Re: The Never-Ending Story

Day 367 of D-Day:   Jose has safely crossed the border into the USA and made his way into the town of, Chula Vista, located about 5 miles North of the border.  Along the way he had gathered much needed supplies from already looted stores: ammo, a radio, water, canned foods, backpack, a map, and first aid supplies.  This was not without incident though. While scouring a ransacked Wal-Mart , he was attacked by a trio of the undead. One of them, a female, who couldn't have been more than 10 years of age. She was the first to be blown away. She was slower than the others. The other two remaining attackers were of the adult age. Hard to tell their ages because because of the deterioration, and rotting of their flesh.  One he killed by a shotgun blast to the head. The other he used his six shooter on.  Jose has gotten to be good with a gun since D-Day. A skill he's not proud of.

   Studying the map, Jose decides the safest route to LA, would be to follow the interstate freeway 5 North. Walking would take weeks probably. He can't afford to take that long. Time has become of the essence. According to the few Spanish language broadcasts he has listened to; the living population are being decimated by the undead. Their numbers are growing larger by the day.  Jose needs a vehicle.  A car would do, but a motorcycle would be better suited. Gas is of short supply, that he's pretty sure of.  And a motorcycle would navigate the streets with ease, if the highway is closed, or just too cluttered to drive a car.

   Vrooooommmm...vroooooommmm...  the sound is music to his ears!  According to his map; the freeway should be fairly close, about 2 mile from where he's at.  He needs to go North on Broadway Blvd for two blocks, and West on 18th ST.   Jose mounts the motorcycle, pops it into gear and starts off down the street. He sees a gas station up ahead and turns in. He hopes, but does not pray, there is still gas available.  He lifts the gas pump, and pulls the handle. Nada (nothing).  " Puta madre (mother F***er), Jose screams!!!" He checks the next pump. Again, nada.  " Thunk!!"  Jose drops the the asphalt. Just before blacking out, he blurrily sees a woman. She is beautiful.  An angel he thinks...

Re: The Never-Ending Story

DAY 750

Eladio was the quiet type, more by choice than by nature.  Having grown up mostly deaf, his speaking voice was poorly developed, a fact he was exceedingly touchy about.  So much so that he typically would only speak when alone with Gloria or Nestor; for everything else, be it work, socializing or at China Garden ordering take-out, his means of communication were relegated to hand gestures, facial expressions or, more often than not, writing -- which is why he'd long been in the habit of carrying a notebook and small pencil in his breast pocket (the one on the right; the one on the left is where he carried the battery for his top-of-the-line, bad-ass motherfucker hearing aid).

After eleven hours of driving and scavenging, Eladio had pulled the Winnie into a small canyon and laid on his pallet on the Winnie's floor.  Lying there, he stared at the notebook page which contained the very last word he'd ever "said", as it were, to his wife.  They had been seated in the bleachers waiting for Nestor's high school graduation ceremony to begin.  Gloria had asked him what he wanted that night for dinner.  "Meatloaf," he'd written in response.  He'd long had the belief that Gloria made the best damn meatloaf in the known universe.  Her secret -- which she had revealed to him on their third date, which was the first time she'd ever cooked him dinner -- was garlic bread crumbs rather than regular bread crumbs, and half a teaspoon of homemade, extra spicy salsa to give it some kick. 

Over the course of the last two years, Eladio found himself frequently regretting he'd ever written the word.  Of all the things he would have preferred to have been his final words to the woman he loved more than any man has ever loved any woman in the history of the known universe, he never would have guessed in a million years that it would have been that damn word.  Not "I love you."  Or "You complete me."  He would have even settled for "Here's lookin' at you, kid."  But no -- it was god damn, fucking "meatloaf."

Eladio stared at the page a moment longer, then angrily ripped it from the notebook, crumpled it up and tossed it aside.  He flipped back a couple pages and came across the next-to-last thing he'd ever said to his wife. 

"My toenail fungus is back."

Eladio picked up the crumpled "meatloaf" page, smoothed it out and returned it to its place in the notebook...

