Mikanu
Junior Member
(Rated M because of some good ol' gore.~)
They came from the ground, back from the dead. It was sudden and it was devastating. The human population suffered greatly. We are survivors, but this apocalypse is nothing like we thought it would be. The zombies lurk underground instead of on the surface. They are blind, their hearing is quite sharp, and they are nocturnal. They come out at night in order to feed. They have claws, this helps them tunnel through the ground. Parts of the ground is very unstable. Anyone can fall through, it is as if you are walking on thin ice. It is a dangerous time now, we must continue to survive and find a way to kill these creatures. They aren't human, but they can act like it. They have jaws, don't they, and a voice box? They can talk. Their minds are poisoned, however, they do not have a human conscious. But they are able to coax, and to bribe. So be careful. Don't listen to their toxic whispers. Don't die.
Name: Willow Jackson
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Personality:
Name: John Minrin
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Personality:
John is not someone you want to mess with. He has had many years of experience with fighting these strange zombies, though his experience comes in the form of fighting with a group. This man feels much more secure when someone has his back. He's not very careful in the fighting sense for this reason, used to having someone there rather than fighting alone. He's quite an expert at close combat, and he knows how to shoot a gun as well. Living with a group has actually made him a bit more careless and rash. He isn't what you'd call 'brave', but he does do whatever it takes to survive.
He tends to treat people with respect, though his mouth doesn't exactly spew gentleman-like comments all the time. At times he's capable of swearing like a sailor, though it's not like he exactly wants to woo anyone living at his camp. He can be a hot-head, especially when under pressure or stress, and is usually not an easy person to deal with at these times.
Weapons:
A scimitar.
A hunting knife.
A handgun.
Alright, first of all... We're in California. This is what it looks like, for the most part. A real wasteland and all that.
John's group resides in a rocky place, for protection. Take note of the dead-looking trees. There isn't a lot of plant life.
Rocky places are the safest, because it takes more time for the zombies to dig through.
It was a wasteland. Hardly an image of what it used to be, like a desert that was never meant to have been turned into a desert. Only a simple tumbleweed would have made this lonesome place livelier. However, none were to be seen for this wasn't a movie. This was the real world... The new world.
The land here was dangerous. It was as if you stood on thin ice. There was no ice to be seen, though, for it wasn't winter. Things would have been slightly better if winter had taken over the land, but alas, it was summer that stood in its way. The heat beat down on any survivors and left them thirstier than they already were. Clean water was difficult to get, as was any other necessity. Only a few years in this new world and things were already so very wrong. The end of the world was approaching, but there were still survivors. Some continued to live on.
-
John climbed up the rocky slope with vigor. He was heading back to his group after a failed hunting attempt. Then again, hunting alone wasn't easy so who could blame him? He knew the real reason he had gone out there, though it was his secret. If the group ever found out, he'd be dead. That was simply the best thing that could happen. The worst? He didn't want to think about it. John looked down at the blood staining his clothes, wondering how he'd explain that. He had made up a million excuses during his lovely hike, but none sounded plausible.
A bird was circling overhead. The moment Josh heard it, he looked up. Was it a vulture? Those were fairly common these days, one of the only birds that could have withstood the destruction. They ate the corpses of humans that hadn't already been nabbed by the zombies that polluted this area. He looked down now, at the ground. He silently cursed the undead that lived beneath his feet and got out his gun. He looked at it for a moment before pointing it up at the sky.
Not the best idea, not the best plan, not the best anything. Since when did he think farther than surviving? He barely ever had. And so, John shot at the bird. His group needed to eat. Never mind that he was shooting so close to them, they needed to eat. "Was that your best plan?" he asked himself scornfully as the shot rang. It was loud. In addition, it hadn't been too smart. Night was bound to fall soon, and then what? Then the zombies came out. Maybe they'd even come out right now and get his group. He lightly hit himself with the gun over and over, annoyed at himself, but then clicked the safety back on and put it back. He didn't want to make another mistake.
"John! That you, man?" He knew that voice. John slowly picked up the bird, his own eyes proving that it was most likely a vulture, and started towards the voice. "Luke," he replied. "John, was that shot you? Do you know how pissed the others are gonna be?" Luke came out of the shadows, giving John a scowl. "You won't report me, will you?" Josh gave him a grin. Luke sighed and the two started walking back to camp. "I can't, man. I can't just lie again." John stopped walking, giving Luke a stare. "I thought we were friends," he said seriously. Luke looked down at the ground, "You really gonna do this to me?"
There was an uncomfortable silence. John walked off and Luke let him, not going after him. This stupid mistake had probably just cost him his position in the camp. He looked at the bird angrily, wanting to strangle its dead neck. He simply decided to tuck it under his arm and continued on, his mind spinning. John always made stupid mistakes like these, but this time Luke wasn't going to help him out. Still, he had to try. He had to attempt to convince the leader that he was worthy of staying.
