this is a story another dude from another forum i belong to made. I MAKE NO CLAIMS TO WRITING THIS
They were all dead. All of them. What used to be, what could have been, none of that matters anymore. David thought all of this as he gazed below at the abyss. The abyss of a city that once held thousands, millions. New York.
He pulled out a pack of smokes and shook the box. The hollow sound of his last cigarette reverberated in the emptiness around him. He pulled the crumpled stick out and stuck it into his mouth, lighting it with the chromed zippo he always carried with him. In the distance, a low groan came and echoed against the buildings. Damn, lost track of time again. He thought. They’ll be here soon. I’d best get going. His legs dangled off the edge of the building he was sitting on. David took a deep drag and looked down into at the streets once again. They were empty, but that would change in a few minutes. I should know better He thought to himself. These things’ll kill me one day. Looking wantonly at his last cigarette, and then casting a shrug, he tossed it behind him onto the gravel rooftop of the building. David planted his feet onto the roof top, patted off the cigarette ash that stuck to his suede jacket and jeans, and then walked to the stairs that led back into what used to be the New York Downtown Hospital.
…
Chapter 1: Noon
“We are receiving information that—“ *click* “---thousands upon thousands---” *click* “---open riots in the streets---“ *click* “---panic and confusion, police barricades are overru---“ *click* “---dead have come to life and are eating the living.”
David Kessel stared at the TV blankly. He was never one to watch TV but recently it became his obsession. It didn’t matter which channel he turned to. They were all covering the same thing.
“Did you hear me? I said the dead are eating the living and all you’re talking about is some bullshit about police brutality!”
“Dead people can’t move! These people are HUMAN BEINGS! They have rights guaranteed by the constituti-“
“Those rights don’t apply anymore! They’re dead! They can’t use free speech if they’re DEAD! The world isn’t the same!”
The talking heads on the news bickered amongst themselves but David paid no attention. They were merely murmurs in the distance as he sat on his rat eaten couch, cigarette in hand. His apartment in downtown Manhattan had fallen to shambles, dirty clothes and empty food containers everywhere. But he wouldn’t care for it. There were more dire events at hand.
Suddenly, a loud series of thuds resonated from his door. The spell of the television was broken and suddenly, David realized the cigarette had burned all the way to his fingers. He hadn’t noticed.
“Open up! It’s the police! We have an evacuation order!”
The knocking continued and David got up and walked towards the door. He looked through the keyhole but he saw nothing but darkness. The hallways lights must be off He thought to himself. He undid his locks and turned the door knob.
What happened next was a blur. The door swung back and connected with his face, knocking him to the ground. Two men, dressed in baggy jeans, t shirts and bandannas stormed into his room. David tried to get to his feet to protest, but the smaller of the two shoved a nickel plated Bersa .380 pistol into his face. David went wide eyed and shut himself up.
“Hah hah! They fall for it every time. What do we do with him now?”
“Kill him, then grab as much as you can and load it in the car.”
David’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. The man in front of him gave an exasperated look, then cocked his gun.
“Vaya con dios, mothafu-“
In the blink of an eye, David grabbed the gun and then pulled the man’s arm downward, trying desperately to pull the man’s finger out of the trigger guard. The other man quickly realized what was happening and walked forward, revolver in hand.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
With all of his strength, David pulled the man’s hand away from the gun.
*BANG*
The .380 barked unexpectedly and David opened his eyes. The man on top of him went limp, shot through the heart. The other man’s jaw dropped.”
“You little shi-“
David pulled the gun from underneath the man’s body and fired blindly at the other man.
*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG*
The other man slumped against the wall, and then down to the ground. A red streak covered the moldy wall behind him.
David pushed the body off of him and took in all the sights around him. For the first time, he heard something besides for the TV that had kept him company the last week. He turned around and saw the punk had fired his gun as well, but the bullet missed and struck the window instead. The sound of sirens and gunfire filled the air. David walked to the window and looked outside.
