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Post by Shogun Liquid© on Nov 27, 2008 22:54:11 GMT -5
Raccoon City University What had started out as random incidents within the University snowballed into pandemonium.
From classrooms, dormitory rooms, lockers and bathrooms, those people who had locked themselves in for a temporary haven had their fates sealed. Without supplies, they would not last long and without a plan of action, along with their pitiful stopgap barricades, they were trapped and good as dead.
Those that had the means began taking their own lives rather than being eaten alive. Along rooftops of the University or wherever they could, students were throwing themselves from the highground, the impact of their bodies against concrete causing large wacking sounds which echoed deeply in the night air. For those that resisted with the hopes of being rescued, they had their barricades pentrated, their screams painful and gruesome as the manner in which they got torn apart by living dead.
It was clear to those that understood. Either run away to survive or stay behind to get eaten.
Within the Mainbuilding, the Party earlier had become a macarbre free for all, with dozens of students consuming and eating alive their counterparts. Those fortunate few who had managed to escape, their ordeal had just begun. Unless the group did not act soon, they would be no different from the foolish ones who had locked themsleves up.[/b][/i]
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Post by Mikey on Nov 28, 2008 19:44:20 GMT -5
"A van with flames..." Mikey muttered, looking at the van in amazment. Not because it was a fine peice of atuomotive engineering or anything of that sort, but only because he didnt know one person in the freaking world who would put flames on their van.
"How about this. The longer we dilly dally, the worse off we are." Mikey said, remembering things about the creatures and their habits. He knew that they swarmed from miles around whenever they smelled fresh meat. And they were, in fact, fresh meat. "How about you go and get your van ready, and meet Sara and me over at her car. It's also advisable we only take one of them, the van preferably for its weight and size." He said, pulling his .357 from it's holster. He opened the cylinder and looked at the casings inside, seeing unused primers. He knew he just loaded it a bit ago, but he was a bit paranoid around flesh eating monsters. And when he was paranoid, he was always double or triple checking things, leaving nothing for granted or to memory.
"So, Miss Sara, which car is yours?" He asked, looking to her.
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Post by thegunny on Dec 1, 2008 21:02:04 GMT -5
OOC: Risingggggggggg......
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Post by therisingstar on Dec 3, 2008 20:31:37 GMT -5
(Sorry Mikey, Gunny--it won't happen again, promise)
“So, Miss Sara, which car is yours?”
Sara smiled faintly before tearing the smile away from her face—this wasn’t appropriate; people had died, people probably were dying, the world of Raccoon City, which had only just begun repairing itself from its last trauma, was falling victim to the chaos and destruction she had been forced to endure four years ago. It wasn’t fair, she didn’t want it, nobody wanted it, yet still… it was happening.
There was nothing anyone could do about it.
Sara nodded briskly in Mikey’s direction. “Right,” she said, “it’s…” her eyes scanned over the parking lot and caught sight of the sleek, black Volvo that was perfectly camouflaged in the night sky. A vapid sense of relief flushed over her when she noticed that it hadn’t been damaged—but then, none of the cars were. Yet. The zombies would be coming along soon; it was a shame, that such a beautiful car would be destroyed in the coming days. But then again, it was a material possession and could be bought with money; which in itself was a material possession.
Making sure not to waste any time, she rushed to the Volvo, flicking her car keys out of her pocket and swinging the car door open. She rummaged through the back seat, uncovering the weapon underneath the furry car mat covering the floor. The bulk of it felt reassuring and comforting in her grasp.
“Got it,” she murmured, jogging back to Mikey.
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Post by thegunny on Dec 3, 2008 21:23:19 GMT -5
Terry nods as Sara comes back and doesn't waste any time starting to make his way quickly towards the cars, his ruger SP-101 still out and ready. The zombies were starting to wander over towards the sounds of rapid footsteps, having heard Sara who alerted them, and now more footsteps that they were now aware enough to react to. The parking lot was packed and crowded though, making it a labyrinth, impeding both Terry and the zombies. It could be considered a two sided sword, but their living guile and agility made it a non issue--- especially when they were in a lighted area of the parking lot. Terry ignored completely with a cold-atmosphere the body droppings behind him, not looking back at all. But every smack of a body that echoed made him flinch, the memory most likely ingrained into his brain forever just by that very sound and the possibility of imagining the actual event because of it. The other two were with him, the three of them sticking close together as they smartly were able to evade any lumbering zombies and make it to his van. Terry pulls his keys out of his pocket and gestures towards its back
Get in, I'll drive. Watch your step and your head... its kind of cramped.
