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Dark Quarantine
A little zombie related fiction I've been writing.
Its a major WIP, with many things to be edited or removed.
Dark Quarantine
by Sam Dramstad/Kelkesh12345
Chapter 1: “John lives down here”
A roar. That’s all the victims heard before being thoroughly torn apart. Torn apart brutally. Yet, the predators could do something worse to their victims…something much, much, much worse…
John - Cedar Rapids-9:03 pm
John got up from his computer. Why is the power out? John thought as he stood up. Minutes ago, darkness has embraced the city. He grabbed his soda can and walked out the door. A gunshot breaks the dark silence. “What the hell?” John mutters.
He walks down the hall leading into his living room. A quick glance out the front windows shows nothing but a pure darkness. What the hell is going on here? A riot? John walks toward the window and looks closer.
A sharp scream echoes throughout the neighborhood, and John jumps back. The window to his right breaks open, and a male corpse flies through. The corpse’s face is white, but strangely cut up. The face is almost literally in pieces. The head…that’s…that’s my neighbor… John looks out the broken window, and jumps back immediately.
A demonic face is right behind the window. It jumps through the window with a hideous shriek. John turns and runs, but the creature chases after him, gaining yards with every step. The demon quickly converged on John, till there was only eight feet between them.
Five feet.
Three feet.
One foot.
John picked up a large book lying on the ground, turned, and hit the creature in the face with the book, sending it back a few feet, making it scream in that terrible tone. The skeletal creature’s claws raked the air as it flew to the ground from the force of the blow.
John ran into his room, grabbed the metal baseball that he kept near the doorway, and smashed the bat over the creatures head.
To no effect. The Demon jumped on top of him, and began cutting into his flesh.
John screamed as the Demon’s razor sharp fingers split his skin open. Then, the Demon began eating him! What the hell is it doi-AGHHH! Thought the terrified John.
In an act of desperation, he grabbed the baseball bat on the floor with his still working left hand and rammed it hard into the Demon’s stomach.
It suddenly collapsed. The strange thing on it’s face, what John thought was a strange type of hair, crawled away from the corpse quickly.
John stood up, and staggered towards his bathroom, and began trying to clean up the damage the Demon did to his arm, his chest, and his neck. John didn’t think he should be still standing after that, much less completely pain-free.
Suddenly, the ‘hair’ from the Demon’s head crawled at incredible speeds into the bathroom, very spider-like. John saw a flash of it, right before it jumped on top of his head, and began drilling into his skull. John screamed in agony as the parasite began taking over his body.
One second John, the next second, just another one of those goddamn demons.
He walks down the hall leading into his living room. A quick glance out the front windows shows nothing but a pure darkness. What the hell is going on here? A riot? John walks toward the window and looks closer.
A sharp scream echoes throughout the neighborhood, and John jumps back. The window to his right breaks open, and a male corpse flies through. The corpse’s face is white, but strangely cut up. The face is almost literally in pieces. The head…that’s…that’s my neighbor… John looks out the broken window, and jumps back immediately.
A demonic face is right behind the window. It jumps through the window with a hideous shriek. John turns and runs, but the creature chases after him, gaining yards with every step. The demon quickly converged on John, till there was only eight feet between them.
Five feet.
Three feet.
One foot.
John picked up a large book lying on the ground, turned, and hit the creature in the face with the book, sending it back a few feet, making it scream in that terrible tone. The skeletal creature’s claws raked the air as it flew to the ground from the force of the blow.
John ran into his room, grabbed the metal baseball that he kept near the doorway, and smashed the bat over the creatures head.
To no effect. The Demon jumped on top of him, and began cutting into his flesh.
John screamed as the Demon’s razor sharp fingers split his skin open. Then, the Demon began eating him! What the hell is it doi-AGHHH! Thought the terrified John.
In an act of desperation, he grabbed the baseball bat on the floor with his still working left hand and rammed it hard into the Demon’s stomach.
It suddenly collapsed. The strange thing on it’s face, what John thought was a strange type of hair, crawled away from the corpse quickly.
John stood up, and staggered towards his bathroom, and began trying to clean up the damage the Demon did to his arm, his chest, and his neck. John didn’t think he should be still standing after that, much less completely pain-free.
Suddenly, the ‘hair’ from the Demon’s head crawled at incredible speeds into the bathroom, very spider-like. John saw a flash of it, right before it jumped on top of his head, and began drilling into his skull. John screamed in agony as the parasite began taking over his body.
One second John, the next second, just another one of those goddamn demons.
Mike - Cedar Rapids – 9:12 pm
Michael woke up in a cold sweat.
A terrifying scream resounded through the night air as he turned on his room lamp. Just as clean and orderly as ever. Michael walked over to his closet and entered the combination on his weapon’s safe. He opened the steel safe door and pulled out a mean looking Remington 870, a heavy duty twelve gauge shotgun.
He loaded a few shells into the chamber, pumped it once, and opened his bedroom door into the main room of his apartment.
Sitting on the ground in the middle of the room was a strange creature. It wasn’t a cat, although it was similar to one in size, it looked like a chicken from hell, covered with small incisors. It looked like it had a whole underneath it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t normal. Mike switched the safety of his Remy’ and aimed down the barrel at the thing. “Hey chickenshit!” he shouted, causing the small creature to turn around and begin waddling towards him slowly. Mike backed up at a steady pace, walking faster than the critter on the floor.
Suddenly, the Critter tensed its back legs, and jumped into the air at Mike, opening the huge hole on its stomach.
A terrifying scream resounded through the night air as he turned on his room lamp. Just as clean and orderly as ever. Michael walked over to his closet and entered the combination on his weapon’s safe. He opened the steel safe door and pulled out a mean looking Remington 870, a heavy duty twelve gauge shotgun.
He loaded a few shells into the chamber, pumped it once, and opened his bedroom door into the main room of his apartment.
