Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

((please reply to tell me how i've done and feel free to comment))

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY MOTHER?" screamed Damian at the hunched figure.
"WELL?"He yelled. The figure began looking up, a man but something wasn't right. Damian squinted the sun out of his eyes. What was not right? He asked himself the corpse of his mother, no that wasn't it he looked ore carefully ant the smaller details. Lawn, driveway, houses. He froze in terror once he learned what was wrong. mouth open and eyes wide, he stared at the figure limping towards him. The man was not in fact human! It had a torn bloody face and looked green from sickness and disease. The thing approached him. Before it managed to get in arms reach Damian's hand clenched around the scalpel. With sudden realization he carelessly lunged at the man holding the scalpel tip forward. The scalpel easily pushed into the skin and there entangled bodies fell. Damian got up panting heavily and remembered his mother. She was not breathing and was growing pale. Damian panicked then ran into his house and dashed for his phone and dialed 9-1-1.
"9-1-1?" said a woman's voice
"you... you have to help... my mo..."
"please calm down sir" said the woman
"but my mother she's hurt" he said tiredly
"where will the ambulance be needed?" questioned the woman
"92 row street" he said eagerly
"ok an ambulance will be on it's way" she said, then hung up the phone
Damian took a moment to rest and calm down then went to wait outside. He opened the door and to his surprise both the bodies were gone!

((It's going to be hard to post alot of long parts for me, as at school I have regular homework again, so bare with me, I havn't even checked my Myspace in a week.))

Jak didn't know where the hell everyone else was, but when Ben's voice rang out with the order to hual ass came, his brain looked to the front, picking out the source of the gangsters retreat. The large charter buses were barreling through the crowd, making max speed as they connected with the concrete front of the building. As he watched it horror, and partial awe, at the vast hunks of metal gouging (SP?) holes in the building as the walls fell down around them, he noticed he was no longer standing in the middle of the room. Somehow Jak's body had acted on reflects without him knowing, and had thrown himself behind a wooden bench that had toppled from the destruction.

His eyes were open but it took a second to register what he was seeing, all was quiet for those few seconds and he just lay there, staring at the cherry wood stain on the visitor's bench. He shook his head to clear the confusion, turning on his back and sitting up enough to see over his cover, his chainmail clothing clinking as he did. [Least they didn't take this.] The buses lay in the middle of the room, dust floating around like a thick fog. [Did we win?] He grabbed his Italian Valtro PM-5, which he'd grabbed from the armory locker, it had landed only a few inches from his hand, but without it he felt vulnerable. He felt it's weight and checked the magizine, it was loaded, and from the solid weight weight he figure all the way. He had only two other clips, one half empty, the other fully empty. He jacked the full clip into the gun as a commotion arose from the mangled buses. He popped the barrel up onto the cherry wood stained bench, keeping his form behind it [Whatever ran those buses in here, their intent was to kill..naw dip you just figured that out?], reflecting on his thoughts, Jak zoned out of the situation...at the exact wrong time.

Men piled from the buses, all were bruised but obviously not "down and out".

"SINNER!" "Thought shall burn, in, HELL!"

Jak's brain whirled back to life at the sounds of automatic machine guns going off. His eye's losing that glazed over lookand picking targets. He swung the gun around to the nearest bus, where a cop was falling to his back with half the back of his head missing in a red/grey hole. As Jak tried to figure what target to take he heard loud explosions ring out behind some of the buses [Holy...explosives], he didn't want to risk hitting the rest of the crew if the rounds in the gun were buckshot, but as another set of words rang out, clear in the haze, he thanked whatever higher power there was.

"RUUUUN AWAAAY!"

The members of his "team" ran to a defensible area, somewhere down a hallway, running towards the back. But to get to the hallway, he would have to make his way a good distance of a solid wall of bullets. Instead of running into suicide he turned tail and ran into the hallway directly behind him. As his hunched over body scampered into the darkened halls he came across a cultist, who, by some way, had gotten behind him.

"BURN DEMON OF SATAN!"

The scrawny cultist pulled the trigger on his Mac10 submachine gun [Oh...damn.]

Jak was greatfully surprised when the fanatic pulled the trigger, only to have the safety on, he wasn't sure even Galvanized Steel could hold off bullets at this distance. The cultist fumbled with the gun, bringing a hand up to flick the switch, but Jak was quicker. He pulled the heavy trigger on his Valtro, but it stuck fast, bringing a horror to his face. The religious nut had, by now, figured out the safety and was bringing his gun up to Jak's chest.

"BEGONE HELLISH SPAWN!"

Jak rawred like a 10 ton bear as he charged at the small man, bringing the stock up and around, bringing his full force through the gun and into the man's head.

Jak: FUCK OFF!

The scrawny basterd lay on the floor, fighting consiocness (SP?), and a shaky hand moving to the green frag grenade strpped on his chest. [No No, we can't have any of that.] This mental voice was slightly scary, it was maniacle, like something you would expect from a serial killer, as if it enjoyed the thought of killing.

Jak: I SAID FUCK OFF!!!