Terry walked along the side of the Van quietly, not mentioning it was pretty messy in there too. He wasn't the cleanest guys out there, heck, took him two weeks before he finally tossed out an old empty pizza box and its crusts once. It wasn't a toxic waste dump, though. It was still surprisingly well maintained considering he had owned it for about a decade and throughout the zombie outbreak. Terry started to try and open the Driver side door, the only thing in less then optimally-maintained condition in his opinion. As expected, it gave him some trouble. It wouldn't budge. He had to slam his elbow down hard on it, and painfully, inexplicably, but surely, it started to work and he could open it. He opened it up and started to climb up into the van, hearing the growl-like hiss coming from the other side of the door only soon enough to turn. He spun around just in time to be able to sit on the bottom of the van's floor as the door slammed up against him. His legs got hurt in by the door as they were compressed against each other rapidly in a pincer, the weight of the door and zombie thrown against him, taking a few seconds as he started to try and push the door back off of him in vain, the zombie still trying to get at him with its head bumping against the glass and its arms clawing around the sides swiping at him. Terry couldn't have gotten a shot if he tried.
F**k!
the prick had snuck up on Terry and ambushed him, but good.
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Post by Mikey on Dec 3, 2008 22:52:46 GMT -5
"Fu*k!" Mikey heard being yelled out, and he ran to the source. He already knew what had happened, and who it had happened to. He just hoped it wasnt too late.
He ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the van, getting there in time to see the zombie slamming itself against the van's door, trying to get to Terry. He could see Terry's legs hanging out of the car door, and he ran toward the van. He knew he wouldnt be able to make a perfect shot from that angle and that distance. Normally, he probably would have tried to make the shot for fear of getting close to the thing. But, given he had already been bitten, he wasnt much worried.
He came around the side of the van, got close enough to smell the rotting flesh of the zombie, and aimed. He took another step foreward, and pressed the barrel against the zombie's head. It looked over toward him, perhaps seeing an opportunity for an easier meal, but was only met with a .357 Magnum slug through the nasal cavity. It's head jerked back, and it fell from the lack of balance to its legs.
Mikey sighed and opened the door to the van, looking in at Terry and saying "Are you done fu*king around so we can go?" As he did, he looked behind him to check and see if Sara had gotten here ok. He was sure she was right on his heels when he picked up to a run.
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Post by Shogun Liquid© on Dec 4, 2008 12:32:02 GMT -5
Parking Lot Just before Sarah could catch up with them, a bright orange Mazda CX-9 SUV backed away infront of her...nearly hitting her as the Mazda crashed into another parked vehicle behind it, thus separating her from Terry and Mikey. Inside the Mazda, she could see the occupants, the driver being ravagely attacked by two zombies, the man's screaming horrible and real. He struggled to get out but there was a sudden splash of blood at the driver's window. Already dead, the driver managed to open the driver seat, letting him and the two other zombies fall out into the Parking Lot infront of Sarah.[/b][/i]
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Post by therisingstar on Dec 5, 2008 6:25:21 GMT -5
Sara had thought everything would have been alright once she had got her G-22. It was something secure; a tangible object that would, could, ensure her safety. But she had been wrong before. And she was wrong this time. Before they could all make it into Terry’s ostentatiously flame-painted van, zombies began crawling through the vehicle-congested car park.
Sara whimpered looking around, hurrying after Mikey as they began to make their way to the far corner of the parking lot, where Terry’s van was parked. But they weren’t so lucky; it wasn’t long before zombies began noticing the sources of life lurking in the car park, and Terry was the perfect victim. Without warning, a zombie attacked him, pinning a screaming Terry against the car—the upper part of his body in and the lower part out. ““F**k!”
