly bringing her back into the world of the living. Arthur had stuck his head out of his stall window, ears up and alert. Had he heard all of that?

The warmth of the fire hit her like a hot bath as Hank lowered her into one of the squashy armchairs. With a groan, he lowered himself into the other one. “Okay, darlin’ okay…” he breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat closer, “Why dontcha tell me what’s goin’ on?” Her fingers drummed anxiously on the arm-rest before taking the decanter from the side table and filling her glass. Hank did not stop her.

“How much?” She grumbled sharply.

“Everything. I want to know everything.” Seems he knew he could get that information out of her, otherwise why would he say that? Taking a long drink from the glass, the veteran growled.

“...Okay.”

~~~​

It took some time. But eventually, everything had been relayed to Hank. From the first day at the school to her attempt in the woods, just prior to being shot in the shoulder by the man in front of her. He did not speak, but she watched his expressions shift in regards to her words. When she was finally done, there was a pause. And then he spoke, quietly and creaking the door open.

“There’s something I need to ask.”

“What?” She refused to look away from the dancing fire.

“Well, what he- Owen was it- said? Do you believe he’s right-?”

“Of course!” A hand clasped against her clammy forehead in disbelief, “Of course! He’s right! Everything he said was right! I’m not denying it, okay?! None of it was news to me! I know I’m a piece of shit, because I AM that piece of shit! How the fuck couldn’t I!? I don’t need them to tell me! I! KNOW!”

Hank blew through his teeth and averted his gaze, seemingly realising the extent of what he had just uncapped in the woman. “It seems that you’re down a hole-”

“They dug the fucking hole!” The glass slammed against the squishy arm-rest, spilling some whisky over the crystal edges, “And! Threw! Me! In! It!”

“Well-”

“So I’m fucked! They fucking made me be in charge and now it’s suddenly ‘oh you’re not responsible for us!’ What?! The!? Fuck!? What the fuck am I supposed to do!?”

Hank’s eyes followed the veteran as she paced furiously in front of the fire, huffing like a bull but also clearly on the brink of collapse. After a moment, he sighed deeply.

“So. You’re in charge of them-”

"...I was in charge. For a while... but well, not anymore. Guess once they learned what I am, that was it." She glanced at her leathery and scarred hand, dispising what she saw and instantly going to take another sip but realised the glass was empty, "Shit- See this is what I'm on about!" Hank did not respond, "No fucking wonder I'm not in their little loop. Why would I be? I wouldn't want me to lead either, I... I'm not who I was in Carrying Atlas. And I hate it. We got attacked a few weeks back, on Memorial Day and... I couldn't take it. Three days I was out of the game. Can only imagine what was said about me at that time. Probably that I'm just some worthless drunk, who can't control her own fucking emotions so why the fuck should she be in charge of anything!? Well they aren't wrong but what the fuck can I do?! Ain't like I matter! Ain't like I'm 'special', or-or I’m trying to make it a dick measuring contest so should just shut the fuck up and not even fucking try to open up! Cause when I try people couldn’t give too fucks! When did I ever fucking say I was special!? When did I ever say that? WHEN? All I tried to say was I hate myself and what I've done but will keep fighting! And now… I can’t even do that! I am NOT Jane! I am NOT the fucking woman they want me to be, or think I should be! Jane fuckin' died back there in that tank! Jane would've never let this shit get to her, she would've shook 'em up and got 'em on their feet! Take charge and keep them going! But... she's dead. And I’m just the worthless fuckin’ corpse that got left behind and is somehow walking but clearly isn’t fucking good enough for ANYTHING!"

There was a long silence as the pair sat, the veteran panting heavily and body shaking from the explosion that had just transpired, with only the grandfather’s clock’s chime for company. Hank seemed to be lost for words, not that she could blame him. She sighed heavily. “Sorry. I, I’ll just-” she started to get up. Regardless of the time, it was too awkward. However, as she reached the door, she was paused by four words.

“So who are you?” Her hand slipped down the door at the question as she turned to look at him with one eye.

“What?”

“If you’re not Jane, then who are you?” Another long silence fell as she grappled for an answer. Her green eyes looked to the floor before her gaze glided back to the fire.

“I’m nothing.” Hank did not speak, he only watched as she stumbled back into the chair, tear-threatened eyes staring right into the flames licking the logs. Hank grunted and glanced away from her. “I’m not a soldier, not a leader, not a woman…Not anything.” she added mournfully. She had never wanted to say it. But she had to now. With a sigh, she stooped her head into her hands with a deep huff, her muscles still twitching from the rush of fury that was only now slipping away. The man shimmied forward, leaning close and putting a rugged hand on her knee. She did not even flinch.

“I don’t think that’s true.” He spoke softly, “Are you alive?”

“Unfortunately.” came the muffled response.

“Those people you protected, they’re still alive.” He spoke without the air of a question. He had caught her in his net.

“Most of them. Some didn’t make it or left…”

“But the ones who are still there, and follow you; look to you. They’re alive.”

“I suppose.” she answered bluntly, looking back into the dancing fire. She could not argue with that.

“I don’t think someone who is nothing could have done that.” Hank finally leaned back. To that the veteran scoffed, head still in her palms.

“I’m nothing with a gun. That’s why. I ain’t responsible for them, so why should I even fucking try?” There was a newfound malice in her tone, “Ain’t like I ever helped anyone, or could help, so why fucking bother?” There was another silence until Hank finally spoke up. By then her glass was empty once again and she hadn’t even waited to refill it. There was a momentary frown before he began to speak.

“You know… you may feel like you can’t help, but, you did.”

“Who the fuck have I ever helped? All I'm good for is killing and being a burden.”

“Well,” He took a deep breath, as if what he was going to say next was causing him pain, “You might not believe me. But, you kept Sasha going in the Marines. It was what got her through bootcamp.”

The veteran jolted at the mention of the woman’s name, “Wait, she did?”

“Yes. I went to her room to call her down for dinner. Found her blubbering, cursing herself, all that stuff. She did not want to go back.” He refilled their glasses as he spoke, “We went out on the horses, went down the river. She was going on and on about how she couldn’t do it. That it did not matter what she did, it was never enough. Though, the interesting thing is, she could have come home any time. But she didn’t. And when I asked her what had kept her there… it was you.”

The woman chuffed through her nose, bringing her hand to her mouth as she continued to stare into the fire, her eyes straining the building emotion. “She never told me that.”