The streets had become a warzone. From his apartment he could see bodies lining the streets and people, some police, some not, shooting at other people. Some of them were shooting back. Some of them were unarmed and just getting shot. Except the unarmed people who were getting shot at were not falling down.
David looked down at the empty pistol in his hand. He then looked at the two bodies in his room. Oh my God. The shock finally registered that he had killed not two men, but two boys. Two teenage boys. He shook his head quickly. It had to be done. It was me or them. He walked to the bodies and searched them, finding 2 spare .380 magazines and the .38 Smith and Wesson revolver with 18 rounds of ammunition. He tossed his bloodsoaked shirt to the ground, picked up a clean white shirt and his suede jacket, and walked to the door. He walked out and locked the door behind him.
The world isn’t the same.
A zombie story
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• Page 1 of 5 • 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
A zombie story
by Maskan » Tue Jan 22, 2008 6:45 pm
zilabus wrote:Maskan, you never make mistakes. Ever.
cd wrote:Steamer of Cleveland wrote:Durandal wrote:I've done it at least ten ti- is that Machieavdelalellsielsiamnism? fapfapfapfapfap
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Maskan - FLCLW Fat Cat
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by Maskan » Wed Jan 23, 2008 4:00 am
Chapter 2: Downward Spiral
The door slammed shut behind him as David took a look down the hall. His room was the last one in the hall and appropriately enough, the doors to every other room in the hall were open. Those idiots must have sacked each and every one of these rooms, he thought. As he walked down the hall an eerie silence followed. He realized he was probably the only one left on the 7th floor, if not, the whole building. His media induced trance left him completely oblivious to what was actually happening in his own home. He walked to the elevator and pushed the call button, then waited.
The floor numbers lighted up above him until the number 7 became illuminated and a hollow *ding* was heard. The elevator doors parted in front of him and David leapt backward.
A fat man, dressed in a bathrobe and slippers, laid on his knees in the elevator. In front of the man was the bloodied corpse of a middle aged woman. That shocked David enough, but the really shocking thing was what the man was doing.
He was eating her arm.
David yelped and continued to back away as quickly as he could. He pulled the .380 pistol from his coat pocket and squeezed the trigger. Except it wouldn’t fire.
He became frantic. The fat man tore the pinky finger off the hand, chewed for a bit, and then looked up. David saw his milky, white eyes. They were empty. The fat man dropped the arm and began to stand up. David, thinking fast, kicked the man in his blubbery chest. He was heavy, and the kick knocked both of them backwards. The man collapsed against the wall of the elevator, but then steadied himself and prepared to lunge forward. Then, another hollow *ding* followed as the doors closed and the man disappeared behind them, pounding away at the steel. David was breathing quickly. He looked up and saw the elevator was heading up, not down to the lobby like it should. The lights stopped on the 9th floor and David heard a terrible scream. He winced, and then ran towards the stairwell.
Stopping at the stairwell, he checked the pistol in his hand and found the slide locked back. Just like in the movies, he thought to himself. David had never even seen a gun before today, to say nothing of shooting one. He fumbled around and found the magazine release button. The empty magazine clattered to the ground. He slipped in the fresh one with seven cartridges and then jacked the slide back. He headed down the stairs.
The stairwell was thankfully empty, but that didn’t stop David from being extra cautious as he inched his way down. Somewhere between the 2nd and 3rd floors, written in blood against the wall of the stairwell, read “REPENT THE END IS VERY F*CKING NIGH” David found the blood went straight from the wall to the floor and continued down the stairs. He inched down to the lobby, pistol in hand.
At the center of the lobby lay Jerry, the building’s security guard. He laid face flat on the tile, three other corpses in front of him. He was pristine except for the single hole in his head. At his side laid his Glock, the slide locked back, empty. Loyal to the end, Jerry. David thought. He left and continued out the building exit.
