Another One!
Title: Looking for Sancuary
Author: Kittey-Colors
Fandom: Left 4 Dead
The clouds poured rain down hard on the tall, skinny, pale as a ghost, young girl. Her shoulders were slumped over and her face was completely cold. She trudged her feet as she walked. That's how you ruin shoes you know. Her left hand was holding a machete; the right an AK-47. Two pipe bombs were in her pull over pockets zipped in. Her backpack was full of ammo and two hand guns. She was alone. So, you're holding around...24 pounds at the moment, give or take depending on the pistols you have, not to mention anything else you've got. ...Pale as a ghost eh? Oh, and, the AK-47 really should be held with both hands. It would increase accuracy and lower chances of incident, as well as conserving precious ammo. Just because it's possible doesn't mean it's practical.
Her parent's had left her in the house. The note that burned in her pants pocket still stuck in her head. Why in the world would you stick a burning note, oh wait, you mean figuratively. The picture of her parents and her at the beach happily was in the same pocket as the note. But instead of burning, it soothed. She vowed that she would see her parents again, and just like anything else that wasn't human, kill them. They had left their only child behind to die. Some parents you have there.
She had gotten into her dads gun stash that he, thankfully, was stupid enough to leave behind. So...he abandoned you (I'm guessing because of the Green Flu) yet didn't take his guns? She had raided a neighbors garage after they left and took the black machete they had for cutting weeds and such away, she considered it her friend. At least it's not a Katana. After she had gotten what she needed she went deep into the city to find help or other survivors. Shouldn't you leave that to someone who's in good health? And why go further into a city of all things? You want to get away from high populated zones. She stopped and looked into a store window and looked at her reflection. Oh boy, here we go with the mirror description cliche.
Her hair was in 'adorable' pigtails that reached the lower half of her back Perfect for a zombie to pull like a rope. and she wore her 'favorite' pull over coat. Her pull over was pink with beautiful floral printing on it. She wore a short skirt that matched her coat and some cute pink shoes. So you left your house and didn't change into something more appropriate? She was exactly like her parents wanted her, girly and adorable. She looked beyond her reflection and saw that the store was a clothing store. Well, at least you can get a change of clothes here. At the end of the hall were all the fitting rooms were was a red door with a house sign with a plus in the middle.
Safe house. That's...contrived convenient.
She checked the door to check if it was unlocked. She opened the door hawked out for zombies. She shot the zombies she saw and looked in every changing room and shot every zombie. And the gunfire strangely didn't attract any others. She opened the door to the safe room and walked in. She did something else. She did another something else. She heard the terrifying screech of the Hunter and saw it pounce at her from across the hall. She slammed it shut, slamming the door in its face.
She shot at the pouncing demon until it was completely dead, then looked around the room. There was a fridge, TV, radio, ammo, guns, I see absolutely no reason why a safe house (at least one not made by citizens) would have guns and ammo. Medicine and food yes. Weapons, no. In the game it works but isn't logical. In a story it's just it just takes up another notch of stupid. and up to fifty health packs. As quickly as possible she put down her bag and unzipped it. She arranged the ammo, machete, the hand guns and grabbed 3 health packs. Threw open the fridge and it was fully stocked, apparently no one knew about this safe house. I'm calling bullshit. it's way too convenient that you'd find one so well stacked for no good reason.
She ate as much as she could. She had been without food for so long she forgot the last time she ate. Oh really now, you couldn't have gone without for that long. You're in a city. There are corner stores, markets, what about your house? She had lost so much weight and gained so much hate. Walking into the bathroom she looked in the long body mirror Another mirror description? and looked at the 'sweet' 'cute' 'adorable' and 'oh so harmless' girl, that girl was now drowning in hate. So you've said, time and time again. Honestly, is hate the only feeling you experience? Awfully two dimensional. Then quickly she ran out of the room for a quick second to the store and grabbed as many clothes she thought she would like. Time for a makeover to reflect her new attitude. Bring on the black.
Without caring she threw on what clothes she liked, stole some more pull over coats It's not technically stealing anymore if everyone is dead. she liked and put them in her bag. Liking something doesn't mean it'll serve you well. Find practical, useful clothing. Even though her bag seemed small when put together just right she could put in so much. She heard paper folding on her pocket and pulled out the note and picture from it and opened the note.
Dear Alaya,
Me and your mother couldn't find you when the sickness came to our town. I am sorry but we had to leave then and there before we caught it. Don't hate us for doing the right thing, Who says something like that? How campy. we still love you. We hope that you get this letter.
Love, Daddy.
Couldn't find her? She was upstairs in her room asleep! It's kind of funny that they just booked it on their mary sue daughter like that. Damn them to burning torturous hell. She gritted her teeth. Anger burned inside her. She looked at the picture of her so called 'family'. They never gave a damn about her. They never cared about how she was or what she did. Worst of all she was figuring this out just now. She picked up two empty adrenaline shots and stabbed them threw the note and picture and nailed them to the wall. She took a eye liner pencil and wrote under the picture and wrote. Only after you leave will survivors miraculously find this untouched safe house, right?
