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 Dead End - A Zombie Story

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Tekker

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Posts : 89
Join date : 2008-05-29
Age : 30
Location : My own personal downward spiral of insanity

PostSubject: Dead End - A Zombie Story   Fri Dec 05, 2008 3:07 am

Dead End.
Aaron Porter

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The moon shines brightly tonight, not a cloud in the sky. It all seems to be mocking my existence. The sour sweet smell of rotting flesh has been lurking around me for days and I have to say, I’m getting used to it.
They’ve been following me for ten grueling miles. Relentlessly smashing through every obstacle and barricade I’ve set for them. Why I thought a withered old farmhouse would work better I’ll never understand. Maybe I was just tired of running.
The cold metal of my gun has blistered my palm, my trigger finger chafed from over use. Clothing sopping wet with enough blood that it’d be impossible to tell me from one of them.

I’d bolted shut every door and window. The rotted out wood and broken glass panes remind me of the futility of my situation. Never the less, I sat down at the top of the second floor stairs, my .357 Smith & Wessen aimed at the front entrance.
I could hear them now, surrounding the building to prevent my escape. The glassless window behind me provided just enough light to watch the stairway I planned to funnel them through.

A loud smash came from the back porch; I could hear the door being ripped off the hinges. It would be over soon.
One of them rounded the railing and started up the stairs towards me. I instinctively put a bullet through its head, splattering chunks of its brain out onto the front door. The smell of gray matter enticed the undead outside, causing them to tear through the weakened old wood. They began pouring into the main hall rapidly.

They stumbled awkwardly over the corpse I’d just created and dragged them selves up the staircase. I lined up my shots, making sure that every one of them went through at least two skulls. Click click! The sound of my empty gun more frightening that the cadavers that stalked me. I panicked and kicked the closest limp body down at the rest of the hoard, hoping to at least slow them down.

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I bolted down the second floor hallway and opened the hatch of the attic. Unfortunately for me, there was no furniture or loose wood for me to barricade it shut with, so I was forced to hold it closed myself.
There was a single window, caked with years of dirt that blocked out nearly all light.
If there was something lurking in the shadows, I wouldn’t know until it was too late.

I struggled to hold the hatch shut, weary from days of struggle. This self made tomb offering me no rest. The decayed hand of one of my mindless enemies broke straight up through the door, returning down below and taking most of the barrier with it.
I darted over to the window and smashed it out with my empty revolver. There was nothing down below but the unstoppable mass of undead which pursued me. If the window had been on the rear of the building I might have had a shot at landing on the porch roof, but even that wouldn’t have been enough to save me. For a brief moment I was able to pick out the zombified friends and family in the crowd. I could waste no sympathy on them now, as their goal was now to devour me alive.

The lifeless bodies began climbing up into the attic, reaching half decayed hands out for me. There was no other choice left, I squeezed myself through the tiny window and grabbed for the edge of the roof.
I finally managed to pull myself up onto the decrepit shingles, my gun falling from my pocket in the climb and nailing some random zombie below me in the eye. Arms reached out of the window longingly, hungry for my precious flesh.
The moon hides behind the clouds, casting a shadow that blocked my view of what could be thousands of ghouls clawing and moaning to satisfy their hunger. Deprived of the hope the light had once brought me, I dug into my pockets to find one remaining bullet. If only I still had my weapon, I would be able to avoid my horrid fate.

There was no one left to rescue me. I was left only with the option of choosing my method of demise. Would a fall from this height kill me? Or just cripple me for the painful feast I was attempting to avoid? How long would the roof bare my weight? Long enough for starvation to set in? Is this how it ends for me? How pathetic! There must be a way to survive…

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Tekker

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Posts : 89
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Age : 30
Location : My own personal downward spiral of insanity

PostSubject: Re: Dead End - A Zombie Story   Fri Dec 05, 2008 3:08 am

Dead End 2
A Better Day to Die

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Aaron Porter

The sun started to rise, finally giving me enough light to write my final message to the world. I still had the pen and paper… Almost too coincidental that I was trying to live now. My suicide note was going to be a bit different than I originally planned.

“Dear those left alive.

There are two possible ways you could’ve gotten this letter. A: You looted it off my zombified carcass, or B: There wasn’t enough left of me to mutate and you found this at still the same death trap of a house I’m regretting ever going into.
Three days ago, I got fired from my job by my girlfriend/boss. I was out on the street in more than one way. I got very depressed and spent most of my time thinking about what sucks about modern day life. Corrupted politics driving our society down the drain, money controlling every single action we take, unloyal spouses cheating on one another. It seemed to me that society itself was fucked beyond repair. I didn’t want to live in a world like that; it just wasn’t worth struggling for.
But, even though I’d been driven to loathe people, I’m still sorry for the selfish acts that have kept me alive this long. Was it worth that many lives to save me? Someone who wanted to die?

I’m sorry to the surviving relatives of the people who were kept in the police station's shelter. I thought heading out to help hold them off was the right thing to do! If I’d know the injured man in the corner would’ve become one of them I wouldn’t have barricaded the door behind me.
I’d like to say one thing before these things finally get me. It doesn’t matter what life was like before, all the tedious things that drove us nuts or all the annoying people we had to deal with, AT LEAST THEY WEREN’T TRYING TO EAT YOU! The contrast I’ve seen since this all began is indescribable! I’ve seen living humans sacrifice more of their humanity than these damned corpses just to survive! And fail!
So if there’s anyone, ANYONE who can get this letter, forgive the way things are! They could be much much worse.”

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I folded my final thoughts and stuck them in my pocket, that way the blood wouldn’t stain the page as much. But that didn’t mean I was going to keel over and die!
There was enough sunlight to reveal just how old this roof was. The slate shingles were chipped and loose from years of wind and rain. I took a decent number of them and threw them like Frisbees down at the sea of reanimated bodies below me. When I went back for more ammo, I noticed one of the horizontal supporters for the roof through the whole I was making.
Despite the fact that the attic was now swarmed with undead, I still somehow managed to kick at the wooden beam without being bitten. I smashed away until it broke free and pulled it up to the apex of the roof. Sliding it down the rear, I used the beam as a ladder to get down onto the top of the porch that sat behind the house. I then flipped it down onto the ground, the top end just barely landing on the fence that boxed the zombies in with me. If I could run up it as a ramp I might stand a chance for survival.

I took a few minutes to summon up the courage and stupidity for what I was about to do, but before I could the mangled cannibals started tearing away at the roof I sat on! Adrenaline would have to make up for the bravery I lacked.
I jumped down from my hiding place, landing foot first on a cadaver that oddly resembled my third grade teacher, and used its face as a springboard to get to the wooden ramp. I briefly thought how odd it was that third grade was the last time I tried running across a balance beam.
I almost made it to the fence when a horrid looking mailman grabbed my pant leg and pulled me crotch first down on the rotted wood. The pain kept me from doing anything but watch, as the thing opened its blood drooling mouth wide and reached in to end my days as a human.

Just as its teeth touched my pants, a bullet whizzed through its skull. I didn’t take the time to see just who had rescued me, pulling myself up and over the wood fence and into temporary freedom. But, as with everything else I put in their way, the hoard started to bash through the fence.
The hand of a soldier came down and pulled me to my feet. He turned to me, gasmask hiding any expression, and said “Let’s go! Your luck won’t be enough if they get their teeth into ya’!” Him and his partner threw my arms over their shoulders and carried me off like I’d been shot in the leg. After all, I was incopasitated in much the same way.

End.

_________________
"Shut the fuck up and do what I say, for god's sake!! God, I hate all of you so fucking much!!"
~ Most used phrase by me when we film
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