Jak flicked the switch with his thumb, and staring at the sqwuiming man, let lose the 12-gauge slug into the man's chest. The bullet traveled through the gunpowder smoke, twirling gracely as it went through the man's hand, snapping the bones of his forearm, and creating a miniture explosion as the cultist's heart blew out of his chest.

Jak's blood pumped as he ran headlong down the hallway, his brain pounding with bloodlust, whatever this new side of him was, it was scarey, but also felt...

good.

((OK, that wasn't supposed to be that long, but I think my character is starting to form new personalities to cope with this hellish nightmare around him, I'll see what happens))

((Also, 300 great posts!))

At 4/14/08 09:04 PM, pshermamm wrote: ((please reply to tell me how i've done and feel free to comment))

((Pretty good. I prefer captials, but whatever.))

Duran and Hurok walked side to side with Andy and Kirk not far behind. "Hurok, tell me you took your medicine." Duran asked in a low whisper. "My prescription ran out yesterday. I was going to go and pick them up today." Hurok whispered back. Duran stopped Hurok, Andy and Kirk. "Hurok, the fuck? That would have been nice to know when we had a car!" Duran yelled. "Hey hey hey now. I don't need it." Hurok tried to calm down Duran. "Bullshit! You go in psychotic episodes if you go without two days with it!" Duran yelled. "Duran, shush." Andy butted in. "Wh-mmf!" Hurok silenced Duran with his hand. The clackering of men walking. . with firearms. . "Take cover!" Andy whispered sharply, and the four jumped inside of a now empty pet-store and hid behind various displays and counters. The sounds grew closer.

Andy popped his head over the counter, and saw six or eight men walking down the road equipped with all kinds of weapons. They also donned heavy body armor, helmets, and gas-masks. "I swear I just heard them, man!" One said, as he removed his gas mask. "Youra paranoid, man." Another said. "Freind of foe?" Andy asked Hurok as quietly as he could. Hurok nodded his head in a no. "Maybe the jumped into one of these there stores." A third chimed in. "Then you can go look." The second man said. Andy ducked his head down quick as the third man looked toward the pet-store. "Aww, I always wanted me-sa puppy!" The third said, laughing. The others joined in. "You'd kill it in three days, tops!" The first one laughed. The third started to walk toward the pet store. Andy signed to Hurok, "Shoot to kill.". Hurok nodded and told Duran, behind a bunny free-roam stall. Andy signed the same thing to Kirk. He gripped his weapon, and nodded.

"I don't see shit, man. ." The third muttered, kicking over things in the front of the store. He walked past Duran, nearly stepping on his foot. Duran held in his sigh of relief as the man continued on his way. "Not even a dead bird. ." He said louder. He stepped on a fallen bag of dog food, and stood up on it. Kirk was almost directly to his left. The man continued on his way. "No puppies, kitties, or snakes!" He shouted as he walked past Hurok, failing to notice the brute of a man. " 'ey man, getchur ass back out here!" The first man shouted. Hurok stood up and grabbed the man by the neck and swiftly broke it. The man fell limp, and dropped his AK-47. The other 6 looked over. "Johnny!" The first screamed as Hurok dropped the man and returned back to his cover.

"Fi-" "-re!" Andy and the second man screamed. They raised thier weapons in eerie unison, Andy and the second man aimed at each other. Andy fired a five round burst, and ducked before the other could even get a round out. Three hit him in the stomach of his armor, one in the chest, and the last hit him square in his Adams Apple. He dropped, and the other five started firing. Kirk started to yell into the radio. "Anyone! This is Kirk Dodge! I and-" Kirk stopped as bullet slammed into the wall behind him. "-and me and three others are being fired upon in Sams Petstore! We need help, we are out gunned and numbered! Please, send hel-" Kirk ducked as a bullet grazed his right shoulder. "Fuck!" He screamed into the radio, dropping it. Kirk fired blindly over the counter, hitting all of nothing. Andy popped up, and fired at ones hit, hitting him twice in the cheek. He dropped like a sack of potatoes. The remaining four backed away, and took cover in the store across the street; a computer store.

"Kirk, you alright!" Andy yelled over the gunfire of the other four. "A bullet grazed me, but I'm fine!" Kirk responded, holding his shoulder. "Duran, you doing good!" Duran shouted something, but he was drowned out by gunfire. Andy aimed over the counter, and fired the rest of his clip into the other store. "Andy! Where did Hurok go!!" Andy finally heard what Duran shouted earlier. Looking around, no-one could find Hurok. "He was in 'nam! I'm sure he knows what he is doin'!" Kirk shouted, as he fired blindly again. There was a thunk and a cry of pain,

Kirk hit someone!

