Realistic or Modern The Beginning of the End (of the World)

[RealisticFantasy]

Her feet hurt. She was exhausted. And, now? Now it was raining. Well, it was more of a drizzle but that was beside the point. Things were getting worse with every step she took and it certainly wasn't helping that now all she had was herself. Herself and... She places on her hand on her stomach with a sigh as she returns to the problem that she was trying to figure out earlier.


Water, food, shelter. The three words race around Alex’s mind as she tries to recall the ‘proper’ order. Food, water, shelter? Shelter, water, food? She had watched a survival show not too long before the outbreak. It had said something about those three being the priorities in survival. “Damn it!” She shouts in frustration before going wide-eyed at her mistake. She spins on her heels to survey the area, checking to see if anyone – or anything – heard. The familiar shuffle of the brain dead greets her silence and she slips into the doorway of a nearby building. She holds her breath, releasing an arrow into the first sight of flesh. She lowers her bow and leans out to check her surroundings before continuing on her way.


She walks along the street steadily but quickly with her bow hung over her shoulder. This part of town was generally safe from the walking vegetables. But, that made it all the more dangerous due to bandits and looters. Pulling the arrow from the eyeball of her victim, she flinches slightly at the sight and the sound. She pulls a cloth from her pocket, cleaning off the blood of the arrow, careful not to come in contact with the blood at all. The girl was probably only in her preteens. But, this was not a time for sympathy. And, those people... Well, they weren't people any more.


She places the cleaned arrow back in her quiver, dropping the rag to the ground. Better safe than sorry. She looks up to the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun. There was only a few hours of daylight left which meant that shelter was now her top priority, regardless of what know-it-all claimed was most practical in theory. She sighs, glancing around as a hand flits nervously to her stomach. "It'll be okay. It'll be okay." She looks down and whispers softly, "I'm sorry that this is your world now..."

 

[Nephalem]

"Barbas?" The small girl whispered questioningly as she stood outside of a a closed off shop. It was a convenience store, an unlooted one by the looks of it. The whole place was boarded up, every entrance and exit was closed off and bolted shut. There was no signs of forced entry, only a hole too small for any human to fit in. That's why Elijah was currently pressed against the slate gray metal back door, listening for any signs of movement and awaiting its opening. Barbas had crawled through the hole to unlock the door, a task they had practiced since this whole thing began. Usually everything went smoothly, but usually Elijah could peek through the windows and see if it was safe for him to enter. Her hands twitched impatiently, only clutching tightly onto a big hunting knife. It's blade was speckled with old, brown, viscus blood from her last encounter with one of those 'things'.


"Come on Barbas!" Elijah whisper yelled as she threw a glance over her shoulder. She was anxious to get out from the creepy ally she was standing in, and she was beginning to worry for Barbas' safety. She heard a yell, not too close but close enough to send her heart into overdrive. A pain shot through her chest and she grabbed at her heart with her free hand. She didn't care if that was the yell of an uninfected or infected, both of them were monsters to her. She turned back to the door with a newly-found motivation. Her blue eyes were wide with fear as she tried the door handle again, more frantically this time. "Barbas, seriously! If you're eating something instead of opening the door I'm going to be so salty with you!"


A sudden high pitch cry came from the store and the tumbling of many objects. The familiar hungry moaning of the infected sparked up a moment after the sounds, and from what Elijah could tell, there was a lot of them.


"Barbas!" Elijah was screaming now, uncaring of who or what was listening. Barbas's shrieks blended in with the gurgles and hisses of the monsters inside. Elijah threw herself against the metal door, attempting unsuccessfully to get it open. "No! No no! Barbas!" She slammed the butt of her knife against the door, crystal clear tears beginning to flood her childlike eyes. In the next second her knife was throw onto the ground and her hand grasped the cool metal of her gun's handle. She aimed it at the lock on the door, suddenly caring little for her bullets and the noise she was creating, and fired.


The door flew open with a single tug from Elijah and her panicked companion leaped onto her, clutching at the back pack straps that clung firmly to her shoulders. She noticed that the store was full of empty, toppled over shelves, and packed with rabid infected that had their glossy eyes set on her. It seemed like before this, before they fell victim to the disease that infected almost everyone in the world, they had gathered here with the intentions of outlasting the virus. One of them must have been infected. 'How selfish of them' is what Elijah would have though if she had stayed around to look at them. Instead, after her little primate leaped onto her, she jumped off of the three cement steps leading up to the door, swooped up her knife and tore down the ally and into the street like there was no tomorrow, which there wouldn't be if she didn't manage to escape.


She could hear them following her, the hoard of gasps and growls behind her told her that much, but she was determined to get out of this alive. She curled an arm protectively around Barbus, making sure he was secure to her body as she sprinted for her life. How odd it must look, a thirteen year old, hobbit sized girl being chased by a pack of carnivorous people-looking monsters with an emperor tamarin clinging to her chest. If she wasn't aware of how serious the situation was she would have laughed. Little did she know she was running straight towards the yelling she heard only minutes ago.

 

[Kestrel]

The auburn haired woman rolled over on the stretcher. Her two dogs, an Irish Wolfhound and a Belgian Malinios cross lay on the floor on either side of her. The three of them were in the back of an ambulance. Their owner turned over again and whimpered slightly, making both dogs stand up, attentively searching for what was scaring their owner. Finally, the Belgian Malinios, Koda, licked her hand. When he failed to rouse Phoenix, he put his front paws on the stretcher and barked in her face.


