Ayesha Member
- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 384 (0.10 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Ayesha 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Whoops on me. I'm glad you like it!
Haha yes.
I actually must have been thinking of your character name when I wrote that. *blush*
If you want it to be that way, then it's all good ;)
Do you think parents should be NPC? Or else I can change his name.
I actually must have been thinking of your character name when I wrote that. *blush*
If you want it to be that way, then it's all good ;)
Do you think parents should be NPC? Or else I can change his name.
Shawn left her in the restroom and hurried to the kitchen. He lit the lantern in there and then looked around with a critical eye. It was clean, but very bare. They did not have much. The refrigerator was a really old model. It had gone yellow with age and was cracked in many places. It still kept things cold, so he did not mind much. The appearance was rather ugly though. The stove was much the same, old model, color quite off from the way it had originally looked. One of the back burners no longer worked. He was just said that they did not have a microwave. They were nifty little machines that could reheat food in mere minutes. A few years back, it had been in all the newspapers, but the darn things were still not commercially purchasable.
So he had to get creative to reheat the hamburgers for his sister and guest. It took longer, but the end results were the same. He just hoped reheating the meat on the stove would in turn make the buns feel hot. He smiled at his handy work, putting the hamburgers on their best plates. Despite them being his best plates, they were still chipped in several places.
Shawn grabbed three glasses and filled them with cold water from the fridge. He made the table and then went to the living room, waiting for Lucinda and Robin to join him. Lucinda was soon bounding out of her bedroom, her long black braids up in a ponytail. She ran to her brother and gave him a big hug. Shawn hugged her back, giving her a good spin.
"Be on your best behavior, we have a guest."
So he had to get creative to reheat the hamburgers for his sister and guest. It took longer, but the end results were the same. He just hoped reheating the meat on the stove would in turn make the buns feel hot. He smiled at his handy work, putting the hamburgers on their best plates. Despite them being his best plates, they were still chipped in several places.
Shawn grabbed three glasses and filled them with cold water from the fridge. He made the table and then went to the living room, waiting for Lucinda and Robin to join him. Lucinda was soon bounding out of her bedroom, her long black braids up in a ponytail. She ran to her brother and gave him a big hug. Shawn hugged her back, giving her a good spin.
"Be on your best behavior, we have a guest."
Mara? Even the name sounded magical. Mayumi said it in her head a few times. Mara. Mara. Mara. It flowed very easily. She would have tried testing it out loud, but was afraid she would look really stupid. She did not want to seem stupid to the mermaid. She wanted the mermaid to think she was really intelligent, funny, and just fun to be around, qualities Mayumi admired in a person. She couldn't believe Mara was talking to her and didn't seem to want to leave. It was astonishing.
Then Mara said she was beautiful as well. Mayumi blushed and shook her head furiously. Oh no, she wasn't. She was just rather plain for a human, even for a half Japanese girl, at that. Her dark hair and dark eyes were very common among Asian girls and her skin was only tanned because of always being in the sun. She wasn't unique, not like being a magical mermaid.
"I-I am not..." She trailed off, bushed deeper and then looked down at her hands. They were shaking slightly. She was so nervous. This had to go right. She would be so distraught if something happened to make Mara hate her. "Thank you. I hope I live up to your expectations as well." She had no idea how she could. "And don't worry, you really do. Live up to mine, I mean."
Mayumi watched with wide eyes when Mara turned around onto her side, her pale, flawless skin glistening in the sun, and the scales on her tail seeming to glow. She scooted closer to Mara, until they were nearly touching, hip to where Mara's human body turned into her tail. She reached out hesitantly, her hands shaking some more and lightly put the tip of her fingers on the side of Mara's tail, the place where a human hip would be. It felt really unusual. Good unusual. It was soft, and did not feel slimy like a fish. There was warmth there, too.
She ran her hand down the length of Mara's tail, getting a little more bold, putting her whole palm down. She had been invited, after all. Right? As she touched the mermaid's tail, she looked up and sought out her eyes. She blushed. This felt awfully intimate a thing to do with someone she had just met. But the mermaid did not act like it was that big of a deal. So maybe it wasn't?