Re: The Never-Ending Story

Hazers were falling over themselves as they ripped into the still quivering body. Grotesque hands, flailing arms and distorted faces were dripping in blood as they tore and ripped at the flesh, and at each other. It was like sharks in a feeding frenzy. There was nothing Mark or the others could do as they watched in horror. Quickly they moved to fly out before they themselves were taken down by the morbid mob.

They flew on to Montevideo, Uruguay to pick up the last two members of the team who travelled the short distance across the bay from Buenos Aires to meet the plane. The plan was to fly on to Santiago, but reports came in that Santiago had been completely overun by the dead, government had ceased to exist and the airport was closed. The only choice was for the team of four international special agents to proceed by land. Two fully kitted out APC’s with a full array of light and heavy weapons, food, water and petrol were provided by the Uruguayans for the 2000 km journey. The governments that still existed wanted info on that alien vessel. That was a month ago.

He hadn’t heard from Washington now for more than a week. All communication seemed to be down. His team was dead. He still had another machine gun, three more handguns and a dwindling supply of ammo in his pack in the kitchen, along with the one he currently wore, two handguns on his belt, three grenades, a bayonet and an assortment of utility knives. He made the decision and headed for the hatch.

Last edited by getken (2013-08-12 17:09:56)

Re: The Never-Ending Story

After the event was over and we had been returned to our separate communal cabins. There was a period of time before the next scheduled event. After being witness to such a feat I was hardly able to sit still, nevermind read those ancient books. I decided to try and track down the camp counsellor who had revived the mysterious girl. To be honest I was more interested in seeing the girl, but I figured that after and ordeal such as she had just experience, she could use some rest. I slipped out of the cabin and headed towards the Counsellors' Office. When I arrived I made a request for Tom. He rounded the corner, big grin brimming on his young, rugged face.

"Hello Tom. You know, what I saw today was pretty amazing. How you brought that girl back to life."

"It's no problem Riley, that's why I'm here, to keep you kids safe." Still smiling.

"What did you do? Why were you pushing on her chest? Were you trying to restart her heart? And why were you breathing in her mouth? Can you transfer your breath to her?"

"It's called CPR, all the counsellors are trained... Hey, I just had an idea!" There was a gleam in his eye. "Why don't we have a CPR class? I'll gather everyone at the Lodge after lunch, and you can learn for yourself!"

This answer satisfied me for the time being. We discourse for a short while longer before he sent me back to my cabin. I was still to excited sit and read so I decided I might try and find this girl, whom from Tom, I had learnt her name to be Gwen. I didn't even really know if I was supposed to be by the girls cabin, or if this was off limits. There were no other boys around, but I was never one for social norms. I suffered little from anxiety, but lacked the grace of speech of a more refined individual. I had never honed my personal skills by interacting with students, or really much of anyone, while in school. Most of knowledge of human discourse and interaction came from books. So when I did knock on the door to the girls cabin I was slightly surprised by the response.

Last edited by Theli (2013-08-14 01:37:53)

Re: The Never-Ending Story

That night, Eladio dreamt himself leaning on the railing of a cruise ship, the ocean blood-red and crashing at its sides.  His dream self looked aside and saw Gloria serving snickerdoodles and Smart Water to an Asian monk Eladio had watched burn himself alive on live television back in the '60s, his flesh black and still smoldering.  He stared at the two, who seemed involved in a spirited discussion (at least, judging by their facial cues and body language, at both of which Eladio was a master of reading).  After a moment Gloria looked over, flashed him that soft, warm smile Eladio had always loved so much, then flung herself over the railing, bursting into flames on her way to the ocean surface and exploding into dust upon impact.  It was at that moment Eladio asked himself in the dream, "Why am I dreaming this?"

Eladio woke at the sound of his battery-powered alarm clock.  Seven a.m. on the button.  His dream instantly began to fade; twenty seconds later, Eladio couldn't have told you what he'd just dreamed if you put a gun to his head.  He rose to his feet, did a couple lazy stretches, and began his morning routine: twenty laps around the Winnie followed by fifty push-ups, fifty sit-ups and 20 pull-ups from a collapsible bar he squeezed between the sides of the small bathroom doorway.  All in all, not a bad regimen for a mostly-deaf sixty-year-old with a bad knee and the occasional echo of pain from a previously surgically-treated case of CTS.