Outside, David got a broader view of what he saw from the window. The city had descended into complete chaos. People were running around everywhere. Abandoned cars lined the streets and bullet riddled bodies littered the sidewalks. David looked across the street and saw a teenager dressed just like the ones he murdered up in his apartment flat. The boy was standing next to a blue El Camino, firing his Beretta nonstop at a group of shambling, bloodied people.
“Stay the hell away!”
He fired until he clicked dry, but they did not even slow down. The crowd descended upon him and tore him to pieces. David looked at the idling car. He ran towards it, just a few feet away past the preoccupied crowd, and jumped into the front seat. He slammed the door shut and stepped hard on the gas.
I gotta get as far away from the city as I can get, he thought to himself. He drove through the streets, weaving through the abandoned cars until at last he could no longer pass through them. He hit the brakes and looked in front of him. Cars, dozens of them, back to back, bumper to bumper. Many of them still had their doors open as their owners had left in such great haste.
Damn, David thought to himself. He exited the car and continued walking down Williams Street. He continued straight until he saw it. The place where he worked by day as a Volunteer. The Downtown Hospital. He hesitated. What if it was compromised? What if it was just as infested as his apartment? He looked outside and saw the winter sun was quickly setting. No choice anymore, he thought. At least I know a few places in there that are safe. As he walked towards it through the sea of cars, David thought to himself: My home away from home.
there ya go
The door slammed shut behind him as David took a look down the hall. His room was the last one in the hall and appropriately enough, the doors to every other room in the hall were open. Those idiots must have sacked each and every one of these rooms, he thought. As he walked down the hall an eerie silence followed. He realized he was probably the only one left on the 7th floor, if not, the whole building. His media induced trance left him completely oblivious to what was actually happening in his own home. He walked to the elevator and pushed the call button, then waited.
The floor numbers lighted up above him until the number 7 became illuminated and a hollow *ding* was heard. The elevator doors parted in front of him and David leapt backward.
A fat man, dressed in a bathrobe and slippers, laid on his knees in the elevator. In front of the man was the bloodied corpse of a middle aged woman. That shocked David enough, but the really shocking thing was what the man was doing.
He was eating her arm.
David yelped and continued to back away as quickly as he could. He pulled the .380 pistol from his coat pocket and squeezed the trigger. Except it wouldn’t fire.
He became frantic. The fat man tore the pinky finger off the hand, chewed for a bit, and then looked up. David saw his milky, white eyes. They were empty. The fat man dropped the arm and began to stand up. David, thinking fast, kicked the man in his blubbery chest. He was heavy, and the kick knocked both of them backwards. The man collapsed against the wall of the elevator, but then steadied himself and prepared to lunge forward. Then, another hollow *ding* followed as the doors closed and the man disappeared behind them, pounding away at the steel. David was breathing quickly. He looked up and saw the elevator was heading up, not down to the lobby like it should. The lights stopped on the 9th floor and David heard a terrible scream. He winced, and then ran towards the stairwell.
Stopping at the stairwell, he checked the pistol in his hand and found the slide locked back. Just like in the movies, he thought to himself. David had never even seen a gun before today, to say nothing of shooting one. He fumbled around and found the magazine release button. The empty magazine clattered to the ground. He slipped in the fresh one with seven cartridges and then jacked the slide back. He headed down the stairs.
The stairwell was thankfully empty, but that didn’t stop David from being extra cautious as he inched his way down. Somewhere between the 2nd and 3rd floors, written in blood against the wall of the stairwell, read “REPENT THE END IS VERY F*CKING NIGH” David found the blood went straight from the wall to the floor and continued down the stairs. He inched down to the lobby, pistol in hand.
At the center of the lobby lay Jerry, the building’s security guard. He laid face flat on the tile, three other corpses in front of him. He was pristine except for the single hole in his head. At his side laid his Glock, the slide locked back, empty. Loyal to the end, Jerry. David thought. He left and continued out the building exit.