"You feel really... I mean, well..." She stuttered, fumbling around with her words. "I like the way your tail feels. It's really nice." She bit down on her lower lip and wondered if her desire to touch the mermaid's tail was mirrored in the mermaid's mind. Was she curious about human legs? So far Mara had not really glanced at her legs, so Mayumi didn't say anything, a little embarrassed at the idea.
"Are you able to be out of water long? I mean... can you breathe fine? Nobody can see us here. The only way in is through that gap," she pointed to where water came into the little oasis. "I imagine only a mermaid could get in here. I found a secret way, but to get here, it is a really dangerous climb." She smiled and pointed to the high rocks surrounding the cove.
Then Mara said she was beautiful as well. Mayumi blushed and shook her head furiously. Oh no, she wasn't. She was just rather plain for a human, even for a half Japanese girl, at that. Her dark hair and dark eyes were very common among Asian girls and her skin was only tanned because of always being in the sun. She wasn't unique, not like being a magical mermaid.
"I-I am not..." She trailed off, bushed deeper and then looked down at her hands. They were shaking slightly. She was so nervous. This had to go right. She would be so distraught if something happened to make Mara hate her. "Thank you. I hope I live up to your expectations as well." She had no idea how she could. "And don't worry, you really do. Live up to mine, I mean."
Mayumi watched with wide eyes when Mara turned around onto her side, her pale, flawless skin glistening in the sun, and the scales on her tail seeming to glow. She scooted closer to Mara, until they were nearly touching, hip to where Mara's human body turned into her tail. She reached out hesitantly, her hands shaking some more and lightly put the tip of her fingers on the side of Mara's tail, the place where a human hip would be. It felt really unusual. Good unusual. It was soft, and did not feel slimy like a fish. There was warmth there, too.
She ran her hand down the length of Mara's tail, getting a little more bold, putting her whole palm down. She had been invited, after all. Right? As she touched the mermaid's tail, she looked up and sought out her eyes. She blushed. This felt awfully intimate a thing to do with someone she had just met. But the mermaid did not act like it was that big of a deal. So maybe it wasn't?
"You feel really... I mean, well..." She stuttered, fumbling around with her words. "I like the way your tail feels. It's really nice." She bit down on her lower lip and wondered if her desire to touch the mermaid's tail was mirrored in the mermaid's mind. Was she curious about human legs? So far Mara had not really glanced at her legs, so Mayumi didn't say anything, a little embarrassed at the idea.
"Are you able to be out of water long? I mean... can you breathe fine? Nobody can see us here. The only way in is through that gap," she pointed to where water came into the little oasis. "I imagine only a mermaid could get in here. I found a secret way, but to get here, it is a really dangerous climb." She smiled and pointed to the high rocks surrounding the cove.
Posted in IC. Hope that is good ;)
"You'll be fine here," Mrs. Stevenson said. She was staring opening at Diana and Jenna, making both girls feel uncomfortable. Diana looked away from her new foster mom, soon to be adopted mom if the paperwork went through. She sighed, rubbing the back of her head. Jenna moved closer to her, holding onto her leg, looking like a white little duckling child.
"Mother never once told you we were albino, did she, Mrs. Stevenson?" Diana asked. She knew they looked different, but she wished people wouldn't stare. It was just rude. If they were curious, they could just openly talk to them, ask them questions. Things like that. But no, most people stared, or worse. Diana didn't want to think about the "worse" things some people had done to her. It was usually during class when she had to use one of her special tools to help her see the chalkboard better. Such as her glasses with the thickest lenses imaginable. Attached to them was a scope, almost like a telescope. They helped her see better, but it was not a fix-all. She still had to use a walking cane when moving around and so did her poor six year old sister.
"Please, call me Sharon," she answered. Diana couldn't tell, but it sounded like she was blushing. At least she sounded flustered. "I'm very sorry. You're right, your mother never told us."
Two months ago, Diana and Jenna's mother died from an overdose of drugs. She had hid her addiction so well, even from her children, so her death came as a huge shock. Diana was devastated that her mother had been so sick and she never noticed. Of course Jenna was too young to understand anything. All she knew was that her mommy was gone and never coming back.
