Vaeltaja

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

E L I J A H

@Athol

---

As Eliza spoke to him, he kept his eyes focused on the three against the door. If these things were attempting to get through, it could only mean that there were still some people alive; judging by the body on the floor, that even some made it through and secured themselves on the other side. It was their best bet at finding survivors, and quite likely the only shot they had at safety, even if it was probably temporary. The only thing to do now was find a good method to taking out the ones in the way. He had a lamp body as a weapon and though it was heavy and effective, the base was starting to disconnect a little, proving that while it was an efficient tool, it was far less durable than what Eliza had.

His eyes roamed to the pipe in her hand, trailing upwards along her arm to her face, which wore an expression of concern. He could tell by her stance and the grip she held that she wasn't just some ordinary citizen. She had some sort of training to her, though Elijah couldn't quite tell what kind. His eyes then darted around the room in which they stood as he searched for a new object to use. Large crates and cases that held very little, a fire extinguisher hanging halfway off the wall, pieces of glass too small to do any real damage... his options were limited, that is until he got an idea.

Leaving the doorway, Elijah moved to the base of the stairwell and set the body on the ground, base first. Placing his foot on the base, he proceeded to bend the body of the lamp until it snapped off, becoming much lighter in his hand. Seeing it as ineffective, Elijah threw it aside, reasoning that it wouldn't work well against the ones in the next room. Next, he placed the base of the lamp, now essentially a thick brass plate, onto the knuckles of his hand, weaving the cord through his fingers and wrapping it around the plate tight enough to secure it in place. With a hefty breath, Elijah lifted himself up, grabbed the neck of the lamp and moved back to the doorway.

"I've got a plan, but it's risky," he whispered, guiding Eliza away from the door and closing it quietly. "You stand to the side, right here, and tap on the door with that pipe. That's going to draw them over to the door. When you think they're all there, you give me the signal, and I'll charge straight through the door. If luck's on our side, we hit them all in one shot and we take them out right then and there. You with me on this?"

He could see Eliza mull the idea over with mild incredulity, and then reluctantly nod. Yeah, I know, he thought, it's reckless, but I'm fine with putting my life on the line...

---

"How long have you been feeling like this?" she asked, the pen tapping against the pad of pale yellow paper.

"I'm not sure," he replied, staring past his clasped hands and into the faded burgundy carpet. He could tell maintenance hadn't been around for a few days, judging from the bits of food the others left behind. Sighing, he leaned back in the leather chair, laying his arms on the rests. The sunlight did little to illuminate the room. "Comes and goes, most days."

"Has it ever gotten bad?"

"You make it sound as if it's good to start with."

She shifted in her seat, pushing the horn-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "My apologies. What I meant to ask is if it's ever gotten particularly... overwhelming."

Silence. Beyond the windows, the muffled chirps of the birds tending to their young helped fill the void.

"It's intrusive, sometimes. There's times where... where that's all there is. It's like one moment, you're watching some random TV show or doing silly shit with your friends and having fun, and then? Darkness. That thing that makes you feel like it's all..."

He heard the click of the pen.

---

As Eliza braced herself against the wall, Elijah moved back and got into position, waiting. Eliza, strands of golden hair stuck to her misted face, began tapping on the door with the pipe, stopping momentarily to listen for the sounds of movement, then repeating the pattern. As the movement got closer, so close that she could hear their growls on the other side, she turned gave Elijah a signal. Nodding, he broke into a full sprint, positioning his shoulder to be level with the door. As he neared its surface, Elijah lifted his body, pushing the lever of the door with his hip and blowing the door wide open, sending the things on the other side stumbling back and falling over each other on the ground.

"NOW!" he shouted as he towered over one's head, proceeding to strike it in the face as hard as he could with the brass plate.

What Are You Listening To?

What Are You Listening To?

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

^@Athol

^{L o s A n g e l e s , C a l i f o r n i a ; 8 M o n t h s A g o}

"I've got some good news, kid. It took a little bit of finagling and some of my Brooklyn charm, but... you're going on tour!"

Elijah couldn't believe what he heard. After all the effort he put in to create the second album, it was starting to finally pay off. Not only was he able to break even with a little profit, but this announcement showed him that people were willing to listen to his music, that there was audience out there who understood. "Wait a minute. You serious?" he asked in disbelief.

Percy waddled out from behind the table, dressed to the nines in his standard suit. In hindsight, Percy knew the weather was too much for his outfit, but he'd rather die than look unprofessional. He held an unlit cigar in his hand, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. "After all this time, after me helping you through every sort of snafu imaginable, you don't believe I could land you a deal like this?"

"No! I-it's not that. It's just..." Elijah scratched the back of his head and looked to the floor. "I was starting to think this thing wouldn't pan out, you know? I barely broke even on the first album, and you know how expensive it is here. Going back to Florida was going to be a thing if this album didn't work."

Percy smiled and looked up at Elijah, tapping his forearm in a reassuring manner.

"As long as I'm still here, you're not going anywhere but up."

^{R o y a l P a l m s R e s o r t ; P r e s e n t D a y}

Elijah pulled himself together on the way down the stairs, finally pushing past the overwhelming scent of blood. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this way, but then again, he never was in a situation where killing someone was an option. The visions of the encounter flashed through his mind; how he swung as hard as possible and with near-reckless abandon, how the skull caved in as if it were a beanbag, how the body continued to move despite the trauma, and how many strikes it took to finish the job. Going over the memory made him shiver. In the back of his mind, he knew it probably wouldn't be the last time it happened. Beyond this, and until he found a way off the island, there would likely be more moments where blood and gore would become prevalent to his senses. It would be something he'd need to be used to.

