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FuipuiDate: Su, 04.March.12, 6:19 PM | Message # 1
Group: Moderators
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The growling, moaning noises from outside the door resounded loudly, growing in volume quickly. Hera Squirrl rummaged through her basement, trying to find a weapon—some sort of weapon, something to fight off these infectious monstrosities.
The volume of the noise increased steadily still. Hera heard a loud crack, and the noises were louder than before. The door shook with the pressure of the zombies smashing against it. Hera screamed. And that was the last sound she uttered. The door crashed in with an ear-splitting crack, and the creatures spilled in, suffocating her in fear, not even giving her time to scream.
The zombies swarmed the collapsed body. Heart attacks happen many times a day. This certain heart attack was caused by pure, uncontrollable fear. The zombies stumbled away from the body, and started creeping up the stairs. The body lay on the cold cement floor of Hera’s basement, nearly none of the flesh which used to cover the woman’s now exposed bone there anymore.
Minutes later, there was a slight sound from the basement. Possibly a rat, possibly something falling. Under normal circumstances, that is. But at this point, it wasn’t normal circumstances. This was considered an apocalypse situation. This was considered The End of it all, the end of everybody, the end of everything.
This sound was a small growling, moaning noise. One closely associated with the zombies from critically acclaimed movies like Dawn of the Dead, or, more classic, Night of the Living Dead. Hera’s dead body shot up off the floor, sitting up like somebody waking up abruptly from a nightmare. The remaining flesh of the woman’s face had turned a sickly green. The body’s knees bent as it started to stand. The grotesque version of the woman’s corpse stood, and started staggering towards the stairs out of her basement.
And so the town of Rewuny, Oklahoma, the first to fall to the infection, officially had no living population left.

Chapter 1

Now, this story—It’s not exactly your regular tale. Or course, there’s the presence of zombies, but there is much more to this. You see, it’s not exactly easy to explain, but I’ll try. The only way I can see myself doing this is from recapping today’s events. This…let’s just call it a bump in the road…all began like stories such as this always begin. Somebody gets sick. The doctors think it’s the flu. Of course, they’re wrong. Within a week, half of Oklahoma is gone as the living dead ravage the state. You see, I was not aware of this until my house was in flames. I don’t enjoy the news—Honestly, it’s always bad. So, as you probably assume, I do not watch it. Sure, I heard of the creepy flu that started in some obscure town called Rewuny. I thought nothing of it, and brushed it off as my friends teasing me (I’m a hypochondriac, you see). Back on today’s events, anyways. So, I woke up, made a pot of coffee, all the normal crap you’d do in a normal morning. I went to work on my computer, as it was Sunday morning and I am an aspiring author.

Ha, I got a great chance now. Too bad all the publishers are now zombies. The bump in the road got to Oklahoma City, my home, at precisely that moment. My friend on the edge of town was being mauled by some creature as I leisurely sipped coffee and tap-tap-tapped away on my little HP computer. I paid no attention to the screams down the block, at about two P.M. I laughed a bit, actually. Silly little kid, Michael, down the block; always gleefully cheering as he rode his bike. Today, it wasn't cheering; today, it wasn't exactly that gleeful. How was I to know, though? At two-thirty, I heard the sirens. Panic boiled inside me, now. Did the elderly woman across the street leave her—BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP—I looked around in shock. Nope. Maybe I should’ve been more mindful of that little squeal from little Michael down the block. My house was on fire. My house was on fire because my friends weren’t teasing me. My house was on fire because the dead were on their feet.

I panicked, and thought of all those little things I’d read over my life. Zombie apocalypse? Ha, no problem! Get a close-range weapon, your pistol from your sock drawer (you know, just in case some freak tries to steal your undergarments), aim for the head, and bring provisions. Yep, no problem! “Now,” I shouted, to nobody but the groaning dismembered messes outside my door, “Assess this situation carefully, William.” I chuckled, considering the circumstances—That was what my third-grade math teacher always said. I guess I assessed it too long. My windows shattered as the creatures burst through. I threw the nearest blunt object—A small safe disguised as a dictionary—And flung it at the closest one. Its head caved in, and it stood again. With grey matter and maroon blood leaking from its noggin. It stumbled and fell. Dead once again. I gulped, making an audible click, and shuddered at the sight. I pulled out the shovel I had pulled from my garage. My close range weapon. I proceeded to smash the heads of the remaining four beasts.

When they fell, I finished packing and decided I’d head off to loot soon. Not the most morally correct thing to do, but, hell, I had to survive. Who wouldn't be looting the nearest stores? However, I also needed to get out of there as fast as I could.

I decided I’d find food before anything. Canned foods. Jerky. Peanut butter. Things that last long, things that will make it easier. It then dawned upon me.

Shouldn’t I be freaking the hell out? I thought to myself as I entered a small, two-story general store. The storage was on the second floor.

And then the roof caved in.

Added (04.March.12, 3:19 PM)
Chapter 2

So, yes, the roof caved in. Choking on dust, I stumbled outside. Carefully, William, carefully. I understood after assessing for a moment. Old, rotting wood. Weight from all the workers cooped up upstairs. Shit, why were they up there? I ran inside and looked in the rubble. Four of the five had died in the fall. The remaining one grimaced, limping away from me. "Wait!" I shouted. He turned his head to me, and I tossed him an extra knife I had taken from my kitchen.

He mumbled something before attempting to turn around. "What?" I stopped him in his tracks with the word.

"There's a zombie behind you," He said through gritted teeth, and threw the knife at me. It brushed my ear, leaving a small cut, and impaled the creature behind me, as I turned around. The man chuckled, making me jump, and took his knife. "Always be on watch." He started limping away and I stopped him again. "Maybe it's best people stay in groups," I said. He gestured toward his dead colleagues. "If you don't mind that my old crew died, the name's Bill." He held out his free hand, and I shook it. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Bill. Short for William, right?"

Oh, the irony, I thought. The first living person I have seen since this started shares a name with me.


(oh, please, Tony, you're scaring me)
(stop it, Tony, stop it)

Stephen King's The Shining.

Message edited by Fuipui - Su, 04.March.12, 6:23 PM
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