After saying farewell to their mother, the siblings were sent clear across America to the smallest town imaginable with their godparents that they had never met. The town was so small, that there was only one school house for high schoolers, and another for grade and middle schoolers. Most of the people who lived there worked out of town, because there were not many job opportunities, save for the one gas station, one fast food joint, one run down movie theater, and one all purpose general store that had food and everyday things a person might need to get by.
As far as entertainment, there was only the movie theater. There had been a bowling alley, but it was shut down years ago when the owner died. The teens had a few hang out spots, but nothing Diana could ever see herself participating in. Hang out spots meant make out spots, anyway.
"There was a lot mother did not tell us. So yes, we have albinism. We're not sick. We look different and have sensitivity to the sun..."
"We can't see very good," Jenna added, happy to contribute to the conversation, though her happiness was short lived because she remembered her mother was gone.
"But it doesn't slow us down... much." Diana hugged her sister close to her. Even if Sharon and her husband Dan adopted them, and their mother had asked for them to in her will, Diana knew that she would never be able to see them as parents, and it was more likely that Jenna would come to think of her sister like a mother figure before she thought of some stranger as her mom.
"Come on in," Mr. Hanks said, waving Diana into the classroom. It felt so daunting to her. She could not see the people in the hallways too clearly, but it did seem they were staring based on their whispers. She stepped into the classroom, and using her cane, helped to find her way to the front of the room where the history teacher was standing. She did not have her glasses on; they were only used when she needed to see things more clearly, like the blackboard.
"Would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself?"
People in the class were whispering. Diana could make out blurry faces, but no details were obvious. They were staring all right. She sighed, brushed her long white hair out of her light blue eyes, and thought about what she should say. She hated doing things like this. She felt like she was in a zoo on display.
"I'm Diana, moved here from a big town. I used to work in a flour factory. There was an unfortunate explosion and I'm sure you can guess the rest."
There were a few laughs, but not really mean, more surprised, perhaps.
"Oh, I've heard all the nicknames. My favorite is Ghost, but Powder is more of a meh, if I'm honest."
Mr. Hank shook his head. Kids these days.
"Mother never once told you we were albino, did she, Mrs. Stevenson?" Diana asked. She knew they looked different, but she wished people wouldn't stare. It was just rude. If they were curious, they could just openly talk to them, ask them questions. Things like that. But no, most people stared, or worse. Diana didn't want to think about the "worse" things some people had done to her. It was usually during class when she had to use one of her special tools to help her see the chalkboard better. Such as her glasses with the thickest lenses imaginable. Attached to them was a scope, almost like a telescope. They helped her see better, but it was not a fix-all. She still had to use a walking cane when moving around and so did her poor six year old sister.
"Please, call me Sharon," she answered. Diana couldn't tell, but it sounded like she was blushing. At least she sounded flustered. "I'm very sorry. You're right, your mother never told us."
Two months ago, Diana and Jenna's mother died from an overdose of drugs. She had hid her addiction so well, even from her children, so her death came as a huge shock. Diana was devastated that her mother had been so sick and she never noticed. Of course Jenna was too young to understand anything. All she knew was that her mommy was gone and never coming back.
After saying farewell to their mother, the siblings were sent clear across America to the smallest town imaginable with their godparents that they had never met. The town was so small, that there was only one school house for high schoolers, and another for grade and middle schoolers. Most of the people who lived there worked out of town, because there were not many job opportunities, save for the one gas station, one fast food joint, one run down movie theater, and one all purpose general store that had food and everyday things a person might need to get by.
As far as entertainment, there was only the movie theater. There had been a bowling alley, but it was shut down years ago when the owner died. The teens had a few hang out spots, but nothing Diana could ever see herself participating in. Hang out spots meant make out spots, anyway.
"There was a lot mother did not tell us. So yes, we have albinism. We're not sick. We look different and have sensitivity to the sun..."
"We can't see very good," Jenna added, happy to contribute to the conversation, though her happiness was short lived because she remembered her mother was gone.
"But it doesn't slow us down... much." Diana hugged her sister close to her. Even if Sharon and her husband Dan adopted them, and their mother had asked for them to in her will, Diana knew that she would never be able to see them as parents, and it was more likely that Jenna would come to think of her sister like a mother figure before she thought of some stranger as her mom.
