"Yeah I hope so too..." Said Minsu nervously, following Celeste. As he passed a shelf, he quickly grabbed latex gloves and a mouth mask, opening the packages and handing some to both girls. "The disease must have mutated somehow, so who knows how it's even spread. We should wear these just in case."
They finally exited the pharmacy and for the first time, Minsu noticed how odd everything looked. It did not yet look like the post-apocalyptic zombie ridden world he had seen in movies; it was just quiet. And empty. Except for the faraway screams that occasionally chimed in, like demented songs in the evening sky.
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Minsu ducked behind a rack of merchandise and yelped. How had his kindly boss, the lovable Mr. Tate, transformed into some hideous creature? "Guess my next paycheck isn't coming any time soon..." He muttered. Suddenly, he noticed another girl standing near the door. Was she a zombie too? No, she looked normal. He sighed in relief.
Minsu looked at Celeste. "He's probably dead now... or at least unconscious... You're right. We should get going. We can head to my car, it has some weapons and it's probably safer right now." He motioned to the other girl. "Are you coming too?"
Minsu looked at Celeste. "He's probably dead now... or at least unconscious... You're right. We should get going. We can head to my car, it has some weapons and it's probably safer right now." He motioned to the other girl. "Are you coming too?"
Minsu listened to the girl speak. Suddenly, everything made sense- the worried people, the odd emptiness outside. It was far-fetched, but he believed her.
He let out a nervous chuckle. "My boss would kill me for this, but..." He unlocked the back door, revealing a closet full of spare medical supplies. "This is where we keep the heavy-duty stuff." He grabbed several first-aid kits and stuffed them into a large backpack. "Speaking of my boss, he should be here by now to lock up. I wonder where he is, he usually isn't late..."
Just as he spoke, the boss walked out of the supply closet, concealed in shadows. Or at least- what used to be the boss. His skin was pale and greenish, his eyes sunken and veins bulging. Blood trickled from his teeth.
He let out a nervous chuckle. "My boss would kill me for this, but..." He unlocked the back door, revealing a closet full of spare medical supplies. "This is where we keep the heavy-duty stuff." He grabbed several first-aid kits and stuffed them into a large backpack. "Speaking of my boss, he should be here by now to lock up. I wonder where he is, he usually isn't late..."
Just as he spoke, the boss walked out of the supply closet, concealed in shadows. Or at least- what used to be the boss. His skin was pale and greenish, his eyes sunken and veins bulging. Blood trickled from his teeth.
Glancing up from his drink, Minsu's eyes widened as he noticed a girl who seemed to be... robbing the store? She looked crazed and even traumatized. His first instinct was to lunge at her, but he noticed the large axe in her hand. Instantly, he let out a shriek.
"What are you doing?!?" He yelled, backing up against the wall and breaking out in a cold sweat.
"What are you doing?!?" He yelled, backing up against the wall and breaking out in a cold sweat.
Minsu checked his designer watch yet again. 4:50 PM. Only ten more minutes until he was free from his job at the local pharmacy. The store had been unusually busy all day; worried parents buying face masks, gloves, and medicine. Minsu, too shy to ask, was unable to figure out why so many people were going crazy. Had the flu been going around lately? He wasn't sure. Drumming his slim fingers on the counter, he reached for his bottle of water.
"Maybe I should try to find out what's going on after work ends, huh."
"Maybe I should try to find out what's going on after work ends, huh."
Name: Minsu Tae
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Personality: Comes off as cold to others, and will prioritize what needs to be done over small talk or making friends. Can take the role of a leader, but has a hard time admitting when he's wrong. He cares for others and will try to protect them as well. He's not very talkative, and ultimately is quite shy.
Bio: Minsu just recently moved to the town. He is independent from his parents, working whatever job he comes across to support himself. He never lives in one place for too long, but just happened to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. He enjoys fashion and geography; one of his pastimes is analyzing and memorizing maps. As a result, he knows the entire map of Cherryville by heart. He also likes retro technology (he's never seen without his Walkman) and several sports like hockey and golf. Additionally, he works at the pharmacy as a cashier, and lives near it.
Skills: Good running stamina and speed, knowledge of maps, knows a bit about medicine.
Weapons: A hockey stick and several golf clubs located in his car.
Job: Pharmacy cashier
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Personality: Comes off as cold to others, and will prioritize what needs to be done over small talk or making friends. Can take the role of a leader, but has a hard time admitting when he's wrong. He cares for others and will try to protect them as well. He's not very talkative, and ultimately is quite shy.
Bio: Minsu just recently moved to the town. He is independent from his parents, working whatever job he comes across to support himself. He never lives in one place for too long, but just happened to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. He enjoys fashion and geography; one of his pastimes is analyzing and memorizing maps. As a result, he knows the entire map of Cherryville by heart. He also likes retro technology (he's never seen without his Walkman) and several sports like hockey and golf. Additionally, he works at the pharmacy as a cashier, and lives near it.
Skills: Good running stamina and speed, knowledge of maps, knows a bit about medicine.
Weapons: A hockey stick and several golf clubs located in his car.
Job: Pharmacy cashier
My school year just ended today. \w/
The girl hesitantly opened the door to her room, weapon in hand. She realized that something was not right; there were others around, and they might be dangerous. She didn't want to fight anyone, but still gripped her sword tightly, adrenaline pulsing through her veins. As she walked, she saw a steel door that was crumpled to the ground.
Someone has been here recently.