Afterward it was back on the road in search of other locations to scavenge, and to clean...

Re: The Never-Ending Story

Moving quickly he descended into the darkness of the building. A moment for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunshine, he ran along the dusty hallway, through the occasional shaft of sunlight towards the stairway down to the first level. He could hear the pounding on the front entrance getting louder. He took the stairs in bounds knowing time was running low before the door gave. He didn’t want to have to use his guns. His ammo was running low and the loud bursts would just attract more hazers.

Running through the machinery of the main floor he made the quickest route possible to the kitchen. He burst in and grabbed his gear, threw it on his back, took the second machine gun over his shoulder and paused a moment. “Do I have time to grab a few extra food supplies”, he thought to himself? Just then he heard a crash. The main door gave way. No time for food. He’d have to chance running across the main floor again to get to the stairs. His only way out would be the fire escape off the roof. The loading docks were right next to the main entrance and he couldn’t risk going that way.

He peered out through the speckled glass of the kitchen door into the main work space and didn’t see any movement. Slowly and quietly he moved out of the kitchen and made his way to the biggest piece of machinery he could get behind keeping the main entrance area behind it. He stopped and listened. Still nothing. They must be moving through the offices in the front of the building.

He looked out from around the machine that just a few months ago had been busy putting caps on bottles of beer and now sat as a useless hulk. All clear. He bolted forward. Running as fast as he could he leaped over broken bottles, wooden crates and all sorts of debris lying in the pathways between the machinery and conveyer belts. Just as he made it to the stairs he heard them. They were screaming high and loud as they tore their way toward him, eyes red with hunger.

Re: The Never-Ending Story

(Looking forward to more instalments from others. I'm digging your stories!)


They may be dead but they’re not slow. He flew up the steps with urgency trying to calculate whether he could make it to the hatch without shooting. Not that it mattered. The loud sound of screaming was probably already attracting any other nearby hazers.

When he looked back he saw that there were five on his tail but he was sure he’d seen six from the roof. He whisked down the second level hallway at full tilt and scrambled up the hatch. Climbing out onto the roof he looked back. They were already making their way up the ladder to the hatchway. Their faces were hollow and screaming. Their eyes glistening blood red, no pupils to be seen. The first one had blackened dry torn skin that was peeling off the lower half of its face. It probably happened while fighting others for food. White jaw bone and rotting teeth were exposed. The hair on its head was cropped short in a military style buzzcut. In life this may have been a soldier or cop. In death it was a monster.

Pulling the AK-47 up from his side he aimed at the demons head. The gun was set to single fire. He pulled the trigger. The head exploded with the sharp loud retort of the bullet sending shards of bone and brain raining down on the beasts that followed. The screaming got louder. He shot the four others sending them flailing to the floor. The only way to be sure they were truly dead was to get them in the head. He wasn’t sure he had but he wanted to get off the roof.

Re: The Never-Ending Story

I was working on my story and somehow accidently deleted 3/4 of it, and saved without noticing. That killed my mood for writing. I lost some of it, but I would have lost a hell of a lot more if I hadn't posted it here as well. So here's some re-written stuff.



"Hello, my name is Riley Harris, and I'm looking for Gwen." Formal.

"Why don't you go the fuck away! She has been through enough already!" Not so formal.

"I am sorry to disturb her, I only wished to inquire on her well being."
There was a brief silence then the unknown female voices piped through the wooden door one more time.

"She says she will be out in a minute. Wait on the steps."

I obeyed. In short order the door swung open to unveil to me the slight frame of blonde girl who looked to be roughly the same age as my own. She he had beautiful watery blue eyes that glimmered in the midday sun. She sat next to me.

"I'm Gwen. What do you want?"

"Oh, I'm sorry to bother you. I saw what happened at the lake, and I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Your friends seemed rather perturbed by my presence, why was that?"

"There's been some boys who'd come by earlier, they were making fun of me. When I fell off the dock my top ripped and everyone saw me... I thought you were there?" Suddenly she was on the offensive.