"Come on in," Mr. Hanks said, waving Diana into the classroom. It felt so daunting to her. She could not see the people in the hallways too clearly, but it did seem they were staring based on their whispers. She stepped into the classroom, and using her cane, helped to find her way to the front of the room where the history teacher was standing. She did not have her glasses on; they were only used when she needed to see things more clearly, like the blackboard.
"Would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself?"
People in the class were whispering. Diana could make out blurry faces, but no details were obvious. They were staring all right. She sighed, brushed her long white hair out of her light blue eyes, and thought about what she should say. She hated doing things like this. She felt like she was in a zoo on display.
"I'm Diana, moved here from a big town. I used to work in a flour factory. There was an unfortunate explosion and I'm sure you can guess the rest."
There were a few laughs, but not really mean, more surprised, perhaps.
"Oh, I've heard all the nicknames. My favorite is Ghost, but Powder is more of a meh, if I'm honest."
Mr. Hank shook his head. Kids these days.
Name: Jeremy Johnson
Nickname: Remy
Age: 21
Personality: He is all about doing his job right. He will go to any length to see someone protected, but he also knows when to hold back if it would put his life at risk. Though since the outbreak of the undead, his judgements have been off and he almost get himself killed quite a few times. He is also a very caring guy. He doesn't like to show a sensitive side (crying) because he is afraid if he does, than he will never stop.
Appearance:
Occupation before outbreak: Rookie cop at LAPD
Weapons and other supplies: Shotgun, two handguns, extra rounds, empty water bottle, a backpack for supplies, mostly empty. White tee-shirt, dirty, ripped blue jeans that look like shorts now. He's running really low on supplies at this time. No water, and just ate the last of his food. Hoping to restock soon.
Background & History: Jeremy is one of the youngest to be allowed into the police academy he works for. At 21, it is the youngest age that can qualify. He is wet behind the ears when it comes to police work. He only ever had to shoot his gun twice, but no major harm came from it. The first time was when he was wearing civilian clothing and someone came into the gas station he was staking out for reports of many robberies. He had a more seasoned partner with him. Everything happened so fast, and his partner got shot, so he had no choice but to shoot the robber. Luckily, his partner came out fine and the robber lived as well. The second time had been during a hold up at a bank robbery. He had been on the inside when everything went down. It was a pure coincidence, but he quickly patched himself into the squad, letting them know he was inside. He was ordered not to take action because he was off duty. Cops were sent to take care of the problem, but by this time the bank robber took a hostage, a small child that looked like Jeremy's sister.
He reacted when he saw the robber's finger playing around with the trigger. He will never know if the robber intended to really shoot the girl. Though the robber lived, a month after this incident, the outbreak happened. Remy came home to a seemingly normal day. When he flipped on the news, it was a bunch of crazy reports about riots, senseless killing and just things that could not be real.
It was real, all right.
Remy ended up seeing first hand how real it was when he went upstairs, catching his sweet baby sister eating his mother's face. His father and grandparents were already starting to turn. It was horrifying. He did what had to be done. He put bullets in each of their heads.
What are their personal goals relating to outbreak: Find more life, protect someone, anyone, find a safe haven
Anything else you think we should know: Nope ;)
Name: Olivia Rainer
Nickname: Liv
Age: 13
Personality: A normal girl, she's friendly, bubbly, likes boys, talks a lot, and is very independent. Since the outbreak, she has become a little more reserved, obviously.
Appearance:
Occupation before outbreak: School girl, helped around on father's farm
Weapons and other supplies: A bunch of notebooks, backpack for notebooks, not much else
Background & History: Olivia lived on a farm with her father, step mother and two step siblings. She hated her stop mom and was never nice to her. She never tried to get to know her step siblings either. She was a typical girl. Learned how to drive when she could reach the petals. Learned how to shoot a gun when she was six. She and her father would go hunting all the time. Her birth mother died while giving birth to her.
Since the outbreak, she has traveled with a group of people in a big hippie van that they found. It even has big flowers on the outside.