These lying bastards left me here, left me alone here. I was a college student majoring in language and creative writing. I am only 22 years old. Constantly wanting to impress them and once I did everything they asked, they turned around and left me behind. To anyone who sees these two please do me a big favor. PUT A FUCKING CAP IN THEIR ASSES! The man stretched out on the bed, letting out a grunt as muscles he'd forgotten existed groaned in protest. Who would have thought that such well stocked places could still be found? The only thing he missed was the usual writing on the wall, sometimes the only entertainment around...if killing zombies wasn't entertainment enough. There was one thing though, from his position on the mattress he could just make out something from the bathroom. He squinted, trying to bring the writing into focus. The next morning there was a corresponding scrawl underneath the first one: I hate college students.
The last sentence was carved into the wall with her machete. How EDGY. She growled deeply to herself and walked over to the other end of the door. She watched outside the other door to see if there was any zombies. She wasn't disappointed there was at least twenty out there. Well if you hadn't opened fire and alerted them they probably wouldn't be. She took the bed sheet from the bed and hung it over the door so that the zombies wouldn't be able to see her. She walked over to the ugly matted bed So...the safe house that's stocked with not only food, television and radio, medication, and weapons, has mattresses that are in terrible condition? Something is a bit off here. and laid down on it. She took out her blanket from the bag and hugged it to herself tightly.
"Don't worry, we'll get out of here soon" She whispered to her blanket softly as if talking to someone. probably a dead baby brother. She closed her eyes hesitantly and began drifting off to sleep. She slept through out the night without making a sound or even stirring a single bit.
As soon as the light hit her eyes they flew open and she looked around. Safe room still the same and she was still in the same nightmare that she has been in for the past God knows how long. How long has it been? It couldn't have been too long if her hair was still in long ass pigtails. She sat up and walked to the bathroom. The note she left on the bathroom wall wasn't a dream either, it was still there practically burning into her eyes. She looked away and looked at the mirror. She still saw that happy go lucky girl that was ready and waiting to please her parents anyway possible.
She ripped off the hair bands and let her hair fall. Oh, here comes the makeover. Time to cut off that hair. This is a statement to herself about her change inside! She walked over the table and picked up her black machete and back to the bathroom. Holding all her hair in one hand and machete in the other she swiftly sliced off a good three inches from her hair and threw it into the trash. Just three inches? That's not much of a statement. Oh, and hair can't just be sliced in one motion like in anime. No really, you'd have to saw at it a bit. And it hurts, even if the blade is sharp, which it probably isn't if you've been using it. She looked at her new look, it was amazing how one little change made such a difference. Smiling at herself as she walked out she snatched up her backpack and swung it on her back took her blanket and put it in there too. Put your hair in a ponytail or bun. Why the hell would you want it getting into your face when facing hordes? She grabbed her AK-47, stocked up on bullets and pulled off the sheet to the door.
To all surprise there was no zombies. She listened carefully for the growl of a hunter. Nothing. Listened for the gurgle of a boomer or a cough of a smoker. Nothing still. She shifted some to feel the ground beneath her and listened and felt carefully for a tank's large hands punching the ground or his hard breathing. Silence. Praying with all her might she took a Molotov cocktail and lit it, she threw it as far as she could and watched the fire spread. My opinion of your intelligence is rapidly decreasing after seeing you so carelessly handle FIRE. The scream of a witch wasn't heard.
There wasn't anything in sight. Whatever happened to the pipebombs? She opened the door and looked around. The door led to an alley behind the store, it was completely empty. She walked out and readied herself for the ambush. She took a deep breath and walked around. She had done this a hundred times, why did she feel so scared this time? Because you probably are going to meet up with others and need to finally show weakness. With complete silence walking down the alley she kept her guard up in extreme high and made sure no zombies were near. Wow, you're showing a hell of a lot more caution than you did before. What happened to just walking around and shooting zombies without reloading and having them rush you? Finally, she heard something. The wheezing dog like laugh was coming towards her.
"Shit" She muttered. She looked in front of her. No Jockey in sight. She waited for a minute then the loud squeal came. Swiftly she swung her machete around from behind and cut the small ugly creatures chest and blood splattered everywhere. No dice. You see, you're not Mario, you can't just swing your cape and propel your foes back. Using a knife in that fashion against something leaping at you is more likely to twist the blade back or fracture your arm than it is to slice and push them. Because of the force they're exerting in mid air. "Fuck you" She said and kicked it into a trash can. Now that's just mean. Confidence rising with every step she was back to the kill-whatever-the-hell-wasn't-human mode. They are human. Just like a dog infected with rabies is still a dog. It doesn't magically change species because of infection.
The ground began shaking as if something was charging. She looked around carefully to make sure nothing was going to sneak up on her. Even in groups the special infected can sneak up on you. She's been the exception for way too long. She looked to the side of her and almost in a split second she jumped to the side and the charger rammed his heavily muscled arm into a building. Gunshots banged threw the alley's as she shot at the one armed demon. One final shot popped him in the head and he collapsed to the ground. You are a very bad shot, if you'd just put that machete away, you'd waste less ammo. She about screamed when she turned around and there was a zombie horde was coming at her. Say hello to the Director, mary sue.