"I was there, but I was so entrance by the whole affair I was scarcely paying attention to your garb. You came back from the dead you know?"

She stared at me for a moment. She saw something, though I did not know what it was.
"Yeah, I suppose. You're weird."

"I've been told this before." I didn't take it as an insult, at this point I was already well aware of my differences from others my age.

"It's okay. At least you're not a dick."

"So what was it like?"

"What?"

"Dying and coming back to life."

She gave me another long glance. I couldn't tell what went on behind her eyes. Was she assessing me? My palms began to sweat, a trait that of which I am unaccustomed.

"I remember slipping and hit my head on the dock. I don't remember being in the water at all. Then I woke up and I was coughing, and I felt a warm tingling all through my body, on the back of my head, in my back, through my arms and legs. And everyone was standing around me, looking at me, and..." Her eyes began to mist up, and I, slightly awkwardly, put my arm around her. It was almost instinctual, I must have read in a book somewhere.

"I'm sorry. It was too soon to ask that question of you. I should have realized this, but I don't interact with others much."

She sniffled for a second then stopped. She listened for a moment, complete silence.

"Come on, let's get out of here, all the girls are listening."




I also noticed that so far my story is not really much of a horror story, and probably won't be for a quite a while. I never really end up where I plan to from the start when writing.

Last edited by Theli (2013-08-20 01:43:36)

Re: The Never-Ending Story

Anyone else got something? I've written a bit more and have plans for many more pages of story. I've been enjoying everyone's stories so far, keep it up!

Re: The Never-Ending Story

I've got a couple entries I've written ahead of time but I need to clean them up a bit first.  Soon, my friend.  Soon...

Re: The Never-Ending Story

I edit mine before posting and still find errors after posting. I just edit the post as I notice them. No spell check on my comp for some reason.

Re: The Never-Ending Story

Normally I'm just making them up as I type them in the reply box, but I thought I'd write up a few ahead of time to establish an arc, so that I'm actually going somewhere with the story and not just shooting from the hip in each post.  So the ones I'm going back over, I'm planting seeds in them that I hope to pay off later.  I should have another entry by tomorrow night. smile

Re: The Never-Ending Story

He closed the hatch but there was no way to lock it from the outside. Sprinting across the hot tar roof toward the fire escape he heard a metallic crash and screaming behind him. One of them had made it through the hatch and was lurching its way toward him. It had been shot in the neck and its head was tilted off to one side so that it was almost resting on the right shoulder. The wound had caused nerve damage as well because it was dragging a leg.

He stopped at the edge of the roof and looked down to the fire escape. He’d have to jump. When he looked back up the creature was just ten meters from him. He lifted the gun and fired. The walking dead was dead again, splayed out on the blazing rooftop twitching, its mouth moving like a fish out of water gasping for air, blood running out of its eyes.

Turning back to the edge of the building he climbed over and lowered himself down until he was hanging by his hands. When he let go he dropped the remaining few feet to the grated metal landing that was the top of the fire escape. Looking around he could see no movement. He could only hear a few birds and the constant hum coming from the alien vessel. He adjusted his load of gear and started down the escape.

The old metal grating had rusted some and was not very stable, but he wasted no time heading toward the ground. As he got to the landing that led to the bottom he heard the screaming of a hazer heading around the corner of the old brick building making a bee line directly towards him. Bastards he thought. Somehow this one knew he was going to try to get out this way and had waited to hear him come down.

Last edited by getken (2013-08-28 21:47:01)

Re: The Never-Ending Story

Eladio had just crossed the border into New Mexico when the first wave of pain crept through his chest.  He had pulled over as quickly and carefully as he could but failed to avoid a two-foot drop-off on the shoulder of the road.  The front of the Winnie had gone into the ditch, leaving it teetering on the edge of the highway, its rear wheels barely touching the asphalt. 

Now, as he leaned against the steering wheel struggling for breath, his body rigid with pain, Eladio's thoughts ran to his father, who passed away of a heart attack at 47.  His family had a history of heart disease; Eladio had long wondered if he would make it to that age himself, and counted himself fortunate the day his own 48th birthday came and went.  But that was twelve years ago, and surely it was just a matter of time before that proverbial check found its way into the mail.