Outside, David got a broader view of what he saw from the window. The city had descended into complete chaos. People were running around everywhere. Abandoned cars lined the streets and bullet riddled bodies littered the sidewalks. David looked across the street and saw a teenager dressed just like the ones he murdered up in his apartment flat. The boy was standing next to a blue El Camino, firing his Beretta nonstop at a group of shambling, bloodied people.
“Stay the hell away!”
He fired until he clicked dry, but they did not even slow down. The crowd descended upon him and tore him to pieces. David looked at the idling car. He ran towards it, just a few feet away past the preoccupied crowd, and jumped into the front seat. He slammed the door shut and stepped hard on the gas.
I gotta get as far away from the city as I can get, he thought to himself. He drove through the streets, weaving through the abandoned cars until at last he could no longer pass through them. He hit the brakes and looked in front of him. Cars, dozens of them, back to back, bumper to bumper. Many of them still had their doors open as their owners had left in such great haste.
Damn, David thought to himself. He exited the car and continued walking down Williams Street. He continued straight until he saw it. The place where he worked by day as a Volunteer. The Downtown Hospital. He hesitated. What if it was compromised? What if it was just as infested as his apartment? He looked outside and saw the winter sun was quickly setting. No choice anymore, he thought. At least I know a few places in there that are safe. As he walked towards it through the sea of cars, David thought to himself: My home away from home.
there ya go
zilabus wrote:Maskan, you never make mistakes. Ever.
cd wrote:Steamer of Cleveland wrote:Durandal wrote:I've done it at least ten ti- is that Machieavdelalellsielsiamnism? fapfapfapfapfap
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Maskan - FLCLW Fat Cat
- Posts: 10207
- Joined: Tue Aug 08, 2006 12:18 am
- Location: Not sure myself
by Maskan » Fri Jan 25, 2008 2:57 am
Here you go
Chapter 3: Home is Where the Heart is
The door hadn’t been locked, which was a good thing at least. David stepped into the hospital lobby and looked around. It looked just like it had the day he left it; clean, sanitary except absolutely devoid of people. But shouldn’t a hospital have sick people? He thought to himself. The fluorescent lights flickered on and off, bathing the lobby with a sense of dread. David looked to his right and found the snack shop. He walked in and surveyed the shop. There were 3 aisles worth of every kind of snack food one could imagine, as well as two refrigerator fulls of sodas and drinks. This’ll keep me at least until I can figure a way out of here, he thought to himself. He walked down the last aisle, content with his temporary home, until he fell flat on his face. The hard fall left him seeing spots in his eyes, but he could see enough.
Latched onto his leg was Mr. Nguyen, the shopkeeper. Except Mr. Nguyen’s left cheek and eye were missing. He opened his maws slowly, intent on taking a chunk out of David’s leg. David turned around and kicked him in the face; he then crawled backwards a few feet, taking aim with his pistol.
*BANG*
The bullet impacted his shoulder, having no effect on him. He crawled closer.
*BANG BANG*
The first one nicked his right ear, taking it clean off. The second one hit him in the forehead just above the hole in his left eye. Mr. Nguyen stopped moving.
David panted heavily. The gun smoking in his hand, he stood up and looked at the man who had sold him Cokes for the past year and a half. He noticed that Mr. Nguyen’s legs were bloody stumps at the knees. So that’s why he was crawling, he thought to himself. Suddenly something clicked in David’s head. He remembered that Mr. Nguyen’s wife was always behind the counter with him…
David walked cautiously towards the counter, pistol at the ready. He peered slowly over the counter. He saw the Mrs, her face torn off. But that didn’t stop her from chewing on the bone of what appeared to be her husband’s right leg.
*BANG*
David walked out of the store, carrying a shopping basket worth of water and snacks. He stumbled for a bit, and then fell to his knees. He wept hard, the tears streaming from his face like rain from the skies. One word echoed in his head.
Why?