Sitting on the ground in the middle of the room was a strange creature. It wasn’t a cat, although it was similar to one in size, it looked like a chicken from hell, covered with small incisors. It looked like it had a whole underneath it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t normal. Mike switched the safety of his Remy’ and aimed down the barrel at the thing. “Hey chickenshit!” he shouted, causing the small creature to turn around and begin waddling towards him slowly. Mike backed up at a steady pace, walking faster than the critter on the floor.
Suddenly, the Critter tensed its back legs, and jumped into the air at Mike, opening the huge hole on its stomach.
As it flew through the air, Mike used the butt of the shotgun to knock the Critter back, causing it to fly into his coffee table, knocking over a glass of Pepsi still sitting there from when he was watching 21 earlier with friends.
Mike aimed the Remy’s long barrel at the Critter and squeezed the trigger, releasing a deer slug which flew with trained accuracy right through the Critter’s body and through his wall.Mike snorted as the Critter began making small sounds as it bled out.
Then he laughed, as he realized that what he had said his whole life was finally coming true. He and his friends would live to see the Apocalypse. Wonderful! I hope I don’t run out of shells! Thought Mike as he loaded another shell into his Remington to make up for the one he used to shoot the hell out of the dead Critter on the coffee table.
He ran back into his room, tossed the Remy onto his bed, got his most badass looking clothing together, which consisted of :
Black Trenchcoat : $50; Bandolier : $25; Sunglasses : $200; Italian Shoes : $150; Looking really badass : Priceless.
Mike aimed the Remy’s long barrel at the Critter and squeezed the trigger, releasing a deer slug which flew with trained accuracy right through the Critter’s body and through his wall.Mike snorted as the Critter began making small sounds as it bled out.
Then he laughed, as he realized that what he had said his whole life was finally coming true. He and his friends would live to see the Apocalypse. Wonderful! I hope I don’t run out of shells! Thought Mike as he loaded another shell into his Remington to make up for the one he used to shoot the hell out of the dead Critter on the coffee table.
He ran back into his room, tossed the Remy onto his bed, got his most badass looking clothing together, which consisted of :
Black Trenchcoat : $50; Bandolier : $25; Sunglasses : $200; Italian Shoes : $150; Looking really badass : Priceless.
After Mike was done obsessing with himself in the mirror, he slung his shotgun onto his back, grabbed two holsters for his .357 Magnums, and filled his bandolier with ammo for both his magnums and his shotgun.
I got to get my friends together, and then we all band up and get to John’s house. Nothing could go wrong, thought Mike, the optimistic survivalist. He picked up a very kickass fedora on his way out his doorway into the apartment’s hallway (as well as picking up his wall mounted chainsaw, just for extra measure).
Unbeknownst to Mike, a shambling figure crept out of his bathroom, just beginning to following him relentlessly.
I got to get my friends together, and then we all band up and get to John’s house. Nothing could go wrong, thought Mike, the optimistic survivalist. He picked up a very kickass fedora on his way out his doorway into the apartment’s hallway (as well as picking up his wall mounted chainsaw, just for extra measure).
Unbeknownst to Mike, a shambling figure crept out of his bathroom, just beginning to following him relentlessly.
Jake – Cedar Rapids – 9:11
Jake suddenly awoke. He looked across his bed to the other side, only to find it empty.
Where did Fiona go? He thought. He stood up as pulled the table lamp’s pull cord, filling the room with light, revealing the sand-yellow color the room had been painted, as chosen by Fiona. Jake’s tired eyes crossed the room, and saw a red splatter on the wall.
He jumped out of his bed and ran around the bed to find more splatter. Blood. Lots of it, along with a corpse, so badly mangled that it couldn’t have once been a human being. He jumped back in terror, but something made him look at the body’s hand. On the corpse’s ring finger sat a golden ring. Fiona. This body was Fiona, Jake thought, absolutely shocked. And there, he broke down and cried over his late wife.
Only to be interrupted by a deep, dark, pained moan, sounding utterly inhuman. He scanned the room with his tearstained eyes, and saw nothing. Except that the doorway was open, along with a blood trail leading out the door.
Jake searched the bedroom, looking for something he could use as a weapon to kill whatever had killed his wife. An eye for an eye, he thought. He walked over to his closet, opened it up, and was set upon by the moaning demon.
The zombie-like creature gripped his shoulders with a viselike grip, and began using his clawed fingers to cut into his victims flesh. Jake had studied some Tae Kwon Do a while back, and used it to kick the Moaner away, thus slowing the creature down.
Jake used the time he had to scramble over to his clothing cabinet, looking for anything he could use to kill his damned thing. His frantic fingers found the grip of a .38 Special handgun, a gift from his friend Mike.
Mike had warned everyone in Jake’s circle of friends to be prepared for the apocalypse, so they could rise above the unprepared. Surprisingly, it seemed Mike had been right. Jake spun around a aimed the gun with an amateur’s skill towards the Moaner, made sure to aim for the large fleshy chicken-ish thing on its forehead, and pulled the trigger twice, dropping the Moaner.
He walked closer to the dead thing, and realized something.
Where did Fiona go? He thought. He stood up as pulled the table lamp’s pull cord, filling the room with light, revealing the sand-yellow color the room had been painted, as chosen by Fiona. Jake’s tired eyes crossed the room, and saw a red splatter on the wall.
He jumped out of his bed and ran around the bed to find more splatter. Blood. Lots of it, along with a corpse, so badly mangled that it couldn’t have once been a human being. He jumped back in terror, but something made him look at the body’s hand. On the corpse’s ring finger sat a golden ring. Fiona. This body was Fiona, Jake thought, absolutely shocked. And there, he broke down and cried over his late wife.
Only to be interrupted by a deep, dark, pained moan, sounding utterly inhuman. He scanned the room with his tearstained eyes, and saw nothing. Except that the doorway was open, along with a blood trail leading out the door.