Elijah's thoughts shifted to Percy in his final moments. The graying skin, the blood seeping from his mouth, the hunger in his bloodshot, milky white eyes; the way he tilted and slipped over the side, the almost-human scream that gurgled out of his mouth, the silence when he hit the ground. Elijah felt a pain in his chest; sadness or anxiety, he couldn't tell. His uncle, manager, friend - gone.

Then, he remembered the person on the third floor, the one awkwardly climbing their way down to the patio beneath them, and his focus returned. Only of two possibilities existed in that moment: either she slipped and fell to her death, or she found her way down and made it through. Granted, if more of those things were still around down here, she could have succumbed to further attacks. This only spurred Elijah's movements, his muscles finally kicking back into gear as he sped down the stairs, only to slow once again as he heard a door open from below. He could pick up the sound of the hinges squeaking as it swung wide, and he began to carefully descend as a result, clutching tightly to the lamp in his hand. Then, all of a sudden, he heard a woman's voice.

"Hello?"

Human. Alive.

Elijah stopped on the staircase, out of view as he weighed his options. Somewhere below him, someone was still kicking. On one hand, they could be wound-free and in need of help. On the other, they could be another Percy, a body in the making. His grip on the lamp tightened even further as he ruminated over what he would say, until the words finally came to him. With a tinge of concern and distrust in his voice, he called out to the voice below.

"Hey. Anything bite you?"

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

Elijah took the hallway to the right, jogging down the corridor and keeping his eyes peeled for any dangers. As he weaved past the disheveled baggage carts, he slowed down and started poring through their contents, searching for any sign of food in case surviving on the island became a priority. It was one of the first things he learned about when it came to thriving in the apocalypse, his knowledge coming from a combination of reality TV shows and the occasional internet search. In one suitcase in particular, he happened to find a single granola bar. It wasn't much, but on the grand scale, it was a start.

He eventually reached the end of the corridor, which opened out into a wide area with elevators on both sides. At the end of the area, there was a single person swaying back and forth near an open door, seemingly out of the way. Staying as silent as possible, he tiptoed his way toward an elevator, splaying his fingers over the button panel and feeling around for the down button. Once found, he pressed it firmly, waiting for a ring of light to encircle it, but no light came. Elijah began tapping the button repeatedly when a speaker crackled to life overhead, followed by voice shrouded in nervousness and fear:

_{”Hello? Anyone? If anyone can hear me, please, make your way to the security control room. It’s safe here! Don’t bother with the elevators, they’re all out. Look for fire escapes and the stairwells. Use the stairs or fire exits to make your way to the basement! The basement! If anyone’s there, come to the security control room...”}

"Shit," Elijah exclaimed as he stared at the speaker, dropping his arm away from the button. Nearby, the person stumbled closer, arms outstretched. The noise in the speaker seemed to draw them away from the door and towards Elijah, who now white-knuckled the lamp body in his hand. He cautiously backed up and raised the lamp above his head, aligning its solid square base with his intended target's head. For all intents and purposes, Elijah could conclude that this was, in fact, a zombie, and so while he felt a bit uneasy, he knew he could do what was necessary.

And so, he swung.

Past the open door, he found a stairwell. After roughly a few minutes of descending, he stopped to catch his breath, still reeling from the moment. He pressed his back to the wall and slid down its surface until he sat upon the floor, his head feeling light. Beside him, the blood-soaked lamp still had a piece of flesh and brain matter stuck to one of its edges. The smell of blood permeated Elijah's senses, and he hated every moment. He could smell it in the spatter on his shirt, the streaks on his hands, the spray on his face. It covered him, invaded him, debilitated him. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, taking deep breaths and trying to forgo the horrid scent. Though it took longer than he wished, he got himself under control and pulled himself to his feet. As his eyes darted around the stairwell, he caught a glimpse of a large, orange sign painted upon the wall, telling him what floor he was on. The second floor was just a couple flights of stairs away.

Clutching the railing, he carefully began the descent once more.

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

Well since I plan on throwing some shit at her once she gets down, odds are she'll still be there

@Athol

Looking forward to the meetup.

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

Eliza will be glad to see a non-hostile face.

@Athol

Let's hope she's still there by the time Elijah arrives, then. Not only is he compelled to help someone in need, but he also wants answers as to what's going on. His first thought would be to ask Eliza, once she's safe, as she's seemingly the first (and probably only, according to Elijah) survivor.

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

To give some sense of direction, I’m going to have a security guard call any survivors into the basement to safety. IE the basement is where the security center is. I’m assuming if everyone is onboard with this concept our characters will group together there to get to a safe place.

The first obvious objective is escape the overrun hotel. Our characters can group up in the basement and from there use a vehicle in the basement level garage to escape the hotel. From there it is a basic scenario of “let’s find a safe place to lay low and figure this sh*t out” while observing the direity of things.

Thoughts?

@Delphio

That's fine with me. Elijah's probably going to check the second floor first, however, just to see if Athol's character (the one I alluded to seeing when Elijah looked over the edge) is alright or needs any help, if they're even there at that point. If the guard does the call in the midst of that, heading to the basement will be the next objective.

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

I imagine we'll all either pair up or group up collectively before we exit the resort. Worst case scenario, one of us runs into Carter and gets ferried to the next location, and that we'll give us a point of interest for our characters to head towards, upon which that'll likely be our group-up point.

EDIT: I can meet one of you on my next post. Our characters don't have to know each other, but if you'd rather go down that way, we can think something up. Open to ideas.

What Are You Listening To?