Andy quickly popped over the counter, and saw the biggest guy of the group dragging the smallest guy of the group behind a counter. Andy quickly fired, and managed to finish of the small guy before he got to cover. The three shouted in victory. Andy saw something bounce of the wall right by his feet. Andy looked, and his eyes grew big. "HAND-GRENADE! MOVE MOVE MOVE!!" Andy shouted, vaulting and grabbing Duran. Avoiding all gunfire the three made it to a car outside. The grenade tore the store apart. "The fuck did they get grenades!" Duran yelled. "Fire, you ninny!" Kirk yelled, looking over the care hood and firing at the three. One of his bullet lodged itself into the largest guys leg as he stood to fire. He let out a gruesome cry and dropped to the ground. "You shits!" Kirk yelled, as he ducked down avoice bullets by mere millimeters. A grenade again bounced over the car hood, right next to Andy. "Like fuck you are!" Andy grabbed the grenade and hurled it back at the others. It exploded in the middle of the air. A loud gunshot rang above all, and a man at the other store dropped. A second one soon rang out and the last one dropped. Andy looked up on the roof, and there stood Hurok with sniper rifle in hand. "Yeah!" Andy yelled, standing up. "Andy, no-!" Hurok warned, raising his gun toward the other store. Kirk looked up at Andy and saw his head rip apart. Hurok fired at the source. . the big man who was shot in the leg had lived. Andy dropped, dead as can be.

Hurok quickly made it downstairs. Kirk was huddled over his fallen brother, bawling as he held him in his arms in a tight grasp. Hurok hung his head, as did Duran. Hurok reached toward Andy neck and removed his tags. Kirk muttered a prayer silently. "Kirk. ." Hurok reached down, grabbing his shoulder. "We can't stay here." He said, as Duran dragged a huge dog-blanket from the petstore. "No. . no!" Kirk cried. Hurok pulled him away from his dead brother. Duran covered Andy with the blanket. "We must live. We must tell his story. We must." Hurok said. Kirk looked up at Hurok, eyes teared. Kirk nodded silently. "Hurok, I got someone on the radio!" Duran held up the radio.

((Whee big post.))

Oops, I just noticed I plugged in the wrong linky dink, here is the real gun.

After Spike was knocked off, he rolled backwards and slammed Luke down on the ground with his feet. He ran after the one that he has previously tackled, and slammed him down to the ground again. He rammed his knife in the man's knee. "What did I say, fool?!" He asked, his alcohol-smelling breath slammed against the man's face. He took the knife out of the knee, picked up some dirt, and slammed it directly into the open knee wound. The man began to tense, as the dirt filled his bloodstream.

Spike got off of the man, then looked to the other, who seemed to recover. "You listen, if you mess with me, or bring help, I'll kill you all!"

(Sorry, I could make it much longer, I just have a bit of homework)

"Kirk I got someone on the radio!"

Nick breathed a sigh of relief. He was surprised that the equipment still worked at all, considering the antenna of the large and impressive communications set-up looked as though God Himself deigned to give it a solid kick in the nads.

"Kirk! For fuck's sake, mate, where the hell are you?!"

"Sam's petstore. There's these men trying to kill us. They all look like some sort of government types."

At those words Nick felt the eyes of the remains of the local police department lock on to the back of his neck and bury billions of daggers in it. He stifled a groan. Even in the midst of bloody Armageddon, these guys still clinged to turf wars.

"So, tactical gear, heavy weapons, that sorta shit?" Kirk let out a sob at the end of that sentence.

"Nick...Andy."

"Oh Christ..." Nick managed. He heard Emily and Fred burst into tears at those words. He ground his back teeth. His partner: Dead. A newfound comrade: Dead.

Chances of making it out alive: Not so rosy.

"Okay...." gunshots reverberated out of the console. "Aw shit, Kirk! Kirk, talk to me goddammit!"

"I'm here, it's fine. Hurok and Duran are keeping these guys at bay, but they're really damn good. I don't think we can hold out for much longer." A gunshot, followed by a faint cry of pain and a snicker of satisfaction closer to the radio in Kirk's hand informed Nick that maybe Kirk was being a little pessimistic.

Groans just outside the door told Nick that pessimisism wasn't exactly in short supply that morning.

He rubbed the palms of his gloved hands over his face. The warm fabric brushed away some dirt and grime, leaving streaks from Nick's eyes to his neck. He heaved a breath, then made a snap decision. It involved a plan. The plan involved someone being in danger. That someone was him.

He actually groaned out loud this time. If he got out of this, he had best get around eight years of vacation time.

"Okay, Kirk, I want you to bunker down and hold out. There's nine of us here, and we're heavily armed, sleep-deprived and pretty pissed off. I doubt those soldiers of yours will be a problem much longer."

Turning away from the radio set, he addressed the police captain. "I assume you have a garage?"

"Yep. Full of vehicles too. We managed to get a few back before it all went to shit. There's about an infinity of zombies between here and there though."

Nick pulled out his gun and cocked the slide. "Then let's dwindle those numbers a little shall we?"

The rest grabbed weapons and jacked in magazines. Time to blow this joint.

--Several feverish minutes of planning later--

Nick lay flat in the airduct, wishing for the jillionth time he'd paid attention to his mother when she said that he had a big mouth.

"'Of course I'll do it,' I said, 'How bad can one little airduct be?' I said. I'm an idiot." he muttered to himself, crawling towards the vent covering leading to the garage.

The plan was to circumvent the zombies. While the rest of the group kept their attention via loud noises, Nick's job was to start up the three crusiers in the motor pool. After they were ready, the captain would turn off the station lockdown, allowing the others to get to the garage through the main entrance.

