Realistic or Modern The Decay(Accepting.RULES IN OVERVIEW)

[Lithium]

The Decay


THE RULES ARE IN THE OVERVIEW!

Location:Virginia

Month/Season:September/Autumn

2 months ago, July, was when it all started. What was reported as a new but non threatening virus became an epidemic. No one knows what truly caused this virus, but theories like some new avian flu, government experimental weapons, or aliens, cropped up everywhere. What was clear, was that the dead was rising again, and were feeding on the living. The military tried to hold off some highly populated areas, but by most accounts they failed. Civilians were forced to leave their homes, or highly populated zones because of the rampant spread of this virus. As they were torn apart from their friends and family, they were forced to seek out food and shelter before they could try and reconnect, but for most it was too late. This new world is something you must fight against, to rebuild, to survive. The question is, can you?

 

[Lithium]

Trudging along under the overpass, Jack constantly checked his surroundings with a sense of paranoia. With one hand gripped on his utility belt, near his holster, and the other around his backpack strap, he made his way to the wall of a nearby abandoned building and shimmied along to the corner. The sound of the dead could be heard around the corner, as many cities had been seemingly overrun with the dead. He turned his head and leaned to look around the corner and analyze the situation, with the surprise of the street scattered with the dead walking, and on appearing from just around the corner and taking ahold of him. Jack let out a gasp then fell to the floor with the zombie on top, biting down, trying to get at his face. Jack got a hand around the zombies neck and reached toward his belt for his baton. After a short but heated struggle, Jack armed himself with the baton and struck the zombie over the head constantly, until it stopped moving, but the thudding sounds of falling to the ground and the repeated baton to the scalp had drawn the attention of the other walkers and they began creeping over to his location.


Jack pushed the body off of him then rushed to get to his feet as a walker approached him reaching in for a meal. Swinging the baton, he hit the walker across the head and knocked it to the ground, but didn't seem to kill it as it had begun to rise again. Jack made a sprint through the scattered group, knocking them over or slipping past some to avoid getting surrounded, and made his way to a nearby alleyway. He then slid to a halt and let out "Ah!",as he had seen there were even more walkers in this alleyway. With the zombies gaining in on him from before, and the new group asserting their attention to him, he seemed surrounded. In the heat of the moment, he drew his pistol and fired four shots and the first few walkers, killing them and dropping their corpses to the ground, creating a sort of pile. The following walkers behind began stumbling over and then creating another pile, with them crawling to him. He used this time to spot a dumpster near a fire escape, and climbed on top of it, but the walkers from the street had now arrived one began grabbing at his leg, which cause Jack to immediately react and kick it directly on the snout, then make a leap of faith and jump for the ladder. Grabbing it with one hand, he swung the other to take hold of the ladder and began a frantic but successful attempt at pulling himself up to the floor of the fire escape. After a short while of a breather, he noticed through the window leading to the apartment room that it looked clear so he entered in. From there, he made his way through the apartment, rushing to make sure the door leading to the hall was closed, and upon arriving spotted a walker turn around to spot him. He ran to the door and closed it quickly, then made an attempt at barricading with a tipped over bookshelf and a couch as support, and fell to the ground, leaning against it in a sense of relief, as he felt he wasn't getting a break....and he wasn't.


From the bathroom and the bedroom stumbled out a female and a male walker, most likely a couple from before. "Oh come on", he let out before coming to his feet and quickly bashing the female walker across the head, but got taken ahold of by the male, who pushed him into the counter in the kitchen, causing Jack to drop his baton. Struggling with this walker, Jack reached for something on the counter, making contact with a coffee pot, and smashed it across its head, sending shards of the glass into its face and knocking it over. Jack then grabbed the rest of the coffee maker and began smashing its skull in, then knocking the recovering female walker over and doing the same for her. Then something unexpected happened for him. Moans came from the bedroom, and a small child trudged out. A little girl, in a dirty pale white dress, with bite marks around her calf and ankle. Jack looked up to her with a realizing horror, that she was already dead too, and that he would have to stop her. "N-..no...please...no", he let out as he began to tear up, as she drew near. He pushed her back as she got close and then grabbed his baton and swung at her child face knocking her on her back. Holding her down he began bashing in her skull repeatedly until the job was done, and he rose up, dropping his baton, and shook his head, then turned his gaze onto a mirror, seeing the blood all over him, his face, his hands, seeing what the world had made him have to do.


((Odds are my posts will never be this long again because Im lazy))

 

[Space Race]

Roy sat atop a tree, using the leaves as cover from whatever was on the ground. He sat still, hearing a Spook stumble by every so often. Once in a while, one would catch his scent and start scratching at the tree, until finally giving up and wandering away. He's been here since the night, and has been sitting here, still. A passing chickadee hovered above him, than landed on his lap. As it walked along over too where he rested his hand, it started nipping at the little crumbs laying on his palm. In one swift move, he grabbed it, and crushed it, placing it in hit pocket.​

"That's five." He silently uttered to himself before reverting back to his still form. He realized it would be a while before another one happens to land on his arm. He lifted the bottom of his mask, and took a bite of the raw bird, spitting out the feathers. He didn't have to enjoy it, he just had to survive. He made sure nothing was around to see his face, not even the tiniest gnat. After eating, he sat still... waiting.


((I tried to make it as long as Jack's but I just couldn't.))

 

[Dogehawk]

The old house seemed safe enough. Sleeping in the car was NOT a safe option, as she realised two nights ago. Since then, Samantha had stuck to using abandoned houses along the backstreets for temporary shelter on her long drive to South Bridge.


The walls were clean, a faint lemony yellow, and most of the furniture had been left untouched. Some cold tea mugs had even been left strewn on the counter tops, as if the previous owner had only been out for an afternoon stroll. The epidemic had affected everyone in different ways - some had fortified their houses, set up base camps, recruited in groups. other's simply left.. as was the case in this home.


A shuffling noise in the background caused her to tense up. Pivoting on her heels, she whirled around to come face to face with another 'one'. The old woman it once was gazing straight into her eyes "Fucking dammit." She cursed, raising her driver above her head -when suddenly the woman raised her hands in defence and cried "STOP!"


it was a survivor.


Samantha hastily scanned the room for any more lurking ghouls. Finding none, she turned back to the old woman watching her. "Are you hurt?"