Chapter 3: Home is Where the Heart is
The door hadn’t been locked, which was a good thing at least. David stepped into the hospital lobby and looked around. It looked just like it had the day he left it; clean, sanitary except absolutely devoid of people. But shouldn’t a hospital have sick people? He thought to himself. The fluorescent lights flickered on and off, bathing the lobby with a sense of dread. David looked to his right and found the snack shop. He walked in and surveyed the shop. There were 3 aisles worth of every kind of snack food one could imagine, as well as two refrigerator fulls of sodas and drinks. This’ll keep me at least until I can figure a way out of here, he thought to himself. He walked down the last aisle, content with his temporary home, until he fell flat on his face. The hard fall left him seeing spots in his eyes, but he could see enough.
Latched onto his leg was Mr. Nguyen, the shopkeeper. Except Mr. Nguyen’s left cheek and eye were missing. He opened his maws slowly, intent on taking a chunk out of David’s leg. David turned around and kicked him in the face; he then crawled backwards a few feet, taking aim with his pistol.
*BANG*
The bullet impacted his shoulder, having no effect on him. He crawled closer.
*BANG BANG*
The first one nicked his right ear, taking it clean off. The second one hit him in the forehead just above the hole in his left eye. Mr. Nguyen stopped moving.
David panted heavily. The gun smoking in his hand, he stood up and looked at the man who had sold him Cokes for the past year and a half. He noticed that Mr. Nguyen’s legs were bloody stumps at the knees. So that’s why he was crawling, he thought to himself. Suddenly something clicked in David’s head. He remembered that Mr. Nguyen’s wife was always behind the counter with him…
David walked cautiously towards the counter, pistol at the ready. He peered slowly over the counter. He saw the Mrs, her face torn off. But that didn’t stop her from chewing on the bone of what appeared to be her husband’s right leg.
*BANG*
David walked out of the store, carrying a shopping basket worth of water and snacks. He stumbled for a bit, and then fell to his knees. He wept hard, the tears streaming from his face like rain from the skies. One word echoed in his head.
Why?
zilabus wrote:Maskan, you never make mistakes. Ever.
cd wrote:Steamer of Cleveland wrote:Durandal wrote:I've done it at least ten ti- is that Machieavdelalellsielsiamnism? fapfapfapfapfap
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Maskan - FLCLW Fat Cat
- Posts: 10207
- Joined: Tue Aug 08, 2006 12:18 am
- Location: Not sure myself
by one_armed_scissor » Fri Jan 25, 2008 4:15 am
lol at least this story makes sence at first
unlike my story XD
unlike my story XD
Why did I move here? I guess it was the weather...
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one_armed_scissor - FLCLW Fat Cat
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by Maskan » Fri Jan 25, 2008 4:27 am
so you like?
zilabus wrote:Maskan, you never make mistakes. Ever.
cd wrote:Steamer of Cleveland wrote:Durandal wrote:I've done it at least ten ti- is that Machieavdelalellsielsiamnism? fapfapfapfapfap
-
Maskan - FLCLW Fat Cat
- Posts: 10207
- Joined: Tue Aug 08, 2006 12:18 am
- Location: Not sure myself
by one_armed_scissor » Fri Jan 25, 2008 4:28 am
yaya!
Why did I move here? I guess it was the weather...
-
one_armed_scissor - FLCLW Fat Cat
- Posts: 7012
- Joined: Mon Mar 19, 2007 11:39 pm
- Location: Weeaboo Texas
by Maskan » Fri Jan 25, 2008 4:29 am
good cuss theres plenty more
zilabus wrote:Maskan, you never make mistakes. Ever.