Only flaw was that once the lockdown was off, the zombies would be able to enter the garage via three more entrances then they could currently.

"C'est la vie" Nick said, leaping down from the duct and running to the nearest car. He pulled out the key ring filched from the cheif's office and popped the door. He quickly found the right key, turned on the car and made for number two. Once the three were open, he clicked his radio twice.

A siren sounded as the metal grate lifted on the far vehicle entrance.

Nick looked at the entrance and nearly went into catapletic shock. A horde of zombies were shambling straight towards him.

"Uh oh..." he muttered, leaving the driver's seat of Car #858 and sprinting for the trunk. He popped it open and grabbed a SPAS 12 shotgun. He heaved a sigh of relief. The Sarge was right in that the cops had stockpiled each cruiser before locking down the garage.

He holstered his Glock and grabbed the box of shells. He marched into the middle of the carport, dropped the shells, kicked it open and racheted the shotgun pump.

"I've always wanted to say this," Nick said with a grin, he took in a deep breath, "Say hello to my little friend! he roared, letting loose a blast of shot and toppling the nearest three zombies.

He worked the slide again and again. When he went dry, he grabbed a handful of shells, slammed them home and went to town again. The zombies fell in scores. But they were endless and soon Nick found himself behind a car door, wishing he had grabbed the box of shells. He was down to a full shotgun mag and three plus one in the gun pistol clips.

"Tony Montana never knew how easy he had it." he muttered darkly. He raised the shotgun and expended a shell, killing none.

At that moment, the rest of group, minus two, toppled out of the stairwell door.

"Where the FUCK were you people?!" Nick bellowed. "Where's the others?"

"Zombies ambushed us, they're dead. No time to talk, drive!" replied the Sarge, sliding into the driver's side of Nick's car. Blasting away a zombie reaching for his neck, Nick got into the passenger side and slammed shut the door. Fred and Emily got into the back. The captain and the rest of the cops got into the second car. Punching it, the Sarge turned about five zombies into paste with the grille of the cop car. Fish tailing into line with the exit, he put her in max and mashed his way out into the street.

Careening down a side street, the Sarge pointed at the sunroof. Nick remember the next part of the plan and died a little inside.

"I can't believe I agreed to this too..." he mumbled as he got into position.

"It was your idea." the Sarge said.

"I didn't volunteer for it though."

"It was a fair vote."

"Five cops versus me. How the hell is that fair."

No response other then the buzz of the sunroof motor as it folded back.

Nick sighed, "My God but I hate you guys." He stood up and was blasted in the face by the wind. Pulling his shotgun up alongside himself, he looked back at the other car. A cop stood in its sunroof, wielding a P90.

Rounding the clubhouse turn, Nick saw the petstore and felt his breath catch in his throat. A small group of soldiers in gas masks and other tactical gear were blasting the living hell out of the store front. The return fire from his friends was pitiful. They needed help. Now.

Raising his shotgun, Nick blew the head off of the nearest soldier. The rest turned and were immediately caught in a decision between the group in the store and the homicidal maniacs screaming towards them in two police crusiers. They wisely chose a third option and scattered, leaving five dead behind them.

Stopping the cars, the team got out and re-united with the besieged people in the store.

"My God I thought you were dead." said Emily, smothering Kirk in a hug.

Nick left them to their family moment and walked over to the dead soldiers. Funny, two of them had been stripped bare. Nick looked up to see the Sarge and the captain each holding a bundle of clothes and looking at him.

Nick understood instantly.

"Fuck no!"

"Nick, we need to find out just what the hell is going on in this city. If you and I go undercover as these wackjobs, maybe we can get some answers and even a ride outta this hellhole."

"But-"

"No buts son. You have to make some sacrifices from time to time. Now's the time. Go suit up."

Nick grabbed the uniform from the captain, shot them both a filthy look, then walked off to get some privacy, calling out over his shoulder, "Would someone find out where the hell we're supposed to go after we get these retard suits on? Search the bodies, there's gotta be a map on one of 'em. I'll be in the back of the store cursing you all if anyone needs me."

((Characters remaning: 82))

((Oh fuck me. I forgot to add, the other guy going undercover with Nick is the Sarge. My bad. Me so seepy...))

The stranger walked away casually as if he had just been out to take a nice walk. Luke got up, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve. He felt a bruise under his left eye, and there was a gash on his right cheek. He ran over to Francis who clutched his right knee tightly, writhing in pain. He examined the wound.

"That looks really bad."

"Oh yeah, bad would be a nice way of describing it." Francis replied through gritted teeth.

"Here, I need your sleeve."

Francis ripped off his sleeve which was hanging off by a few threads and handed it to Luke, who wrapped it around the wound. Francis bit his arm, his eyes shut tight.

"Can you stand?"

Francis tried standing up, but slumped back down to the ground.

"Okay, well, just lean against the wall here and rest. I'll go get some help."

Luke ran off, leaving Francis alone. Francis buried his face in his hands, deep in pain. He felt hopeless. He was unarmed, alone, and injured while deadly creatures were roaming the city. There might be a creature lurking around behind him at that moment, for all he knew.