Finally, after what felt like ages, the pain subsided and precious oxygen found its way into Eladio's lungs.  He breathed deeply and went limp in his seat, the pain having exhausted him completely.  Now would be a bad time, Eladio thought, for something untoward to occur -- now, when he was spent and weak and lacked even the energy to stand himself up.

But if any law still existed in this dead new world, it was Murphy's Law -- and Eladio cursed his luck when he looked up to see a heavily fortified van pull up and stop in front of the Winnie...

Re: The Never-Ending Story

I didn't know that we had anything to hide, but she took me by the hand and led me towards a hiking trail. A place, she said, no one else would be. She told me all about herself and her family back home. She didn't live in the city like I did, but it an outlying town named Hawksbury. Her parents ran the local mom & pop gas station and convenience store and they made a comfortable sum doing so. She went to Hawksbury Elementary and had lots of friends there, none of which were here at camp with her.

I then told her all about myself. How I had no friends back at my school, and that I spent most of my time with my head in the books. This didn't seem to displease her so I ventured forth. I explained to her my preoccupation with defeating death. I had told her I had been interested in it for a long time, but I glossed over some of the details of my early experiments. Not that I was ashamed. I had just read that girls did not like such things. This brought me to the point of why she had captivated my attention. We continued to talk about anything that came up. Sometimes we would just walk in silence and she would take my hand and hold it for a while. After this we had finished the full 2.5 km trail and had looped back to where we had started before we knew it. We walked back to the girls' cabin and she walked inside, I continued on to the boys' cabin with a stiff grin on my face.

Having already missed the majority of pottery class, our last scheduled event, I sat in my bunk perusing some of the pictures in Agrippa's Of Occult Philosophy, thinking of Gwen. Before long the lunch bell rang out and we were summoned to the lunch room. When I arrived I scanned the room searching for her, but I could not spot her. I sat at the end of one of the long tables grossly populated by the rest of the boys at camp. I ate my food quietly and awaited the Tom to address the crowd. After the food had been served and everybody was seated Tom silenced everybody and made the announcement.

Last edited by Theli (2013-08-29 03:44:12)

Re: The Never-Ending Story

Eladio slid out from behind the wheel and onto the floor.  He heard the van's panel door slide open outside as he slowly, painfully pulled himself toward the light switch by the Winnie's door.  Move it, old man.  Get up.  Get up, god damn it!

But despite his best effort, Eladio was too severely drained and had barely made it a foot before collapsing altogether.  The last thing he saw before blacking out was a man with a nail-embedded riot baton dangling from a strap on his waist cautiously step in through the Winnie door.

Exactly one hour and fifty seven minutes later, Eladio's eyes blinked open.  He snapped alert, alarmed by his unfamiliar surroundings.  He was alone, lying in the fortified van he had seen pull up earlier, an IV plugged into his arm.  He plucked it out, clenched his fist repeatedly to regain sensation in it (How long was I lying here?).  He gripped the panel door handle and quietly, carefully pulled the door open.

He climbed out of the van, but, still groggy, lost his balance and slapped a hand against the van to catch himself.  The sound of flesh on metal caught the attention of two men who were checking the front of the Winnie, the first man being the one Eladio had caught glimpse of before passing out.  The second man, much larger than the first, reminded Eladio of that bodybuilder he had seen play the Hulk on TV back in the '70s.   

The first man held up his palms to show he wasn't armed.  "It's okay," the man said.  "We come in peace."  He nudged his heavily-muscled buddy.  "Isn't that right, Lou?"

Re: The Never-Ending Story

D-Day Minus 1:

Bruce put the groceries down on the kitchen counter.  "At least I'll have food when the giant bunnies attack," he muttered at the nearby toaster.  He actually had bought a good amount of food to make dinner for his wife tomorrow night.  He wanted to surprise her with some home cooking after her week on the road.  He just hoped that people didn't freak out over the "doom cloud" and tie up the roads for Jenny.  "So did you get her a present?" he asked Jimmy as he tossed him a banana.  The monkey took the banana and scampered out of the kitchen.  "Ingrate.  One more day."