“And neither do they from what you’ve told me.” Hank coughed again into his fist, “Still, she didn’t need to, did she? You knew how she felt about you.”

“No. I just knew. But them? I don’t know. What do you do when… when they say you aren’t…?”

“It sounds like you know how they feel... Collette; I don't think that is what the problem is. It's in your head.”

“...Not that they seem to want me there.” Hank paused, unsure of how to proceed. The vet was in a bad place, clearly. But after a few moments of silence, she finally spoke up again, “I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save them. I caused them to die. And I just… I’m just afraid... that they'll die. Because of me...” Her voice trailed off with a shaky breath. She could not lose them, not again. She didn't notice the man’s motion until his calloused hands had wrapped themselves around her own, his thumbs stroking them with a gentle squeeze.

“Look at me.” His tone sharpened. When the veteran froze in her gaze, the grip tightened, “I said look at me.” When their eyes met, he sighed heavily, like a dying tree tired of the weight of his branches. He appeared close to tears himself, but if Sasha had been telling the truth, Hank was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. “What happened; it wasn’t yer fault.” Her mouth opened but was halted by what he said next, “When they told us what had happened, they said how you were the only one to make it. I tried to contact ya but they wouldn’t allow it while ya were in the hospital, and after they let ya go, nobody knew where ya had gone.” The chains of guilt gained a new lock and links as those words left his lips. Wincing, a tear freely slipped from her shut eye.

“I… I’m sorry-”

“Please. Don’t be.” His pupils chased hers, not allowing her eyes to escape his as his grip tightened on her hands, “You listen to me right now, Sargent Jane Collette Stanhope. I don’t blame you for what happened. My Anne didn’t blame you, and I bet right now she’s with Sasha, looking down and saying she still doesn't. I know why you blame yourself. Believe me. But, we don’t. You did all you could that day. And that’s all I could ask for. You could have ran; abandoned them. But you didn’t. You were with them until their last breaths. You held her as she slipped away; if there’s anything I know about good leadership, it’s that. I know this won’t make wrongs right. But I need you to know this;” Her eyes could not drift away as he spoke. All she could do was sigh and listen with shaking shoulders, unable to hold back the flow any longer. Hank’s whiskers bristled and his crows feet ceased as his face smoothed into a fatherly gaze. He gently pried the glass from her shaking grip and finally closed the decanter, which had almost been completely emptied down her gullet. She was reluctant to let go of it. If anything, she wanted to smash it over her own head. Hank seemed to notice this as he finally released it from her grip.

“Ya don’t need to keep digging this hole, punishing yourself anymore. Y’never had to. It’s not your fault…” He placed the decanter far away from her reach but still held her hand with a gentle grip. At this point, she was shaking her head, tears now rivering from her shut eyes.

“Y-Yes- yes it was-!”

“No. It. Isn’t.”

“But-!”

“It isn’t your fault. None of it is. I mean, all this...” he vaguely gestured out towards the window and beyond the horizon, “It’s not your fault. And I know ya’ll fight it. But ya gotta believe me. You’ve done everything y’can. But this? This… thing you’re going to do? Jane, if you commit to it, you’ll be going against everything you fought for. For yourself, for those people… and for her.”

“N-no, I have t-!”

“No!” To her distressed mind he might as well have screamed, even though the tone had only shifted slightly. The tremors worsened and she could not bring herself to open her eyes as her breathing jumped, “You don’t. Because it wasn’t your fault…”

“But… that just means that… it just happened.”

“Yes.”

She lifted her head, looking at him for the first time in minutes. He stared back, the blue eyes Sasha had inherited looking straight into her, glassy and threatening tears of their own. With a final shake of her head, and a broken voice, it released. For the first time since she died, since she had isolated herself in this hell hole, since that landmine had detonated, the veteran broke down in Hank’s arms, bringing them both to their knees. She felt him push off her heavy jacket, wrapping his arms around her shaking form, removing that layer she had built up to cradle the scared little girl inside, who could only choke out a question neither he nor anyone else could ever hope to answer.

“Why did it happen, Hank..?”

Mentions: Everyone almost but Owen's the only one mentioned directly Maj

 

[FireMaiden]

​

Location: The Jordan Lodge
Interaction: shadowz1995 (Hector)
Mentioned: The Mad Queen (Maria) Rumble Fish (Milly) Hyped_Taco (Micheal)
Those last moments of the fight with that behemoth went too quickly for Leliana to truly react. And out of all people, fo it to be Micheal that delivered the final blow was truly a surprise. Not an unappreciated one mind you. Surprise number two was Maria. Shooting Hector in the leg...she could have aimed higher, maybe not have made Leliana's work pile any higher. The injuries the doctor had, Leliana already knew that most of them were ones she had not dealt with before. Popping a shoulder back in place or setting bone and making sure someone recovered from an obvious concussion was one thing. Having to deal with a gunshot on top of a number of other injuries she wasn't even sure how grave they were was another thing. You would expect relief after seeing such a monster finally downed, but Leliana's panic persisted.

The blonde stood there for a few moments, still, as she processed what had happened. Her eyes were glued to the body before noticing a small movement next to it, and her eyes focused on Hector. He was still alive, and he needed help. Quickly. Holstering her pistol Leliana hurried inside. That may have seemed counterproductive, but as she moved to the duffle bags holding the supplies she used, it would have made sense. Inside one of them was a tourniquet, real one she had kept in the first aid kit for her car. When the backdoor opened again whole she was digging to find it, her eyes darted up to see Maria.

The other woman had made a good impression on Leliana before, but now...if she was running, Leliana wouldn't stop her. Instead of taking responsibility for her actions, she could just flee. Though of course, Maria just saw them as monsters, probably though capital punishment was something they all fucking enjoyed. Fine. The less people like that around, the better. After a few seconds, Leliana continued her search through the duffle bags. Her hands were shaking again, her breathing shaky but this time she couldn't let herself fall victim to it. Not that it felt like a panic attack, but she could only tell about two-thirds of the time. And even then it was...iffy. But now, right now, she had to focus.

It didn't take long for the nurse to fond her prize. It was buried at the bottom of one of the bags with a few other things they hardly used, along with some of the stuff David brought. That reminded her, he had somewhere else he was staying which meant he had other supplies. Maybe Luca knew where it was, those things could be helpful. And his place could potentially be used like a checkpoint or a watchtower depending on how it was set up. But right now, that wasn't her focus. The nurse hurried back outside with the tourniquet, potentially working on borrowed time. If Maria had shot him in an artery that could mean they lost their only truly skilled doctor. Leliana knew her skills were nothing like his, and she definitely wasn't smart enough to do what he was doing downstairs. Hector, and honestly Ralph, already made sure she was aware of that.