Francis turned around and looked into the alleyway. He jinxed it.

A creature was lurking behind the dumpster, and now it was advancing towards Francis.

There was no escaping this time.

Spike heard the zombie from behind, he knew it was to kill the two men, as if he had no choice, he moved behind the corner, lifted his 9mm, and fired, the bullet went clear through the creature's forehead, the beast fell down. He walked away once more, sliding his nine millimeter away and fiddling with his knife, they'd treat his infected knee, eventually. They couldn't go to a hospital, considering the highest doctors and the lowest nurses were zombies. He continued his stroll, when he stumbled across a small store.

The window was shattered, the glass was all over the ground, blood was all over the ground as well. He skipped it, considering the fact that blood was still spurting from the store as a zombie ate the cashier. Spike was quite lonely, he was a loner. There were no people, when there were, he'd rob them. The police would be chasing him down the sidewalks, and, as always, he'd lose them.

But no, there was the occasional zombie, and maybe even a survivor, but they'd pass him. He stopped when he saw his black-and-white picture on a newspaper.

"Stop this vile criminal! Reward of 1,000,000 dollars."
Name: Spike Redram
Age: 18
Charges: 32 counts of murder
2 counts of destruction
5 counts of vehicular assault
30 counts of assault.

He spit on the paper, it was no use anymore. He wasn't far from the men, but he sat down, leaning against the small store.

((my first long one :P))
"I'm telling the truth" Scoffed Damian, he had never been a bother to the law but a $100 fine made him feel like a bad person.
"That's what you get for prank calling the police it's disturbing the peace!"Said the Police Officer that had given the fine.
They were standing on his driveway arguing about "Disturbing the peace" The thought of it just made Damian angry. There used to be blood on his driveway and he didn't know hell about why there was no more blood
"Good day sir" Said Police Officer as he got into his car. Damn you Damian thought to him self and walked toward his house slowly. He spent the rest of the day trying to forget what he saw, he figured he was hallucinating, at later that night he couldn't sleep. But at the time it wasn't the least of his problems.
He couldn't sake an eerie feeling. He swore that he heard creaking noises and a few gurgling sounds, but he thought that he was just spooked. But then he heard a loud creaking noise he couldn't help sitting up and looking around, but then disregarded the thought. After about five minutes of laying still another loud creaking noise but this time he looked at the end of his bed and saw... eyes! 2 eyes staring right... at... him! After a long minute of staring back and forth the eyes squinted and flung the rest of it's body at him hands clawing at his face. Luckily Damian managed to grab it's hands before it could harm him, during this time Damian managed to get a glance at the things face
"YOU!" He yelled. The face the face was etched in his mind, the face of the thing that killed his mother, but he killed it how could it be here moving, breathing, living. The thing tried to lunge at Damian's face, but Damian pushed of the bed with his legs and sent the thing flying back into the wall. It seemed unconscious, but what if it wasn't dead like last time. I have to leave thought Damian, he ran to the door and opened it when suddenly another one of those... things ran at him.
Now if you were to be walking along the sidewalk in front of Damian's house you would think ordinary of it, but with a nice big window with drapes on the other sides. Which seems inconveniently made there when a body breaks through the glass entangled in drapes and a woman jumping out after him.
Damian untangled himself and tried to crawl away, the woman walking after him lunged at him and threw him five feet across his lawn.
"Mother." He cried not all out of sadness but also pain, yes in fact the woman attacking him was his mother. Damian pushed his way until his back was against a metal tree support. Why was she hurting him so, pondered Damian, his tears were flowing into his mouth. And then Damian's mother lunged. It felt like an eternity watching his own mother running at him, and out of fear Damian ducked. And his mother became impaled on the metal tree support, he stood up slowly "It's over" He reinsured himself but when he turned around he thought otherwise. What seemed to be the entire neighborhood was staring at him, but they were all just like the man and his mother. Then the house door opened, the man he killed twice was standing inside his doorway
"z...z...zombies don't exist" he whispered under his breath. But the facts said otherwise.

Luke weaved through the city street until he reached the Payne-Ferguson Hospital. He peeked through the glass doors and saw that the main lobby was deserted. He walked in cautiously, his footsteps resonating eerily through the empty corridors.

"Is there anyone here?"

Luke's voice echoed throughout the floor. He decided to check the second floor and strode over to the stairwell. As he made his way up, a sense of foreboding erupted inside him. This hospital was just too uncannily quiet. Something bad was bound to happen soon.

Luke's prediction proved correct. As he opened the door into the second floor, he looked down at the floor and gasped.

Blood everywhere.

One half of Luke wanted to get out of there, but the other half pushed him on. His sneakers created ripples in the blood as he marched along the ward.

As Luke walked through, a noise distracted him. It was coming from Room 209. The door was slightly ajar, and Luke peeked through.

A huddled mass was crouching in the corner. It looked as if it was sobbing. Luke, hesitated, but pushed the door open and walked in.

"Um...h-hey."

The person stopped sobbing and looked up at Luke.