Shooting and shoving for her life she killed any and every zombie in sight. Again, I'm calling BS. You're just one person who's malnourished, holding an AK-47 with one hand and a big blade with another (how would you even reload?), with long hair that's probably now in your eyes. And hordes tend to be about 30-50 people strong. Even if you were in perfect health you'd be a goner. Game over. She sucked in lungs full of cold air and breathed out warm steam. Slightly shaken up by the onslaught of putrid excuses for humans Wow, I would not like to see this girl in a hospital. she walked down the alley opening every door and closing it when it was empty. Once in awhile grabbing pill bottles It didn't even matter what they were, they could be anything from laxatives to something much more deadly. Are they even brand name? Most tend to be generic, and those names and directions can be more than a little confusing. and adrenaline shots Are you so sure that those are 'adrenaline shots'? I mean, you're just finding stuff lying around. I would never inject random syringes into my veins. stuffing them in her back. Christ Almighty, is this how you've been getting by!? She didn't care about anyone else at this point she needed to keep HERSELF alive. It's a miracle you're still alive with the way you approach medication.
One or two zombies surprised her, the others she obliterated with her AK-47 and or used the Molotov's to burn a whole crowd. where they ran into buildings and set other things on fire. Suddenly, without warning, she heard the cough of a smoker and the tongue wrapped around her. She squirmed in protest and wrapped her hands around a door. Wait, but aren't you holding your AK-47 and a Machete? Just cut the tongue for crying out loud.
"Let me the fuck go!" Her voice was shrieking and she pulled her body from the tongue. The smoker pulled and pulled and tried to decapitate her. With it's tongue? Strangle perhaps, but decapitate? He must be quite determined. Getting one arm free she grabbed the tongue that was pulling her and began pulling it towards her. I doubt it. Considering the tongue must have strength akin to the type you'd see in Pythons. The smoker began being pulled forward until he got to the edge of the roof. "C'mere you bitch!" She shouted and the smoker fell to the ground. So, he can lift with his tongue but he can't pull her off a door? Without being able to regain itself the smoker fell face down the pavement with a bone crunching splat.
Ripping the tongue off her she growled angrily and walked on. Oh please, you were about to cry like a baby a second ago...what happened to your weapons? Even though it was during the day the air was cold as ice. Frost was forming on windows of old stores and wind shields of old cars. Her feet began to feel heavy as she forced herself to move on and on. She wasn't tired or anything she was just starting to feel weak. Subtle. Wearing herself out with this fighting for her life bull. Wishing with all her might that she could miraculously find a cure of this sickness and be able to just make everything better. ...you don't seem to care about all the sick people you're killing now. Why would you want to cure them?
Sadly that wouldn't happen any time this life time. Strength began to regain in her body as she walked threw the city of hell. Even though with earth logic, you'd be getting weaker. Some lights were on and some were broken from gunshots. Buildings upon buildings abandoned and full of zombies and other infected. Once she started getting towards the busy streets more and more zombies started showing their faces. Everyday people who'd had their lives taken from them as well as their bodies. Driven to dementia, both adults and children alike. Just once, I'd like to see some sympathy in a story for the fallen. And as you can tell, I'm not talking about the immune. Zombies are an easy way out to act like a sociopath and still end up looking like the good guy. It's guilt free. If it was Old Yeller or a child, and she'd kicked it into a trash can after slashing its chest open, everyone would be pissed. Gun banging with every trigger pull she blew off all limbs from arms to heads some in the square of their backs. With the never-ending ammo. She had made it down town were all the gangs and mafias had run the entire town from the single grain of sand that started to the pot whole that ended this city. ...
The sound of a cat-hiss scratched at her ears with anger. That's pretty special. She had never heard something like this before, it was the hiss of a cat mixed with a deep throaty growl. That would be a Hunter. She stopped in her tracks and looked around wearily trying to find what was making that noise. Some trash cans tipped over spilling garbage and whatever else was in them. Loading her AK-47 HACK! she turned around and saw what exactly was making the sound. You should probably pay attention to your surroundings as well.
Limbs long and bent in two places body long as well. It's hands and feet had black talon fingers and toes that were covered in blood. Shrieking like a tortured deformed cat it leaped into the air at her. She backed up and shot at the long limbed creature hitting the limbs and body with every shot. She jumped out of the way and it tripped on its own limbs. Unmoving and not breathing it laid there for a good thirty seconds.
"What in the fucking world are you?" She said walking to the lifeless body. She looked it over and thought of a name for it. "Spider" I still say Hunter. She kicked it in the solar plexus to make sure it was completely dead. She walked to the other side of the kitchen she had ran into Random scene change is random. grabbing the door handle on the door and opened it. Walking out of the alley she stopped dead in her tracks, paralyzed with complete fear.
