Roleplayer Guild - Roleplay Forum

((I hope it's okay for me to join at this point, im pissed off i missed the start of this >.<))

Name: James Henrickson
Age: 25
Height: 5'11''
Weight: 183 pounds
Eyes: Blue
Transfer: Executive Operations (PMC)
History: Joined British infantry 18, rose to corporal age 20, became disillusioned with the government, demoted to private after insulting a minister during a troop inspection and left the army at 22. Due to his training he had very little options open that he wanted to take. Joined Executive operations 23, continued service until F.T.P.N.S. offer.
Medical: Knife wound to left hand (suffered nerve damage to thumb, but was reattached through surgery:100% Successful), age 13. Broken left wrist, nose, jaw, age 19. Gun shot wound left thigh, age 24.

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Henrickson had failed to get over the nausea he felt since he entered at the top of the building, like a black hole in his stomach. The scenes of what appeared to be a massacre inside the building had only added to that effect. But now he felt even worse. The sudden realisation that O'Donnel was missing hit him like a bullet. He had been watching Ames get a bollocking, relatively amused by the reaction of Carson when Grey's comment had put paid to that.

Henrickson had poked his head around the corner to check on Ames and O'Donnel when he heard the gunshots, but Carson's order was priority and so he walked back next to the group leader, M16 slung over his shoulder. Next thing he new, Ames shot at a corpse, missed but hit a fire extinguisher placement and was pinned to the wall getting shouted at. Now this.

Grey's weapon was aimed at Ames head and Henrickson's heart stopped. "AMES, GET DOWN NOW!" Henrickson's heart started pumping again, he raised his weapon to the patch of ceiling Grey's shotgun was aimed at. He thought as he looked he saw the shimmer of something hung off of the ceiling above Ames, but it could well have been a trick of the light.

Henrickson looked to Grey on his right, his finger tapping the side of his goggles. "What the fuck you aiming at?! I see nothing but ceiling!" His London accent accentuated in the stress of the moment. He took a quick look around, searching for any sign of a target, but saw nothing but blood stains, corpses and the occasional body part strewn across the area. He waited for something to happen, finger poised by the trigger for what seemed like an eternity.

"Shoot it in ze head," O'Donnell said impersonating Ames as he walked off shooting the things in the head to make sure they were "dead". He had taken a few minutes to calm his heart down; it felt like it was all the way in his throat. Only two other times he felt like this: His first was his first martial arts fight and his second was his first mission as a Ranger. He heard Ames continue to fire at everything he saw. “Damn bastard is going to waste all his ammo,” O’Donnell said attaching his knife to his M16 and switched the gun to burst mode.

O’Donnell finally stood up and began moving back to the security station when he heard shouting directed towards Ames for almost shooting an extinguisher. O’Donnell began to laugh but immediately fell silent. He had a feeling that he was being watched by something. He looked around but did not see anyone or anything besides a security camera.

“Just my mind playing tricks on me,” he said to himself as he slowly walked back toward the security station. He was stopped though by a sudden cold chill that seemed to move right past him towards the others. “What the fuck was that!” O’Donnell shouted as he dropped to one knee and took aim at nothing but hallway, he then realized how stupid he looked and resumed a normal stance and kept walking.

When he reached the hallway he saw the others taking aim at something, but O’Donnell noticed something to his right out of the corner of his eye but when he looked nothing was there. “Damn mind again,” he said again to himself hurrying towards the others and immediately took aim at the part of the wall where everyone else was aiming.

Ames wrestled away from Carson quickly, and looked at his “commanding” officer incredulously. Had he not only undertaken the logical action? He hadn’t exactly strayed too far out, in his opinion. And now, Carson was blowing up over almost nothing. Ames, the consummate commander, whose experience was probably ten times as much as anyone else in the entire squad (combined) felt no need to obey: instead, he saw the need to coach the obviously mis-trained Carson.

“Ze commanding officer should keep cool hea…”

"I’m heeere."

“Dieu narines!” screamed Ames in fear and surprise as the voice rang out what seemed millimeters away from his ear.

"AMES! Get down, NOW!"

He dived back towards the formation, hitting the blood-splattered floor hard, and rolled. He repeated the maneuver, and found himself flying towards Grey’s feet. As he slammed into the ground next to Grey, he twisted himself over, and, switching his MP5 back to automatic, began unloading his clip into the area he had just been.

When the bullets hit nothing but solid wall, perforating the wallpaper, he spread his fire up to the ceiling, Ceiling shingles were dislodged, and Ames kept firing until his clip was empty. As he reloaded, he rose to a kneeling position, his weapon trained on the area he had just been. Dust circulated wildly having been dislodged, but for a moment he felt certain nothing was there at all.

As Ames unloaded his MP5, Carson backpeddaled, scanning the walls and ceiling. There was nothing there. When Ame's MP5 finally stopped spitting lead, dead silence returned to the hospital. Briefly scanning the wall, Carson found no blood or any other such trace of a life form.

For a moment, as the dust and debris fell to the floor, Carson stood silent and dumbfounded, trained on the spot where Ames had stood befrore his training kicked in. What the fuck was that thing?

"Form up on the door!" he ordered. "Whatever that was, it's gone now. Ames, take up the rear and keep our asses covered."

Carson slid his keycard through the reader, and the sliding door opened, revealing three walking corpses within head-butting range. Having not encountered the surgeon in the hallway like O'Donnell, Carson held his fire, thinking the guards to be wounded survivors. It didn't take him long to catch on.

The nearest zombie didn't waste any time trying to wrap it's arms around Carson, who put a foot in it's chest, sending it faltering back into the control room.

"Back the fuck off! Hand's up!" he ordered. No response.

The other two slowly shuffled out, heading straight for Grey. Meanwhile, down the hall and around the corner, several dead nurses slowly hobbled towards the group.

“Great there’s more of these damn bastards,” O’Donnell said taking aim at one of the zombie guards. He was locked on the zombie’s head aiming right between the eyes. O’Donnell squeezed the trigger, blood and brains were soon splattered on the walls behind the zombie as it fell to the ground. O’Donnell took aim at another zombie and shot its legs out leaving it on the floor but it was still inching its way toward them.

O’Donnell heard the sound of more moaning coming from behind them.

“Shit we’re gonna be crawling in these things in a matter of minutes,” O’Donnell said keeping his sights on the guards. His finger wrapped around the trigger and was ready to squeeze if anything came to close to the group. O’Donnell waited for an open-fire or kill anything that wasn’t fucking human order.