What are their personal goals relating to outbreak: Stay alive, not be a burden because of her young age
Anything else you think we should know: No
Nickname: Remy
Age: 21
Personality: He is all about doing his job right. He will go to any length to see someone protected, but he also knows when to hold back if it would put his life at risk. Though since the outbreak of the undead, his judgements have been off and he almost get himself killed quite a few times. He is also a very caring guy. He doesn't like to show a sensitive side (crying) because he is afraid if he does, than he will never stop.
Appearance:
Occupation before outbreak: Rookie cop at LAPD
Weapons and other supplies: Shotgun, two handguns, extra rounds, empty water bottle, a backpack for supplies, mostly empty. White tee-shirt, dirty, ripped blue jeans that look like shorts now. He's running really low on supplies at this time. No water, and just ate the last of his food. Hoping to restock soon.
Background & History: Jeremy is one of the youngest to be allowed into the police academy he works for. At 21, it is the youngest age that can qualify. He is wet behind the ears when it comes to police work. He only ever had to shoot his gun twice, but no major harm came from it. The first time was when he was wearing civilian clothing and someone came into the gas station he was staking out for reports of many robberies. He had a more seasoned partner with him. Everything happened so fast, and his partner got shot, so he had no choice but to shoot the robber. Luckily, his partner came out fine and the robber lived as well. The second time had been during a hold up at a bank robbery. He had been on the inside when everything went down. It was a pure coincidence, but he quickly patched himself into the squad, letting them know he was inside. He was ordered not to take action because he was off duty. Cops were sent to take care of the problem, but by this time the bank robber took a hostage, a small child that looked like Jeremy's sister.
He reacted when he saw the robber's finger playing around with the trigger. He will never know if the robber intended to really shoot the girl. Though the robber lived, a month after this incident, the outbreak happened. Remy came home to a seemingly normal day. When he flipped on the news, it was a bunch of crazy reports about riots, senseless killing and just things that could not be real.
It was real, all right.
Remy ended up seeing first hand how real it was when he went upstairs, catching his sweet baby sister eating his mother's face. His father and grandparents were already starting to turn. It was horrifying. He did what had to be done. He put bullets in each of their heads.
What are their personal goals relating to outbreak: Find more life, protect someone, anyone, find a safe haven
Anything else you think we should know: Nope ;)
Name: Olivia Rainer
Nickname: Liv
Age: 13
Personality: A normal girl, she's friendly, bubbly, likes boys, talks a lot, and is very independent. Since the outbreak, she has become a little more reserved, obviously.
Appearance:
Occupation before outbreak: School girl, helped around on father's farm
Weapons and other supplies: A bunch of notebooks, backpack for notebooks, not much else
Background & History: Olivia lived on a farm with her father, step mother and two step siblings. She hated her stop mom and was never nice to her. She never tried to get to know her step siblings either. She was a typical girl. Learned how to drive when she could reach the petals. Learned how to shoot a gun when she was six. She and her father would go hunting all the time. Her birth mother died while giving birth to her.
Since the outbreak, she has traveled with a group of people in a big hippie van that they found. It even has big flowers on the outside.
What are their personal goals relating to outbreak: Stay alive, not be a burden because of her young age
Anything else you think we should know: No
.
Before all this started, Remy had been a rookie cop with The LAPD, West Bureau, Pacific Division. He had only ever been on a serious case two times that involved shooting his gun. Around him, the forest was deadly silent, save for a few whistling birds that were up high in the treetops. He walked through them, looking for the town he knew was nearby.
What he had just stumbled upon reminded him of a gruesome movie; something he would never imagine seeing for real, even in his line of work. On the forest floor, lay three rotted bodies of adults and two children, a boy and a girl. The man had obviously been turned somehow. His face was distorted, nose smashed in, one ear missing and long trails of blood going down his cheeks.
On closer inspection, he realized those blood trails were deep claw marks. Had the man done it to himself or had one of his companions done it while fighting for their life? The man looked like he was in his 40s. He had a fit body, seen through the tattered and bloody clothes he wore. His skin had the sickly pale, almost green/yellow look some of the creatures took on. The bulging of his eyes would have made a man with a weak stomach puke in the bushes. Both were popped out, hanging by only a thin strand of tissue. One was half deflated, blood and ooze dripping from it.
The world has changed..