Ten feet to her left that was completely blocked off by a turned over eighteen wheeler and at least fifteen other cars. Standing there body's massive and breathing hard were two tanks, she hadn't seen any of these yet but she read about them on walls. How is that even possible if you've been doing this for 'so long'? She noticed just one glanced at her and she began running for her life. Make sure to fire that AK-47 in the air, and throw some Molotovs around while you're at it. They love that. The two of them roared with anger as they charged at her. The Director is getting sick and tired of you god-modding your way out of these situations and is determined to rectify this.
"DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!!!" She screamed into the night hoping someone other than zombies would hear her. That's right, summon the horde. She dodged large pieces of road and once in awhile a car. She turned a corner to an alley and turned around shooting at the two giants that raced after her. But it'd finally jammed since she'd never learned how to properly maintain it. To which she thought WAS a way out, turn out to her end. "Oh, I am so fucking screwed" She said to herself. She had to take it, she was going to die here and now. Enter Deus Ex Machina.
A female hand grabbed her upper arm and pulled her in as soon as the two tanks barreled threw the brick wall. Life practically flashing before her eyes she looked at her rescuer. Her brain didn't register them for a long time, she laid on the floor and passed out from shock and from lack of breath. Let it be Zoey. Please. Because if it's Rochelle then-
"She'yoot, it's a lucky thin' we caught 'er in time" God no, not my favorite character. Ellis, it's a mary sue. You know their goals in these stories. Warn Nick as well! Said the young mechanic named Ellis. He wore a blue hat with a tow truck printed on it, a yellow shirt with the unbutton overalls. "She would'a been a tank pancake!" Ellis added picking the fainted and winded girl up and putting her on the couch. Are you sure that it's even safe to stay here anymore? Two Tanks just crashed into the place.
"Kudos to you for catching her just in the nick of time Rochelle" The tall dark conman named Nick added. NO. NO KUDOS. You've just royally screwed with the Director. He wore a white suit with a purple button up shirt. I know what Nick looks like, as well as the others. Considering mary sue is still out, there's no point to describing their appearance. His hair was slicked back with gel and he had a five o'clock shadow on it. Coach was a tall slightly over weight African man, he had a chocolate bar in one hand and a grenade launcher in the other. He looked down at the girl.
"Hey, she's the girl from the other safe house we were at a couple of hours ago, she must've taken the long way" Called it. Coach moved the girls bright red hair and looked at her face. Her skin was rather clammy and she was covered in sweat from so much running. Two gigantic infected, currently in the building.
"Poor girl took the long haul 'ere musta not known about the subway you could use to get 'ere" Please to be not murdering his accent anymore. Ellis stated for a fact, sitting on the ground next to a green lamp. He had a machine gun with a silencer on it strapped on his back with a guitar on the other strap. Ellis looked at the backpack she had on one shoulder and decided he should investigate. Gently he slipped the bag off her shoulder and unzipped it, the first thing Ellis saw was a blanket. The blanket was crochet into a beautiful pattern in pink, blue, white, yellow, and, green. He took it out and began examining the actually clean blanket. Amazing isn't it?
"Ellis sweetie, don't mess with the girls stuff" Rochelle said, walking over to him. "The blanket might be the only thing she has right now of her long lost kid sibling who was adopted and kept in the basement by their parents, and who she'll probably come into contact with again, only this time as a special infected that's a Hunter." Rochelle took the blanket and laid it on Alaya who was still out cold. The girls eyes opened just a crack and she took the blanket pulled it up to her nose.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, she did this for a little while. Ellis, Coach, and Rochelle watched her with questioning eyes. Nick seemed to watch her without minding the fact she was breathing threw her blanket. Don't look directly into its eyes, Nick. That's how they get you. She sat up and looked around her. Eye's locked with Ellis when she saw him.
"Who are you?" Alaya sounded very groggy and shaken. Ellis gave a crooked smile to her barely parting his lips. Hey, get your fingers out of there! He lifted himself up and looked at her.
"Name be Ellis, what's yer name pretty lady?" Ellis grinned at her. Alaya couldn't help but smile at his playful grin. Ellis makes everything better, even barrels of undiluted hate.
"Names Alaya, and how did I get in here again?" Already forgotten the gargantuan infected that tried to make you into paste? She yawned deeply and looked at Rochelle. She smiled at her and sat next to her on the decent sized couch.
"We got you in here before the tank's made you into road kill…you look exhausted hon" Rochelle looked at the dark circles that ringed around her eyes like a raccoon's mask. Those are the marks of an experienced warrior, she needs no one. She blinked some and looked at her tilting her head. "When did you sleep last?"
"Last night, I think I got to the safe house around four in the morning…I have an internal clock" She admitted. Admitted...what a weird way to put it. She could tell time without even looking at the clock. Rochelle shook her head and stood up. remembering the clock that had been hanging by the fridge in that safe house.
"Get some rest guys, we'll need it for tomorrow" Rochelle took a pillow from the other side of the couch and laid on the floor closest to the wall. Ellis laid on his back tipping his hat over his eyes and pulling his hands behind his head as his pillow. the Coach and Nick leaned against the wall, Nick fell asleep almost instantly and ended up laying on his side. Alaya rolled on her stomach and fell asleep as well.