cd wrote:Steamer of Cleveland wrote:Durandal wrote:I've done it at least ten ti- is that Machieavdelalellsielsiamnism? fapfapfapfapfap
-
Maskan - FLCLW Fat Cat
- Posts: 10207
- Joined: Tue Aug 08, 2006 12:18 am
- Location: Not sure myself
by Maskan » Fri Jan 25, 2008 4:23 pm
Here you guys go
Chapter 4: Respite
Night had fallen, and David knew he had to find a secure place to stay if he wanted to last. The hospital was full of office rooms and such, but he knew he would have to stay away from two places: the medical wards and the morgue. Both would be packed with more of them and he didn’t have enough ammunition or strength to clear out the entire hospital. He wiped the tears off his face, and then walked over to the couches and benches that surrounded the lobby. He dragged them, one by one, over to the entrance, piling them one on top of another to block the entryway. It’s not much, he thought, but it’ll do for now. David dropped the magazine from his pistol and inserted a fresh one in, pocketing the left over magazine and the two rounds in it. Let’s find a place to sleep, he thought. He walked out of the lobby and down the hall, carrying the shopping basket in his left hand and the pistol in his right.
Most of the doors in the hall were locked, and the rooms that were open did not have comfortable furnishings. David walked to the end of the hall then turned left to face the giant sign and the large, green double doors that he recognized and dreaded.
Emergency Room.
He turned around, but stopped. It can’t be all that bad, can it? He thought. He turned back to the doors and edged slowly to the small window in the left door. He looked through.
The lights flickered on and off on the other side of the doors, but David could see enough to turn his stomach. The walls of the ER were covered in blood and the half eaten bodies of nurses and patients were visible in the hall. Most of them were still. Some of them weren’t.
David backed away from the doors. The doors could be opened one of two ways, by pressing on the electronic door open button on both sides of the doors, or by manually turning the knobs and pushing the doors. The chances those things had the mental capacity to push the electronic door button were slim. But what if they accidentally triggered it and freed themselves? The thought unsettled David greatly. He would have to barricade the doors as well, or perhaps stay clear of the entire area. He turned around and headed back.
After about an hour of searching, David found the perfect room. It belonged to the resident psychiatrist and thus had a comfortable couch to sleep in as well as a reclining chair. The door lock functioned perfectly and the room was clear of any of those things. There was even a small radio that the old Doc must’ve listened to whenever he didn’t have an appointment. He turned the radio on.
Static.
David shrugged. He should have figured as much. He tuned through the channels anyways, hoping to hear a human voice.
“Violence--- escalated--- people are---cuation is being ordered--- are fighting off the infected personnel as we are broadcasting to you live, Mark, what can you tell us from the combat zone?”
Silence.
“We, uhh we may be experiencing some technical difficulties. We’ll get back to Mark later. Keep tuned for more breaking news on th-
A pause.
“Folks, I’ve been told that we’re going off the air. The outbreak has apparently… oh Christ. They’re outside? Are you serious?”
Another pause.
“This… this will be the last transmission made by WKYG Connecticut. We will be switching to the emergency broadcast system. I… Folks, it’s been great talking to you for the last few years. I-“
A crashing sound is heard.
“No stay back! Stay ba—“
*beep* “You are now tuned to the emergency broadcasting system. The list of safe zones from infection in the Tri State area is as follows…”
David’s face went blank. He listened in solemnly. None of the safe zones were remotely close to where he was downtown. The closest one was in Yonkers, and that was 20 miles away. He’d need his rest along with a miracle if he were to make it out of the city in one piece.
David switched the radio off and climbed back into the couch. He wrapped the blanket around him and tried to sleep.
Yonkers.
That’s where Mom and Dad and Jen will be.
Please let them be there.
Please.
Chapter 4: Respite
Night had fallen, and David knew he had to find a secure place to stay if he wanted to last. The hospital was full of office rooms and such, but he knew he would have to stay away from two places: the medical wards and the morgue. Both would be packed with more of them and he didn’t have enough ammunition or strength to clear out the entire hospital. He wiped the tears off his face, and then walked over to the couches and benches that surrounded the lobby. He dragged them, one by one, over to the entrance, piling them one on top of another to block the entryway. It’s not much, he thought, but it’ll do for now. David dropped the magazine from his pistol and inserted a fresh one in, pocketing the left over magazine and the two rounds in it. Let’s find a place to sleep, he thought. He walked out of the lobby and down the hall, carrying the shopping basket in his left hand and the pistol in his right.