"..yes, just on my left forearm."


Instantly her eyes averted to the welted mark near her wrist.


She was bit.


fucking. damnit.





"how long ago was this?"


"it's been two hours..."


And by the looks of you, you've only got one more hour left, She thought.


"Is there anybody upstairs?"


"no."


Without further ado, Sam helped the woman into the master bedroom of the house.


"What are you doing?" The old woman whimpered. her sweaty hands clasped around Samantha's shoulders.


"I'm treating your wounds... It's the least i can do. I was a doctor back in South Bridge before the virus hit." She paused and looked at the wound once again.


She'd read about it in books - she wasn't stupid - The zombie apocalypse brought an epidemic which was transferrable via bodily fluids. If one was bitten by the infected they would only have a limited time left to live based on their current health and status. Of course, this wasn't written in a Mayo medical journal, but it was all she had for reference in this time of need.


For Sam, working in a profession dedicated to saving lives was tough in a time where people had to kill to survive. But to her..what this meant was that any surviving life was worthy of attention - and she was going to give it all she got.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

If you work for any one government long enough, you see, you hear the strangest things. After a while you start to wonder just who is serving who. One day, those lines they tend to blur - and grey, well that becomes the new norm. A man who served the army, his country and his God knows how the system works. He knows, that at the end of the day...you all be serving the Man. Only the Man don't always want what is best for the people. No sir. Ever seen the long lines outside the soup kitchens. The many broken, shattered men that had served their country and then come home only to find that the country would not serve them. Now these same men, they were trained. Taught all the secrets, seen the horrors of war and botched foreign policy that served a goal to appease some sections of what we call the right wing. We are taught in our schools...brainwashed; that this is all for the good of the country. But all too often, its only to appease that one percent. The ultra rich. The men that make the guns that fall into the hands of the believers and those that seek to bring them down. Then there are those that make the weapons of the biological age. The ones that can bring a nation to its very knees, but they would not dare release it on their own home soil. They would not let such a cocktail of chemical destruction go rampant on God's own people. Or...has sin itself fed the greed of these same men...and now..God...has turned away from his children. Left them to suffer....the fate that they...brought upon themselves. War is Hell...but a living hell...is worse.

Rufus had served his nation with pride. Watched boys...not men, die alone in a distant land, clutching a picture of their sweetheart. Dreams whispered in their final breathes that never became fulfilled. That last war however, there was no honor. A man who knew nothing but the life of a soldier came back to a country that he didn't even recognize. His own family, they'd have nothing to do with him. Some lab coat flunky called it Post traumatic stress syndrome. Pills didn't work. Living in society? Nope, that near drove him crazy. But out in the wilderness. Places where man had not left its foul footprint. That was the only place that Rufus could breath. Where he could think. For a few years...it was his sanctuary. But like all good things, it would be spoilt. Spoilt by the same men, that had brought war to so many countries.

Our veteran had a two way, and he heard the chatter. Some man made virus getting loose in the city population. Rufus remembered, one quiet night by his camp fire. Was listening to some good old country songs, when the news broke. He just sat there, clutching his mug of whiskey. Unlike the folks of the big smoke, he had an advantage. Rufus could make ready for when the storm came.....and...it did.

6 months later.




It had been a long time, since Rufus had slept in the comfort of his RV. He'd ran out of gas and had to leave it behind off some of beaten track near a thick wood thicket. Rufus had lost count of the number of infected he had slain. Wearing his machetes slung across his back for easy reach, he made his way down through an old walking track. Hoping to find a source of fresh water. Water that had not yet been contaminated. The crunch of the autumn leaves under foot were the only sound he made. Rufus knew a way to regulate his heart rate and maximize his energy output during long days like these. With a keen eye, he kept a watch of the surrounding area. You just never knew when a lone walking corpse would cross his path. If it did...then may God bless him send the wretched back to his maker.

​

 

[Skink]

She was woken up by the sounds of loud, dragged foot steps against the leaf littered floor. She sat on her branch and watched. Despite her waist being tightly secured against the trunk of the tree using her scarf, the fear of falling from 15 feet high made her insides churn. They were a group in which what seemed like a family of four. A man, woman, and two children almost her age.


"What is he carrying..." She whispered. The walkers moved forward, not noticing she had spoken out loud. What she made out to be the 'Father', seemed to have been carrying something on his back. She peered in closer. "It's a baby carrier..." She said, a little louder than anticipated. The group looked up towards her, they turned and made their way to her tree. She knew that if she kept quiet, they would forget about her and move on, but knowing never did stop her from not feeling safe. Trembling, Callie took this chance to take a better look at the carrier. "Is there a baby? Oh i hope the baby is alive... What am i saying, what a horrible life to live! To sit, strapped against a monster's back... But what a horrible thing to wish, to hope that a baby is dead. Maybe someone saved the baby, maybe they're with better people, maybe-" She stopped mumbling. Her eyes widened, her mouth left slightly gaping open. She let out a small sob, in which she started to cry. The carrier held not a living, healthy child, but its body-less remains. "I should've known," She muttered, her words trembling alongside herself. She stared at the two children, gnawing and scratching against the tree trunk below her.


It isn't long. She thought. It isn't long before i become one of you.

 

[Lithium]

Blood, it was everywhere. The sounds of the dead outside of the barricaded door didn't seem to get Jacks attention as he sat in a corner, drowning in his own thoughts. One hand clutching his gun, and the other resting on his knee, he sat there staring over at the corpse of the child he had to beat to, well, death...again. He had never had to face a child who had turned to one of them, until now his encounters with them were brief, as he tried to avoid the situation. Now, he knew, there was no way to avoid this new world, and he had to try to ready himself for any sight. Jack turned his head to the door which separated himself from them, and realized that it wasn't over and that he had to push forward. After cleaning himself off he had to figure an escape route, for his initial destination was a small market just at the end of the street. Making his way onto the fire escape again, above the crowd of walkers reaching up for him, he walked up the stairs that led to the floor above the previous room, and peering in, noticed that it also seemed clear, like before, but this time he knew to expect them at any corner, and that to be a bit more quiet would go a long way.