Luke wanted to scream, but his dry throat would not let him.

It was a zombie. Its soulless eyes stared Luke up and down, then it got up and rushed at Luke with great speed. Thinking fast, Luke grabbed a scalpel from a table nearby and plunged it into the zombie's stomach. He ran out of the room through the second floor corridor, his sneakers splashing in the blood. He rushed helter-skelter down the stairs to the second floor, skipping every other step, and came bursting out into the first floor. He ran out of the building onto the empty streets and looked back up at the hospital. The zombie was staring at him through the window, those cold lifeless eyes piercing his very soul. Luke took two steps back and ran off, distancing himself away from the hospital as much as possible, leaving only footprints of blood.

Francis was still staring open-mouthed at the wriggling body of the dying creature when Luke came back, beads of sweat coating his gashed face. Francis noticed the blood on his shoes.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Well I went to the hospital...zombie...had to run out." Luke panted.

"A zombie?"

"Yeah, a zombie," replied Luke, who leaned against the wall. "That's probably what we turn into when the creatures get us."

"Well, best the creatures not get us then."

"Good point."

Luke looked over at the dying creature.

"Whoa, what happened here?"

"A creature was lurking behind the dumpster there and somebody shot it."

"Who could it have been?"

"I don't know."

Francis looked over at a small store nearby. He noticed that the stranger was leaning against the graffiti-covered wall, a 9mm in his hand. Francis didn't know whether to be angry with him for harming him, or thank him for saving his life.

((aha... If you get mad for me not connecting to your stories, you'll see why at the end. this is kinda a ode to Kerma, like a solo part in a movie.))

As Kerma Turned on the T.V., he was surprised that one news channel was still operational.

"We are here on the scene of the destroyed sawmill. Here is Sara with the report." " It is taken that a week ago, a horde of monsters ran through the sawmill. Studies say that the monsters were headed in all different directions, but the most headed near the hospital. We threw a cam corde- SHHHHHSHSHH" "stupid static" Kerma said as he banged the T.V. "Ahh, there we go." "It was also odd that the body of Kerma X White was missing, leading to rumors that he IS the leader of this horrible pack. Studies say that this is 70/30 chance 70 being yes. Studies also say that the monsters were heading for the antenn- SHSHSSHSHSSHHSSHSHSHHSSS...." All static.

Sitting on the floor of his rubbled home, he cried to himself. "Why god, do you have to kill me, my family and only bring me back to be hunted down?" "Do you have any respect for me or my family? I have only brought dismay to this place, people are now hunting me down when they should be preparing themselves on the oncoming horde!!!" As he sobbed to himself, a curious head bobbed up.
"hwello?" said a 6-8 yr old girl. "Are youw Kwerma?" She said "Yes. I don't care if you tell the rest of em, I have brought terror to this place." "No i'm nwot here for that, Hewre, Hawve this pic." "How.... How did you get this?!?" It was a Picture of his mom, him and his dad. "You don't even know me!" "I'm yourw wittle sister, your mommy died way after the cwar crash."

Kerma stared at his sister, then cried painfully. He had never knew that his mother lived after his death. It made them feel farther apart.

While he was asking her dozens of questions, the villagers of his town spotted him and his sister. "There he his! After him!" They grabbed him forcefully and pinned him to the wall.

"Mway I spweak Two Kwerma?" Asked his sis. "Yes, we will back out if you want us to." and so they backed out. "Kwerma, the wall you are on now is where your mommy died. She was pinned by two robbers that latwer commited arson to the houwse." "That is enough, sis. Let them in now to purge me of my sins."

When they were let in they said: "We will ask the questions you give us the answers." "No. Sis, pick up that little tin solider and a nail from my board." Kerma demanded. "Okway!" little did she know what he was really asking.

"Ok, good work. Now take that nail and slit open my chest." "Whawt do you mean big bwother?" "JUST DAMN DO IT!" And so she obeyed. "*gasp* ok... now take that tin solider and stab my heart." "NWO! I WONT DO IT! YOU ARE MY BROTH-" "AUUGGGGHHHH!!" She might not of done it, but a villager did. With the tine solider stabbed in his heart, he breathed his last words: "Thank.....You.....God...." Then Kerma breathed in his last air and died.

With a single teardrop from his sister, he had taken a half lap of his life. He had died where his mother did, Escaped from a horde of monsters, and cought up on his buddy Klocks. His life was complete.

((Rate 1-10 Please, but this isn't the end... also i put in the w's on purpose as the lil sis."

At 4/18/08 12:57 AM, Ace-57 wrote: shit

((Looks like somebody learned how to spam.))

Spiked leaned there still, nobody treaded his way, the streets were lonely. Normally, when he was sitting there, people would try shoving him aside or simply wail "Move!" Sometimes, the police would come just to get him to move. Spike looked over at the two men, shook his head, and looked back at the ground, where most people thought he belonged. A zombie walked out of the corner store, stepped on his own trap button, for wen the store was closed, a log came out and struck him. He flew into a blunt pole, making contact with his head.

Spike got up, and looked around. "There must be a vehicle somewhere."