Jake searched the bedroom, looking for something he could use as a weapon to kill whatever had killed his wife. An eye for an eye, he thought. He walked over to his closet, opened it up, and was set upon by the moaning demon.
The zombie-like creature gripped his shoulders with a viselike grip, and began using his clawed fingers to cut into his victims flesh. Jake had studied some Tae Kwon Do a while back, and used it to kick the Moaner away, thus slowing the creature down.
Jake used the time he had to scramble over to his clothing cabinet, looking for anything he could use to kill his damned thing. His frantic fingers found the grip of a .38 Special handgun, a gift from his friend Mike.
Mike had warned everyone in Jake’s circle of friends to be prepared for the apocalypse, so they could rise above the unprepared. Surprisingly, it seemed Mike had been right. Jake spun around a aimed the gun with an amateur’s skill towards the Moaner, made sure to aim for the large fleshy chicken-ish thing on its forehead, and pulled the trigger twice, dropping the Moaner.
He walked closer to the dead thing, and realized something.
The Critter on its head had been removed.
The face of the corpse looked strangely like his neighbor, but terribly torn up. Out of apparently nowhere, the missing Critter jumped onto Jake’s back and began to force its way onto his head.
He frantically brought the gun up and aimed it at the Critter and fired the last four shots in the gun into it, killing it. Jake stood in the bloody mess of a bedroom, a room that he and his now dead wife Fiona had said looked perfect.
He went to the closet where the Moaner had hidden, and found what he was looking for, his survival knife from Boy Scouts, a knife that had saved him in the wilderness many, many times.
Along with this, he found a bandana in his closet which he tied over his mouth, so no blood could enter his mouth by accident, who knew what poisons those thing carried in their blood.
Jake pulled on a set of wood working goggles for extra security, and found another six .38 bullets for his small revolver, reloaded it, and got ready go and see if he could find any other survivors. He dropped his family’s cross, an heirloom that had apparently been in his family since the 1700’s, onto his wife’s body, a symbol of promise that meant he would return to bury her.
Jake went into his kitchen, checked the fridge, saw that the light was off in the fridge and checked the back. Behind it, wires had been chewed. One of those things must have been eating on the electrical wires, but why? Jake picked up the phone, and decided who to call. He could probably call Mike, who would probably be already prepared for this. He speed dialed Mike’s number and waited. “Yo Jake! What’s going on?” asked an overly cheerful Michael from the other side of the line. “I’m not exactly in the right fucking mood Mike, Fiona’s fucking dead, due to some fucking zombie creature! You want to tell me what the FUCK is going on!” Jake asked, obviously in no mood for idle conversation.
A stunned silence came from the other side of the line, while Jake expected Mike to leave a smart ass remark, he only got this. “Fiona’s… I’m sorry man… Ah god… Look, I don’t know what’s going on, all I know is that we got to meet up, soon. Otherwise, I don’t think we’re all going to make it…” replied a now slightly sad sounding Mike. “Who have you called?” Jake asked, perplexed.
“Only John, but I couldn’t get a hold of him, probably asleep in that yuppie house of his, eh?” joked Mike, though it was obvious to Jake that he was just trying to keep Jake’s spirits up. “Where do we meet?” “I say we meet up at Maplewood Retirement Home, I can’t see any of those fucking Critter’s taking over old, hobbled people, can you?” That caught Jake a little off guard, and he kind of snickered.
“Yeah, and if the retiree’s rise up to try and kill us, I don’t think they’re going to be much of a problem. Unless your afraid of wheelchair demons, then you’re going to have a problem” And so Jake laughed, a mere ten to fifteen minutes after his wife was brutally murdered.
The face of the corpse looked strangely like his neighbor, but terribly torn up. Out of apparently nowhere, the missing Critter jumped onto Jake’s back and began to force its way onto his head.
He frantically brought the gun up and aimed it at the Critter and fired the last four shots in the gun into it, killing it. Jake stood in the bloody mess of a bedroom, a room that he and his now dead wife Fiona had said looked perfect.
He went to the closet where the Moaner had hidden, and found what he was looking for, his survival knife from Boy Scouts, a knife that had saved him in the wilderness many, many times.
Along with this, he found a bandana in his closet which he tied over his mouth, so no blood could enter his mouth by accident, who knew what poisons those thing carried in their blood.
Jake pulled on a set of wood working goggles for extra security, and found another six .38 bullets for his small revolver, reloaded it, and got ready go and see if he could find any other survivors. He dropped his family’s cross, an heirloom that had apparently been in his family since the 1700’s, onto his wife’s body, a symbol of promise that meant he would return to bury her.
Jake went into his kitchen, checked the fridge, saw that the light was off in the fridge and checked the back. Behind it, wires had been chewed. One of those things must have been eating on the electrical wires, but why? Jake picked up the phone, and decided who to call. He could probably call Mike, who would probably be already prepared for this. He speed dialed Mike’s number and waited. “Yo Jake! What’s going on?” asked an overly cheerful Michael from the other side of the line. “I’m not exactly in the right fucking mood Mike, Fiona’s fucking dead, due to some fucking zombie creature! You want to tell me what the FUCK is going on!” Jake asked, obviously in no mood for idle conversation.
A stunned silence came from the other side of the line, while Jake expected Mike to leave a smart ass remark, he only got this. “Fiona’s… I’m sorry man… Ah god… Look, I don’t know what’s going on, all I know is that we got to meet up, soon. Otherwise, I don’t think we’re all going to make it…” replied a now slightly sad sounding Mike. “Who have you called?” Jake asked, perplexed.
“Only John, but I couldn’t get a hold of him, probably asleep in that yuppie house of his, eh?” joked Mike, though it was obvious to Jake that he was just trying to keep Jake’s spirits up. “Where do we meet?” “I say we meet up at Maplewood Retirement Home, I can’t see any of those fucking Critter’s taking over old, hobbled people, can you?” That caught Jake a little off guard, and he kind of snickered.