Sara screamed, a high-pitched, shrill, disorientating sound, rushing after Mikey as he in turn rushed to Terry’s aid. Mikey was a fast runner and managed to dash towards the van, shooting the zombie twice—once in the back and again in the head—before it’s already dead body went into a motionless state. Mentally Sara breathed a sigh of relief, noting the hands that she had been holding her G-22 in were sweating profusely, the same went for her forehead. In fact, overall, she was sweating so much—more out of fear than anything else—she wouldn’t be surprised if she had turned into a glowing, white beacon.
Just get to the van and then I can sort everything else out, Sara told herself. She had so many things to do: the next biggest thing on her list of priorities was to call her mum and find out if she was alright. Still, she reminded herself as her aching legs pounded against the pavement of the parking lot, she had to get to the van first.
But almost inevitably, things didn’t turn out so easy for herself. They hadn’t in the last invasion and they sure as hell wouldn’t in this invasion. Somehow being around Mikey and Terry in the first few minutes had had her growing a skin of naïve comfort; almost deluding herself to the point that she had believed she was going to survive this. All these within the span of a few minutes: invasions tended to make people emotional.
Sara was about to reach Terry and Mikey when a flashy, orange car backed out of the parking lot, narrowly missing her, and crashing into the car behind it. Sara stiffened, too frightened to scream: obviously someone had to be driving the car… Sara looked into the car and the narrow sense of hope in her instantly diminished. Two zombies were savagely attacking a screaming, bloody man in the car; then suddenly his eyes rolled into the back of his sockets, his skin paled, he died and he got out of the car, ready to kill her. The other two zombies fell out next to the newly-turned zombie, their blood-shot eyes full of greed.
Screaming now, so much that she didn’t realise it, Sara looked for the van and realised that due to the recent collision, she had been separated from the others. A shiver ran through her and Sara backed away from the three zombies that were quickly advancing upon her. “Go… away,” she muttered. But they kept on following—of course they would keep on following. “I said GO AWAY!” she yelled, turning around and running. Dashing into the next rows of cars, Sara looked around for the van and caught sight of it. It was weird—but the red flames emblazoned by the fire (which in turn had been created by the two crashed cars) made the humble van somewhat extravagant. The flames, which had seemed trashy at first, seemed dynamically elegant; magnificent.
Hearing the groans of the zombies behind her, Sara rushed down the aisle, gliding into the next one. Then suddenly one of the zombies climbed onto a car and attempted to crash into her, narrowing her chances of escaping. However it missed her by what seemed like inches and in almost what seemed like a reflex action, Sara whacked its head with the G-22. The creature smashed into the wind-shield of a nearby car, grunting.
The other two rushed after her, and in order to get out of her way, Sara climbed onto the bonnet of the next car she came across. Her long nails slid against the bonnet, scratching the red paint of it in thin strips. A zombie latched onto her leg and Sara fell to the ground, an immense pain hitting her body as she struggled against the grip. She kicked angrily, randomly knocking a heel against the zombie’s head. It screamed into the night, dropping her leg for a swift second, allowing her to grab her weapon and painfully run towards the van.
Crying openly now, Sara desperately attempted to make a lunge towards the van, but instead, in horror, felt herself falling to the ground—there was yet again, a weight dragging down her body. And as she lay, sprawled on the parking lot, she took in the site of the decaying arm of a zombie sneaking up her leg. She couldn’t take it any longer. In absolute hysteria, she burst into tears. “SOMEONE SAVE ME!”
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Post by thegunny on Dec 5, 2008 18:37:23 GMT -5
OOC: Its gonna slide this time, but as I understand how the virus work(as Mikey has explained to me and how Googling has explained), it doesn't happen instantly. Happens over about two days.. but for now, three zombies instead of the two will work
Terry nodded grimly at Mikey, his head throbbing from how sudden everything happened and his heart pounding--- he would have noticed this had he not been pumped up on adrenaline from the brief but at least to him, dramatic struggle that the van's driver side door played a leading role in. When Terry finally shove the Van door wide open so he could stand up, shoving the dead zombie's body aside as well, everything over near Sara happened in a blurry rapid succession of events. He stared dumbly at everything happening for a moment before he finally saw the zombies coming out. In shock, he kept staring for a few moments before they started after her--- then he raised his pistol and started firing. He fired a quick 2 shots of .327 Magnum, expecting Sara to shoot them as well, but instead it had become a chase. Terry got into gear and shouted at Mikey
Come on!