Anyway, Leliana knelt down next to Hector once she was back outside, hoping Micheal was sticking around. Leliana wouldn't be able to haul Hector back inside by herself, and she knew damn well this man was in too much pain to move on his own. That being said, she smiled down at him. "Don't worry, you're gonna be okay." Bedside manner meant occasionally saying things that may not have been true, but it was all to put people at ease. If they wanted to get him inside he needed that. And Milly...Leliana would ask Micheal to go downstairs and bring her up so she could keep an eye on her. He was probably going to be her assistant for the day so...well, she knew he wasn't entirely incompetent, just a little lacking in common sense.

And then the gore inside. Once the others came back, at least what remained of Shinoa and David had fo be cleaned up, Nile could help repair the window Luca had been sent through. So that meant working quickly. The tourniquet she had was one used in bleeding control packs and up int this point she had honestly forgotten they had it. As stressful as the situation was, being shot at by an angry army of yellow suits was a little more intense. Carefully, Leliana worked the tourniquet up his leg, finding a spot and in or two above the entry wound to start tightening it. She was aware it hurt, and that there could have been things she did before this, but trying to fix these types of wounds outside was just too risky for her comfort. Plus, she wanted to get him away from the body.

As she tightened the tourniquet, the just kept an eye on his wound, watching for the bleeding to stop. It was a difficult thing to judge thanks to his pants but once she was confident it had, she stopped. "Hector, you still with us?" She asked, shooting slightly to obverse his reaction. Moving him while still conscious was going to be a lot easier than if he had slipped under.

 

[Rumble Fish]

Music​

Everything was blurry and dry as she finally roused from a deep and dreamless slumber. Sitting up, her throat and walls of her mouth ached and her dehydrated eyes stung. It took her a moment to realise that she was back in the guest room and had been tucked under the sheets. Next to her head was a glass of water and aspirin. With a sharp inhale through her teeth, she sat up, a hand on her sore head.

“Fuck…” she groaned, before a sudden figure appearing in her vision made her jump. Hank sat slumped against the back wall, his head tilted back and his chest rising and falling in a sleep. The veteran deducted what had happened and just sighed, sitting up, “Hank.”

“Huh-?” the man snorted awake with a jolt. After a second, he seemed to calm down enough to stand up with a resonate sigh, turning to the woman who was now sipping the water after swallowing a couple of pills, “How d’ya feel?” his brows furrowed worryingly. A weight of guilt pushed down on her heart. It was coming back to her now, the night before. After crumbling into a broken and sobbing mess, everything was a blur.

“Weird…” she mumbled, rubbing her head before massaging her eyes, “What even-?”

“Don’t think too hard about it. Y’had a, well, let’s say a very difficult night.” Hank groaned as he stretched before looking at the veteran, “What, you don’t remember-?”

“N-no I do it’s just… I can’t think straight- Hank-?”

“Okay don’t get yourself in a state. While you get your thoughts together, I’m going to go and make us breakfast, alright? Just come down when you’re ready.”

“Okay…” she was still rubbing her eyes. She heard the door close, telling her that Hank had left the room. The veteran groaned and finally found the strength to get up. Everything was heavy, her limbs, her thoughts, everything. It took her another few moments before she could think straight. Everything from the night before began to come back in a clearer sense. And now that she could think clearly, the veteran was even more confused than she already had been. She expected to feel shame and a sense of loathing for the previous night’s display of pathetically charged emotion as well as an overwhelming urge to punish herself for that said display. But she didn’t. Why?

*​

The veteran was still quiet at breakfast. Venison strips, baked beans and coffee was an odd combination but she still engulfed it heartily, given this was most likely she would eat well for the foreseeable future and the fact that she had a fucking hangover. Hank seemed to notice not only this display of gluttony but her lack of conversation.

“You sure you are okay?” he asked before sipping his coffee, the veteran was not surprised at his paternal worry after everything that had been said and done but she simply raised a dismissive hand to wave it off so he continued, “So um… I’ll be heading off soon.” At those words, the vet paused. She had forgotten about that. For the fleeting time of the morning, it almost felt normal. Like everything in the world was at peace.

“Yeah...” she hummed, cutting further into the venison.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come? I’m sure-”

“Hank,” she spoke bluntly but still as kindly as she could afford, “You’ve done enough for me already and I’m mighty grateful.”

“It’s just… well…” His hesitation spoke volumes and the veteran sighed as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“I know.” she glanced away, “But, well…” Hank noticed this faltering and sat more forward, a more serious glint in his eye.

“Look,” he put his coffee down, “If you’re not going to go back there… then find somewhere to go. Find another group or, anything! And don’t stray away from that plan. Give yourself something to work toward.” All the veteran could do was nod in response. Since she had finished her meal, Hank took her plate. There was now a sombre air, as both knew that within the half hour, neither would never see the other again. But... what could they do?

***

Hank groaned as he put the last of his bags in the truck. The woman wiped her clammy brow and looked at the sky. It was still dark, with the peek of dawn sleepily approaching. She was only taken from the sky as she felt something fall at her feet. Hank stepped back from the woman's rucksack that he had placed at her feet.

"I filled it with enough food and medicine to last you a week. Ya don't burn through much when you live alone." He paused for a moment before slowly getting into his truck. But before he shut the door, he paused and turned back to the vet, "Look um, I know ya said you weren't coming. But, if ya want, you can stay here? It's secluded and easy to defend and..." He was unsure on what else to say. The veteran looked back to the big farm house with folded arms. Live in Hank's home? She thought. Hard. But, she could not do it. She could not live in a shrine to her trauma and allow herself to continue sinking. Hank had thrown her a rope. She had to take it.

"I appreciate it, Hank." She speaks earnestly, "But..." The man sighed but smiled sadly as he closed the truck's door. "I'll board it up real good. And watch over it. But, I can't possibly..."

“I figured you would say that.” The man’s gaze reached hers. “But… can I ask one thing of you?"

“Anything.”

“Take Arthur.” The veteran turned to look at the small barn at the mention of the horse’s name, “He needs someone young who can take him on. I’m too old, the Robinsons don’t have the foggiest clue about horses and I can’t bear the thought of him just standing in a stall for the rest of his days. You said you grew up around horses.”