“Yeah, and if the retiree’s rise up to try and kill us, I don’t think they’re going to be much of a problem. Unless your afraid of wheelchair demons, then you’re going to have a problem” And so Jake laughed, a mere ten to fifteen minutes after his wife was brutally murdered.
Part 2
Erin – Cedar Rapids – 9: 10
Scraping sounds on the door woke Erin up. “Stupid cat…” she whispered to herself as she got up and walked towards his door. She slowly opened the door, and gasped with shock.Lying on the couch in the living room was Erin’s boyfriend, Grigg.
Grigg was a terrible mess of guts, and it looked like he had tried to fight something off with the broken bottle that lay at his feet. His entrails had been ripped out and bitten on, and they trailed towards Erin’s bedroom door. Erin was stunned. Laying on the floor at the end of the trail was another human corpse. With a chicken-like Critter on its head.
And then the corpse , something that people generally consider to be dead, and by extension immobile, began crawling towards Erin, causing her to jump backwards in fright onto her bed, roll off, and land on the floor, right next to the Crawler. She screamed as it grabbed her leg and began ripping her Achilles tendon open, overwhelming her with pain, fear, and adrenaline.
Using her fear and adrenaline, she kicked the Crawler back with her good foot, and scrambled up onto the bed and over onto the other side. She knew that she couldn’t get by the crawler, so she looked out her window. Her second story window. And decided, it was either jump out and possibly die from the fall, or stay in the room with the Crawler and get eaten alive. Obviously, she tried the window.
She grabbed the easel propped up against the dark wall, a remnant of her artist past, and used it to break open her glass window. She looked down in to the darkness, and realized that was all she could see. It was like there was a pitch black fog all over the place. She turned around, her fear of the unknown almost beating her desire to not get ripped apart and eaten by the Crawler, and realized that the Crawler was just inches away, startling her into jumping out the window, and so she fell out into the darkness…
Grigg was a terrible mess of guts, and it looked like he had tried to fight something off with the broken bottle that lay at his feet. His entrails had been ripped out and bitten on, and they trailed towards Erin’s bedroom door. Erin was stunned. Laying on the floor at the end of the trail was another human corpse. With a chicken-like Critter on its head.
And then the corpse , something that people generally consider to be dead, and by extension immobile, began crawling towards Erin, causing her to jump backwards in fright onto her bed, roll off, and land on the floor, right next to the Crawler. She screamed as it grabbed her leg and began ripping her Achilles tendon open, overwhelming her with pain, fear, and adrenaline.
Using her fear and adrenaline, she kicked the Crawler back with her good foot, and scrambled up onto the bed and over onto the other side. She knew that she couldn’t get by the crawler, so she looked out her window. Her second story window. And decided, it was either jump out and possibly die from the fall, or stay in the room with the Crawler and get eaten alive. Obviously, she tried the window.
She grabbed the easel propped up against the dark wall, a remnant of her artist past, and used it to break open her glass window. She looked down in to the darkness, and realized that was all she could see. It was like there was a pitch black fog all over the place. She turned around, her fear of the unknown almost beating her desire to not get ripped apart and eaten by the Crawler, and realized that the Crawler was just inches away, startling her into jumping out the window, and so she fell out into the darkness…
Mike – Cedar Rapids – 9:15
This fog is fucking ridiculous! Thought Mike as he stared out the apartment’s glass door. He couldn’t see more than three feet outside, and even with his sharp eyesight, he could only partially see the door mat’s happy welcome. Mike turned around and began walking back to his room, only to be stopped by a strange looking man with a hood that made it look like his head was huge.
His fingers looked sharp and bloody. Gurgling came from the strange looking man, followed by a hungry moan. Mike’s survival instincts went off, causing him to turn on his IPod, switch to the song Paralyzer by Finger Eleven, then pull out one of his revolvers, and aim it at the stranger. The stranger’s hood fell down, revealing a Critter, making it obvious to Mike that this man wasn’t normal.
That, and the man began moaning and shambling towards him, clawing in the air in his direction. Suddenly, Mike began singing softly. “Well I’m not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you, I want to make you move, because you’re standing still” and then a tremendous sound issued from the .357 Magnum as the optimistic survivalist fired a shot straight through the creature.
The Moaner flew back three feet, where it finally lay dead. For good this time! Mike hummed along with the song as he loaded another bullet into his .357, and checked to make sure the Moaner was dead. After taking the Moaner’s wallet (containing forty dollars and a credit card, along with the credit card’s number. Score! Thought Mike), Mike entered his apartment and found his Powerlamp flashlight, and brought it out front with him.
The song ended just as Mike got to the apartment door again, only to find that someone had opened it. Someone with very bloody hands, someone who wanted out of the building. Unfortunately, it looked like they had clawed hands. Mike pulled out a magnum with one hand, and held the Powerlamp steady with the other. Mike cautiously walked out the door, into the terrible blackness.
As he walked outside, he realized that the Powerlamp could still only illuminate about twelve feet in front of him, making it almost impossible to see anything coming at him. Mike began walking towards the apartment’s parking lot when he began to hear that moaning again. And strangely, crying. Mike rounded the corner to find himself face to back-of-head with a Moaner who just happened to be standing over a tomboyish looking twenty-something woman with a badly mangled leg. Glass shards lay around her, causing her bad attempt at pushing herself away from the Moaner to cut up her hands.
Mike, deciding to use this chance to look badass, tapped the Moaner on the shoulder, causing it to turn around with a growl. Right into the barrel of Mike’s .357 Magnum. “Asta La Waygo, motherfucker!” stoically whispered Mike, who then pulled the trigger again, unleashing Mike’s special heavy duty cop killer bullet’s into yet another Moaner. The thing, driven by the point blank range shot, flew right over the bleeding woman on the ground. She looked terrified of me, which is generally one of the two expressions a badass is looking for.
