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Post by Doc Holliday on Dec 3, 2008 21:15:21 GMT -5
He decided to play with his foes minds for a minute. He walked over to an old boombox, and pushed play. The batteries in it were old, but it still worked. A slow, foreboding opera song began to play, and he sat to enjoy it. He swayed his head left to right as it played, turning the volume up to full.
Starting to get a feel for the words, he began to sing along, his scratched and torn Russian voice becoming a deep, raspy sing-along voice. It made the opera song complete, he thought.
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Post by Metal Head on Dec 3, 2008 21:18:13 GMT -5
“Alright, we’ll do the classic leapfrog maneuver. You move forward, out the door and down the hallway while I give you cover. You’ll tell me when you’ve got the other entrance clear, and I’ll move up, then we’ll just get to the staircase. Remember, use you’re .45, and it doesn’t matter if you hit him in the vest, or in the head. That vest looks like a standard beat cop one, and it’s only intended for 9mm rounds. Surprising he’s made it this long,” My gun was still trained on the doorway across the hall, and when I saw movement, I opened fire, sending a quick three round burst straight through the barricade and into the room. The 7.62 would make quick work of that vest, as would any weapon actually.
While Jeremy moved forward, I watched the barricade. When he was out the door, I only had to wait until he had his .45 trained on the barricade before I myself would move. Hopefully, we’d get out of this quickly, and without too many undead. Of course, the psychopath would have the same problems with the undead as us, and he’d also have to move if he wanted to live, especially since his barricade was little less than derelict furniture.
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Post by deusexhominis on Dec 3, 2008 21:30:30 GMT -5
Jeremy moved carefully into the hallway, eyeing the barricade warily. He looked his gun up and down, finding the safety and making sure it was off. He trained it at the barricade, taking a few short steps forwards. Suddenly it came. The howling of ghouls nearby. He cursed, moving towards the barricade faster. Jeremy knew he only had a few moments to clear the barricade. The eerie symphony of the opera played by the radio rang out through the hallway. He reached the barricade, and moved to the side farthest from the door leading into the room where the man waited for him and his partner. He moved quickly past the door in a single stride, making sure that he didn't give the man time to take any action. He moved forwards, the stairs on the other side of the hallway in plain site. He smiled, stepping forwards, just in time to see two of the ghouls make their way through the entrance. Their wails matched the opera for 'freakiness', echoing down the hallway. "Oh damn it! Here they come." he lifted the gun and took aim, firing two shots. The first ghoul fell, a shot through it's skull, and the second stumbled and fell, a shot through its knee, trashing all about. He took aim again. Another shot rang through the hallway. The ghoul stopped thrashing. He cocked his gun. Jeremy put his back to the wall behind him so he could keep an eye on both the strange man's room door and the hallway ahead of him. 28 bullets left.
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Post by Doc Holliday on Dec 3, 2008 21:39:31 GMT -5
Butcher Brash heard the shots over the opera, and walked outside. Seeing the man dispose of the two zombies, he looked and saw a third coming at him when he had turned to look behind him. He threw one of his knives full force and hit the zombie over the man's shoulder. He then ceased all movement, and snapped to a salute. He held it, waiting for the man to return it. The homemade drugs he had made had brought him to a certain level of calm, and he was just immensely bored now, and not hungry enough for a full meal. He wanted to see if he could catch the men later in a trap.
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Post by deusexhominis on Dec 3, 2008 21:53:15 GMT -5
Zachary stopped, his gun leveled at the man's forehead. His eyebrows went up. Had this man just saluted him? He didn't know what to do. The man, covered in blood, who had just thrown a knife two inches above his shoulder was saluting? Well, no reason to make the man upset by not responding. Keeping the barrel of his gun leveled at the man, he lifted one arm in a salute, then lowered it again, returning to gripping the gun with both hands. "I'm only gonna ask once. What's your name? And what are you doing here?" Jeremy looked past the man before him and locked eyes with his partner, raising his eyebrows in a 'search me' kind of look. He wasn't sure who this man was, but for now, he didn't seem a threat. No reason to shoot if the man wasn't threataning him personally.
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Post by Metal Head on Dec 3, 2008 22:26:17 GMT -5
(OOC: Isn't your name Jeremy?)
"No way, you ain't gonna get all nice with us now buddy," I spoke with obvious Authority, as I walked through the doorway that I’d been crouched in, my HK still trained at the mans body.
Slowly, I moved down the hallway, keeping Jeremy at my side with my HK still drawn until I reached the stairwell door. Popping it open with one hand, I kept my other on the rifle and then slipped into the stairwell with Jeremy, securing the door behind us before heading up the staircase.
“I don’t care what you do, but this is where we separate kid, watch out for that goon,” With a nod, I continued up the stairs, heading straight to the top floor.