Director: WHERE ARE MY FUCKING TANKS!? (/>_<)/ l____l
Author: Kittey-Colors
Fandom: Left 4 Dead
The clouds poured rain down hard on the tall, skinny, pale as a ghost, young girl. Her shoulders were slumped over and her face was completely cold. She trudged her feet as she walked. That's how you ruin shoes you know. Her left hand was holding a machete; the right an AK-47. Two pipe bombs were in her pull over pockets zipped in. Her backpack was full of ammo and two hand guns. She was alone. So, you're holding around...24 pounds at the moment, give or take depending on the pistols you have, not to mention anything else you've got. ...Pale as a ghost eh? Oh, and, the AK-47 really should be held with both hands. It would increase accuracy and lower chances of incident, as well as conserving precious ammo. Just because it's possible doesn't mean it's practical.
Her parent's had left her in the house. The note that burned in her pants pocket still stuck in her head. Why in the world would you stick a burning note, oh wait, you mean figuratively. The picture of her parents and her at the beach happily was in the same pocket as the note. But instead of burning, it soothed. She vowed that she would see her parents again, and just like anything else that wasn't human, kill them. They had left their only child behind to die. Some parents you have there.
She had gotten into her dads gun stash that he, thankfully, was stupid enough to leave behind. So...he abandoned you (I'm guessing because of the Green Flu) yet didn't take his guns? She had raided a neighbors garage after they left and took the black machete they had for cutting weeds and such away, she considered it her friend. At least it's not a Katana. After she had gotten what she needed she went deep into the city to find help or other survivors. Shouldn't you leave that to someone who's in good health? And why go further into a city of all things? You want to get away from high populated zones. She stopped and looked into a store window and looked at her reflection. Oh boy, here we go with the mirror description cliche.
Her hair was in 'adorable' pigtails that reached the lower half of her back Perfect for a zombie to pull like a rope. and she wore her 'favorite' pull over coat. Her pull over was pink with beautiful floral printing on it. She wore a short skirt that matched her coat and some cute pink shoes. So you left your house and didn't change into something more appropriate? She was exactly like her parents wanted her, girly and adorable. She looked beyond her reflection and saw that the store was a clothing store. Well, at least you can get a change of clothes here. At the end of the hall were all the fitting rooms were was a red door with a house sign with a plus in the middle.
Safe house. That's...contrived convenient.
She checked the door to check if it was unlocked. She opened the door hawked out for zombies. She shot the zombies she saw and looked in every changing room and shot every zombie. And the gunfire strangely didn't attract any others. She opened the door to the safe room and walked in. She did something else. She did another something else. She heard the terrifying screech of the Hunter and saw it pounce at her from across the hall. She slammed it shut, slamming the door in its face.
She shot at the pouncing demon until it was completely dead, then looked around the room. There was a fridge, TV, radio, ammo, guns, I see absolutely no reason why a safe house (at least one not made by citizens) would have guns and ammo. Medicine and food yes. Weapons, no. In the game it works but isn't logical. In a story it's just it just takes up another notch of stupid. and up to fifty health packs. As quickly as possible she put down her bag and unzipped it. She arranged the ammo, machete, the hand guns and grabbed 3 health packs. Threw open the fridge and it was fully stocked, apparently no one knew about this safe house. I'm calling bullshit. it's way too convenient that you'd find one so well stacked for no good reason.
She ate as much as she could. She had been without food for so long she forgot the last time she ate. Oh really now, you couldn't have gone without for that long. You're in a city. There are corner stores, markets, what about your house? She had lost so much weight and gained so much hate. Walking into the bathroom she looked in the long body mirror Another mirror description? and looked at the 'sweet' 'cute' 'adorable' and 'oh so harmless' girl, that girl was now drowning in hate. So you've said, time and time again. Honestly, is hate the only feeling you experience? Awfully two dimensional. Then quickly she ran out of the room for a quick second to the store and grabbed as many clothes she thought she would like. Time for a makeover to reflect her new attitude. Bring on the black.
Without caring she threw on what clothes she liked, stole some more pull over coats It's not technically stealing anymore if everyone is dead. she liked and put them in her bag. Liking something doesn't mean it'll serve you well. Find practical, useful clothing. Even though her bag seemed small when put together just right she could put in so much. She heard paper folding on her pocket and pulled out the note and picture from it and opened the note.
Dear Alaya,
Me and your mother couldn't find you when the sickness came to our town. I am sorry but we had to leave then and there before we caught it. Don't hate us for doing the right thing, Who says something like that? How campy. we still love you. We hope that you get this letter.
Love, Daddy.
Couldn't find her? She was upstairs in her room asleep! It's kind of funny that they just booked it on their mary sue daughter like that. Damn them to burning torturous hell. She gritted her teeth. Anger burned inside her. She looked at the picture of her so called 'family'. They never gave a damn about her. They never cared about how she was or what she did. Worst of all she was figuring this out just now. She picked up two empty adrenaline shots and stabbed them threw the note and picture and nailed them to the wall. She took a eye liner pencil and wrote under the picture and wrote. Only after you leave will survivors miraculously find this untouched safe house, right?