“I-I did, m-my pa’s horses. He reared them on our ranch.”

“Ya don’t have to.” he added rapidly, his breath becoming ragged, “B-But at the least set him free. I couldn’t bear the thought of…” as he trailed off, she took another step towards the truck, placing a hand on the lowered window.

“No. No.” she was blunt, her sincerity uncompromised, “I’ll take him. I promise.” Hank sighed, dabbing the corners of his eyes with a hanky before inhaling deeply to get a grip of his thoughts.

“He’s a good horse.” His eyes grew soft and pleading, “Promise you will take care of him. For her.” She turned to the barn once again. If she was not going to live in the house they loved, she could at the very least dote on the horse they loved. Upon turning back to Hank’s gaze, he reached an arm out of the truck window towards her, a sombre look on his rugged face.

“I promise.” She took his hand, allowing the man to pull her into the side of the truck, wrapping her in a soft headlock while the woman clung to his arm with squeezed eyes. She did not want to let go. She wanted Hank to come back with her, they’d protect him, he’d be a viable member. But he had made up his mind. Their embrace lasted longer than she had been willing to count. When he finally loosened his grip, she reluctantly pulled away. With a flick of his keys, the truck roared to life. Hank Oberon turned to her one last time.

“Sargent.” He tipped his trucker hat, to which the now tear stained veteran wordlessly tipped her army cap to him, “Take care of them.” With that, the truck slowly trundled down the gravel, past the gates and joining the tarmac. The woman squeaked and, regardless of the ache in her muscles and sore head, ran to the fence, her eyes locked onto the vehicle. She watched the firebrick truck for as long as she could, even when it became nothing but a small dot in the distance… before vanishing into the trees. Never to be seen again.

Reluctantly, she finally turned away. Hank was gone. She would never see him again. But at least this time she had been able to say goodbye. With a gruff sigh, she limped to the barn. Already the scent of the horse, the dust and the hay brought her back to a simpler time. And upon opening the door and seeing Arthur, who perked his ears and fluttered his nostrils in a friendly nicker, a sad smile crept across her scarred face. As she slowly made her way around the barn, filling her rucksack with many of the things he would need. Brushes, a hoof pick and a few carrots. He would be fine to survive on grass for a good long time. She’d get him hay when it was possible. The horse blinked as he watched her with his soft eyes, his tail lazily flicking around to swat away a fly. When she was finally done, she turned to the horse’s tack. His bridle was a sidepull hackamore and was missing a bit. She could not help but snort slightly at the lack of the metal. Sasha always hated bits, and the veteran herself was not a fan of shank bits. With a deep sigh, she lifted the heavy saddle and headed towards him...

The heavy door creaked open from the veteran’s effort as she led the near-prancing Arthur into the open. It was clear from his high head and flared nostrils that he hadn’t been out for some time under the saddle. With a chuff, his ears erected before releasing a high pitched bay above her head. The woman sighed and stroked his great neck, hoping to assure him. The horse swung his head, as if searching for something, or someone.

“I’m sorry.” She hummed, “Hank’s no’ here. Not anymore.” Her gaze ventured past the fence, where the last glimpse of his truck had gone. The last Oberon was now gone. But not from this earth. The only living connection left to Sasha was the huffing and pawing beast that stood next to her. She made a final check of the bag, securing it well to the saddle before, with a baited breath, she raised her right foot into the stirrup and hoisted herself upward and aboard.

Feeling the pressure of a rider, Arthur snorted and tossed his head. She could feel his front hooves leave the ground in a half rear in excitement. His rider shushed through her teeth and stroked his ebony neck, letting her weight drop heavily into the saddle, hoping to calm him. His ears flicked wildly as he took in the sounds and smells of the outdoors. His left ear had a small white dot on the back of it while the right had two, like a pair of well placed dominoes. It had been a long time since she had been atop a horse. Every small motion almost sent her to the ground. But after a few moments, years of horsemanship resurfaced. The veteran steadied her breath as she ran her hand down his neck, the thin layer of hair covering smooth skin was something she never thought she’d experience again. As she felt him shift beneath her, her gaze travelled past the trees one final time. She had to turn away. But that would mean saying goodbye for good. But, she had to. The sun was beginning its ascent. She had to move.

“...Come on, Arthur.” She sighed, her tone shaking from heavy emotion, “Let’s go.” and with that, she guided her steed by her hand, clicking him into a long foxtrot out of the back gate and into the woods. The veteran did not look back. Not once. She couldn’t afford to.

​

 

[Hyped_Taco]

The neckbeard continued to firmly hold the sword which he had decapitated the infected with mear seconds ago. In front of himself, the results of his effort finally showed, even after all his failed attempts to kill the infected beforehand; the head of the former monk fell and rolled right to his feet, with the cut having surprisingly been clean. From all the people in the room, possibly the most shocked one of them all would be the neckbeard, due to actually having managed to kill the infected. This had been possible due to Hector’s help of course, but the fact was that he had still been the one to deal the finishing blow to the 7-foot tall behemoth. The man stood there immobile for a moment, questioning himself one thing “... now what?”.

Michael’s hands began shivering due to the amount of time he had held the sword in the same position, alongside the fact that he was exhausted from what he had had to do today. He loosened the grip with his right hand and let the sword go. The neckbeard lowered his hands, yet continued to hold the katana on his left hand, although less firm than before.

Then from a sudden, he was forced back into reality. A woman who stood no taller than himself quickly gave him some type of message. The combination of both having been caught off guard and the woman’s noticeable Irish accent made it quite hard to understand what she was saying. While the man didn’t quite get everything that was told to him, he got the basic message of it. To grab the letter and to call Ralph about it.

Before he could ask her to repeat herself, she had already bolted it out of the lodge. He had several questions, such as who the actual fuck was she and why the need to call Ralph if he was at the lodge… right?. The neckbeard was tempted to go look for her to ask her such things, but he decided against it due to the simple fact that even if he did, she was in better shape than he had ever been so it would not be hard to outrun him. Besides, he had other problems to deal with, such as his now starting to shake legs.

Alongside his shaking legs, Michael began to feel dizzy as well. The amount of stuff he had been able to do for the entire duration of the zombie rampage could be attributed simply to an adrenaline rush on his entire body. Had it not been for it, then the man would probably still have been on the now upside down RV.