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Post by deusexhominis on Dec 3, 2008 23:15:28 GMT -5
Jeremy stood for a moment and thought. What to do now? He was pretty sure that this man couldn't possbily survive this deathtrap alone, especially higher up, where more people had been. He thought back to when he and his father had been working with the people left ont he earth to clean up the ghouls and the mess that umbrella had made. He had made a commitment then to help everyone that he could. Why not stick with the guy a little longer? If he could help in any way, then he felt like it was his duty to do so. Without further pause he turned and rushed up the stairs, after the man. When he reached him, still climbing the stairs towards the top floor, he spoke. "Hey! Hey wait! I'm coming with you." He stopped for a moment at the top of the stairs ahead of the man. "I figure, if I can help anyone, I should. So I'm coming."
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Post by Metal Head on Dec 3, 2008 23:23:13 GMT -5
“What ever kid, expect a bullet to the brain if you get bit though, understood?” Without waiting for a response, I continued past him straight to the top floor, this time without any interruptions. By the time I’d reached the top floor, I was completely exhausted, and decided to take a break. Resting on the stairs, I reached into one of my pouches and pulled out a small baggie with some green stuff in it.
Taking another reach into a separate pouch, I produced a small carboar slip full of Zig-Zag papers. Within the matter of a minute I had the green rolled into the papers and pulled out my Zippo lighter. Taking a few quick hits of it calmed me down and my breathing slowed. I wasn’t doing it to get high, oh no, I was doing it to calm my nerves, because what was about to come was certainly going to be tough.
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Post by Doc Holliday on Dec 4, 2008 0:28:51 GMT -5
Before he left, Brash snapped out of his salute. "A madman....bid you the mercy to keep your life, American. If I wanted to, i could have killed you." He turned and walked away towards his room. "Remember....to stop by for a visit before you go....." He yelled down the hallway to the man who had returned his salute. Then, he went inside to his apartment.
He sat down on his chair, waiting for the dead to come. Waiting for glorious combat.
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Post by deusexhominis on Dec 4, 2008 18:41:48 GMT -5
Jeremy nodded. He would've asked him to anyway....he refused to become one of those things, no matter what. With renewed vigor he cocked his gun, following his companion up the staircase to the top floor, where he had stopped on a stair to rest, and begun smoking (yes I know what he's smoking lol). Jeremy wrinkled up his nose. He didn't exactly approve. Still, it certainly was a method of 'calming down' as it were, and they would certainly need as much calm as possible for the trail ahead. Those things still hadn't shown up in full force yet, and that meant that they were hiding somewhere. He almost would have preferred that they were out in the open, or had come already, just to spare them the suspense. Jeremy sat on the step next to the man. "Hey, since we're working together, I feel like I should know your name. After all you know mine; what do ya say?" Jeremy sat back, resting his legs. It would be time to move soon, and was sure he would need all the rest that he could get.
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Post by Metal Head on Dec 4, 2008 19:45:22 GMT -5
“You can call me First Lieutenant Dupois, or just Dupois, whatever,” I took my last hit from the smoke and flicked it to the stair below me before stopping it out for good. Brushing my hand on my leg, I got up to my feet, much less tired than before, and cautiously moved to the door with my HK shouldered.
Peering inside, I spotted two slouching forms down the darkened hallway, pulling down my NVG’s revealed that they were in fact the undead, so I popped open the door, and just as they turned and looked at me, I fired two rounds, one into each of their skulls killing them permanently.
With the hallway now secured, I speed walked inside and down to the centre of the hallway where the two zombies had been standing. Taking a step back from the nearest door, I gave it a hard kick busting the lock as I had earlier, and quickly cleared the entire apartment.
“Look around for a red manilla envelope, if you find it, don’t open it,” I instructed Jeremy before rifling through the barrage of papers that seemed to occupy every flat surface in the apartment.
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Post by Shogun Liquid© on Dec 4, 2008 21:00:00 GMT -5
Beneath Brash's Body Armor A mild pain began to spread along Brash's chest area.
The force of the bullets which had struck his body armor earlier had catched up with him. If he looked behind his vest and clothing now, he could see his chest area envolped in small purplish circles, signifying some broken ribs. The pain was becoming a bit more strained and began limiting his movements.[/i][/color] Above the Ceiling in the Room [/center] It's patience was rewarded. No longer would it feel any hunger.
The Licker which had been tracking down Jeremy earlier sprung down from the ceiling room which Duplois and Jeremy were, and lunged its claws at Duplois as it fell, its claw meant for his head but at the last second, its prey ducked and instead, the Licker's claw sliced the HK in half. Disappointed but nevertheless hungry as it landed on the floor, the mutant being used its long tongue to make up the failed attack.[/b][/i]
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Osamu
Alive
Monochrome
Posts: 13
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Post by Osamu on Dec 5, 2008 9:45:31 GMT -5
Sullen eyes narrowed inward towards a nondescript metallic door while Osamu’s snakelike finger dug into the confines of his lab coat pockets to remove a small set of rusty key, each of them firmly secured to an equally dilapidated key ring. Without hesitation, he sorted through the keys with his index finger until the appropriate one was selected and subsequently inserted into the keyhole below the doorknob. A click greeted his ears while he turned the key, and a large bar which was placed across the steel rectangle dropped to the floor. Nothing was impeding his path now.