These lying bastards left me here, left me alone here. I was a college student majoring in language and creative writing. I am only 22 years old. Constantly wanting to impress them and once I did everything they asked, they turned around and left me behind. To anyone who sees these two please do me a big favor. PUT A FUCKING CAP IN THEIR ASSES! The man stretched out on the bed, letting out a grunt as muscles he'd forgotten existed groaned in protest. Who would have thought that such well stocked places could still be found? The only thing he missed was the usual writing on the wall, sometimes the only entertainment around...if killing zombies wasn't entertainment enough. There was one thing though, from his position on the mattress he could just make out something from the bathroom. He squinted, trying to bring the writing into focus. The next morning there was a corresponding scrawl underneath the first one: I hate college students.
The last sentence was carved into the wall with her machete. How EDGY. She growled deeply to herself and walked over to the other end of the door. She watched outside the other door to see if there was any zombies. She wasn't disappointed there was at least twenty out there. Well if you hadn't opened fire and alerted them they probably wouldn't be. She took the bed sheet from the bed and hung it over the door so that the zombies wouldn't be able to see her. She walked over to the ugly matted bed So...the safe house that's stocked with not only food, television and radio, medication, and weapons, has mattresses that are in terrible condition? Something is a bit off here. and laid down on it. She took out her blanket from the bag and hugged it to herself tightly.
"Don't worry, we'll get out of here soon" She whispered to her blanket softly as if talking to someone. probably a dead baby brother. She closed her eyes hesitantly and began drifting off to sleep. She slept through out the night without making a sound or even stirring a single bit.
As soon as the light hit her eyes they flew open and she looked around. Safe room still the same and she was still in the same nightmare that she has been in for the past God knows how long. How long has it been? It couldn't have been too long if her hair was still in long ass pigtails. She sat up and walked to the bathroom. The note she left on the bathroom wall wasn't a dream either, it was still there practically burning into her eyes. She looked away and looked at the mirror. She still saw that happy go lucky girl that was ready and waiting to please her parents anyway possible.
She ripped off the hair bands and let her hair fall. Oh, here comes the makeover. Time to cut off that hair. This is a statement to herself about her change inside! She walked over the table and picked up her black machete and back to the bathroom. Holding all her hair in one hand and machete in the other she swiftly sliced off a good three inches from her hair and threw it into the trash. Just three inches? That's not much of a statement. Oh, and hair can't just be sliced in one motion like in anime. No really, you'd have to saw at it a bit. And it hurts, even if the blade is sharp, which it probably isn't if you've been using it. She looked at her new look, it was amazing how one little change made such a difference. Smiling at herself as she walked out she snatched up her backpack and swung it on her back took her blanket and put it in there too. Put your hair in a ponytail or bun. Why the hell would you want it getting into your face when facing hordes? She grabbed her AK-47, stocked up on bullets and pulled off the sheet to the door.
To all surprise there was no zombies. She listened carefully for the growl of a hunter. Nothing. Listened for the gurgle of a boomer or a cough of a smoker. Nothing still. She shifted some to feel the ground beneath her and listened and felt carefully for a tank's large hands punching the ground or his hard breathing. Silence. Praying with all her might she took a Molotov cocktail and lit it, she threw it as far as she could and watched the fire spread. My opinion of your intelligence is rapidly decreasing after seeing you so carelessly handle FIRE. The scream of a witch wasn't heard.
There wasn't anything in sight. Whatever happened to the pipebombs? She opened the door and looked around. The door led to an alley behind the store, it was completely empty. She walked out and readied herself for the ambush. She took a deep breath and walked around. She had done this a hundred times, why did she feel so scared this time? Because you probably are going to meet up with others and need to finally show weakness. With complete silence walking down the alley she kept her guard up in extreme high and made sure no zombies were near. Wow, you're showing a hell of a lot more caution than you did before. What happened to just walking around and shooting zombies without reloading and having them rush you? Finally, she heard something. The wheezing dog like laugh was coming towards her.
"Shit" She muttered. She looked in front of her. No Jockey in sight. She waited for a minute then the loud squeal came. Swiftly she swung her machete around from behind and cut the small ugly creatures chest and blood splattered everywhere. No dice. You see, you're not Mario, you can't just swing your cape and propel your foes back. Using a knife in that fashion against something leaping at you is more likely to twist the blade back or fracture your arm than it is to slice and push them. Because of the force they're exerting in mid air. "Fuck you" She said and kicked it into a trash can. Now that's just mean. Confidence rising with every step she was back to the kill-whatever-the-hell-wasn't-human mode. They are human. Just like a dog infected with rabies is still a dog. It doesn't magically change species because of infection.
The ground began shaking as if something was charging. She looked around carefully to make sure nothing was going to sneak up on her. Even in groups the special infected can sneak up on you. She's been the exception for way too long. She looked to the side of her and almost in a split second she jumped to the side and the charger rammed his heavily muscled arm into a building. Gunshots banged threw the alley's as she shot at the one armed demon. One final shot popped him in the head and he collapsed to the ground. You are a very bad shot, if you'd just put that machete away, you'd waste less ammo. She about screamed when she turned around and there was a zombie horde was coming at her. Say hello to the Director, mary sue.