Contemplating whether to enter the room, she eventually decided to pass. If someone had entered- or exited- by force, it was probably dangerous. Peering down a long corridor, she spotted a frightening ...man? Beast? Although humanoid, his lean frame and long hair looked like they belonged to something else. She stood silently, watching him walk away, unsure of what to do.
Someone has been here recently.
Contemplating whether to enter the room, she eventually decided to pass. If someone had entered- or exited- by force, it was probably dangerous. Peering down a long corridor, she spotted a frightening ...man? Beast? Although humanoid, his lean frame and long hair looked like they belonged to something else. She stood silently, watching him walk away, unsure of what to do.
The further I walked into the forest, the more my fear seemed to melt away. The fear, having left quite a large hole in my psyche, was quickly replaced by the dubious feeling of complete and utter dread. As if I was consenting to walk leisurely towards my own death. As if I was pulled there, by some otherworldly force. The crunching noise still persisted. It grew louder and louder, until, within the blink of an eye, it stopped. Completely. Everything stopped; but I could not stop walking. I could not stop walking when I heard a child pleading for their life and I could not stop when I heard the sickening crunch of bones, because I knew they were not real. Or, at least, not as real as the punishment if I stopped.
Finally, I saw the mansion. It could have been beautiful, but it looked sick and empty- Even the light emanating off it seemed eerie and vile. At least the screams had subsided. Then, I saw the woman. She looked skeletal, inhuman, but at the same time, very amused at my presence. I approached her, footsteps uncertain. I knew that I must now be silent, which wasn't too hard, given the fact that my tongue seemed to have retreated to the back of my throat and my teeth chattered like rattling shackles.
"What story will you tell me?"
A sharp intake of breath. "My story goes like this: A man lived in the poorest area of a poor city. The man, with his greasy hair, pallid skin, and sinister smile made his living as a doctor. His patients were the poorest of the poor, the type who only came to see him because the blood they had been coughing up for months had begun to come up with organs, too. And even then, they payed not with money-as they had none- but with themselves. The doctor took sadistic pleasure in saving the patient from near death, and yet, taking away what gave them life."
"He fixed them up with precise stitches and shiny casts, and in exchange, he would cut out their eyeballs and bend backward their knees. He would replace their faces with crude masks and, if he was up to it, chop off their toes slowly and deliberately. Whatever experiment he could devise, he would make a reality. He and his army of maimed men eventually left the city, after he had had his fun with every person poor enough to seek him out.
The doctor could no longer satisfy his blood lust by operating on others. And so, one day, he took the bonesaw to himself, gradually replacing his arms and legs with other parts, until he was no longer recognizable as a human. No longer capable of thought, reasoning, and long past the point of empathy, he and his posse finally fell prey to their animalistic nature, and with their sharpened teeth-"
With a wave of her hand, the woman passively spoke. “That’s enough. Go inside.”
Shaking, I entered.
Finally, I saw the mansion. It could have been beautiful, but it looked sick and empty- Even the light emanating off it seemed eerie and vile. At least the screams had subsided. Then, I saw the woman. She looked skeletal, inhuman, but at the same time, very amused at my presence. I approached her, footsteps uncertain. I knew that I must now be silent, which wasn't too hard, given the fact that my tongue seemed to have retreated to the back of my throat and my teeth chattered like rattling shackles.
"What story will you tell me?"
A sharp intake of breath. "My story goes like this: A man lived in the poorest area of a poor city. The man, with his greasy hair, pallid skin, and sinister smile made his living as a doctor. His patients were the poorest of the poor, the type who only came to see him because the blood they had been coughing up for months had begun to come up with organs, too. And even then, they payed not with money-as they had none- but with themselves. The doctor took sadistic pleasure in saving the patient from near death, and yet, taking away what gave them life."
"He fixed them up with precise stitches and shiny casts, and in exchange, he would cut out their eyeballs and bend backward their knees. He would replace their faces with crude masks and, if he was up to it, chop off their toes slowly and deliberately. Whatever experiment he could devise, he would make a reality. He and his army of maimed men eventually left the city, after he had had his fun with every person poor enough to seek him out.
The doctor could no longer satisfy his blood lust by operating on others. And so, one day, he took the bonesaw to himself, gradually replacing his arms and legs with other parts, until he was no longer recognizable as a human. No longer capable of thought, reasoning, and long past the point of empathy, he and his posse finally fell prey to their animalistic nature, and with their sharpened teeth-"
With a wave of her hand, the woman passively spoke. “That’s enough. Go inside.”
Shaking, I entered.
what is this feeling?
I'm on something... soft...
lacy...
or is that my name?
Who am I?
The young girl rose from her bed. Her hands grasped wildly for support, but realized she was on a sterile, metal cot and the soft thing was actually someone's hair, and the hair was not actually attached to a body, as several decapitated heads lay strewn across the tile floor. The girl flinched. And yet, her surroundings looked familiar, as if she had already woken up to this before. Her hands shakily reached up to her cheeks, and felt dried tears. Her eyes felt sore; she must have cried recently. Her hands, retracting from her pale face, came into view.
And they were covered in blood.
Screeching, the young girl recoiled. The noise came out louder than intended, cracking and rippling as if it had not been used in years.
I killed these people.
Automatically, robotically, the girl stood up. She saw a swordlike blood-red object leaning against the cot and picked it up, internally knowing it to be the murder weapon she used. There was no other explanation besides that she had gone completely insane.
If I stay here any longer, I might kill more people too. I need to leave. I don't want to be a murderer. I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
Fresh tears clung to her cheeks, tears that somehow turned solid and hit the floor as sharp spears of ice, shattering into a million pieces.
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