Ozzy
The man in the shadows
*A grainy image appears as a camera seems to pan left and right, as the hand retracts an image of a room comes into view. The room is heavily dilapidated, much of its wood interior giving away to the outside, not much else is seen besides an old chair that sits in the middle of the panned in feed. Shortly after a man comes into view. From appearance he is a white man with a buzz cut and an eye patch over his left eye. He sits in the chair silently as he faces the camera. With an audible sigh he begins to speak, his voice deep with a very light southern accent hidden beneath his words.*
“My name is Castiel Wood and I am a survivor from a small town in Texas. I am recording this message not for anyone in particular but merely as a record of certain events. There are not a lot of people left now who remember, most of them have succumbed to the infection. A lot of them didn’t have to, many could have survived if we had not been imprisoned outside the wall. But I have gotten ahead of myself, I will start from the beginning. I was ten when it started, it was so. . . simple, just a new sickness that people were getting. A new strain of the flu, at least that's what the CDC said, they assured us it was nothing to worry about *audible sigh* they lied. It was a week in, barely seven days when people began to die. Hospitals were filled up, overwhelmed, what little control the government had was failing. When the first of the deceased rose again however, the world as I and everyone else knew it, was gone.
It was a nightmare, whole cities fell in hours, there was chaos in the streets, people killing people. The military fell quickly, many deserted to be with their families or out of fear, and most others just succumbed to the infected. It wasn’t long, weeks maybe before power went down and with it, we were all left in the dark. Those first months . . . a lot of people perished, much of my own life was spent running and hiding, if not from the infected than other people who decided to take advantage of a lawless world. Much of what happened in between doesn’t really matter, nor does my life at this point. What matters is the Wall and the people who built it. No one really knows who started it, or how many years it took to build, but a wall was formed, built dead center through the United States from side to side, ocean to ocean. A wall of shipping containers, brick, stacked vehicles, whatever material you can imagine.
It is because of this wall that I am recording this in the first place. It is in itself a divider, a divider between what we have come to call the Deadlands and Civilization. We did not know, we couldn’t, but we came to find out that the infection that had claimed the west had not claimed the east. That somehow half of the country had been spared, a land free of this infection, an oasis in the desert. I have seen it myself, I have walked its length as it extends endlessly, and I have also seen what happened when one tries to cross it. Were not allowed in . . . none of us are allowed passage beyond the wall, to safety. . . anyone who was caught out here is considered infected. Many have tried and all have died trying to scale it, shot down like animals. *Dejected sigh* To them we are outcasts, dirty, and because of it, there are very few of us left anymore who live.”
*Castiel rising from the chair grabs the camera as the image blurs for a moment before it becomes clear again on a wall a distance a way. As it zooms in, people can be seen walking the top of the wall with rifles, and as it pans down, various bodies can be seen below the wall. Turning the camera back around Castiel resumes his seat in the chair as he resumes speaking*
“We have had enough, the chances are that I am about to die, but I wanted to record this so that it was known, known why were going to attack the wall. There is no food, barely water, there is nothing left out here, and if it is than it can’t be found. A group of us, were going to breach that wall or die trying, were dead either way if we try or don’t try. They drove us to this, and I want anyone who watches this to know that, to know why. Tonight, were either gonna change our fates or meet it. An if thats the case, I just wanna say, I am sorry father, sorry for not being the man you wanted me to be. I tried, gone as far I can, but I would rather die fighting than starve to death or get torn apart. Ill most likely meet you soon, but if by some chance I survive and make it through, than forgive me for what I am about to do.”
*With that Castiel reaches forward and the screen goes blank.*
“My name is Castiel Wood and I am a survivor from a small town in Texas. I am recording this message not for anyone in particular but merely as a record of certain events. There are not a lot of people left now who remember, most of them have succumbed to the infection. A lot of them didn’t have to, many could have survived if we had not been imprisoned outside the wall. But I have gotten ahead of myself, I will start from the beginning. I was ten when it started, it was so. . . simple, just a new sickness that people were getting. A new strain of the flu, at least that's what the CDC said, they assured us it was nothing to worry about *audible sigh* they lied. It was a week in, barely seven days when people began to die. Hospitals were filled up, overwhelmed, what little control the government had was failing. When the first of the deceased rose again however, the world as I and everyone else knew it, was gone.
It was a nightmare, whole cities fell in hours, there was chaos in the streets, people killing people. The military fell quickly, many deserted to be with their families or out of fear, and most others just succumbed to the infected. It wasn’t long, weeks maybe before power went down and with it, we were all left in the dark. Those first months . . . a lot of people perished, much of my own life was spent running and hiding, if not from the infected than other people who decided to take advantage of a lawless world. Much of what happened in between doesn’t really matter, nor does my life at this point. What matters is the Wall and the people who built it. No one really knows who started it, or how many years it took to build, but a wall was formed, built dead center through the United States from side to side, ocean to ocean. A wall of shipping containers, brick, stacked vehicles, whatever material you can imagine.
It is because of this wall that I am recording this in the first place. It is in itself a divider, a divider between what we have come to call the Deadlands and Civilization. We did not know, we couldn’t, but we came to find out that the infection that had claimed the west had not claimed the east. That somehow half of the country had been spared, a land free of this infection, an oasis in the desert. I have seen it myself, I have walked its length as it extends endlessly, and I have also seen what happened when one tries to cross it. Were not allowed in . . . none of us are allowed passage beyond the wall, to safety. . . anyone who was caught out here is considered infected. Many have tried and all have died trying to scale it, shot down like animals. *Dejected sigh* To them we are outcasts, dirty, and because of it, there are very few of us left anymore who live.”
*Castiel rising from the chair grabs the camera as the image blurs for a moment before it becomes clear again on a wall a distance a way. As it zooms in, people can be seen walking the top of the wall with rifles, and as it pans down, various bodies can be seen below the wall. Turning the camera back around Castiel resumes his seat in the chair as he resumes speaking*
“We have had enough, the chances are that I am about to die, but I wanted to record this so that it was known, known why were going to attack the wall. There is no food, barely water, there is nothing left out here, and if it is than it can’t be found. A group of us, were going to breach that wall or die trying, were dead either way if we try or don’t try. They drove us to this, and I want anyone who watches this to know that, to know why. Tonight, were either gonna change our fates or meet it. An if thats the case, I just wanna say, I am sorry father, sorry for not being the man you wanted me to be. I tried, gone as far I can, but I would rather die fighting than starve to death or get torn apart. Ill most likely meet you soon, but if by some chance I survive and make it through, than forgive me for what I am about to do.”
*With that Castiel reaches forward and the screen goes blank.*
Hello there!
Welcome to my interest check, I am currently looking for a male or female who would like to discuss a zombie story, little example above of the story. I am trying to keep this short, so if your at all interested in the Intro above please PM me and I will be happy to discuss the plot more. It can be MxM or MxF, I usually prefer to play males.