Shooting and shoving for her life she killed any and every zombie in sight. Again, I'm calling BS. You're just one person who's malnourished, holding an AK-47 with one hand and a big blade with another (how would you even reload?), with long hair that's probably now in your eyes. And hordes tend to be about 30-50 people strong. Even if you were in perfect health you'd be a goner. Game over. She sucked in lungs full of cold air and breathed out warm steam. Slightly shaken up by the onslaught of putrid excuses for humans Wow, I would not like to see this girl in a hospital. she walked down the alley opening every door and closing it when it was empty. Once in awhile grabbing pill bottles It didn't even matter what they were, they could be anything from laxatives to something much more deadly. Are they even brand name? Most tend to be generic, and those names and directions can be more than a little confusing. and adrenaline shots Are you so sure that those are 'adrenaline shots'? I mean, you're just finding stuff lying around. I would never inject random syringes into my veins. stuffing them in her back. Christ Almighty, is this how you've been getting by!? She didn't care about anyone else at this point she needed to keep HERSELF alive. It's a miracle you're still alive with the way you approach medication.
One or two zombies surprised her, the others she obliterated with her AK-47 and or used the Molotov's to burn a whole crowd. where they ran into buildings and set other things on fire. Suddenly, without warning, she heard the cough of a smoker and the tongue wrapped around her. She squirmed in protest and wrapped her hands around a door. Wait, but aren't you holding your AK-47 and a Machete? Just cut the tongue for crying out loud.
"Let me the fuck go!" Her voice was shrieking and she pulled her body from the tongue. The smoker pulled and pulled and tried to decapitate her. With it's tongue? Strangle perhaps, but decapitate? He must be quite determined. Getting one arm free she grabbed the tongue that was pulling her and began pulling it towards her. I doubt it. Considering the tongue must have strength akin to the type you'd see in Pythons. The smoker began being pulled forward until he got to the edge of the roof. "C'mere you bitch!" She shouted and the smoker fell to the ground. So, he can lift with his tongue but he can't pull her off a door? Without being able to regain itself the smoker fell face down the pavement with a bone crunching splat.
Ripping the tongue off her she growled angrily and walked on. Oh please, you were about to cry like a baby a second ago...what happened to your weapons? Even though it was during the day the air was cold as ice. Frost was forming on windows of old stores and wind shields of old cars. Her feet began to feel heavy as she forced herself to move on and on. She wasn't tired or anything she was just starting to feel weak. Subtle. Wearing herself out with this fighting for her life bull. Wishing with all her might that she could miraculously find a cure of this sickness and be able to just make everything better. ...you don't seem to care about all the sick people you're killing now. Why would you want to cure them?
Sadly that wouldn't happen any time this life time. Strength began to regain in her body as she walked threw the city of hell. Even though with earth logic, you'd be getting weaker. Some lights were on and some were broken from gunshots. Buildings upon buildings abandoned and full of zombies and other infected. Once she started getting towards the busy streets more and more zombies started showing their faces. Everyday people who'd had their lives taken from them as well as their bodies. Driven to dementia, both adults and children alike. Just once, I'd like to see some sympathy in a story for the fallen. And as you can tell, I'm not talking about the immune. Zombies are an easy way out to act like a sociopath and still end up looking like the good guy. It's guilt free. If it was Old Yeller or a child, and she'd kicked it into a trash can after slashing its chest open, everyone would be pissed. Gun banging with every trigger pull she blew off all limbs from arms to heads some in the square of their backs. With the never-ending ammo. She had made it down town were all the gangs and mafias had run the entire town from the single grain of sand that started to the pot whole that ended this city. ...
The sound of a cat-hiss scratched at her ears with anger. That's pretty special. She had never heard something like this before, it was the hiss of a cat mixed with a deep throaty growl. That would be a Hunter. She stopped in her tracks and looked around wearily trying to find what was making that noise. Some trash cans tipped over spilling garbage and whatever else was in them. Loading her AK-47 HACK! she turned around and saw what exactly was making the sound. You should probably pay attention to your surroundings as well.
Limbs long and bent in two places body long as well. It's hands and feet had black talon fingers and toes that were covered in blood. Shrieking like a tortured deformed cat it leaped into the air at her. She backed up and shot at the long limbed creature hitting the limbs and body with every shot. She jumped out of the way and it tripped on its own limbs. Unmoving and not breathing it laid there for a good thirty seconds.
"What in the fucking world are you?" She said walking to the lifeless body. She looked it over and thought of a name for it. "Spider" I still say Hunter. She kicked it in the solar plexus to make sure it was completely dead. She walked to the other side of the kitchen she had ran into Random scene change is random. grabbing the door handle on the door and opened it. Walking out of the alley she stopped dead in her tracks, paralyzed with complete fear.