Realizing that he was almost fully drained now, Michael put the letter in his pocket and headed towards the couch in the living room. He would have run towards it had he not been so goddamned tired to do so. Slowly approaching the furniture, Michael felt his stomach beginning to act weird. While not very versatile on medical matters, the man quickly realized he was about to vomit.

Changing his trajectory to the left side of the sofa instead, Michael put his right hand on the sofa’s armrest and prepared for the inevitable. Feeling yesterday’s dinner forcefully make its way through his esophagus was not a pleasant feeling. After he had finished involuntarily expulsing the contents of his stomach, Michael let go of the armrest and took a few steps back.

Thinking that he could finally rest now, Michael’s legs finally gave up. With nothing he could do once more, Michael let gravity do it’s thing and fell right on his ass.

“Eh… fuck it” Michael said before deciding to simply lay on the floor instead. While the sofa would have undoubtedly been more comfortable, he simply didn’t have the strength nor cared enough to actually stand up to go to it.

Putting his newly acquired Katana on his side, Michael decided to relax on the floor. At least until he had taken a breath.

Mentioned: David and Hector shadowz1995
Interacted with: Maria The Mad Queen Gravity

 

[Maj]

​

November 22, 2018
3:24 PM
The Lodge

The ride back happened mostly in silence. There was no reason to speak, the weight of the day hanging like a damp blanket over the pair as they drove. In fact, there was almost some comradery in it, a sort of understanding that only came from shared trauma. They both looked like hell, blood stained and wounded, many of them still oozing. Occasionally, Andy’s weak voice would break through to help redirect Aaron around a herd of monsters too large for the Humvee to handle. Each bump in the road caused the redhead to hiss through her teeth, free arm launching up to her shoulder. Blood soaked through their makeshift bandages at an alarming rate. It was better than nothing, but Andrea knew that if she didn’t get Hector’s help soon she would be back in bed and recovering from blood loss like last time.

She wasn’t looking forward to having to explain herself to the lodge. It was the first time she had gone on a run by herself and it might have gone worse than any of the others so far. Not only was she ripped to shreds, but so was Aaron. Not to mention Nessa…

Andy sighed at the thought. Her good hand sank down into a zipped pocket on her bag and retrieved what looked like a hand rolled cigarette. The smell was off, but recognizable. Her hand trembled as she put it between her lips. Being courteous of Aaron’s car, she rolled down the window before she put the cheap, plastic lighter to it and ignited it. She could feel her body slow as she inhaled the drug into her lungs.

The girl let out a small cough as she extended her arm toward Aaron in a silent offer to share. She had no idea if he even liked to smoke, but after all they had gone through together, it was the least she could do. There would be a lot of questions when they got back, and she wasn’t sure how many of them she was prepared to answer.

Aaron gratefully took the joint, clamping it between his lips as he inhaled. The drive back was proving far harder than the journey out. Small lights flickered at the edge of his vision, ghostly apparitions brought about by the blow to his head. The bleeding from his temple had mostly stopped now, the dried blood in his hair now beginning to itch like hell as it matted into a crimson streaked mess. His cheeks still ached though from Nessa’s wild final assault, she had managed to take some chunks from him. It was that which he was more concerned about, his head would clear with time, but god knows what she might have had under those nails as they gouged his flesh.

The warm smoke filling his lungs brought some relief from the pain, and cleared the fog somewhat. Thankfully Andy was able to direct them past the worst of the shambling undead, if she hadn’t been there Aaron would probably have been left driving around these woods for hours, the trees almost seemed to be looming in around them, half familiar tracks disappearing beneath a wall of branches and leaves. After what felt like an age though, the surroundings finally started to become familiar, the lodge tantalisingly close.

As they rounded on the dirt road to the lodge, Andy’s heart quickened. She was relieved of course that there would soon be pain medication and medical treatment, however the idea of having to tell Hector all that had happened made her chest ache. Hadn’t he tried to warn her against this? Told her that the poor girl needed help? She knew that he would be far from pleased. Nessa hadn’t been at the lodge long enough to build any lasting relationships except maybe for Luca.

Luca.

“Fuck me,” Andy growled under her breath. That was a conversation she would rather avoid. Maybe he would be so exhausted from recovery that he wouldn’t even notice. Ultimately, she didn’t believe that he would be mad at her. Andy’s actions had been totally in self defense after all.

“Aaron?” Andy’s voice found strength as the concern filled her vocal chords. With her eyes now on the lodge, she was already reaching down into her duffle bag to retrieve the handgun Colt had given her. It was a poor replacement for her bow, but it was better than nothing.

Her home was in shambles. The front door was entirely caved in, windows broken leaving the yard littered with shattered glass. One of the RV’s out front was on its side, metal crumpled like it had been abandoned in a junkyard. As Aaron’s humvee grew closer she could see blood. No one came immediately to greet her at the rumbling sound of the Humvee. Andy’s heart sank.

The scene was one of devastation, and for a moment Aaron was left dumbstruck. It looked as though a bulldozer had torn through the place, they’d only left that morning but looking at the devastation it looked like they had been gone for months. His mouth was rapidly drying as he looked about the place, there was no sign of life, no movement or noise, just a deathly stillness that hung about the place that only a few hours earlier had been teeming with life.

What had happened while they were away? Where were her people? She was already out of her seatbelt by the time Aaron hit the breaks. The redhead had the door open and was on her feet, gun held in front of her before the engine turned off. She didn’t know what was waiting for her, or even if she had another fight left in her at this point, but she knew better than to go in without her wits about her.

“Hector?” Andy called. “Leliana?” She didn’t want to open the door. Her mind was already at the worst case scenario, imagining them all as monsters stumbling dumbly around her homestead. Her good hand tightened around the grip of the pistol.

“Luca!” Her voice cracked as she called his name. She looked back to Aaron. “What the fuck happened?” Her eyes darted fearfully. If there was anyone inside, they weren’t immediately responding to her call.

Aaron winced as he pulled himself from the car

Andrea took a deep breath and pushed through the broken door, begging for signs of life.

Collab: RayPurchase
Mentions: shadowz1995 TheMightyRedLemon Brax FireMaiden

 

[shadowz1995]

The redhead was met with a half-dead groan as her body entered the ruins of her wooden home. Hector’s form was seated in the couch a few paces from her. His head was lolling over the top of the couch and he wasn’t moving. The only thing that stared back at Andy’s fearful gaze was the bullet ravaged side of his head. A black abyss for an eye that neither confirmed nor denied the status of his mortality.