Mike was kind of hoping for the other expression, the one filled with awe and reverence.
“Wh-wh-who are you!?” asked the woman, inciting Mike to smile. “The name’s Mike Edmondson, you seemed to be in a spot of trouble, so I decided to… (Dramatic pauses are awesome thought Mike)…Help you out with your little problem.” Finished Mike with an even wider smirk.
“Erin,” the woman on the ground muttered, now looking embarrassed that she was just saved by this egotistical moron. “And I don’t exactly have the ability to walk…So um…Do you have a stretcher or something?” she asked, hoping to god that this moron wouldn’t have to carry her. But of course, because she could never have it her way (Even at Burger King), she knew she’d have to be carried by him. “I seem to be lacking a stretcher, looks like I’m going to have to carry you. My Jeep’s right over there… Somewhere in the fog, let’s move.”
Mike said, thinking the same word he had thought earlier when he had found the wallet (Just in case you don’t remember, it was SCORE!). Mike was a fairly buff guy, so he didn’t have much trouble lifting Erin, despite her protests. The two walked (Well, kind of…) to Mark’s Jeep Wrangler which was still outfitted for a week in the woods. Meaning it was basically filled to the top with everything and anything that could be used for hiking, mountain climbing, or camping. “Nice car…” Erin admitted. She had secretly wanted a Jeep Wrangler since she had turned eighteen, but instead had gotten a Prius.
Aw, the many joys of the Prius. “Thanks!” Mike commented, both of them smiling. One smiling after just killing two people. The other smiling while bleeding out from bites in the Achilles tendon and her broken leg. They smiled, as they drive into the darkest of night, surrounded by chaos and strife, to the meeting place where in an ideal world, Jake would wait.
His fingers looked sharp and bloody. Gurgling came from the strange looking man, followed by a hungry moan. Mike’s survival instincts went off, causing him to turn on his IPod, switch to the song Paralyzer by Finger Eleven, then pull out one of his revolvers, and aim it at the stranger. The stranger’s hood fell down, revealing a Critter, making it obvious to Mike that this man wasn’t normal.
That, and the man began moaning and shambling towards him, clawing in the air in his direction. Suddenly, Mike began singing softly. “Well I’m not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you, I want to make you move, because you’re standing still” and then a tremendous sound issued from the .357 Magnum as the optimistic survivalist fired a shot straight through the creature.
The Moaner flew back three feet, where it finally lay dead. For good this time! Mike hummed along with the song as he loaded another bullet into his .357, and checked to make sure the Moaner was dead. After taking the Moaner’s wallet (containing forty dollars and a credit card, along with the credit card’s number. Score! Thought Mike), Mike entered his apartment and found his Powerlamp flashlight, and brought it out front with him.
The song ended just as Mike got to the apartment door again, only to find that someone had opened it. Someone with very bloody hands, someone who wanted out of the building. Unfortunately, it looked like they had clawed hands. Mike pulled out a magnum with one hand, and held the Powerlamp steady with the other. Mike cautiously walked out the door, into the terrible blackness.
As he walked outside, he realized that the Powerlamp could still only illuminate about twelve feet in front of him, making it almost impossible to see anything coming at him. Mike began walking towards the apartment’s parking lot when he began to hear that moaning again. And strangely, crying. Mike rounded the corner to find himself face to back-of-head with a Moaner who just happened to be standing over a tomboyish looking twenty-something woman with a badly mangled leg. Glass shards lay around her, causing her bad attempt at pushing herself away from the Moaner to cut up her hands.
Mike, deciding to use this chance to look badass, tapped the Moaner on the shoulder, causing it to turn around with a growl. Right into the barrel of Mike’s .357 Magnum. “Asta La Waygo, motherfucker!” stoically whispered Mike, who then pulled the trigger again, unleashing Mike’s special heavy duty cop killer bullet’s into yet another Moaner. The thing, driven by the point blank range shot, flew right over the bleeding woman on the ground. She looked terrified of me, which is generally one of the two expressions a badass is looking for.
Mike was kind of hoping for the other expression, the one filled with awe and reverence.
“Wh-wh-who are you!?” asked the woman, inciting Mike to smile. “The name’s Mike Edmondson, you seemed to be in a spot of trouble, so I decided to… (Dramatic pauses are awesome thought Mike)…Help you out with your little problem.” Finished Mike with an even wider smirk.
“Erin,” the woman on the ground muttered, now looking embarrassed that she was just saved by this egotistical moron. “And I don’t exactly have the ability to walk…So um…Do you have a stretcher or something?” she asked, hoping to god that this moron wouldn’t have to carry her. But of course, because she could never have it her way (Even at Burger King), she knew she’d have to be carried by him. “I seem to be lacking a stretcher, looks like I’m going to have to carry you. My Jeep’s right over there… Somewhere in the fog, let’s move.”
Mike said, thinking the same word he had thought earlier when he had found the wallet (Just in case you don’t remember, it was SCORE!). Mike was a fairly buff guy, so he didn’t have much trouble lifting Erin, despite her protests. The two walked (Well, kind of…) to Mark’s Jeep Wrangler which was still outfitted for a week in the woods. Meaning it was basically filled to the top with everything and anything that could be used for hiking, mountain climbing, or camping. “Nice car…” Erin admitted. She had secretly wanted a Jeep Wrangler since she had turned eighteen, but instead had gotten a Prius.
Aw, the many joys of the Prius. “Thanks!” Mike commented, both of them smiling. One smiling after just killing two people. The other smiling while bleeding out from bites in the Achilles tendon and her broken leg. They smiled, as they drive into the darkest of night, surrounded by chaos and strife, to the meeting place where in an ideal world, Jake would wait.
