I am writing a zombie story. It will not be featured on this site for fear of plagerism, but you guys can be characters. Post here a realistic name, an occupation pre Z-Day, and any other necessary information (weapons of choice, etc.) Note that this has to resemble the real world, so you can't be a used car salesman and have an Arctic Warfare sniper rifle and an FN SCAR. Also post what kind of area you live in and what you do when the zombies come. BE REALISTIC.
The zombies are living ragers. Keep that in mind.
I'll let you know if I think something is wrong with your character (not being realistic or something). I will request a lock when I have enough characters.

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how do i put up a story?

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I want to assemble a community-generated idea of what civilization will look like Post-Zday. For this I will need your input. I DO NOT want to hear how you plan to do things with your BOL or whatever. I want to hear descriptions of how every one of you IMAGINES things to be when you think about life after z day. How do people dress, how do they talk, how do they act? Where is everyone? Nomadic groups or massive fortresses? Food, entertainment, life, etc.

And go...

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i was just trying to figure out what someone could do using zombies as revenge.

i have no good ideas that i havent seen in a movie already. maybe put them on a conveyor belt so the zombies eat them slowly. give them a steroid so that they cant pass out and let the zombies eat them. trap them in a building and herd a large horde of zombies to slowly get them?

i dont know... any ideas?

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i readed all tha story?i thought they all was good i wrote one when iwas about 10 its not as good as tha ones i jus read so i dont no if i put it on here!!!

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october 12,1998
i walked into my house after a long day panting in my mind i sliped into my chair as if i was going to sleep there fo four days i turned on the tv just in time the reporter i had always wached on mondays. Said that police had found a women aperently in her 20's homeless eating a buisness man by the name of Harold.R.Carter police say it just a act of caniable rabies other's say it's the end of the world that wwz .known as world war zombie has tooken place this is your reporter sharen k luis good night i tuned off the tv.The room turned pitch black i didnt belive was until i heard a scream i lived i the city but this scream was more hororifing than i have ever heard.I looked out my window there i saw man walking as if his leg was broken i was suprised he didnt even show pain when his bone came tarring out of his skin i grabed my 22. and my atutomatic carbine.I went out side it was about 2:00 am when i was about a yard and a half he stoped and stared at me his glowing red blood soked eyes sent a chill down my spine as i tightly sqeezed the 22. tightly i started to pull the triger slowly.Then as if the thing had super hearing it fastly walked at me then a car full of people ran him over blood frome the thing splatered all over the brick wall behind me and me out of amazement he stagered back up.Still charging at me i pulled the triger there a hole in his deformed skull lie the remanings of it's brains....... to be contiued

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ouldsomeoe plz make it into alink that someone could click.
plz read. it is otdoneyet

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I have no idea how to post fiction here. Could anyone help me?

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BEEP. BEEP.
I groaned. It was time for my shift at McDonald's and I haven't even woken up yet. I sat up and looked around blearily. Pretty Freekin Scary posters... black bra on the dresser... pink computer... what the hell was I doing in Cheryl's room? I looked next to me. There was Cheryl, sleeping next to me. She looked so perfect, iwth her supple skin. her shiny blond hair. I could imagine her sparkly blue eyes as she laughed. She was truly the coup de grace of girlfriends. Wait, I was in bed with Cheryl Plante? I looked down to my lower body. Thank God, I was wearing a condom. I wouldn't want to be the father of a son at age eighteen. I got out of bed and looked at the mirror. My tousled brown hair fell above my eyes. My green eyes stared at the mirror, glazed. I studied my muscular body. I was failing everything but phys ed. I can't tell you how many times I've been sent to the principal's office.
I can imagine Ms. Appleby staring at me now. "Mitch White, back again? I can't believe you got another D..." And I bet my parents can't believe it either. I looked at Cheryl, and remebered the other class I aced, sex ed. Thank you Lord in heaven.
I pulled on my clothes from yesterday and tiptoed down the stairs, not wanting to wake up Cher's parents, before I realized that they were both at work already.
When I hit at the bottom of the stairs, I was surprised to see DJ Loomis sitting on the couch, listening to Panic at the Disco, eating cereal, and watching TV.
DJ is Cheryl's half-brother. His mom married Cheryl's dad when Cheryl was eight and DJ was three. Unfortunately, Cheryl's dad is possibly the biggest cock-sucker on the face of the Earth, and when DJ's mom died three years ago, things got pretty bad around here.

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J.M. HRYCIW (xInfectedx)

Day Four

News update: Death toll still rising. Manitoba, Ontario, and Quebec placed under quarantine from the rest of Canada. Hospitals closed. Businesses closed. Advised to remain indoors in a secure location.

I ripped a few pages out of my notebook today.
There are so many people coming now, I'm setting up a table I found in the equipment room by the door so that I can leave the pages there for people to list and number themselves so I can see how many people we've got here and keep track of them. Hell, I'm wondering if I should put up a list of rules. I think I will, actually. But I'll add that to my list of things to do tomorrow.
What else have I got to do?
Well, according to Mom some people have talked to her about making a name for our group. Not really manditory for survival, but I guess they gotta do something. So tomorrow we'll discuss it and vote on a name for us.
I think I would lose my mind if it weren't for Tim, Rita, Alec, Stephan, and Claire. It's a good, grounding feeling to have the familiar faces of my friends. Well, Rita's new, but that's not the point.
Speaking of Rita, something she told me today really...I dunno, it was just weird. It was just a little while ago, actually, while I was on my way over to my sleeping bag.
"You know, you look just like your father did when he was your age, Jordan." she said.
I stopped dead. "What?"
"I remember he had soft brown eyes and dark hair. Just like you." Rita smiled.
"But how do you know what my father looks like? Let alone what he looked like when he was a teenager?" I asked.
"My mom and your dad were highschool sweethearts. There's pictures." she said.
I stared incredulously.
"Well, your dad's hair wasn't as long as yours,but still." she speculated.

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