He pressed inward, allowing the door to slowly creak ajar and give way to a scene of another stairwell which lead both downwards and upwards; it harbored no apparent zombies or any other creatures, possibly due to the walkways isolated location away from the majority of the infestation within the building. “Almost..” His voice remained little more than a whisper, and he reached upwards to secure the hardy gasmask over his pale face. Across his back, strapped effectively to the whole of his body was a large Umbrella Incinerator Unit, a flamethrower labeled appropriately with the Umbrella insignia. The weapon was large and encumbersome, though the hellfire which spewed from its nozzle was deadly, and was fueled from a variant of rocket fuel which was designed by Umbrella itself.
The swishing of the fuel was apparent and Osamu lumbered down the stairs until eventually reaching a flat cement floor on the first level of the apartment. Grunting, he allowed the monolithic flamethrower to remain idle upon his back while he searched through the key rings once again before unlocking the door before him. Rearing back, he kicked it open with his foot while still maintaining a sense of balance; and with a deep breath, he reach back and gripped the ignition trigger of his weapon tightly, and brought out the gun of the contraption before him, anticipating any attack which could present itself to him.
“……S.. Ente… ing apartment” Time seemed to slow while a gentle buzzing noise filled the silent air coupled with the sound of voices emitting from some sort of radios. They were slightly obscured by static, and the speech, though still decipherable was wholly broken apart. Then, a sound which he had wished saved him earlier hit his earshot and he finally recognized where the voices were being birthed from. “This is Captain. Henderson of team gamma. I am entering the back of the complex now.”
No longer muffled from radiowave interference, Osamu heard this voice clearly from the individual himself, and to his knowledge he was right around the corner. Abruptly while standing within the half ajar doorway, listening to the soundwaves of apparent soldiers, the door before him was viciously opened forcefully, and a gun was raised to his face. “Remove your mask!” He watched while his hand simultaneously wandered upwards to remove the gas mask from his face; a man stood before him, clad in grey and black fatigues with yet another filtration system covering his face. Yes, he was right. It was the UBSC.
“I am Dr. Nakamura, lead researcher and executive of the Atlantic Disposal Facility, area 497!” Adrenaline surged through his veins while he quickly removed his former I.D. card and displayed it to the seasoned soldier of Umbrella. Without a word, the soldier nodded and spoke into his walkie talkie. “We’ve found him, now escorting him out of the building. Meet at the entrance location.” Impersonal and quick, the man’s arm darted forward and ensnared Osamu’s while he lead him outwards from the stairwell and into the entrance of the large apartment building. Above him, upon the roof, the pitter patter of loud helicopter blades generating wind now entered the area. “There is our ride. Come on sir.” The soldier spoke more personally to him now, and recognized Osamu’s higher rank within the corporation. “We are now extracting the doctor, we’ll be up soon.” With a final sentence into his radio, both Osamu and the Umbrella soldier walked their way towards a set of stairs and began to attempt their journey to the roof.
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Post by Metal Head on Dec 7, 2008 20:16:16 GMT -5
With a loud grunt, I just managed to duck underneath the licker that had dove for my face. As I spun around with my HK shouldered to light up the licker, I grimly realized that my HK had been sliced cleanly in half and quickly whipped the damn thing at the licker in front of me. The butt of the rifle nailed the licker in the face and shook it up a little giving me enough time to reach for my knife and sidearm.
From prior experience, I knew that Lickers were almost resistant to bullets, but like most Kevlar vests was very susceptible to knives, so instantly lunged at it with my knife, jabbing the strong blade into the mutant’s throat, killing it while I tackled it to the ground. Forcing the mangled corpse off me, I got my feet and brushed myself off.
“F*ck that was close,” I grunted and picked up my cleanly cut HK from the floor, giving it a quick once over before tossing it beside the dead licker, and got back to searching for the papers.
After opening up a drawer in the one desk in the corner of the room, I found the red envelope and pulled it out. Opening my vest and shirt, I stashed it inside and then turned for the door.
Without much more than a word, I left the building via the stairway, ready to accept my payment for a job well done, and maybe grab myself a new HK.
(Kyle Dupois has left the area)
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Post by Doc Holliday on Dec 20, 2008 5:11:52 GMT -5
Butcher Brash walked around the halls, looking for someone, anyone. He was bored out of his mind, and needed something to get his mind off of his chest pain. "For Mother Russia!" He yelled, slamming his hammer against the wall, breaking out a small part.
"Oh...mad man bid you mercy...for Shakespeare was a coward and always will be for his violent poetry of Romeo and Julie....making men like me think so much as to lose all sense.....all sense of sanity...." He spoke in somewhat of a mumbling voice, complete nonsense and in a heavy Russian accent.
"Oh, a tangled weaved web. Photography is a good thing, it keeps all memories you would love to forget....." He walked around still mumbling, still insane, and breathing heavily through his gas mask. His hammer hanging by his side. He decided to grab the throwing knife he had hit the zombie with while helping the man. He began twirling it.
"Ewww...The Ballet!!" He spun it, laughing and feeling pain from his ribs. Then he put the knife away and continued walking around the halls.
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