When he saw the news on the television, he hadn't believed it at first. That had been a month or so ago and somehow he was still alive. He no longer considered himself a rookie, though. He was just a freelance guy, trying to make it in a world gone mad. The blood and grime on the corpse's face almost matched the amount that clung to the cop's face.
Subconsciously, he started to pick at the blood on his skin, being reminded of how he needed to wash soon or he would attract unwanted attention.
Looking at the next body, he sighed. It was a lady. She did not look like she had turned. She was young, not much older than him. Her red hair laid around her head almost like a halo. She was nearly in perfect condition. He bent down on his knees and looked closer. What had killed her? This was when he realized she was not a redhead at all. The red he had mistaken for her hair was her blonde locks soaked through with blood. He gently nudged her to the side and sure enough she had a bullet wound in the back of her skull. The whole back of her head was completely gone, leaving a gaping hole that her mass of blood soaked curls hid.
Remy stood, checking to make sure he was still alone. The blood alone would be sure to bring danger to him soon. Confident that he was safe, he looked at the last adult. It was an aging man. He was the only body who held a gun. From the angle of his body and the way he was holding the gun, not to mention the fact that this man was missing most of his face, he had committed suicide.
After shooting his turned son, the lady who hadn't been infected and--
He looked at the children. His face fell. The girl had turned. Her eyes were wide open and black as midnight, one of the sure signs of the undead creatures. Some had blood red eyes, some had midnight black eyes. Other than her eyes, everything else on her looked normal. She had been freshly turned before the grandfather shot her down. Her skin only had a slight blueish hue to it. Blood still trickled from her gunshot wound in her forehead.
This happened recently.
He wondered if he had been quicker, would he have been able to make it in time to save this family before their infected companion turned on them. He would never know, but it would always lay heavy on his heart.
The boy was the same as the lady. Untouched, except for the gunshot to his chest. He had bled out. He could see it all in his head now. As a last resort, the grandfather felt their only escape plan would be to put a bullet in each of them. It was sad, but it happened a lot.
He crouched down next to the smallest. The little girl looked 4 or 5 years old. Placing a palm on her forehead, he closed his eyes for a short moment. He couldn't cry for her, though he wanted to. He feared if he cried, he would never be able to stop and that was no way for a cop of the pacific division to act.
"I'm sorry little one. I hope your soul can finally be free."
The infection was spreading over the nation. In the beginning when there was still media coverage, they called it a virus. Nobody knew the cause of it or who was responsible. It did the unthinkable. When someone was infected, they would die, usually in a horrible, painful way. The biggest problem was that they did not stay dead. Nobody was safe from the inevitable. The world was dying, and they would too, eventually.
Those left uninfected tried to run, hide or fight back. Officer Jeremy was a fighter.
Alone in the world, the blue-eyed man had no idea how his story would end. He wanted to believe that the calamity would stop, and the survivors could be able to move on to a virus free world.
But, so far, there had been no pots of gold at the end of any rainbows.
After leaving that scene, knowing full well that he would be in for a fight soon if he lingered, Remy ran, crouched into a low pose, with his shotgun at the ready. He didn't see any signs of the undead. He mentally crossed his fingers, hoping he could make it to the town marked on his map. He stopped running after a few yards and no sign of life or the undead. Looking around at the tall, dark imposing trees, their canopies shielding him from all light, Remy sighed.
Leaning his shotgun next to him, he pulled his map out of his pocket and fought the urge to roll his eyes. He felt like a sorry excuse for a cop. He couldn't even read a map properly. Where was this damn town? He squinted at the squiggly lines, though it was useless.
He needed to make it to this town soon. His supplies were dangerously low and he could use with a change of clothes, hopefully something that would help protect his body more than the pair of torn blue jeans he wore and ripped tee-shirt. It had once been white. Now it was red and brown from dried up blood and guts.
What he had just stumbled upon reminded him of a gruesome movie; something he would never imagine seeing for real, even in his line of work. On the forest floor, lay three rotted bodies of adults and two children, a boy and a girl. The man had obviously been turned somehow. His face was distorted, nose smashed in, one ear missing and long trails of blood going down his cheeks.