Sliding the window open carefully, he slipped in, and kept to the walls the neared the bedroom. Grasping his baton, he edged his head around the corner to peer into the room...empty. Making his way along to the bathroom, and repeating the process...empty. In fact, the entire apartment room had been empty. It seemed that any walkers on this floor had been drawn to the sound of the previous confrontation, and moved to that location. Jack began creeping down the hall alert and aware of his surroundings, constantly checking into rooms that were open for any walkers, but seeing none. He then started down the steps that connected each floor and led to the exit, stepping over the clothing and trash that littered the steps, seemingly from people trying to flee but were unsuccessful. As he neared the open exit door, he eyed down the hall, seeing the group of walkers clawing at the door, looking for a meal that was no longer available. Leaving the apartment, he closed the door as quiet as he could, trying to contain the group in there so he wouldn't have to worry of them later. Jack decided to make his way around the opposite side of the apartment to stay away from the crowd still preoccupied around the alleyway. With the coast seemingly clear, he approached the market, hoping to find some a meal to hold him over the night.

 

[Space Race]

Still nothing. Roy thought while clutching his stomach. If those Undead Spook bastards didn't kill him, he would surely die of hunger. He would have to move from that spot soon. Heading toward the city would be an idea. Maybe an empty grocery store or an abandoned house would yield some results. These were just ideas though, and ideas without action mean nothing. He sighed while reaching into his pocket for another crushed bird. The sound of footsteps drew closer. “More of them.” He whispered silently to himself. But there was something odd about these footsteps. They were not irregular like the steps of a rotting Spook, there was a pattern in these steps. It couldn't be... he thought, putting the bird back into his pocket. He peered down from the branch, to see a man, still alive, walking towards god knows where. He saw the bloody machete on the man's back and knew that this man has killed something. Could've been a Spook, or an animal, maybe even a living person.


He waited until the man was a few dozen steps away before he descended from the tree. He followed the man, made sure to match the pattern of the man's footsteps as to not make a sound.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

There are the sounds of the forest, that are normal. Little critters scurrying about for food, birds in the trees, the rustle of leaves in the wind. The distant sound of water babbling over rocks in a pebble filled creek. After a few years, you get to know these sounds. They are like the symphony of nature. Nothing man made, just harmony of the elements and the fauna. A man like Rufus, he surprisingly still had good hearing, even after all that shelling and fire fights in the desert. As a survivalist, it paid to be attuned to your surrounds. Especially now.

For a time, the only sound that was not one of the forest, was his own. Though he was feeling it, after having gotten low on his water supplies. That dull thud of his heart beating was ringing in his ears. Rufus tried to focus on that sound in the distance of rushing water. After having studied the map back at his campsite, he was sure he was heading in the right direction, and been fortunate enough to not have any undead cross his path. Yet....

After passing under a large oak, with branches that shot off in all directions - the bushman had gone on about twenty paces, when he heard the light thud of something. Like a wild animal dropping out of a tree. It was enough to cause him to raise a brow, but then he just let out a slight grunt and continued to mosey on. At least...that is how he appeared. No turning of his head, just....kept on walking.

Reaching a clearing, Rufus pulled up by a large rock, and then muttered something about a boot lace. He bent over, with his right boot resting on an angle on a broken rock, and looked to be fixing his lace. However, under that hat of his, Rufus's dark eyes narrowed as he whistled an old tune.

​

@Space Race

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[Space Race]

Roy hid behind a tree. Dammit... I cant follow this guy through that... He thought. He sat and waited for the man to move so he could plan his next move. While he watched the man, a lone Spook grabbed him from the back. “Gah--!!” He pushed back and they both fell to the ground, Roy's back to the Spooker. He struggled to break free from the Spook's grasp by punching it in the body, but to no avail. As the Spook attempted to bite, Roy finally broke free and, by reflex, kicked it down as it started to get up. He pulled his wrench out from the side of his belt and bashed it's face in multiple times until it stopped moving. Killing them always took a lot of him. He always chose “Flight” rather than to fight. Shit. He thought as more Spooks crawled out from behind the trees. About seven more of them.


He never had to face this many of them. He charged in, wrench in hand, and took a swing at a Spook, knocking it to the ground. He knew he didn't hit hard enough, but there was no time to bash it's skull in. They closed in on him, and he knew he had no other choice. Sweating, panting and out of breath, he ran to where the man was hoping for his aid in fending off the Spook kind. Whoever this man was, whatever his motives were, whether he be villainous or kind, Roy knew that all living humans had one common enemy, and those were the rotting corpses which he referred to as “Spooks.” He looked at the guy, still masked, and waited for his response.

 

[Dogehawk]

"you're a demon and I hate you."


Not as bad as you, my friend


"Stop it. Stop it-"


You deserve to become one of them. FOOL.


FOOL.


THEY'LL TAKE YOU.


He wrenched his ears with his battered hands, dropping to his knees with a heavy thud to the Forest floor. His temples pulsed, beads of sweat already trickling down the canals of his sallow face.


He hated when it was quiet,


It was when the voices were the loudest.


BEHIND. Behind you, you deserve to die.


He winced again, cursing and screwing his eyes shut in desperation - anything to block out the noise, but the sound traveled and alerted the pair of walkers thirty feet from his left. They began to gargle as they slowly heaved themselves towards his direction.


Getting up on his feet, Nathan weighed his options.. He could either take them both on, or he could outrun them. Running away was a better option. Better. But during this time of night, who knew what kind of new company he would encounter next?


Too risky. I think you can beat em'


zero!mannakin whispered, and an ease of calm fell over Nathan. Finally, his brother was back, and this meant that he could be safe. Whenever his brother was around, the other voices stopped. They only returned once he was gone... which he tended to be for weeks on end.


"Calhoun's been hurting me again.."


Ahh fuck him! You've gotta get to those walkers, right? Two's not such a bad number, eh?


Nathan swallowed. Zero! Was right, but the problem lay in the fact that Nathan had never killed one of them before. he swallowed again, dryly, and wiped away at his brow as he watched the walkers intently from the bush he was crouched behind. They were getting closer, and now there wasn't any time to think anymore, and they were getting closer, and he kept thinking but he didn't know, closer, crowbar, but what if the plan didn't work, there's another bush over there, no but he couldn't think-


Where's your crowbar, dummy? zero! cooed.