They came from the ground, back from the dead. It was sudden and it was devastating. The human population suffered greatly. We are survivors, but this apocalypse is nothing like we thought it would be. The zombies lurk underground instead of on the surface. They are blind, their hearing is quite sharp, and they are nocturnal. They come out at night in order to feed. They have claws, this helps them tunnel through the ground. Parts of the ground is very unstable. Anyone can fall through, it is as if you are walking on thin ice. It is a dangerous time now, we must continue to survive and find a way to kill these creatures. They aren't human, but they can act like it. They have jaws, don't they, and a voice box? They can talk. Their minds are poisoned, however, they do not have a human conscious. But they are able to coax, and to bribe. So be careful. Don't listen to their toxic whispers. Don't die.
Name: Willow Jackson
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Personality:
Willow is a generally serious person. After all the death she's seen, she isn't exactly the most sensitive person ever, usually coming off as cold or harsh.
Despite her coldness, if someone managed to break through the walls she's built, Willow's really actually quite sweet. She's good at noticing little things, both people wise and environment wise, as well as trying to comfort people when they're sad or upset.
Weapon:
Despite her coldness, if someone managed to break through the walls she's built, Willow's really actually quite sweet. She's good at noticing little things, both people wise and environment wise, as well as trying to comfort people when they're sad or upset.
Weapon:
Simple pistol she stole from some dude (Two clips, 8 bullets/four in each), a knife, and a bow she made (3 arrows).
Name: John Minrin
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Personality:
John is not someone you want to mess with. He has had many years of experience with fighting these strange zombies, though his experience comes in the form of fighting with a group. This man feels much more secure when someone has his back. He's not very careful in the fighting sense for this reason, used to having someone there rather than fighting alone. He's quite an expert at close combat, and he knows how to shoot a gun as well. Living with a group has actually made him a bit more careless and rash. He isn't what you'd call 'brave', but he does do whatever it takes to survive.
He tends to treat people with respect, though his mouth doesn't exactly spew gentleman-like comments all the time. At times he's capable of swearing like a sailor, though it's not like he exactly wants to woo anyone living at his camp. He can be a hot-head, especially when under pressure or stress, and is usually not an easy person to deal with at these times.
Weapons:
A scimitar.
Alright, first of all... We're in California. This is what it looks like, for the most part. A real wasteland and all that.
John's group resides in a rocky place, for protection. Take note of the dead-looking trees. There isn't a lot of plant life.
Rocky places are the safest, because it takes more time for the zombies to dig through.
It was a wasteland. Hardly an image of what it used to be, like a desert that was never meant to have been turned into a desert. Only a simple tumbleweed would have made this lonesome place livelier. However, none were to be seen for this wasn't a movie. This was the real world... The new world.
The land here was dangerous. It was as if you stood on thin ice. There was no ice to be seen, though, for it wasn't winter. Things would have been slightly better if winter had taken over the land, but alas, it was summer that stood in its way. The heat beat down on any survivors and left them thirstier than they already were. Clean water was difficult to get, as was any other necessity. Only a few years in this new world and things were already so very wrong. The end of the world was approaching, but there were still survivors. Some continued to live on.
-
John climbed up the rocky slope with vigor. He was heading back to his group after a failed hunting attempt. Then again, hunting alone wasn't easy so who could blame him? He knew the real reason he had gone out there, though it was his secret. If the group ever found out, he'd be dead. That was simply the best thing that could happen. The worst? He didn't want to think about it. John looked down at the blood staining his clothes, wondering how he'd explain that. He had made up a million excuses during his lovely hike, but none sounded plausible.
A bird was circling overhead. The moment Josh heard it, he looked up. Was it a vulture? Those were fairly common these days, one of the only birds that could have withstood the destruction. They ate the corpses of humans that hadn't already been nabbed by the zombies that polluted this area. He looked down now, at the ground. He silently cursed the undead that lived beneath his feet and got out his gun. He looked at it for a moment before pointing it up at the sky.
Not the best idea, not the best plan, not the best anything. Since when did he think farther than surviving? He barely ever had. And so, John shot at the bird. His group needed to eat. Never mind that he was shooting so close to them, they needed to eat. "Was that your best plan?" he asked himself scornfully as the shot rang. It was loud. In addition, it hadn't been too smart. Night was bound to fall soon, and then what? Then the zombies came out. Maybe they'd even come out right now and get his group. He lightly hit himself with the gun over and over, annoyed at himself, but then clicked the safety back on and put it back. He didn't want to make another mistake.
"John! That you, man?" He knew that voice. John slowly picked up the bird, his own eyes proving that it was most likely a vulture, and started towards the voice. "Luke," he replied. "John, was that shot you? Do you know how pissed the others are gonna be?" Luke came out of the shadows, giving John a scowl. "You won't report me, will you?" Josh gave him a grin. Luke sighed and the two started walking back to camp. "I can't, man. I can't just lie again." John stopped walking, giving Luke a stare. "I thought we were friends," he said seriously. Luke looked down at the ground, "You really gonna do this to me?"
There was an uncomfortable silence. John walked off and Luke let him, not going after him. This stupid mistake had probably just cost him his position in the camp. He looked at the bird angrily, wanting to strangle its dead neck. He simply decided to tuck it under his arm and continued on, his mind spinning. John always made stupid mistakes like these, but this time Luke wasn't going to help him out. Still, he had to try. He had to attempt to convince the leader that he was worthy of staying.
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