At a painfully slow, meticulous pace, the old doctor’s head turned in the huntress’s direction.

She was met with a grey eye that no longer had any white left around it. Hector’s sclera was blood red from the pressure that was exerted on his head earlier and the dried blood that still clung to his face where it had leaked out told the tale.

The researcher didn’t offer any words of greeting. He just slightly raised his recently relocated arm in acknowledgement before returning to stare at the ceiling in silent agony.

With a heavy breath of relief, Andy lowered the handgun she had been aiming into the side of Hector’s skull. Between the darkness of the lodge and the obvious red hue to the whites of his eyes, the girl had feared the worst. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to get a clean shot from her spot in the broken doorway, but without her bow, the girl was forced to rely on other means. She slid the thing back into her bag before closing the distance between them.

“Hector, what in the actual fuck…” She was cut off by him weakly raising his arm to a notebook that laid on the coffee table. The redhead paused and picked it up with her functioning arm, bringing it close to her face in the dim natural light of the room. On the lines was a detailed account of what had happened in her absence. The report was meticulous, each broken door and window accounted for. She glanced up at the large bloodstain that covered the stairwell as she read about Shinoa and winced.

Andy knelt in front of him, hissing as she jostled her shoulder. The fabric strips they had ripped to bind her wound with were saturated during the car ride, wet and red. Icy, Colorado air made her shiver against the warmth of her own blood. Her emerald eyes scanned his face, worry consuming her features once more.

“Are you okay?” It was a dumb question to be sure. Obviously, he wasn’t. It was just the kind of thing you were conditioned to say when someone was hurt. “Did you have Leliana look after you?”

The doctor lifted his fingers into an “okay” sign and waved a single finger for the Leliana question. It wracked his nerves in pain but with a great amount of effort, the doc’s broken voice managed to croak its way out of his lungs.

“Nothing she can do…” he managed.

“Jesus Hector,” Andy cursed under her breath. The doctor sounded like he was dying. It was no wonder she had mistaken his pained moans for that of the undead only moments prior. The girl reached into the back pocket of her jeans and retrieved the smooth, rectangular shape of her cellphone. It had a hard protective case on it that featured Darth Vaders face on the back, but that didn’t stop it from having a hairline crack across the screen. She had only been months away from an upgrade when the apocalypse started. With a practiced motion, she slid her thumb across the screen in the pattern that unlocked the device. Andy passed it to Hector with the kind of finality that meant she wasn’t in the mood to argue with him.

“Just type it man, you sound like shit.”

Graciously, the older gentleman took the smartphone and began to type a far more articulate response to her questions.

“The damage is internal and no one other than me is capable of examining it properly. Same as when I lost my eye.” He gave a few spaces before continuing his “dialogue, ”I can move mostly fine. What happened to your shoulder? From the pattern and depth, I’d say some kind of animal got you.”

“Lion,” She answered plainly. His face twisted in an expression that could only be described as “How the fuck?”. The question was one she had expected. While she was in bad shape, Hector looked much worse. “Please remind me to never go back to the mother fucking circus.” The redhead let out a sarcastic laugh that made her suck air in through her teeth as it jostled her injury.

“Apparently, someone locked the circus animals in the generator shed,” she further explained. “The poor emaciated thing lunged at me when I opened the door. By the looks of the human remains we found in there, I would say it had been a while since its last meal.” She couldn’t even blame the beast, it was just going by its baser predatory instincts. The thought caused her to stall for a moment as she drew parallels between starving animals and the infected. Why was one pitied and the other demonized? She shook her head. “At any rate, we got the generator. Aaron should be able to get it up and running pretty quickly.”

A sharp exhalation of pain escaped Hector’s lips as he forced himself to stand. Once he was on his feet, he began typing into the phone once more.

“If his condition isn’t as bad as yours, Ms. James can take care of him. You are going to need my attention. Again.” Andy scanned over the text on the screen and gave a characteristic roll of her eyes. To be fair, Leliana had taken care of most of the grunt work the last time she had gotten hurt, but Mary Jordan had raised her better than to bite the hand that fed you. Or in this case, healed you.

The bullet wound caused the big man to have a harsh limp but he powered through nonetheless. They were going to need help carrying a generator and chances were that between two injured grown men, they would be able to manage.

On the way out the front door, the scientist typed a quick four word question, “Where is the acrobat?”

Andy grimaced at the question, still holding on to the phone. Her chest suddenly felt tight, similar to how she felt when her mother had caught her in some sort of lie. She scratched the back of her head, her braid now in disheveled, frizzy, curls.

“Things may have gotten a little out of hand,” she explained, her voice suddenly softer in tone, like she was telling Hector a secret. “None of us got away from the run unscathed.” When the doctor met her with a quizzical raise of his eyebrow, the twin sighed again and continued.

“You know as well as I do she wasn’t the most stable when we left.” She was making excuses, trying to rationalize it. Instinctually, her eyes scanned down to the purple bruising on his shoulder where Nessa’s teeth once were. However, somewhere under all the contempt, Andy knew that she had brought Nessa’s fate on herself. Gently she passed the phone back to Hector.

“And I’m not exactly the easiest person to get along with,” she admitted. His impatient stare told her to quit stalling and get to the point. The way she shuffled her feet made her look like a lectured child. Suddenly it was blatantly obvious that Andy was a young woman of 22 and not the fierce hunter that she made herself to be.

“I tried Hector,” She admitted, her voice sad. “I know you told me to only do it as a last resort and let me assure you that by the time we got to where we were I had no other options.” She had gone through the scenario in her mind a million times on the hour or so trek back home. If she had been a little kinder to Vanessa, or even just less abrasive maybe it wouldn’t have triggered the woman’s episode. Still, they would have ended up here eventually. Long before Andy ever opened her mouth she could see the way the duel-eyed acrobat looked at her. The redhead knew what it was like to be stalked.

Once she had made contact with Aaron and assured him that the lodge was okay, at least by the not full of undead standards, Andy recounted the events from their trip in more detail. She did her best to be as thorough as possible, going over everything from her and Nessa’s adventures along the trapeze, the special zombie with the metal jaw, the bear, and finally to the Lion’s attack. When she got to the part about how Nessa had held Aaron at gunpoint to keep him from helping her with the beast, she lowered her voice once more. With obvious regret, she told him about how her bow had saved her life, but now lived in splitters amongst the wreckage of the circus grounds. Finally, she explained how Nessa had pounced on her and it had taken her and Aaron both to secure her to the ground.