"Right.. R-right." In a panicked haze, his palms found the metallic handle in time to bring it down on the walker. It gashed the ghoul straight down the shoulder, yet it appeared to have little to no avail. Grunting, Nathan thrusted the crowbar into its sternum, jerking back as it snapped its jaw near his bloodied hands. He let out a frightened yelp before drawing the crowbar out of its chest and slicing it into the zombie's neck. It gave a slopped crack before it slung backwards into its own spine. He watched wide eyed as The walker collapsed into a battered heap of blood and gore onto the floor.


Just as he recovered, The other zombie veered in from behind. Nathan hastily jutted out his foot, tripping the walker over. Without missing a beat he swung it overhead, breaking open its skull. An acrid, creamy smell hissed from the wound and seared into Nathan's nostrils. Gagging, he staggered backwards. Was it dead? He wasn't sure.. It didn't seem to be moving anymore.


His eyes darted between each body, taking in ever detail. The slick black sludge that oozed from every pore, the glassed eyes, and most of all the smell. Thick, Foul and bitter yet oddly creamy - a distinct aroma that brought him back to the hospital days. Patient excrement.


Without so much as a breath, he found himself on the floor, heaving the contents of his stomach onto the wretched scene before him. "There goes my albanol." He inwardly cursed. It was the only medication that kept him sane - but it came with a price.


A low moan in the distance caught his attention. Sluggishly, he drew his reddened eyes towards the sound only to find a small family band of walkers coming his way again. One was even wearing a baby carrier.


"I'm not.. I'm not ready for this." He panted as he rose from the ground where he lay. Staggering, he trudged towards them, arms weakly held limp at both sides, dragging the bloodied crow bar. His body splattered with meats, his face crusted in his own bile. His hair stenched with his own sweat and his fogged eyes glistening.


Looks like you really HAVE become one of them. Fool.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

Rufus was certain that someone, or something was following. His reason for stopping and to tie his laces, was merely a distraction so he could slide his hand down to curl his fingers around the leather threaded hilt of his short dagger. A weapon that if thrown with expert marksmanship could take out an enemy at ten paces with ease. The only thing was that as Rufus drew himself up sharply, he turned to see that this follower was being followed and caught by one of the undead walkers. Now, this was usually the part when the survivalist would simply just leave the poor bastard to his fate. It didn't pay to get between a living and a flesh eater. What did he care? Rufus twirled his blade in his hand, and was about to just keep on with his quest for water, when the sound of low groans and further slow dragging feet through the damp earth was heard. God Dammit! Rufus thought, as it appeared that this lone flesh eater was part of a bigger group.

The man that had dropped from one of the trees that he had walked under, had just managed to evade being breakfast by one of the walkers, but saw sense when a herd of the creepers were coming in his direction. With terrified eyes behind that mask, the man made a run straight for Rufus for help. He was still holding a foul goo covered wrench in his hand, from having used it on the first walker's head. Rufus knew enough that if you didn't remove the head, then they could get right on back up and start after you again. Also firing his shot gun at that many would simply bring out more. He had other weapons that he could use, but against this many...in this location. Not an option. They had one advantage. They were faster on land.

"Run.."




One word...and one only. That was all that the former marine would shout. There was a creek not far, he was sure of it, and if they could make it then at least they could escape them, with a little trick that Rufus knew. Still clutching his blade in his hand, the marine started running. Whether the other was going to take his order, was up to him. If it was one thing that Rufus was good at, it was sprinting, even with a heavy pack on his back. This came from years of active service and training.

The seven walkers started after them on mass, but with the forest being as dense as it was, with the many rocks and trees with full foliage, it made the going slower for them.

As Rufus broke through the clearing about five minutes into the mad run, he was shocked to see that he was spot on about the creek, only it was more rapids than a gently flowing water course. Making it over the slimy wet rocks, he stood at the water's edge and turned his head back to the man that may well be following. Rufus crouched but for a second, to slam his dagger back into his boot, before calling back to the man.

"Hope you can swim!"




Maybe he was crazy, but he jumped into the water, and was immediately swept towards what looked to be a large waterfall....one that had a twenty metre drop.

​

@Space Race

 

[Dogehawk]

Forty five minutes had passed and there was no improvement. The woman (known as Elle dorado) went through several hot and cold flushes. Her breathing was now shallow, and her throat thick with dark mucus. The bandage sam had tightly fastened along her arm had been soaked twice through, and the compression band did no help. It appeared as though the wound had eaten itself out on its own.


"How long do I have left?" Elle rasped.


Sam paused, and slowly exhaled. "Fifteen minutes..."


Elle closed her eyes, as if bracing herself. It took all the courage in sam not to break down in tears. Palliative care was never her strong point.. And it seemed as though there was nothing she could do except help make Elle comfortable enough for death.


"Is there anything else I can do?" She offered.


"Yes, there's a photo frame over there to your right. Mind if you ... Put.. It on my lap." The last words came out forced.


Nodding, Sam did as she was told.


the woman continued "it makes me feel as though I still have a family left." She looked on in silence. "Where are yours?"


"I uh, I don't really talk to them anymore." Sam kept her eyes to the floor


"Isn't it hard being alone?"


"I kind of prefer it. It's freeing."


Elle chuckled and reached for sam's hand "Well..My apologies, but I thank you for giving up your alone time to stay by my side, doc." She smiled weakly.


More time passed. "Five more minutes." She whispered.


Suddenly, The hand around here tightened as panic settled into Elle's once calm features. Her breathing increased rapidly. Finally, she turned to shoot Samantha a desperate look.


"Kill me."


"W-what?"


"Kill me now."


"No.. I.. I don't understand"


"PLEASE. I DONT WANT TO TURN INTO ONE OF THEM." Her eyes were now wide open and bloodshot.


"I CAN'T - ITS NOT SANE.. I.."


"doc, I don't want to suffer..." She was weeping now.


"This is euthanasia - the Hippocratic oath doesn't-"


"I DONT HAVE TIME FOR YOUR MEDICINE - PLEASE, DONT LET ME TURN." Her panic rose to an all time high "USE THE DRIVER" she pleaded


Shaking, her hands went to the handle of the gold club. She stood up, her legs feeling like jelly as she slowly raised it above her head.


"JUST ONE BLOW AND IT WILL BE OVER"


but the image of battering the old woman froze her


.. All the blood, the horror


She refocused her thoughts.


"One.."


She breathed


"Two.."


Her eyes found the temple of Elle's forehead. Her heart lurched-


"Three."