Re: The Never-Ending Story

He turned to position himself to get a good shot at the running devil when his boot caught on a metal rung. He went down hard, his foot catching in between the metal steps and the rest of his body getting flung sideways off the edge of the escape about six feet above the ground, where he hung, swaying back and forth upside down. Both of his packs fell off and hit the dry dirt, sending up a cloud of dust. The AK fell to the ground too. The other machine gun that was strapped to his body swung below him hanging off his back.

By the time he realized his position, the hazer was on top of him. He tried to reach for the gun but it swung away from him. His position was impossible. The screaming demon grabbed him and tried to bite his face. Mark kicked his free leg and swung back to avoid contact and the hazer bit into his jacket, getting no skin but tearing the heavy fabric. Trying to push the monster away from him with his left arm, the only weapon he could grasp with his right hand was one of the box cutters he’d found in the factory that was now in his pocket. The screaming fiend reeled back for a second attempt to bite him. Mark slashed the raging red eyed ghoul with all he had across the neck. The hazer staggered back, it’s mouth still open in mid scream but only the sound of gurgling came out. A thin dark red line appeared on its neck. Suddenly its head dropped backward. Deep red blood started spurting like a fountain from its open neck. The thing was still walking upright, its arms outstretched trying to find him.

Last edited by getken (2013-08-30 10:46:49)

Re: The Never-Ending Story

"Alright boys and girls, some of you may have heard about an incident that happened earlier today. One of our campers was nearly drowned. Thanks to the CPR training that myself and the rest of our staff has received that person was saved. Now, I can't certify you in CPR, but I can teach the basics, something everybody should know. Anyone who wants to learn come to Lodge number one by the camp entrance after lunch. If you're not interested report to your regular activity. Thanks everyone. Eat up!"

I went to the lodge as soon as I had finished eating. I didn't expect Gwen to show up for obvious reasons, but to my surprise she did arrive. Not many other kids did though.

"Heya, Riley!" she smiled and strolled up to me.

"Hi Gwen. I didn't expect you to be here."

"Well I figure if CPR saved my life, maybe one day I could save another!"

"A noble sentiment." I nodded approvingly.

We sat in the grass and talked for a bit before Tom arrived with another counselor to teach the class. He began by explaining that it was important to first address the unconscious person if possible. He then went into the explanation of listening for breathing, watching the chest, breathing air and pumping their chest, which is to be done with both hands, one on top of the other. He also mentioned something else which had intrigued me. He mentioned the importance of quick reaction, the longer someone is not breathing the more damage can be done to their brain. After this we were to take a partner and do a mock attempt.

Last edited by Theli (2013-08-31 03:32:59)

Re: The Never-Ending Story

"&%**%&___++ Mnikornul gawasnot proustinolug beem dap trokul jloyburd."

Said the interface that seemed to go awry slowly but faster than expected... Then it happened, the wires began to lock themselves on da one and unlucky Schnilburg. Blood started spraying all over while he was singing No Pain No Gain suspiciously loud...

Re: The Never-Ending Story

The first man extended his hand.  "Name's Rory," he said.  "And you are?"

Eladio hesitated.  Over the last two years, on his own in the Winnie, every survivor he encountered had been aggressive and hostile.  But Rory's nonchalance and easy smile had disarmed him.  He thought a moment; these two men could have left him for dead or, worse yet, put a bullet in his head and taken everything he'd scavenged, Winnie included.  But not only had they not, they had actually treated him.  Given him an IV and watched over him.  It's okay.  They're good guys.

Eladio shook Rory's hand.  Rory's grip was firm but not painfully so.  He shook three times and released.  A sign of strong character, Eladio thought. 

"So.  You got a name or don't you?" Rory asked.  Eladio touched a finger to his ear, then moved the finger to his lips as if to say "Shhh."  Sign language for "I'm deaf."  Rory tilted his head, not understanding.  His big friend said "That means he's deaf," in a voice not unlike Eladio's -- one impeded by a life time of near-deafness.  That's when Eladio knew.  That doesn't just look like Lou Ferrigno.  That IS Lou Ferrigno!