She sat up and yelped, then looked around. The former paramedic sighed in relief as she took in her surroundings. Her dogs were safe, she was safe, the ambulance was safe, and most importantly the trio was alone. "Thanks y'all. Just another bad dream," she muttered, ruffling the fur on Koda's head. Koda and the other dog, Angus, wagged their tails. "I suppose we should get up anyway,'' she decided, rubbing her face with her hands. Despite being of Irish descent, she spoke with a southern twang, not an Irish accent. Phoenix sat up and stretched, wincing at her bruised and battered body.


"Sit. Wait." Both dogs sat and watched her, waiting for their next command. They were both very well trained. Koda had been a Search-and-Rescue dog, until he was injured and retired. Both dogs were certified therapy dogs now. She slid off the stretcher and opened the back of her ambulance. "Okay, y'all." Both dogs leaped from the truck and ran to a patch of grass. While they wrestled and played with each other, she pulled a half empty bag of dog food off the bench. She poured some food into two metal bowls and the dogs came running. While they ate, she dug around her backpack for a granola bar and bottle of water.


After she ate, she changed into her paramedic uniform: long navy blue pants covered in pockets for all her gear; black, waterproof work boots; a belt with more space for gear; and one of her shirts she wore when off duty. It read: Support EMS. Run with scissors. She tucked in the shirt and pulled her hair in a ponytail. After hopping out she called the dogs to her and put them in the passenger seat, while she climbed in the driver's side.





"Where do y'all think we should head?' She asked. She always spoke to the dogs, because she got lonely otherwise. As she started the vehicle, she ran a hand over some of the pictures taped to her dashboard. Most of the pictures were of her and the dogs, but some were of her fiancé, and firefighters, EMT's and Search-and-Rescue personnel that she had worked with and befriended. She sighed again and pulled away from the curb, keeping an out for the "Necrotics" as she called the infected.

 

[Nooguy]

"And you-" CRUNCH "can rot-" SQUELCH "in hell!" SPLURT. Jack grunted as his booted foot crashed down one last time on the now thoroughly pulverized and spattered remains of an undead's skull, the ground splattered with sickly blackish-red blood and brain matter. The soldier stood there as his chest rose and fell trying to both catch his breath and calm himself down. Two other motionless bodies lay a few feet away, their rotting and ghastly visages now truly lifeless after Jack managed to finally deal with their remaining 'friend'. Looking down at the now gore splattered bottom of his boot the aged soldier gave a disgusted sigh before wiping it on the shirt of his most recent kill. "Nothin' like a relaxing day in paradise." Jack grumbled to himself as he scraped as much of the blood, brain matter, and skull fragments from his footwear before stepping back and looking around at his surroundings. The veteran had been looking around in the general store he now resided in until a glance in the employee's lounge brought forth his three friends whom he had spent nearly twenty minutes trying to deal with. Walking over to one of the three officially dead undead, Jack leaned down to retrieved his kukri from the back of the creature's skull as a sickly, wet "SCHLUCK" emanated. "Ah...thank you for that buddy." He remarked to the lifeless form, wiping the fresh gore from the blade on the creature's tattered jeans before standing once again and sheathing his blade in its sheath which sat secured to the front of his left shoulder.


Having dealt with the now passed danger, Jack returned to the employee's lounge situated in the back of the general store. The rectangular room was pretty much the generic 'break room' with a few tables and chairs situated along the majority of its floor and a small counter lining the back. What Jack quickly walked to was the vending machines which surprisingly tended to have a selection considering the current state of the world. Two of the large rectangular machines sat nestled against the room's leftmost wall, one for standard snacks and the other for beverages. Aside from the bloody hand prints on the front Jack could make out some snacks in side. Reaching a hand behind him the soldier pulled out a crowbar from his rucksack which he'd found while looking through the general store. With the right amount of leverage in the right place Jack managed to snap the front clear panel out of the machine, allowing access to the goodies inside. There wasn't much save for a few bags of potato chips and a two candy bars, but calories were calories, and he wasn't complaining. Quickly stuffing his looted goodies into his rucksack, Jack had little reason to stay in his current location and made his way out of the store through the loading docks.


Waking along a sidewalk, Jack looked up to the sky, squinting slightly through his sunglasses. "Hmm, likely only a few hours of sunlight left. Better find a place to crash Jack or more of your friends are gonna be eager to play." Jack spoke once again to himself as he walked. Unfortunately after a few minutes Jack's luck once again seemed to run out for him. As he was trying to make his way into an apartment building to crash for the night, the front door seemingly barricaded shut, his ruckus attracted a rather sizable group of four to five infected. Their moaning growls and rancid scent reaching him Jack quickly caught sight of the group and swore to himself as these ones seemed 'fresh' and without much necrosis. "Gotta be fucking kidding me." He growled before turning and quickly running down along the sidewalk he was on, his adversaries keeping pace with him thanks to their largely 'whole' forms. Sprinting around a corner Jack made to bolt across the road before suddenly finding himself in the path of a rather large ambulance. While thanks to his speed and reaction timing Jack avoided a head on collision his let calf and foot got clipped by the vehicle's bumper which sent the soldier spinning from the strike and quickly spilling onto the asphalt. With the adrenaline coursing through him Jack didn't feel much pain, a quick glance not showing any blood or visible bone through his combat fatigues a sign of relief, but as he stood and placed weight on it a twinge of hot pain likely signaled a rather nasty bruising of sorts. Knowing he couldn't outright run anymore Jack drew his kukri once again as he moved to stand atop a sedan, preparing to deal with his pursuers.