She couldn't do it.


She dropped the club, trembling lips mouthing the words I'm sorry as she ran towards the door.


"no.. NO. Come back - you can't do this to me!" Tears streaked her face as she locked the door behind her and shoved the sofa in front to barricade it. Inside she could hear the terrored cries of Elle, begging for her to come back, to kill her. They no longer formed words - just sounds. Sooner enough silence fell. And then the groans began.

 

[Lithium]

Peering through the dust covered window to the small market, Jack eyed out to see if any walkers were creeping around, and if so how many. Not being able to spot any, he opened the door and made his way in, eyeing out the shelves for anything he could salvage, but mostly came up empty. As Jack made his way toward the counter, he spotted a can of what looked like soup. "Yes!", he thought to himself, as he hoped that it was full and that he could fill his stomach with it. Stepping over the trash that was strewn around the place, Jack neared the can, when suddenly a sitting walking made a lunge for his leg. Grabbing hold, the walker went in for a bite, but unsuccessful as after Jack gasped at the scare, he swung the baton down with such force that upon striking its head, it slammed into the ground and broke its nose and teeth. Jack realized it wasn't over when the walker picked up its smashed face and began turning to him, but Jack giving it no time, began stomping its head until he crushed its contents. Still a bit shaken up, he quickly reached for the can and backed away, checking his corners in a reasonable but paranoid way.


Arriving at the counter, Jack shook the can and was filled with relief as it had been full, with no cracks or holes that could have made the meal contaminated. After stuffing it in his bag, he searched behind the counter for anything useful, finding only a yellow pages book which he stuffed into his bag after eyeing through it for the nearest police station. Jack soon took to the backdoor and exited out into the back parking lot and began heading in the direction of the police station, another 7 treacherous blocks away. A walker that had the look of a homeless man in its previous life was alerted to Jack and began getting up for a fast food meal, but a grunt and repeated baton cracks to the skull was the only thing he received fast.

 

[Space Race]

Roy did as commanded and followed the stranger. Why didn't he stand and fight? It was only 7 walkers, and he looked like a guy who could hold his own, especially with Roy's help. Well, it didn't matter because they were already on the move. Roy checked his surroundings and saw more and more of the Spook kind emerging from behind the trees. It was a herd. There were too many to fight, but they were walking, and we were running. Soon after we gained some distance from them, Roy saw the man jump into the water. Wait, water? Was this where he was headed? Roy was confused, is the man from here? If he is then it would be understandable as to how he knew where to find this body of water. If he wasn't from here, maybe he has been to this creek before... If that wasn't true, then he must have known about it somehow... Was he just that good at tracking this stuff?


Roy didn't want to be this man's ally, or worst. When this was over, who knows what may happen. Roy looked to the distance, and saw a waterfall. Perfect. He thought while smiling under his mask. “Hey!” He called to the stranger. “You may not survive this, and quite frankly I don't care, but I'm not sticking around to find out whether you live or die.” Roy looked to the distance and saw the herd gaining fast. He climbed the nearest tree and watched as the herd of Spookness passed by and walked off into the Creek. Even if he survives... those Spooks will emerge from the water and finish him off. There's nothing that can be done.


As the Spooks walked by, some catching his scent and stopping to gnaw at the tree, he sat and waited for them to leave.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

The current was indeed fast, the water practically white, and with the large rocks that stood out of the crest of the waves, negotiating this was hard enough. In fact, it was easier just to let the current take you, than wasting energy trying to fight it. While the man following Rufus had no intention of joining the ex marine in his dramatic getaway, he instead decided to climb a nearby tree as opposed to risking his life in the treacherous waters. His perch in the branches, would give him good ground clearance from the likes of the hoard, that had now split into two groups - as one tried to follow the marine into the waters. The other stopped by the large tree trunk and clawed at it, soulless eyes staring up hungrily at the man who for now was relatively safe.

Those zombies that made it to the rocks, found that they were not as easy to clamber over, due to the fact they were incredibly slippery, what with the moss covering and the slime of algae on their surface. This caused a couple to slip and fall, leaving them to have to try and crawl to the water's edge. The others that made it into the water, found themselves taken by the force of the water and were bobbing like crazed apples as they flailed after the marine, who was approaching the edge of the waterfall. Seeing the oncoming zombies, that were trying to reach out as they were being brought closer, he realized that the chances of survival of going over the edge may be slim, and right at the last moment, he saw a large tree bough that jutted out of the waters, possibly a much larger log that got wedged by a few of the rock like boulders that were underneath the water. In the dying seconds, he grabbed onto the branch, swinging his leg up, only to have a zombie be swept past him at speed and then disappear over the waterfall. The look on its face as it vanished through the spray could be comical, if one had a dark sense of the macabre.

Rufus then managed to right himself onto the log, as another zombie was coming, and this time the zombie was in striking distance. Wet and puffed, Rufus managed to get to his feet, and then reached behind him for one of his machete's that he drew out from its sheath. The zombie reached out to try and catch hold of the log, only to have Rufus slam down the machete upon the zombie's wrist - cutting the hand clear off, and sending the zombie to its possible end as it too went over the waterfall.

On the bank, you could see the remaining two zombies trying to stand up and repeatedly falling over upon themselves. It must have been a real sight for the man...who was now stuck in the tree.

​

@Space Race

​

 

[Skink]

She pulled up her legs against her chest, despite being out of reach from the walkers, letting her legs dangle wasn't a risk she was ready to take. She didn't know what to expect from these monsters, and today wasn't the day she was going to test their limits. Through her watery eyes and misty vision, Callie saw another figure slowly making their way in her direction.


"Not again, not again, not again..." She muttered through her sobs. She watched as they gained closer, it was a young man. Unlike any other walker she has come across since the outbreak, he was the first to be holding a weapon. "Oh no... What is he gonna do with that? Can they actually use weapons? Callie, maybe you should run! But i have no where to go... I can reach the next tree but i could fall..." Callie kept mumbling to herself whilst eyeing down the new addition to the group under her tree.


But then it happened. The new walker, not even 3 meters near the family, attracted their attention. The group's head spun around and slowly turned away from her tree. Callie was frozen.