He continued looking, even passing the two men once again. "Damnit!"

There was nothing at all.

He walked over to the corpse, and rammed his foot down on it's head. The head exploded, sending blood everywhere. "Where is a vehicle?!" He yelled out loud, to himself, though. "Never mind..." He thought, walking away, directly in front of the men.

"A nightmare... A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!" hollered Damian. How is this living when he'd rather be dead, running like hell is what classified what he did next. But effortlessly he didn't know where to run. The circle of... zombies around him were closing in, and out of rage and fear he ran at the wall of zombies! He head butted the first of the zombies in his way right in the chest then ran to another, dove at it's legs and threw it over his back. Turning back he saw his efforts were turning out more worthless then he thought, the zombies kept getting back up. Damian stumbled down in exhaustion
There's no point anymore I'm going to die he thought to himself. A zombie walked toward him and held it's hands straight up, Damian didn't want to look he closed his eyes and waited. But it took too long and he heard a loud POP, his mind came back into place and he heard an engine, and opened his eyes to see a car mowing down the zombies with a man on top holding a rifle and picking off remaining zombies. The car came to a quick stop and the man on top of the car hollered "come on they won't stay down for long"
Damian ran to the jeep and jumped on, and they drove away.
"you're lucky to be alive" said the man with the rifle, he was wearing blue jeans, a white shirt with a black tie, he also had thick black hair. But Damian didn't notice, he was to preoccupied with looking at hi reflection in the mirror. But it wasn't him it wore a black leather jacket with black jeans and jet black hair that covered one half of his face. Staring right back at him.

Damian blinked a few times and he saw his real reflection. "I guess we haven't introduced, I'm Duncan and the one driving is William" said Duncan
"now as you see there's a huge problem we're going to the Bay West Mall. We'll be there in about 3 minutes" explained William. Driving along he saw only a few zombies
"they usually gather where there are still living people, that's how we found you kiddo" added Duncan
the three minutes were the worst 3 minutes of Damian's life, he kept seeing he's "other" reflection standing in the streets, watching him as they drove along. No one else seemed to notice but to Damian it was clear as day
"here we are" interrupted Duncan. There was nothing out of the ordinary at the mall, except that there were no people. They parked the car right in front of the mall without consideration of the law... if there were still laws left to break. The mall from the inside was huge, Damian had never been in it but he saw stores empty. Most of them broken into.
"follow close, there is still a zombie somewhere here" said William. That made Damian really uncomfortable. They headed to a store called Gunnerz.
"this is were we get the guns we need" William told Damian. They climbed through a crude hole in the window
"choose what ya fancy" said Duncan. Damian looked through the isles, he saw a nice silver rifle and took it off the rack
"I don't know much about guns but I can tell you it's a full auto with little drawback" said Duncan. So this is it thought Damian, searching for ammo behind the display case.
The only other stores they went to were for food that day. The rest of the day was used for treating Damian's injuries. That night they slept in separate stores side by side. Damian was sleeping well until he was awoken by being shook, he opened his eyes slowly to see hands clenching his shirt lifting his upper back off the ground. It was him self! His second reflection
"let me out, you know who I am!" said his second reflection.
"no I don..." before he could say the words his second reflection put a hand around his neck and squeezed
"YES YOU DO I AM YOU I AM YOUR ANGER,YOUR HATRED,YOUR STRENGHT. I AM YOUR EVIL" this was no zombie it was pale but it was alive he could feel it in it's hand. Damian tried to reach for his gun but his evil threw him away.
"YOU KNOW I'M STRONGER, YOU CAN HAVE THIS STRENGHT TOO IF YOU ACCEPT IT" said "the evil". Damian crawled to the gun
"ACCEPT IT!" screamed the evil. Damian loaded the gun, took the safety off, aimed, and fired. The took about 25 bullets in the chest, but his skin and clothing grew back
"YOU KNOW YOU CAN'T BEAT ME I'M UNDEFEATABLE" yelled the evil
"don't waste ammo son" said Duncan form outside the store
"HELP!" cried out Damian. Duncan ran in to aid Damian
"what's wrong?" said Duncan. He was completely oblivious of the evil that was smiling at Damian
"you...you can't see him?" Asked Damian.

"How's your knee?" Luke asked Francis.

"Still hurting. Not as much as before." Francis replied.

"Let me take a look at it."

Luke untied the blood-drenched sleeve off Francis's knee and examined his wound.

"It still looks pretty bad." said Luke, tying the sleeve back on.

He stood up.

"We'll have to find a place to stay soon. We can't stay here forever." Luke looked down at Francis. "How well do you think you can stand now?"

"Well...I'll try."

Francis slowly stood up. He was able to support himself for a few seconds before falling back on the ground.

"I think I can walk if you support me."

"Alright."

Francis stood up again. Luke took Francis's arm and swung it over his shoulder. Luke started walking slowly, Francis limping beside him.

They halted when they noticed the stranger walking up to them. Luke wanted to run over and stab him with the scalpel he had kept in his pocket from the hospital, but Francis decided that regardless of what he had done to him, he was just like them: a man trying to find his way in a torn city.