He quickly started to sprint from the Van towards the scene, his SP-101 ready and only half loaded.
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Post by Mikey on Dec 8, 2008 20:25:09 GMT -5
Mikey silently cursed at himself for leaving Sara behind. He could have swore she was right behind him. And now she was halfway accross the parking lot being attacked by three different zombies. He ran after Terry with a newfound haste, intent on saving Sara.
Weaving in and out of cars, he passed the wrecked van that had cut her off from them and saw her off in the distance, on her stomach and the zombies closing distance. He had no issues with fireing now. She was below his line of fire. He fired off two shots, leaving four in his revolver. The first round connected with one of the zombie's chests, and the other went wide and hit the back window of a truck. He kept running, hoping to get the attention of the zombies. But, the one crawling behind Sara was intent on her.
He finally closed the distance, a bit before Terry somehow, and lashed at the zombie on Sara. His steel toed boot connected with the zombies face, and it lost grip on Sara and fell to the side where it tried to get back up. Mikey aimed the revolver for a small second and executed the zombie at close range.
He felt the beating of his heart, as well as heard it in his ears. He felt the apathy enter his mind, and stood stupidly trying to figure out what to do. He had to stop for a moment in the hopes that it would slow down, and it did in a manner. He could no longer hear it, but he felt it like it was trying to exit his chest. But still, his mind refused to come back to the here and now. The other two started to close the distance, and he stood with his weapon at the side, lost in his own thoats.
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Post by thegunny on Dec 8, 2008 21:19:45 GMT -5
Terry quickly followed up behind Mikey, lagging a bit behind, getting there right as Mikey handled the closest one that was already getting at Sara. Terry hung back a little, starting to aim as he did so. If he hadn't gone through this all once before, first in Pine hollows, again throughout the years following it up till 4 years ago, he would have just been standing there stupidly shaking as he tried to aim--- this s**t was that unbelievable, even though it'd happened before already. He only had 2 rounds left after having already fired 4, and that didn't amount to much. He was indeed shaking a little, and the second it took for him to regain his composure seemed like too long a time, but soon he had gotten into his shooter-zone and had eased the shaking to manageable levels. By how Mikey was acting, Terry imagined they were completely out of ammo---or he was just completely out of it. Terry didn't carry reloads for his concealed carry pistol on a day to day basis, and definitely not during a party day. Terry aimed, fired, and made a quick near instant follow up shot, one bullet slamming into the front of his head, penetrating through its nose and into its brain, the other zipping through its hair and barely skimming its scalp because of the recoil.
Assuming Mikey had no more ammunition loaded, as it seemed to Terry, they had one option left. Terry snapped out of his shooters-zone, losing what ever discipline he had, and reached to half-drag Sara towards the van and half help her up to get her started in that direction, while yelling in a frenzied-tone
RUN TO THE VAN!
He was starting to shake a little more again. The outburst of self control gained by falling into one of his two comfort zones, hunting and shooting, had passed.
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Post by thegunny on Dec 15, 2008 9:07:26 GMT -5
Bump.
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Post by Mikey on Dec 15, 2008 20:23:56 GMT -5
(Sorry Rising.)
Mikey continued standing there, slightly swaying as he stared off into space. He was aware of all that was going on, of the rotten figures making their way toward him, but he couldnt bring his body to do anything about it. The figures got closer and closer, one of them even outstretching a bloody hand and grabbing onto his shoulder.
As if that was what he was waiting for, the antropy dissapered and his muscles reacted. In the panic of the moment, seeing it get closer and not being able to do anything about it, his legs stepped backwards as if on their own. From lack of balance, he tripped and landed roughly to his back.
The zombies continued to advance, and Mikey aimed his gun. He fired once, the shot missing comepletely and going up in the sky. He cursed and grabbed his wrist with his other hand to steady his shot. Aiming more carefully, he fired once and saw the blood spatter out the back of the zombies head. It fell to the ground, and Mikey did the same to the other. Again, blood spurted from its head and it fell.
He aimed once more, a perfect shot, and pulled the trigger. a dry click erupted from the gun, and Mikey yelled out "FU*K!" before he crawled back a bit. Turning on his stomach, he got his legs underneath him and ran without balance. Tipping to the right, he corrected himself enough to crash into the back of a parked car and hold on to avoid falling. Correcting himself enough to run properly, he made a beeline for the van.