Ten feet to her left that was completely blocked off by a turned over eighteen wheeler and at least fifteen other cars. Standing there body's massive and breathing hard were two tanks, she hadn't seen any of these yet but she read about them on walls. How is that even possible if you've been doing this for 'so long'? She noticed just one glanced at her and she began running for her life. Make sure to fire that AK-47 in the air, and throw some Molotovs around while you're at it. They love that. The two of them roared with anger as they charged at her. The Director is getting sick and tired of you god-modding your way out of these situations and is determined to rectify this.
"DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!!!" She screamed into the night hoping someone other than zombies would hear her. That's right, summon the horde. She dodged large pieces of road and once in awhile a car. She turned a corner to an alley and turned around shooting at the two giants that raced after her. But it'd finally jammed since she'd never learned how to properly maintain it. To which she thought WAS a way out, turn out to her end. "Oh, I am so fucking screwed" She said to herself. She had to take it, she was going to die here and now. Enter Deus Ex Machina.
A female hand grabbed her upper arm and pulled her in as soon as the two tanks barreled threw the brick wall. Life practically flashing before her eyes she looked at her rescuer. Her brain didn't register them for a long time, she laid on the floor and passed out from shock and from lack of breath. Let it be Zoey. Please. Because if it's Rochelle then-
"She'yoot, it's a lucky thin' we caught 'er in time" God no, not my favorite character. Ellis, it's a mary sue. You know their goals in these stories. Warn Nick as well! Said the young mechanic named Ellis. He wore a blue hat with a tow truck printed on it, a yellow shirt with the unbutton overalls. "She would'a been a tank pancake!" Ellis added picking the fainted and winded girl up and putting her on the couch. Are you sure that it's even safe to stay here anymore? Two Tanks just crashed into the place.
"Kudos to you for catching her just in the nick of time Rochelle" The tall dark conman named Nick added. NO. NO KUDOS. You've just royally screwed with the Director. He wore a white suit with a purple button up shirt. I know what Nick looks like, as well as the others. Considering mary sue is still out, there's no point to describing their appearance. His hair was slicked back with gel and he had a five o'clock shadow on it. Coach was a tall slightly over weight African man, he had a chocolate bar in one hand and a grenade launcher in the other. He looked down at the girl.
"Hey, she's the girl from the other safe house we were at a couple of hours ago, she must've taken the long way" Called it. Coach moved the girls bright red hair and looked at her face. Her skin was rather clammy and she was covered in sweat from so much running. Two gigantic infected, currently in the building.
"Poor girl took the long haul 'ere musta not known about the subway you could use to get 'ere" Please to be not murdering his accent anymore. Ellis stated for a fact, sitting on the ground next to a green lamp. He had a machine gun with a silencer on it strapped on his back with a guitar on the other strap. Ellis looked at the backpack she had on one shoulder and decided he should investigate. Gently he slipped the bag off her shoulder and unzipped it, the first thing Ellis saw was a blanket. The blanket was crochet into a beautiful pattern in pink, blue, white, yellow, and, green. He took it out and began examining the actually clean blanket. Amazing isn't it?
"Ellis sweetie, don't mess with the girls stuff" Rochelle said, walking over to him. "The blanket might be the only thing she has right now of her long lost kid sibling who was adopted and kept in the basement by their parents, and who she'll probably come into contact with again, only this time as a special infected that's a Hunter." Rochelle took the blanket and laid it on Alaya who was still out cold. The girls eyes opened just a crack and she took the blanket pulled it up to her nose.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, she did this for a little while. Ellis, Coach, and Rochelle watched her with questioning eyes. Nick seemed to watch her without minding the fact she was breathing threw her blanket. Don't look directly into its eyes, Nick. That's how they get you. She sat up and looked around her. Eye's locked with Ellis when she saw him.
"Who are you?" Alaya sounded very groggy and shaken. Ellis gave a crooked smile to her barely parting his lips. Hey, get your fingers out of there! He lifted himself up and looked at her.
"Name be Ellis, what's yer name pretty lady?" Ellis grinned at her. Alaya couldn't help but smile at his playful grin. Ellis makes everything better, even barrels of undiluted hate.
"Names Alaya, and how did I get in here again?" Already forgotten the gargantuan infected that tried to make you into paste? She yawned deeply and looked at Rochelle. She smiled at her and sat next to her on the decent sized couch.
"We got you in here before the tank's made you into road kill…you look exhausted hon" Rochelle looked at the dark circles that ringed around her eyes like a raccoon's mask. Those are the marks of an experienced warrior, she needs no one. She blinked some and looked at her tilting her head. "When did you sleep last?"
"Last night, I think I got to the safe house around four in the morning…I have an internal clock" She admitted. Admitted...what a weird way to put it. She could tell time without even looking at the clock. Rochelle shook her head and stood up. remembering the clock that had been hanging by the fridge in that safe house.
"Get some rest guys, we'll need it for tomorrow" Rochelle took a pillow from the other side of the couch and laid on the floor closest to the wall. Ellis laid on his back tipping his hat over his eyes and pulling his hands behind his head as his pillow. the Coach and Nick leaned against the wall, Nick fell asleep almost instantly and ended up laying on his side. Alaya rolled on her stomach and fell asleep as well.
Director: WHERE ARE MY FUCKING TANKS!? (/>_<)/ l____l