“We had to pin her down to keep her from killing us. When it was clear that I couldn’t restrain her without risk of both of our lives, I did what I had to do,” the girl finished.

The pair was now standing in front of the trunk of the car, staring at it in silence. The entire recounting made Hector want to shake his head in disbelief. He refrained from doing so out of fear of finally breaking what miracle held his head on his shoulders. There was an ominous gloom about the sealed opening. As if opening it would bring the whole situation into reality. The smell withheld no secrets either. Death was within that trunk.

Still, it had to be done. And so, Hector reached down and popped open Pandora’s box.

The lion’s head stared back at them as the back of the humvee opened up. Its eyes were glossy and void of life, burgundy stains in the fur all around its mane. The muzzle was still stained in her own blood as Andy went to pick up the decapitated cranium. It was heavy, despite its frail and underweight body. She groaned as the weight stretched across her shoulders, moving it to the ground, dripping lion’s blood on her boots as she did so.

Just behind the tarp that had once held the head was Vanessa’s lifeless body.

TheMightyRedLemon Maj RayPurchase FireMaiden

 

[The Mad Queen]

Maria Kennedy: Run​

The departure from the lodge had been swift and she ran through the woods as fast as her legs would carry her. Needless to say, the redhead never looked back. The lodge was in shambles, with plenty of injuries to spare. There would be little time for revenge. By the time she was at the edge of the woods, she stopped to breathe and only then did she notice the gun was still clutched in her hand.

At first, she stared wide-eyed, thinking back to the accident but soon enough her looked turned to that of anger, staring daggers at the weapon. She was seconds away from tossing it before remembering to check the safety. She'd never fired a single shot before, but she'd seen the things on TV in passing. The last thing she wanted, outside of being hunted down was another misfire.

Flicking the safety on, she hurled the gun back into the woods and kept going, uttering curses under her breath towards the item and pausing. Where could she go? The church was the most obvious choice, but she wondered if she'd told anyone at the lodge about it and there was more than just her to consider. Had Caoimhe mentioned it in passing?

She ran a hand down her face.
"Feck."
Aurora wasn't a small town. They had more than one. If she kept quiet, she had a chance of staying hidden and there was plenty of food to boot. As she was deep in thought, weighing up options a single corpse shuffled towards her. With a roll of her eyes and muttering yet even more curses under her breath, Maria stepped forwards and caved in it's skull with the aluminium bat.

She opened the journal, and started to write.

In case you ever read this things at the lodge did not work out
Milly is dead David turned into one of those things and went on a killing spree
I sort of fucked things up by accidentally shooting someone in the confusion
They will think it was on purpose because he threatened to shoot me earlier
If you ever wake up DO NOT GO BACK THERE

Closing the book and placing it back in her rucksack, she started to head towards the church. The further she got from the lodge, the more she checked over her shoulder. Aurora was under lockdown and some of those trapped within the town would be out for her blood. Her only refuge now was under the roof of God.

"If you're up there, I could really use some help." Her eyes faced the clouds "Safe passage back to the Church. That's all." She glanced down, sighing before checking over her shoulder once more "And when a wee girl called Milly gets to yer gates. Please, let 'er in. Be kind...Please."

Facing what was before her, Maria had no choice other than to press onwards.
Mentioned: Rumble Fish (Milly)

 

[FireMaiden]

​

Location: The Jordan Lodge
Interaction: RayPurchase (Aaron)
Mentioned: The Mad Queen (Maria) Rumble Fish (Milly) Hyped_Taco (Micheal) shadowz1995 (Hector) Brax (Luca) Maj (Andy)
The next few hours were...very long. Leliana somehow managed to help Hector inside and patch up some of his wounds to the best of her ability. She cleaned the external cuts, gave him some pain killers, and wrapped up the bullet wound after assessing it. Though she knew that as soon as he was able, the Doctor was going to most likely triple-check what little she was able to do once he was quite stubborn. Something she couldn't blame him for but it was hard knowing she couldn't do much else for the man. But she had other people and things to worry about. So the only thing she could do was keep an eye on his condition. After she patched up Hector, Leliana briefly checked in on Michael and made him aware that as soon as he could move, she would appreciate him cleaning up the vomit he left beside the couch before she headed downstairs. Milly must have been terrified, but most importantly Leliana needed to check on her condition too. The nurse was gentle and reassuring, and after a bit picked the kid up again and brought her upstairs.

Instead of sitting her in the living room, Milly was put in the den. That would give her a view of other places in the house so she was isolated but still able to see everything. Taking her temperature and seeing that it was normal, at least, normal for an injured child, she got to work patching up Milly's head. She was as gentle as possible, reciting a few Pixar and Disney scenes she remembered to entertain her. But she didn't remove the restraints. At least for the moment, since keeping an eye on her condition was important. The nurse did make sure Milly was comfortable, however, not wanting to stress her out even more than she already was. Once the kid was situated, Leliana moved on to Luca. His injuries were minimal compared to the others, though a few places needed a stitch or two. She was able to wrap up with him pretty quickly and help him go and lay down in the master bedroom again to recover.

Once Luca had been laid down, she went and checked on everyone else again before she went off to grab a broom. Hector didn't stay in one place for long, and her protests were ignored. Like they usually were. So Leliana just had to let him do whatever it was he was doing, sticking close most of the time in order to watch what he did and make sure he wasn't going to fall over. Once he was done, she got started on what her original task was. Using the broom, some gardening gloves, and some expert gently kicking, Leliana set herself upon cleaning up. At least a bit, taking breaks every once in a while to check on everyone and bring them water when needed. After about two hours, Leliana released Milly from the leg restraints but asked that she stayed in the den, at least for another few hours. Milly had no outrageous fever, so Leliana saw that as safe. Especially after Cletus's story about what had happened to his wife.

Once the glass and splintered wood were cleaned up and put in garbage bags out in the yard, Leliana moved on to cleaning up what was once Shinoa. It would have been nice to have some help from someone with the stomach for it, but Hector was resting on the couch and Maria was gone. So...she had left after all. Not that Leliana had expected any different, the way the kickboxer had been acting...maybe she had shot Hector on purpose. Originally she figured like a lot of people that had been forced into this situation, Maria had no idea how to use a gun. Maybe Leliana had been wrong about that. Regardless though, she was doing her best to clean up. In a garbage bag, Leliana went around and put all the solid matter, and eventually a corpse, in the bag before, trying it shut once she was done with that step and dragging it outside. She placed it there in the back with David, knowing they could either bury them or burn her.