"Open the door!" He yelled as he made his way to the van. It popped open, and he jumped inside. Slamming it closed and locking it, he looked over to Terry with a tired face. "Go, man, go!" He said.
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Post by therisingstar on Dec 17, 2008 18:16:54 GMT -5
(So I’m guessing Sara’s in the van?)
Sara banged her head against the back seat of the van, breath rushing in and out of her lungs at an increasing rate. In the dizziness of her situation she couldn’t recount the happenings of the past few minutes—it was as if her entire body had gone into some sort of shock; in fact it had. Parts of her body were going numb and her arm was aching.
For a split second, the memory of the three zombies surrounding her clamoured her mind, a fear of infection froze her and she mumbled, falling against the seat. Her waists burned; the feeling of Terry’s fingers still strong as she swivelled around in her seat in order to get a view of what was going on outside. Leaning out to the front of the van, she was just in time to see Mikey, swearing, leap into the van. “Go, man, go!” he screamed.
And then Sara came to reality.
Her mind cleared, she became calmer—but with the knowledge of their predicament, she became even more fearful. The engines came to life, rumbling beneath her and Sara fell back down against the back of a van with a scream. As she thumped to the matted ground, she heard a crash and, in horror, realised she had broken her mobile phone.
The sleek little gadget lay on the van’s floor, a large crack destroying the flawless glass screen. Swearing under her breath, Sara realised she had just broken the connection she had to the outside world, to her family—now she was all for her own. Except she had Mikey and Terry with her. They had saved her and she was so grateful about that words weren't able to describe how she was feeling.
Or maybe they could: “Thanks”, she mumbled leaning out to the front of the van. She crouched between Mikey and Terry (who was driving) and empathised with the obvious shock on both of their faces—their first call had been a close one, only worse situations were bound to turn up. With her throat dry and her jaw issuing a dull pain, Sara spoke up again. “So where are we going?” she asked, noting the breathy tone her voice had taken.
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Post by thegunny on Dec 17, 2008 22:39:00 GMT -5
Terry sat quietly in his seat, trying to get the van to work with him as he fired it up. Turning on the van was an art, and after a brief sputter that for a second made it seem hopeless, the van roared to life and Terry started pulling out of the parking lot with a screech. He didn't have his trailer hitched to the back of the van, so he was able to do that without worries. His hands had been shaking while he coerced his van to work, and he snapped back at Mikey as he started to pull out
I am d**nit I am!
As Terry turned out of the parking lot, hard, the baggages in racks crowding the overhead threatened to fall down on them as they rocked back and forth, but stayed mostly in place despite the maneuver. The pizza and take out boxes stacked up on top of the safe on top of the fridge did fall over, however, and the other rubbish that typically is scattered on the floor of a guy's apartment shifted places. Terry never cleaned this place up unless he had to take it with him for work and would be expecting company, but the last few trips hadn't required him to bring his van; the customers hadn't paid the extra money for it, so the manager hadn't told him to clean it. When Sara asked, he quickly said
I hadn't filled the tank up in a while. We're heading to the University gas station... no questions asked... then we probably should head to the self storage facility near the docks. Thats where my trailer and the rest of my stuff is... I don't have all of my stuff, if we wanna be able to defend ourselves, trust me, we wanna get into that trailer and my storage unit...
Not to mention they could probably scavenge some stuff from there... depending on how the owner was, the probably could get some food or a place to stay for a few days to conserve gas too. Terry was silently glad that he always kept his valuables in the van; the family heirloom, an old Jager rifle, had been lost long ago back in Oregon years ago, but he had the old family Signet ring that traced back to their German roots in Bavaria. So the trailer and storage unit was only a pragmatic goal; if they wanted to survive for long, that would be the best place to head after they got some gas. Terry after a moment, remembered and yelled back
Hey! Mikey! Run through my bags, my range bag has my ol Anaconda in it!
He was still shaking a little behind the wheel, but he was in control of himself as he navigated the campus streets. The scenes of anarchy flashed by as he sped by well over the speed limit.
(Terry Parker and company are now in the Dormitories)
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