Can they turn against each other? She thought. It was then that she realized that the walker, wasn't a walker at all. He brought up the crowbar to his shoulder, facing the family trudging towards him. Fear struck her fast. She untied the scarf around her waist and stuffed it into her backpack. Immediately she got up and jumped towards the next tree, heading towards the man's direction.

 

[Space Race]

Roy paid no attention to the man's struggle. All he focused on was dealing with the pile of Spook below him. After some thought, he climbed higher into the tree, until he was no longer seen. The branches along with the leaves blocked their Spooky view of him. After a good fifteen minutes, when he was sure they couldn't see him anymore, (although they were still biting at the tree) he tried to find something he could use to distract them. Breaking twigs off of the branches would be too noisy. The only thing he could think to do was to use his food, the dead birds. Using one wouldn't make much of a noise, so he had to use all of them.


Roy pulled the drawstring out of his hoodie, and used it to tie the birds together. After eyeing down a good enough spot that would make a sound, he threw the birds in a far off direction. Wait... he thought, puzzled. After listening closely, all he heard was the sound of the water. “Fuck!” he whispered softly. It's not uncommon for people to drown out noise like that, but that didn't stop it from being louder than a few dead birds hitting some random area of the ground. I won't die here... he thought, while looking around for another plan.


There were at least 9 Spooks, gnawing at the tree. These were the few that didn't follow the man into the Creek, not counting the 2 that stayed behind. Roy looked over, and all he could think to do was to use the trees to escape, but how could he do something like that without screwing up? It doesn't matter, he was not determined to die, not yet. He climbed up a little more, and saw that there were a few tree's lined up for him to jump across. Heh...I guess I'm the Spook now... he thought, chuckling to himself a bit. After crawling across the branches, he leaped across to the next tree, and grabbed a hold of the branches.


Roy was always failing gym class, and he only now realized the reason why. He slipped, falling through the branches like the idiot he was. The Spooks quickly noticed this, and changed position. Before falling to their grasp, he landed belly first on the last branch.


Lucky to be alive, and still hurting from the fall, he planned his next move. He looked over to the Creek, and could only barely see the man, as he was hundreds of meters away. This was no time to rest.


He looked down and saw the Spookiness. He also knew that Spooks didn't run, they walked. I only have one option.... With that thought, he jumped to the ground behind the pile of Spook, and bolted, while limping, toward the opposite direction of the creek. He would regret doing this later, as the pain won't go away for a long time. He didn't care, he just kept running.

 

[Dogehawk]

The sofa couldn't hold the zombie of elle in there forever, Samantha thought. Hurriedly, she scampered downstairs and rummaged through her cupboard to see what was inside. Dried tea leaves, fish oil tablets, bread - tempting.. but it would spoil easily - jams, arrowroot biscuits and canned soups. She took the biscuits and soups. "Cream of mushroom, huh?"


She shoved the goods into her knapsack, wiping away at the extra crumbs that fell onto her denim jeans.


Peering into the cupboard once more, she found a flash of blue tucked into the back corner. Pushing aside the rest of the junk, she reached in only to pull out a familiar plastic bottle. ENSURES! "God, i miss these." She giggled to herself. She used to supply these to the patients during ever rounds check. Not only did they provide the necessary energy to survive - they tasted extra good, so she ensured to fill her knapsack with as many of the drink she could find. All. Four. Flavours. Damn this woman was stocked!


Glancing around, she unscrewed the plastic cap and drew a long, hard swig at the creamy drink. She sighed. It was her first shot at bliss in a while.


But that was soon shattered when the moans of elle snapped her back into reality. it was when she watched somebody die and turn before her eyes that the predicament of the apocalypse dawned on her. These weren't just ghouls. These were people - unique people with families, and jobs, and ambitions. These were people with problems, and flaws and unfulfilled wishes and responsibilities. ..And every single one of them...


Dead.


Gone.


Wasted.


What if it happened to her? Would she feel complete? Would she feel even anywhere near accomplished with what she had done?


Sure.. she graduated Med school and that something most people couldn't. She got nominated class captain, scored a birdie when she was 12 and managed to even have a boyfriend at one point. She spent the last 12 years of her life living off of her independence, with the first 15 wasted trying to fit in and belong.


Then here she was now.


And suddenly everything she seemed to have done felt futile.


She was lost, and afraid and unsure.. but most of all - for the first time in a long time ... she felt lonely.


a single tear made its way along her left cheek before she swiped it away. Everything is going to be okay, she told herself. What happened to just You and Me like we'd always been? We can make it.


We can make it.


Her voice choked, and her drained body slumped across the wall.


We .. we can make it..


She whispered hoarsely, and the tears fell unbidden. Slowly she slid down, and sat with her knees tucked against her chest as if she were a little girl. She cursed inwardly as she firmly placed her hands against her face to shield people from looking at the lonely, empty mess that was her.


But there was nobody there.


Only 'You and Me'.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

There was no denying the force of Mother nature when one tries to battle against the elements. But when you have multiple zombie walkers that were trying to end you, it turned out that this same dangerous force could become a powerful ally. If you were lucky enough not to get swept away yourself. Rufus had taken that chance. A dare that found him now standing, though precariously upon a battered log that was somehow well wedged between the rocky crags that were beneath the white rapids. Our ex marine looked like he had just near drowned, breathing heavily after not only managing to crawl out from the torrent to relative safety, but also fended off a passing zombie, who lost a hand to the quick thinking Rufus. Looking back up river, he could just see the pack that had gathered around that tree that the hooded man had scampered up. Rufus was really in no position to try and save his ass. Not from where he was standing. He still had to get to the safety of the rocky shore, and that was going to take some skill, effort and a whole lot of luck. While he didn't like leaving some poor wretch to die a horrible death, his own survival was the priority. Who knows, maybe this guy had managed to stay alive this long, he might have had enough in him to keep going.

Getting a good footing, Rufus re sheathed his machete and then began the daunting task of making his way across the log, trying not to topple off and fall back into the strong current of the rapids. It was arduous going, but with gritted teeth and determination, he made it to a large rock where there was about a four metre distance to the shore line. Taking a true leap of faith, he managed to propel himself forward - clinging to rocks and pulling himself back up safely onto what was dry land. While much of his back pack was wet, the interior lining would have protected his most prized of personal affects. As soon as he had made it to the next point on the map, he would be needing to make a good fire and dry out all of his clothes. Before leaving the swollen river, he took his water bottle and filled it, before hanging it back over his shoulder.