Eladio dug out his wallet, produced a driver's license which expired on his birthday the year before and showed it to the men.  "Eladio," Rory said, reading the driver's license.  "Pleasure to meet you."  He handed Eladio's driver's license back.  "Looks like you've been surviving on the road all this time, huh?" he continued.  "What if I was to tell you, you don't have to survive alone anymore?  We have a camp.  Two hundred survivors.  Farmland.  Shelter.  All the protection you need."  Eladio wavered.  This sounded too good to be true.

"Sounds too good to be true, doesn't it?" Rory commented, as if reading Eladio's mind.  "But don't take my word for it.  Come back with us.  See for yourself.  And if it doesn't suit you, you can go on your way.  No harm, no foul."

Eladio studied the men a moment, hesitant.  Finally he nodded his head.  Rory said with a wide open smile, "Good man.  I promise you won't regret it..."

Re: The Never-Ending Story

Mark swung himself up, back onto the rusted stairs and dislodged his foot from between the metal steps. His ankle hurt like hell. He pulled the weapon up into firing position. The hazer’s head, still attached by the back part of its neck, was hanging upside down on its back. It was walking in circles, then walked into the wall next to the fire escape. It bounced off it but kept trying to move forward, bouncing off it each time. Trying to navigate upside down and backwards wasn’t working for it.

Some quick deep breaths and he gathered his wits about him. Favoring his good leg and gripping the metal railing, he eased off the fire escape. Testing his ankle he put some pressure on it, then gingerly took a few steps to try to walk off the pain. It was damaged but seemed not to be broken.

Quickly picking up his gear, he pulled out the bayonet from its sheath attached to the backpack and looked at what in other circumstances may have been a comical scene from a low budget zombie film. The creature was banging against the wall trying to walk forward. Blood stained the wall and covered the whole torso. The head, hanging upside down off its back staring at him, bounced with each of the body’s movements to try to move forward.

Last edited by getken (2013-09-12 22:50:43)

Re: The Never-Ending Story

"Alright take  your partner and one of you lay on the ground, like Lisa here." Tom pointed at his partner Lisa laying on a blanket on the grass.
"You be dead Riley. I don't wanna do it."

"I'm not dead, I'm unconscious and I guess neither were you, but that's fine." I lay on the grass.

"Now ask your partner if they are conscious. If they do not respond, kneel next to them and turn your head and listen to their breath."

"Close your eyes! Riley, are you conscious?"

I didn't respond. Gwen knelt next to me and her hair brushed against my face as she turned her head to listen to my breath

"Okay, they're not breathing. What you would do next is plug their nose, and blow air into the unconscious person's mouth. Now I don't want you to do that. I want you to plug their nose and blow your breath out to the side."

Gwen plugged my nose. She moved in, her lips touched mine, just for a moment, but left a kiss to linger there for ages. My first kiss. My eyes shot open just as she was moving away, a smile already spreading on her lips and a twinkle in her eye.

"You conscious now?"

Re: The Never-Ending Story

Wielding the bayonet he slowly approached the short-circuiting hazer. With one good blow the head separated from the torso and rolled a few feet away. The body crumpled in a heap at the base of the wall. He limped over to the head and using the flat of the knife turned it to face him. It was still alive gnashing its jaws together. If it could have, it would try to eat him even though it had no body. He couldn’t believe it was still moving. It’s blood red eyes stared at him. With disgust he took the point of the blade and pushed it through the eye into the brain. The mouth stopped moving and blood started seeping out of both eyes creating a dirt red pool under the head, in the shape of a plate.

He cleaned the blood off the blade by wiping it on the rags of the headless torso. Sheathing the blade back in its scabbard he slowly scanned the area. All was silent again, except for the low hum of whatever that alien thing was. Figuring it was about a half a mile away from him, he moved with difficulty into the shadows and started trekking towards it.

It was going to be a long hard painful walk.

Re: The Never-Ending Story

Part 1: The New Flesh

Apologies, I couldn't find a way to delete the posts here. After re-reading the first post, I realized the content wasn't in line with the intended parameters.

Last edited by Professor Oblivion (2013-09-17 01:05:18)