Jake – Cedar Rapids – 9: 29
However, the world generally isn’t ideal, so Jake found himself three miles away from Maplewood Retirement Home, pinned down by a psychotic woman armed with a bunch of grenades. How she got ahold of grenades, Jake had no clue, but what he did know was that she was a serious danger. She had already killed another survivor, although can you really call a dead human a survivor?
Of course, thanks to this fucking fog, the ‘survivor’ might have just been another Moaner. Jake had managed to find a wood cutting axe while running between yards to get to the Retirement Home. His car had been ripped to pieces, by humans or the Creatures; he had no clue, either way he had to walk.
Jake had visited two places while looking for equipment. He had checked out the gun store, found it in ruins, completely looted. Then he checked the nearest Wal-Mart. And found it on fire, meaning there was no way he was going into that hell.
After that, he had found another survivor, a trucker, who was as happy to see Jake as Jake was to see him. They both had driven together for about two miles until the huge amount of car wreckage forced them to stop. They had then split up, and Jake had told him to get the Maplewood Retirement Home, and because Jake doubted the other way had grenade wielding psychos, the trucker had probably already made it there. Jake ran out of his cover behind the car to behind a brick building.
A grenade landed right next to the Oldsmobile Jake had just been using as covered and detonated, resulting in a huge shockwave that knocked both Jake and the Psycho to the ground. Jake sprung back up, and saw a door through the brick building. “Hehe, she won’t even see it coming” murmured Jake as he pulled out his axe and stalked slowly into the building. It must have been an office at some time, because cubicles were scattered throughout the building.Jake walked by through the small hallways, ready to swing his axe at any moment.
A huge explosion shattered all the windows in the back of the building, and knocked the back door open, which also happened to scare the crap out of Jake.
He ran low to the ground throughout the cubicle area and found a door which lead into a break room. Looking for a room that was at least semi-solid, he stepped in. Only to be greeted by a high pitched scream.
Sitting behind a crummily made barricade was a man cowering in fear as a skeletal Demon was tearing through the ‘cade to the man. Upon Jake’s opening of the door, the Demon turned around, saw Jake, saw easier prey, and rushed him.
Jake saw the creature coming, but he didn’t think it would jump onto him, knocking him to the ground. Jake swung the axe at the Demon’s right arm, tearing it off, and giving him the opportunity to kick it away and run. Just as Jake began to run towards the break room, the Psycho woman from outside decided now to enter the building. Which, the Demon saw again as easy prey. And then he did what all good predator’s do. They feast.
Meanwhile, Jake ran into the break room, shut the door, and barricaded it with a pop machine. The man hidden behind the barricade began pushing out of it, making Jake jump. “Don’t shoot me, please! I just want to help!” shouted the man. Jake stuck his hand out and said “Jake Prior, and you?” The businessman looked uncertain for a minute, and then shook Jake’s hand. “Robert Dent, accountant. What the hell is going on?” asked Robert.
Jake laughed a little, feeling his sanity slowing dripping away, and then attempted to answer the question. “Hmm…To tell you the truth, I really have no clue. It’s like those things, those Creatures, it’s like they came here because of the fog. Or maybe, they created the fog…Like I said, I really have no clue” finished the slightly unnerved Jake, he stuck his hand in his pocket, a nervous gesture from his daily life.
“I don’t think we should stay here much longer…” murmured Robert. “Not a bad idea, that… I was actually on my way to meet a couple of friends of mine, over at the Maplewood Retirement Home, would you be interested in coming along?” asked Jake. R
obert’s eyes wandered to the tiled ceiling as he wondered what he should do. A loud scream echoed from outside the break room’s door, sounding the end of the battle, as well as interrupting Robert’s many thoughts. Jake’s hand shifted from his pocket to his .38 handgun, just as another scream, this one utterly inhuman, came from the hallway. Jake drew his revolver and kicked the pop machine blocking the door away in one swift movement.
He then slowly opened the door and looked out. And witnessed a most interesting sight. Lying on the ground was the armless, skeletal body of the demon, the woman nowhere to be seen. Robert picked up the leg from one of the broken wooden tables in the break room, and followed Jake as the two entered the room and beheld a grenade with its pin firmly in place lay on the ground.
Robert gasped when he saw the body, and realized something. “That thing, that thing had something on its head. It’s not there now!” whispered Robert, urgently. Jake looked at the corpse and realized something else. The top of its head, the place where the leech-ish thing had been was torn up and hollow. The two survivors cautiously stalked closer to the body inspected it for other clues.
And found a grenade, sans the pin, in the right hand of the body. Its thumb had been pressed down on the safety, meaning that if its thumb moved even an inch, both Robert and Jake would be blown apart, their dead bodies covered in shrapnel. The two backed up slowly, breathing heavily, both realizing how close they came to death, if they had accidentally touched it, it could have went off.
“That was really close” gasped Jake, still scared out of his wits. Robert nodded, and turned around to look for the building’s exit, anxious to leave this hell hold, and then let out a small scream. Jake, startled, turned around quickly, gun in one hand, axe in the other. Standing just four feet from them, the Psycho woman, back turned, eating something that neither of the two men cared to know.
And of course, they both noticed the thing sitting on her head. Actually, connected into her head. The Leech. The woman turned around, hearing Robert’s scream, and screamed that evil scream that came from the mouth of every Demon. What happened next happened incredibly fast.
Jake; kicked a chair laying near his feet at the Demon and fired two shots from his handgun at it,
Robert; tripped backwards over the corpse, displacing the grenade, then dropped down and grabbed the grenade by its safety
The Demon; got shot twice in the torso by Jake, and flipped through the air towards Robert, the easier prey.
The injured Demon began raking her sharp fingers across Robert’s chest, tempering his resolve; he could fight back and end the pain that the Demon was causing, at the cost of being killed by the grenade blast. “Run, just run Jake! RUN!” screamed Robert in-between the shrieks of pain. Jake knew what he had to do.