As she headed back in, a sudden wave of guilt wash over her. This was...easier than it should have been. Throwing a teenager in a garbage bag like she was nothing. But what more could she have done for her? David had basically turned them into jelly, getting Shinoa out in one piece would have been impossible. At least this way, she could be buried peacefully. It made her stomach churn a little, but Leliana had to keep going. She filled a bucket with some warm water and bleach, grabbing an old-ish looking sponge before she was on her hands and knees scrubbing away blood. This would take a while, but as she had done with sweeping, every once in a while she would stop and go check on everyone before continuing. There obviously wasn't much she could do but...apparently being a housekeeper at somewhere like Moe's had its perks. So, when the sound of a truck and then Andy's voice hit her ears, Leliana perked up immediately. She opened her mouth to respond but the redhead's attention was captured by the older doctor.

So she assumed that Aaron and Nessa we're outside, and give. What she could see of Andy's wounds, she could assume the other two needed help as well. Standing up and quickly washing her hands before grabbing a water bottle, the nurse snuck outside not wanting to interrupt. When she saw the man, her shoulders tensed slightly, but she was able to greet him with a smile. Taking a look around, she didn't see Nessa, but she figured the acrobat had run off to do whatever it was she wanted to do when they got back. "Andy is injured, so I wanted to come and see what your situation was. We can go in whenever you're ready." The nurse spoke, offering the water bottle to the man in front of her. Though her attention was captured by the sound of Andy and Hector coming outside. The air was...tense to say the least, though Leliana wasn't aware as to why. She sent a sly glance to Aaron, wondering if his expression would give anything away. But she wouldn't have to wait for long. Catching the tail end of the conversation between Hector and Andy, the girl shivered a little. It still wasn't clear what exactly had happened but...Nessa wasn't coming back to what she could understand. "Come on Aaron, I'll take a look at you inside." The nurse said quickly, taking a moment to watch him before heading back inside, not too quickly that Aaron would fall behind, but quickly enough to avoid seeing what was in the trunk.

 

[The Mad Queen]

Fisher Video Journal #2​

Moving the body out of the library took almost as long as the autopsy itself. The corpse of the creature lay on one of the tables and Ralph was exhausted, to say the least. The Doctor had performed many autopsies over the course of his career, but something felt different. Mere hours ago he'd stood face to face with the infected and it had almost torn him to shreds. He kept replaying that moment over and over in his head. Just how close had he come to a rather brutal demise? A missed shot would've been all it needed to rip him in half. Despite the encounter, he had to learn all he could.

"Doctor Ralph Fisher. Former CDC. This is video entry number two and will be my last entry today. Before I go any further, make sure any children are out of the room." He sighed "I had intended to leave this particular autopsy till tomorrow but...I just had to find out how this thing worked. Time is, three fifteen pm. Much like the regular infected and the Gremlin from the first entry, this infected has a strong amount of decay around the hypothalamus, the parietal lobe and frontal lobe in particular. Again, the rest of the brain remains relatively intact. This infection keeps the parts it needs still moving. Once more, the digestive system no longer functions...However. Observing this creature up close, it responded differently to prey than others."

He moved the camera towards the face of the Librarian "At least from what I observed, it did not consume any killed prey. I watched as a raccoon and a rat sadly ran afoul of it. Whether it was storing them for later I cannot be sure of...Given I put a bullet in it's head." He paused "In defence, of course." He explained, waving one of his hands "Everything I learned about it from our brief encounter was incredibly disturbing. It shows the rate of the evolution of this virus and adds further fuel to my theory about it picking and choosing traits in order to spread itself further. The host appears to be a woman in her sixties, but..." He moved the camera closer to it's face "Perhaps she had fading eyesight and as part of her mutation, the Aurora plague induced blindness, allowing for a seeming elevation of her sense of hearing. The infected acted with outright hostility towards any sound made, dealing with them with these claws." He panned the camera down further, displaying the hands of the Librarian "And an alarming speed, showing that it can enhance athletic abilities. Nobody in her sixties could move as fast as this infected did."

He sighed "Every single time I come across a new mutation, the more this plague both surprises and frightens me. This creature was using some form of echolocation to try and triangulate where I was hiding when I encountered it. Perhaps if I had kept it active further, I may have learned more about this but...I could not take that risk. I can only pray that this was a unique mutation and there are not anymore of these creatures out there. Not just for my sake. For everyone's."

Placing the camera back in it's spot, his brown eyes looked into the lens "June. If I'm completely honest. And I'll have to be, because I'm an awful liar...I have no idea what I'm doing. None. Nothing from what I've learned, from what I've studied explains any of this. Are there pathogens that modify the brain? Of course. But...A colleague, no a friend...We had a much earlier theory that the virus was a mixture between Chronic Wasting Disease and perhaps something else. It was entirely possible, given that our cousins in the animal kingdom can be infected with that too. All it would've needed was a slight jump to cross the species barrier. It made sense back then but, nothing seems to make sense now. The only explanation I have to go on, given how rapid this thing has evolved, the way that it modifies some hosts...It's completely engineered. It has to be."

He let out a light chuckle "I don't mean to sound like a conspiracy theorist. Although, by the time people actually see this I assume they'll know of certain actions in Aurora itself. I suppose the origin is a little out of reach, so I'll do my best with what I have here." He managed a smile "Part of me wishes you were here, but at the same time I'd much prefer you were safe. That's more important to me than you being by my side."

"I'd leave a message for Sarah, but right now I'm not sure what to say. I guess just for her to stay safe too. As I make this, I do miss the both of you. More than anything."
With a smile still on his face, he reached over and ended the recording. Ralph sat in silence for a few moments, before the radio burst to life. He hobbled towards it, clutching it in hand.
"Hello?"

All the man could do was listen as the horrors of what had happened at the lodge were shared with him. Shinoa was dead, Milly and Hector were badly hurt and the place was in shambles. All he could gather was that an infected David was the cause before he dropped the radio, cutting off the messenger. He stood here, motionless and pale for all of several moments before Ralph let out a primal scream, the news like a knife to the gut.

Tears were what followed as the man slumped to the floor in a heap.

However, the good Doctor did not wallow for long. He had somewhere to be and people to care for. Picking himself up and grabbing his cane he headed out, keys to the rental car in hand.

Mentioned: Rumble Fish (Milly) shadowz1995 (Hector)