Back on the other side of the river, the man that had made it up the tree could no longer be seen. Perhaps he had got away after all. Chances that they would ever cross paths again were highly unlikely....but then again, who knew what tomorrow would bring.

Rufus adjusted his straps on his back pack, and started off again - compass in hand.

​

 

[KayIa]

Kyle looked out at the sky contentedly. He may not have much left in this cruel world, but he still had his life and that meant the world to him. He had survived the many dangers that had chased him in the normal world, and now he was surviving the dangers that chased him in this apocalyptic world- and he was grateful for that. Not to mention that there weren't any thugs to have to hide from, just the undead and the cruel- but they didn't specifically target him with utter hatred. Bruno had tracked the kid who had caused him so much trouble to a small town, but he wasn't entirely sure where he was. "Knowing that little brat, he's probably cowering in someone's basement..." He thought out loud. So it took him by surprise when he saw the boy's face poking out of a window belonging to a cute little blue house. "Gotcha now kid..." He grinned with unnerving happiness.


Kyle swore he heard someone say something, but he figured it was either just his imagination or the wind. He played with the large hunting knife he'd found not long ago. Too bad I don't know how to use this effectively... Kyle had almost always chosen flight over fight and hardly knew how to even hold weapons, much less use them. Bruno broke into a sprint towards the little blue house, being sure to stay out of the boy's view. He snuck in through the back and carefully made his way to where the boy had his head stuck out a window staring out at the sky and playing with some big knife that Bruno knew he didn't know how to use. He grinned almost inhumanly.

 

[HamSammich]

Carver Romero


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/57a8c6dc987b2_FullSizeRender(8).jpg.ec440ace00dc8f129ed64c45ed115acc.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="96797" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/57a8c6dc987b2_FullSizeRender(8).jpg.ec440ace00dc8f129ed64c45ed115acc.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


Location- Outskirts of Quantico, gas station


With- Avalon





The sounds of thumping on the window woke Carver up from a fitful sleep. He had worked for days to secure the windows and doors of the small station, and it was a damn good job if he did say so himself. He sat up and rubbed sleep from his eyes, before looking to Ava, who was sleeping on a cot that he had found a few blocks over. He carefully analyzes her face, her small button nose and full lips, the cascade of freckles all along the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and her cheek smudged with dirt. He smiles to himself and stands. How had it only been three days since he found her? And if he hadn't..what would have become of her? She was exhausted, sleeping 16 hours right after he had brought her here, then ate half his food supply. But ironically, he didn't care. He had grown extremely fond of the young girl, finding her soft spoken voice attractive, and that had surprised him. He was trying to figure out how to survive, not fall in love. But was there really a way around it with her?

He stands up, checks the clip in his pistol, then his rifle. A full clip in each and a box of extra bullets for each..I'm going to have to find more soon. He learned a few things being on his own. A hard strike to the dome put them down. Basically any kind of damage to the brain of the lifeless fucks and they fell like a sack of potatoes. He learned to conserve his ammo from the start, knowing that it was going to be a miracle every time he found some. He pulls out his 8 inch blade, found on a walker that looked like a homeless man before the outbreak. He had been using that instead of the gun, it draws to much attention to himself.


Carver walks over to the window, catching a look at the walker outside, then carefully opens the barricaded screen he had created, his knife coming down hard on the crown of its head. Its lifeless body fell to the pavement and Carver takes a look around for more of them. When the coast seems clear, Carver grabs his small duffel bag and crawls through the window, latching it tightly behind him. Keeping his knife in hand, he walks towards the open garage across the street. He had been lucky last night, opening it and finding a battered old Chevy truck. With a few tweaks to the engine, it started right up. He tosses the bag into the bed, then takes a small inventory count of their findings. A bag of food, mostly protein bars and snacks versus actual food. That was the next thing to scout for. A backpack full of clothes for them both and a satchel stuffed with fresh water. It wouldn't last them long, he knew. But they were doing alright compared to the few other living people he had come across. Carver takes another look around before quickly walking back to the station and sliding back inside. He latches the window before walking back towards the girl who sleeps like the dead.


He leans over Avalon and, with a very light hand, brushes her hair from her face, then softly cups her cheek.


"Ava..We're going to have to leave this place. Wake up, lets get on the road."




Avalon


Location- Outskirts of Quantico, gas station


With - Carver


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/57a8c6dca4cda_FullSizeRender(7).jpg.4641002e9071e7643153d229234582b4.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="96798" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/57a8c6dca4cda_FullSizeRender(7).jpg.4641002e9071e7643153d229234582b4.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


Avalon wakes from her dreams, squinting her eyes up at the handsome face she had been waking up to for the last three days. She keeps her face blank as she sits up, hearing his words but not quite comprehending. It had been a long, hard journey to get here, but she was finally starting to feel recovered. Her legs no longer ached and her back didn't feel like she got ran over anymore. She guesses the fogginess in her head would leave soon, or maybe the mild migraine would never be gone, staying because of the horrors it has had to witness. She produces a small smile for him, tucking her unruly hair behind her ear.


"Time to go already? You already packed the truck?" Her voice broke slightly, still not fully awake yet.


"Yes, everything besides the cot." Carver responds, releasing a smile of his own. "And no walkers outside. We better hurry and get on our way. Get dressed, Ill be waiting outside."





She shudders at the word walkers as he turns his back and exits through the window. Avalon tried to not be afraid, tried very hard, but she was terrified. The day after she arrived, she surprised Carver with the news that she had never actually killed one before and he had decided to teach her.


"One blow to the head," He had said. "Use all your strength and rip that fucker in half. I know you can do it Avalon, you just have to believe you can too."


And she had tried. Screamed while she did it, started to cry, but she had swung that knife down as hard as she could. Apparently it wasn't hard enough. Carver had it secured to a post, so there was no immediate danger but..Skulls, even half dead skulls, were pretty hard to penetrate. Carver made it look effortless, like a Greek god winging down his wrath to man kind. But in truth, its not easy.