Using the last four shots in the revolver, he let loose a quick barrage of fire into the Demon, killing it, and leaving Robert bleeding and dying on the ground, still clutching onto the grenade. Jake ran over, grabbed the ‘nade, and tossed it out the broken windows onto the dark street. He thought he heard a small scream, but it was probably his imagination.
He ducked and started to attempt to bandage up his hurt friend, neglecting to check if the corpse laying just inches away was really a corpse. Robert had passed out from blood loss and shock as Jake examined him.
Jake knew only basic first-aid, so he basically just stared at the blood and tried to stop it from flowing out. Inside, he knew Robert was going to die, he could see most of Rob’s vital organs from the outside, but if he didn’t help him out, he would feel for the rest of his life like he had just let this man die.
While doing this, Jake didn’t notice the spiderlike Leech launch itself off the dead Demon and into the darkness of the office building’s cubicle filled corridors. A quick cough came from Robert, and his eyes opened.
“Oh my god, Rob, your alive!” shouted an ecstatic, slightly hysterical Jake. Robert’s almost dead eyes held no emotion as he said “Jake…I’m sorry… I can’t come with you to Maplewood...But I have to ask you a favor…” “What is it…What is it!?” asked a terrified Jake, “I need you to shoot me… The amount of pain I feel right now…Just please… Put a bullet in me…” he whispered in reply.
A quick moment of terror gripped Jake, and then suddenly it just went away. Like he just switched it down. Just turned off his ‘normal’ emotions, the emotions that he had had for his entire life, until this happened. The reason? He had just realized that there was no more need for ‘normal’ emotions. As far as he was concerned, nothing would ever be normal again. Armed with that knowledge, he picked up his .38 handgun, checked the ammo wheel, and almost cried. It just wasn’t fair.
Jake didn’t even have a single bullet to put his friend out of his misery. With tears in his eyes, he stood up, tossed the gun to the ground, and grabbed his axe. “I’m so sorry Robert, I’ll make sure your never forgotten”, and with that, he used his axe to put his injured friend out of his pain and into a place that we all hope is much better than here on Earth.
Of course, thanks to this fucking fog, the ‘survivor’ might have just been another Moaner. Jake had managed to find a wood cutting axe while running between yards to get to the Retirement Home. His car had been ripped to pieces, by humans or the Creatures; he had no clue, either way he had to walk.
Jake had visited two places while looking for equipment. He had checked out the gun store, found it in ruins, completely looted. Then he checked the nearest Wal-Mart. And found it on fire, meaning there was no way he was going into that hell.
After that, he had found another survivor, a trucker, who was as happy to see Jake as Jake was to see him. They both had driven together for about two miles until the huge amount of car wreckage forced them to stop. They had then split up, and Jake had told him to get the Maplewood Retirement Home, and because Jake doubted the other way had grenade wielding psychos, the trucker had probably already made it there. Jake ran out of his cover behind the car to behind a brick building.
A grenade landed right next to the Oldsmobile Jake had just been using as covered and detonated, resulting in a huge shockwave that knocked both Jake and the Psycho to the ground. Jake sprung back up, and saw a door through the brick building. “Hehe, she won’t even see it coming” murmured Jake as he pulled out his axe and stalked slowly into the building. It must have been an office at some time, because cubicles were scattered throughout the building.Jake walked by through the small hallways, ready to swing his axe at any moment.
A huge explosion shattered all the windows in the back of the building, and knocked the back door open, which also happened to scare the crap out of Jake.
He ran low to the ground throughout the cubicle area and found a door which lead into a break room. Looking for a room that was at least semi-solid, he stepped in. Only to be greeted by a high pitched scream.
Sitting behind a crummily made barricade was a man cowering in fear as a skeletal Demon was tearing through the ‘cade to the man. Upon Jake’s opening of the door, the Demon turned around, saw Jake, saw easier prey, and rushed him.
Jake saw the creature coming, but he didn’t think it would jump onto him, knocking him to the ground. Jake swung the axe at the Demon’s right arm, tearing it off, and giving him the opportunity to kick it away and run. Just as Jake began to run towards the break room, the Psycho woman from outside decided now to enter the building. Which, the Demon saw again as easy prey. And then he did what all good predator’s do. They feast.
Meanwhile, Jake ran into the break room, shut the door, and barricaded it with a pop machine. The man hidden behind the barricade began pushing out of it, making Jake jump. “Don’t shoot me, please! I just want to help!” shouted the man. Jake stuck his hand out and said “Jake Prior, and you?” The businessman looked uncertain for a minute, and then shook Jake’s hand. “Robert Dent, accountant. What the hell is going on?” asked Robert.
Jake laughed a little, feeling his sanity slowing dripping away, and then attempted to answer the question. “Hmm…To tell you the truth, I really have no clue. It’s like those things, those Creatures, it’s like they came here because of the fog. Or maybe, they created the fog…Like I said, I really have no clue” finished the slightly unnerved Jake, he stuck his hand in his pocket, a nervous gesture from his daily life.
“I don’t think we should stay here much longer…” murmured Robert. “Not a bad idea, that… I was actually on my way to meet a couple of friends of mine, over at the Maplewood Retirement Home, would you be interested in coming along?” asked Jake. R
obert’s eyes wandered to the tiled ceiling as he wondered what he should do. A loud scream echoed from outside the break room’s door, sounding the end of the battle, as well as interrupting Robert’s many thoughts. Jake’s hand shifted from his pocket to his .38 handgun, just as another scream, this one utterly inhuman, came from the hallway. Jake drew his revolver and kicked the pop machine blocking the door away in one swift movement.