"Hey. Um...thanks. You know, for saving my life back there." Francis called over to the stranger.

The stranger looked at them, expressionless, and continued walking.

"Why are you even thanking him? He nearly killed you!" Luke whispered.

Francis only shrugged.

It didn't matter. They were all survivors.

Where'd everyone go? They die or somthin'?

Anyway I will be posting another part here soon, I'm just so busy with school lately. I'm also trying to figure out where I need Jak to go to join up with Ben, Danny, and Yonie.

So everyone's still here right?

At 4/20/08 09:56 PM, JakFro5t wrote: Where'd everyone go? They die or somthin'?

Anyway I will be posting another part here soon, I'm just so busy with school lately. I'm also trying to figure out where I need Jak to go to join up with Ben, Danny, and Yonie.

So everyone's still here right?

{{Me and a few other people have been talking about a new RP, obviously. However, me and Chicky have agreed that the plot has worked itself into a dead end and has lost sight of the RPG's original intention. The last Survival RP turned into some huge international zombie war, and at the beginning of this one it was generally agreed for it to be a 'pure' survival RP, just surviving against zombies. Adding a little plot and background story here and there was ok, but me and chicky agreed that the Shadow man story line was polluting the whole point.

It's a good story, I have to say, and Chicky's posts were brilliant, but we both agreed, after talking over PM, that it was very linear, not open to many other sub plots other players might want to add, and all in all very 'anti-zombie', in that there didn't appear to be any zombies at all come the sawmill episode.

The whole thing's become split down the middle, with the main group, me you Chicky and a few others, going on the Shadowman line of things, and the other side of things. A whole bunch of fragmented individual plot lines with no cohesion, and all these other players and characters dotted around the city with no obvious way of converging into one solid group. It's become the Roleplay equivillent of the proverbial dead horse which we're just feebly flogging back into shape.}}

this will probably sound really stupid but maybe we should start again.That way the story can start from scratch and we can actually put it in the right direction to what everybody wants.Stupid but it's just an idea.

At 4/21/08 09:54 AM, Misumena wrote: this will probably sound really stupid but maybe we should start again.That way the story can start from scratch and we can actually put it in the right direction to what everybody wants.Stupid but it's just an idea.

((I couldn't agree more, I don't know exactly how writing comes to you guys, but I need to feel it, ya know, the words flowing out of my fingers naturally, and every time I try and write on to this story, well it comes out as an awkward, forced, hideous thing that only gets have done. So I say to hell with it and start over, with strict guidelines to prevent something like this from happening again, after all those who do not remember history are bound to repeat it.))

:btw when you form the rp club count me in

At 4/21/08 06:44 PM, Chickidydow wrote: ((I couldn't agree more, I don't know exactly how writing comes to you guys, but I need to feel it, ya know, the words flowing out of my fingers naturally, and every time I try and write on to this story, well it comes out as an awkward, forced, hideous thing that only gets have done. So I say to hell with it and start over, with strict guidelines to prevent something like this from happening again, after all those who do not remember history are bound to repeat it.))

((Actually, I also must concur. I think this is why I've had such a hard time coming up with what to write. I'm not that good with creative writing as it is, but I've somehow managed to make what I'm posting al least make a little sense. Still, I feel that starting over would be the best choice at this point.))

(( I intentionally have a storyline to my characters, most of the stories are full of drama and when one dies off, another arises. To me, a story with no storyline is a list.

I'm all with killin' zombies, but you need to have a Little drama now and then. Maybe even some surprise drop out/in with characters.

What I'm trying to say is that a good storyline is a good story! If it's a bad horrible over plotted storyline then i'm all with kicking it.

Also, love a little of the side plots. You Need a small or big side plot to really get attached to the character(s). You might not imagine Kerma as I do because I really didn't get time to explain him.

Overall, don't get all paniky with the plots. I want to see the shadowman plot before i can see what you're panicking about.))

At 4/21/08 07:18 AM, Shalashaska-1 wrote: The whole thing's become split down the middle, with the main group, me you Chicky and a few others, going on the Shadowman line of things, and the other side of things. A whole bunch of fragmented individual plot lines with no cohesion, and all these other players and characters dotted around the city with no obvious way of converging into one solid group. It's become the Roleplay equivillent of the proverbial dead horse which we're just feebly flogging back into shape.}}

((I've noticed that. We're all separated into different groups at the moment. You guys, kenshi2 and I, and recently, Kerma and pshermamm (sp?) I guess we should start over, I feel like I was a bit restricted with my writing anyway.))

At 4/21/08 09:48 PM, gamerpeepinpa wrote:

I guess we should start over, I feel like I was a bit restricted with my writing anyway.

((Good idea. Here's my start. I also declare this is in the future.))

It's been 14 years since my older brother Kerma died. And alot of things have happened since then.
I'm Ellen, a 22 year old woman now. Since the death I have moved all over from planet to planet. Danger was everywhere.

I remember my brother's death like it was yesterday. It was all so blurry at the time, but all so clear. Mother would of been proud. But the only thing I have to prove that he existed was that music box of his.

((there's a start of my Character.))