Avalon stood from the cot, turning around to quickly pull the ends together and close it up. She reaches for her shoes and slides them on, then a dark green Pink Floyd hoodie she found in a store down the street. Grabbing the pistol she didn't know how to use, she tucks it in the waistband of her jeans. Carver had mentioned target practice when we get further away from the city, but she couldn't actually picture herself killing something with it. With a last look around the dingy gas station that had become their temporary home, she releases a sigh. Until we meet again.. She picks up the heavy cot and half drags it to the window, smiling softly as a dark tattooed arm reaches through and tugs it through. She slips out behind it, automatically latching the window closed, then follows Carver to the truck.


It feels strange, almost like a normal road trip instead of almost everyone they know being dead and actually running for their lives. As they hop in the stuffy cab, Avalon takes a deep breath. I'm ready for whatever happens. I'm ready for whatever happens. Then she looks over to Carver. What was to become of her if he got taken? Eaten? Bitten? Could she survive on her own? Probably not. She hadn't told him that he had saved her from herself. That she planned to die that night that he found her. She was going to give up. And she probably never would. Why should she? He'd only be upset.


In a brave action for herself, she reaches over to take his hand, knitting her small dainty fingers with his dark tanned long ones. He smiles at her, backing the truck out of the garage and drives down the road, squeezing her hand in reassurance.



​

 

[Dogehawk]

Nathan Syks


"Oh my god, oh god, oh god, oh god.." Nathan wailed as the zombies crawled closer. Instinctively, he raised his hands to claw at his head but paused when he realised they were still covered in blood. blood wasn't a nice feeling.


His heart started palpitating as he loosened his grip on the crowbar.


The voices were getting zoned out, like the crackle on TeeVee, and his vision was starting to blur. The creatures were inching in, inching in, inching in. This was doing his head in. he might as well give up now, he thought. He was tired, anyway.


Suddenly a shimmer in the tree line caught his eye.


Glancing up, he saw the glint of a small figure crawling towards the edge of a pine tree branch. He couldn't make out its features through the foliage, but he could tell it was small.


"Ggggrraglebarble" the zombie went.


Well gragglebarble gazzle to you too, Nathan giggled as he backed up shortly to try and get a better glimpse of the possum.


Without a blink, the figure suddenly JUMPED OUT! and landed on the other tree branch!! AAAH! It was a girl! and it was coming towards him!!!


He gasped. Was she A saviour? OH A SAVIOUR! that'd be so cool.


and like a manic Stevie nicks, he waved his arms frantically and shouted for her to come down and help.


Until the daddy zombie clambered behind him, knocking themselves both over. Like a manic Stevie nicks.

 

[Skink]

"Oh no, Oh no," Callie shouted, her voice shaking. The father walker laid flat against the man, the monster using its every bit of strength to just take a bite off the man's face.


"HELP ME," The man cried. She didn't know what to do. The family was close behind, still near her previous tree.


"Oh god!" Callie shouted as she jumped down. The barely unnoticeable feeling of safety she felt above ground left her completely, and to her, that was all she had that kept her going. The father whipped his head around and grabbed her scarf, he tugged on it, pulling her in. Callie screamed, took off her scarf and pulled back.

 

[HamSammich]

View media item 4214
Avalon Jameson


Location - On the 619 highway, heading North West.


With- Carver





Avalon woke up suddenly with the bump of the truck. She notices her body is slumped against Carver's warm body, his arm around her shoulder securely. Rubbing her eyes, she looks up to Carver, his eyes looking to her for a moment, a small smile on his face before he looks back at the road. She looks out the window into the night, reading a passing sign that says they're passing Prince William Forest Park.


"Oh goodness..how long did you let me sleep?" She looks to him. "How far have we gone? You should have let me take a turn driving." Just as the words fell from her mouth, they hit something, someone, hard with the front of the truck. Carver tries to keep control of the wheel but loses it when the truck squeals and turns to the right, ramming hard into the guard rail and flipping over onto the hood.


After a few moments, Avalon opens her eyes. Her breathing is fast and she realizes that shes laying on the pavement a few feet away from the upside down truck. Groaning, she moves each finger and each toe slowly, making sure she hasn't hurt anything. With very much effort, she sits up from the cold concrete almost screaming at the sudden pain in her shoulder. Looking down, she sees that its been dislocated. She lets out a whine, a few tears falling from her eyes, then slowly starts scooting toward the truck, speaking softly but urgently.


"Carver..C-Carver please..hello?"




Carver Romero


Location- Highway 619


With- Avalon

Everything was fine. Avalon had taken his hand, then fall asleep leaned against him in the small cab of the truck. And he wasn't complaining! It had been..normal. And easy. Sure he was getting quite tired of driving by the end of it, but he wasn't the type to complain or give up. Who knew where they were driving? They were just going.


And then he couldn't remember. Couldn't remember how he ended up buckled into the seat, hanging upside down and hurting. A lot. But when Carver opened his eyes, he recognized the cab of the truck. He looked around wearily, his eyes searching for Ava but unable to find her. He hears her soft voice, his head turning to the left and seeing her small frame crawling towards him. Carvers eyes widen as he takes in the whole scene. Behind her and he sees the walker. Stumbling over its own feet and gurgling its words, it moves towards Avalon with a sense of determination.


"Ava! Turn around! Get him behind you!"


He struggles in the seat belt, grunting in pain as his achy muscles tell him not to move and then looks towards Avalon again. He catches a glimpse of his knife, the long 8 inch blade on the pavement between them.


"The knife Ava! Grab the knife! You know how I taught you, you have to do it now. Please Ava, I know you can!"




Avalon





Letting Carver's words seep in, Avalon whips her head around, looking at the Walker about 10 feet in front of her. She lets out a scream and scrambles for the knife, her shoulder seemingly forgotten as the


adrenaline takes over her body. She struggles to her feet, her breath coming in quick gasps. Gripping the knife with both hands, she stares the walker in his cold, dead eyes. I can do this. I can do this. For Carver. Squealing slightly in effort, she runs at the zombie and slashes hard through the air, cutting its neck and sending it backwards onto its back. Avalon sobs softly, her arm screaming in pain as she stumbles over to the zombie. Using the last of her strength, she brings the knife down roughly on top of its head.


With a deep breath, she looks around. Noticing some walkers down the road a bit, she quickly turns around, stumbling towards the truck. Avalon notices the seat belt strapping him in, reaching over with the knife to cut the strap.


Carver falls out of the seat, then scrambles out of the truck cab. Grabbing his bag with the guns and ammo, he then grips her good arm and they run for the trees together.
​