On closer inspection, he realized those blood trails were deep claw marks. Had the man done it to himself or had one of his companions done it while fighting for their life? The man looked like he was in his 40s. He had a fit body, seen through the tattered and bloody clothes he wore. His skin had the sickly pale, almost green/yellow look some of the creatures took on. The bulging of his eyes would have made a man with a weak stomach puke in the bushes. Both were popped out, hanging by only a thin strand of tissue. One was half deflated, blood and ooze dripping from it.
The world has changed..
When he saw the news on the television, he hadn't believed it at first. That had been a month or so ago and somehow he was still alive. He no longer considered himself a rookie, though. He was just a freelance guy, trying to make it in a world gone mad. The blood and grime on the corpse's face almost matched the amount that clung to the cop's face.
Subconsciously, he started to pick at the blood on his skin, being reminded of how he needed to wash soon or he would attract unwanted attention.
Looking at the next body, he sighed. It was a lady. She did not look like she had turned. She was young, not much older than him. Her red hair laid around her head almost like a halo. She was nearly in perfect condition. He bent down on his knees and looked closer. What had killed her? This was when he realized she was not a redhead at all. The red he had mistaken for her hair was her blonde locks soaked through with blood. He gently nudged her to the side and sure enough she had a bullet wound in the back of her skull. The whole back of her head was completely gone, leaving a gaping hole that her mass of blood soaked curls hid.
Remy stood, checking to make sure he was still alone. The blood alone would be sure to bring danger to him soon. Confident that he was safe, he looked at the last adult. It was an aging man. He was the only body who held a gun. From the angle of his body and the way he was holding the gun, not to mention the fact that this man was missing most of his face, he had committed suicide.
After shooting his turned son, the lady who hadn't been infected and--
He looked at the children. His face fell. The girl had turned. Her eyes were wide open and black as midnight, one of the sure signs of the undead creatures. Some had blood red eyes, some had midnight black eyes. Other than her eyes, everything else on her looked normal. She had been freshly turned before the grandfather shot her down. Her skin only had a slight blueish hue to it. Blood still trickled from her gunshot wound in her forehead.
This happened recently.
He wondered if he had been quicker, would he have been able to make it in time to save this family before their infected companion turned on them. He would never know, but it would always lay heavy on his heart.
The boy was the same as the lady. Untouched, except for the gunshot to his chest. He had bled out. He could see it all in his head now. As a last resort, the grandfather felt their only escape plan would be to put a bullet in each of them. It was sad, but it happened a lot.
He crouched down next to the smallest. The little girl looked 4 or 5 years old. Placing a palm on her forehead, he closed his eyes for a short moment. He couldn't cry for her, though he wanted to. He feared if he cried, he would never be able to stop and that was no way for a cop of the pacific division to act.
"I'm sorry little one. I hope your soul can finally be free."
The infection was spreading over the nation. In the beginning when there was still media coverage, they called it a virus. Nobody knew the cause of it or who was responsible. It did the unthinkable. When someone was infected, they would die, usually in a horrible, painful way. The biggest problem was that they did not stay dead. Nobody was safe from the inevitable. The world was dying, and they would too, eventually.
Those left uninfected tried to run, hide or fight back. Officer Jeremy was a fighter.
Alone in the world, the blue-eyed man had no idea how his story would end. He wanted to believe that the calamity would stop, and the survivors could be able to move on to a virus free world.
But, so far, there had been no pots of gold at the end of any rainbows.
After leaving that scene, knowing full well that he would be in for a fight soon if he lingered, Remy ran, crouched into a low pose, with his shotgun at the ready. He didn't see any signs of the undead. He mentally crossed his fingers, hoping he could make it to the town marked on his map. He stopped running after a few yards and no sign of life or the undead. Looking around at the tall, dark imposing trees, their canopies shielding him from all light, Remy sighed.
Leaning his shotgun next to him, he pulled his map out of his pocket and fought the urge to roll his eyes. He felt like a sorry excuse for a cop. He couldn't even read a map properly. Where was this damn town? He squinted at the squiggly lines, though it was useless.
He needed to make it to this town soon. His supplies were dangerously low and he could use with a change of clothes, hopefully something that would help protect his body more than the pair of torn blue jeans he wore and ripped tee-shirt. It had once been white. Now it was red and brown from dried up blood and guts.
© 2007-2024