Most of the doors in the hall were locked, and the rooms that were open did not have comfortable furnishings. David walked to the end of the hall then turned left to face the giant sign and the large, green double doors that he recognized and dreaded.
Emergency Room.
He turned around, but stopped. It can’t be all that bad, can it? He thought. He turned back to the doors and edged slowly to the small window in the left door. He looked through.
The lights flickered on and off on the other side of the doors, but David could see enough to turn his stomach. The walls of the ER were covered in blood and the half eaten bodies of nurses and patients were visible in the hall. Most of them were still. Some of them weren’t.
David backed away from the doors. The doors could be opened one of two ways, by pressing on the electronic door open button on both sides of the doors, or by manually turning the knobs and pushing the doors. The chances those things had the mental capacity to push the electronic door button were slim. But what if they accidentally triggered it and freed themselves? The thought unsettled David greatly. He would have to barricade the doors as well, or perhaps stay clear of the entire area. He turned around and headed back.
After about an hour of searching, David found the perfect room. It belonged to the resident psychiatrist and thus had a comfortable couch to sleep in as well as a reclining chair. The door lock functioned perfectly and the room was clear of any of those things. There was even a small radio that the old Doc must’ve listened to whenever he didn’t have an appointment. He turned the radio on.
Static.
David shrugged. He should have figured as much. He tuned through the channels anyways, hoping to hear a human voice.
“Violence--- escalated--- people are---cuation is being ordered--- are fighting off the infected personnel as we are broadcasting to you live, Mark, what can you tell us from the combat zone?”
Silence.
“We, uhh we may be experiencing some technical difficulties. We’ll get back to Mark later. Keep tuned for more breaking news on th-
A pause.
“Folks, I’ve been told that we’re going off the air. The outbreak has apparently… oh Christ. They’re outside? Are you serious?”
Another pause.
“This… this will be the last transmission made by WKYG Connecticut. We will be switching to the emergency broadcast system. I… Folks, it’s been great talking to you for the last few years. I-“
A crashing sound is heard.
“No stay back! Stay ba—“
*beep* “You are now tuned to the emergency broadcasting system. The list of safe zones from infection in the Tri State area is as follows…”
David’s face went blank. He listened in solemnly. None of the safe zones were remotely close to where he was downtown. The closest one was in Yonkers, and that was 20 miles away. He’d need his rest along with a miracle if he were to make it out of the city in one piece.
David switched the radio off and climbed back into the couch. He wrapped the blanket around him and tried to sleep.
Yonkers.
That’s where Mom and Dad and Jen will be.
Please let them be there.
Please.
zilabus wrote:Maskan, you never make mistakes. Ever.
cd wrote:Steamer of Cleveland wrote:Durandal wrote:I've done it at least ten ti- is that Machieavdelalellsielsiamnism? fapfapfapfapfap
-
Maskan - FLCLW Fat Cat
- Posts: 10207
- Joined: Tue Aug 08, 2006 12:18 am
- Location: Not sure myself
by cool fifteen » Fri Jan 25, 2008 10:06 pm
I read the first chapter, didn't feel like reading the other ones just yet, but it was pretty good.
- cool fifteen
- FLCL Royalty
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by Maskan » Sun Jan 27, 2008 8:34 pm
it gets clearer as it goes CD but ill post more when i can, the site where i get this from is down at the moment
zilabus wrote:Maskan, you never make mistakes. Ever.
cd wrote:Steamer of Cleveland wrote:Durandal wrote:I've done it at least ten ti- is that Machieavdelalellsielsiamnism? fapfapfapfapfap
-
Maskan - FLCLW Fat Cat
- Posts: 10207
- Joined: Tue Aug 08, 2006 12:18 am
- Location: Not sure myself
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