He then slowly opened the door and looked out. And witnessed a most interesting sight. Lying on the ground was the armless, skeletal body of the demon, the woman nowhere to be seen. Robert picked up the leg from one of the broken wooden tables in the break room, and followed Jake as the two entered the room and beheld a grenade with its pin firmly in place lay on the ground.
Robert gasped when he saw the body, and realized something. “That thing, that thing had something on its head. It’s not there now!” whispered Robert, urgently. Jake looked at the corpse and realized something else. The top of its head, the place where the leech-ish thing had been was torn up and hollow. The two survivors cautiously stalked closer to the body inspected it for other clues.
And found a grenade, sans the pin, in the right hand of the body. Its thumb had been pressed down on the safety, meaning that if its thumb moved even an inch, both Robert and Jake would be blown apart, their dead bodies covered in shrapnel. The two backed up slowly, breathing heavily, both realizing how close they came to death, if they had accidentally touched it, it could have went off.
“That was really close” gasped Jake, still scared out of his wits. Robert nodded, and turned around to look for the building’s exit, anxious to leave this hell hold, and then let out a small scream. Jake, startled, turned around quickly, gun in one hand, axe in the other. Standing just four feet from them, the Psycho woman, back turned, eating something that neither of the two men cared to know.
And of course, they both noticed the thing sitting on her head. Actually, connected into her head. The Leech. The woman turned around, hearing Robert’s scream, and screamed that evil scream that came from the mouth of every Demon. What happened next happened incredibly fast.
Jake; kicked a chair laying near his feet at the Demon and fired two shots from his handgun at it,
Robert; tripped backwards over the corpse, displacing the grenade, then dropped down and grabbed the grenade by its safety
The Demon; got shot twice in the torso by Jake, and flipped through the air towards Robert, the easier prey.
The injured Demon began raking her sharp fingers across Robert’s chest, tempering his resolve; he could fight back and end the pain that the Demon was causing, at the cost of being killed by the grenade blast. “Run, just run Jake! RUN!” screamed Robert in-between the shrieks of pain. Jake knew what he had to do.
Using the last four shots in the revolver, he let loose a quick barrage of fire into the Demon, killing it, and leaving Robert bleeding and dying on the ground, still clutching onto the grenade. Jake ran over, grabbed the ‘nade, and tossed it out the broken windows onto the dark street. He thought he heard a small scream, but it was probably his imagination.
He ducked and started to attempt to bandage up his hurt friend, neglecting to check if the corpse laying just inches away was really a corpse. Robert had passed out from blood loss and shock as Jake examined him.
Jake knew only basic first-aid, so he basically just stared at the blood and tried to stop it from flowing out. Inside, he knew Robert was going to die, he could see most of Rob’s vital organs from the outside, but if he didn’t help him out, he would feel for the rest of his life like he had just let this man die.
While doing this, Jake didn’t notice the spiderlike Leech launch itself off the dead Demon and into the darkness of the office building’s cubicle filled corridors. A quick cough came from Robert, and his eyes opened.
“Oh my god, Rob, your alive!” shouted an ecstatic, slightly hysterical Jake. Robert’s almost dead eyes held no emotion as he said “Jake…I’m sorry… I can’t come with you to Maplewood...But I have to ask you a favor…” “What is it…What is it!?” asked a terrified Jake, “I need you to shoot me… The amount of pain I feel right now…Just please… Put a bullet in me…” he whispered in reply.
A quick moment of terror gripped Jake, and then suddenly it just went away. Like he just switched it down. Just turned off his ‘normal’ emotions, the emotions that he had had for his entire life, until this happened. The reason? He had just realized that there was no more need for ‘normal’ emotions. As far as he was concerned, nothing would ever be normal again. Armed with that knowledge, he picked up his .38 handgun, checked the ammo wheel, and almost cried. It just wasn’t fair.
Jake didn’t even have a single bullet to put his friend out of his misery. With tears in his eyes, he stood up, tossed the gun to the ground, and grabbed his axe. “I’m so sorry Robert, I’ll make sure your never forgotten”, and with that, he used his axe to put his injured friend out of his pain and into a place that we all hope is much better than here on Earth.
Angelica – Cedar Rapids – 9:35
Angelica walked down the dark, foggy streets of a town she once knew so well. She had been with her family, but somehow, they had all gotten split up around the time her father had been ripped apart by a mob of those Moaners.
She had ran and ran for blocks and blocks, but never found another living being. She heard gunshots, and screams from far away, but nothing close. And then she turned that corner. That corner which opened up into her personal hell.
She had just turned the corner and heard explosions, screams, and gun fire, but the fog was too thick to see anything. She ran, ran fast, tripped over a corpse, hit the ground, and suddenly, the sound just stopped. She got up, and looked around.
And just saw the blackness she had seen since the beginning. Angelica ran down the street, and after passing by a couple cars covered in a strange fire, she ran right into a brick building with broken windows.
She heard screaming and gunfire, and then suddenly some small object flew out the window and landed near her feet. She picked up the green object with her tiny hands, and looked at it.
On its side, it said “M67 Fragmentation Grenade, Composition B, 6.5 Ounces”. She stared at the object, transfixed, staring at the last thing she would ever see.
She had thought she had been in darkness before. Now she truly knew darkness…
Kelkesh12345 |
Latest page update: made by Kelkesh12345
, Feb 26 2009, 10:12 PM EST
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Keyword tags:
Dark
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Quarantine
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| Started By | Thread Subject | Replies | Last Post | ||
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| @@raoul | dark quarantine | 0 | Jan 15 2009, 4:17 AM EST by @@raoul | ||
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Thread started: Jan 15 2009, 4:17 AM EST
Watch
awesome cant wait for chapter 3 :]
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| @@raoul | Dark Quarantine | 4 | Jan 3 2009, 5:01 PM EST by Kelkesh12345 | ||
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Thread started: Jan 1 2009, 4:00 AM EST
Watch
it's awesome!
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