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Post by Robert on May 26, 2010 21:22:55 GMT -5
The hospital was, he decided, far more boring than the mall.
The place was a cemetery, inhabited only by the infected, the specials, and the swiftly-decaying dead. The bodies had lasted a while (thanks to all the artificial crap put in everyday foods, a science lesson grotesque enough to have been remembered by the class’ teenaged attention-spans), but the weeks had taken their toll, and that toll happened to be any hope of pleasant smell in the bland white hallways. It would take more than a dozen bottles of Febreeze to get the stench out of just one room.
Robert shuffled down the hall, glaring at the bloodstained floors and wishing that they would either A) echo the footsteps of something actually alive or B) stop smelling so delicious even though days-old blood tasted like a blend of mold and rust topped off with a dash of sawdust. He pulled his hoodie over his eyes, taking care not to yank it and tear the duct-tape that attached it to his neck, and tried to ignore the scent.
Dragging his sneakers across the floor, each step bringing a painful squeak, the Hunter wandered the halls of the hospital, ignoring the scattered commons and giving the single-fingered salute to the scarce specials. He honestly didn’t give a damn about any one of them either way, but it felt good to see that he was the only one smart enough to remember what it meant. (It was a riot insulting people who didn’t get that you were being a jerk to them.)
He’d just stuck his tongue out at a brain-dead, blob-ish Boomer when the roly-poly infected got whisked away (though ‘whisked’ wouldn’t be quite the word to describe it) by a prissy-looking Smoker. Robert stared after it for a moment, deciding that whatever that Smoker was up to beat the hell out of roaming an empty hospital, then slipped around the corner himself. The Smoker dragged her captive along quietly enough that Robert had to rely on the smell of cigarettes and burning skin to follow. The teen put all his concentration on muffling his movements as he trailed behind, avoiding the squeaky blood puddles.
Smoker-Lady went on for a time before stopping at a corner. The tile floor had begun to vibrate suspiciously a few halls back, but by now it pounded in tune with a rampaging Tank. Robert eased up on the Metal Gear Solid stealth and caught up just in time to see the lady shove her poor captive forward and into the path of some surprisingly-human scents. He gasped, the sound harsh through his tattered throat, and inhaled the scent deeply. It’d been way too long since he last smelled something that didn’t belong in a coffin (yet).
In fact, the smell was so good, he didn’t notice the Smoker-Lady walking towards him until she’d practically run him over; even then, he hardly payed her any mind. Ever-confident, he simply shook his hoodie back just enough so that she could see his bored look, an expression that said what his mangled voice-box could not: ‘What the hell are you doing?’
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Post by Mother on May 26, 2010 22:46:16 GMT -5
She would have ran right into the Hunter had he not sat up with a bored expression, as if asking "What the hell are you doing?" However, she had no patientce for the young pouncer, staring back at him.
What do you want? She coughed, brushing past him. The Hunter was really of no concern, although his actions were a bit out of the ordinary, but unless he showed actual intelligence, he was not worth the time.
She continued down the hallway, taking in the enticing smell of gore and blood, the satisfying sight of death everywhere. As a human, this might have been absolutaly horrifying. But all she remembered of that life was her child.
She was abruptly brought out of her thoughts when one of her lesser bretheren stumbled into her, having been shoved while fighting another. Letting out an angry snarl/cough, she grabbed the offending infected's head and slammed it into the wall until it's skull cracked open, blood pouring out. As for the one that knocked it into her, she simply tossed out the window.
Suddenly thinking about the Hunter, she looked behind herself for a few moments, before turning forward once more and continuing on.
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Post by Robert on May 27, 2010 19:18:55 GMT -5
Robert would have been more than happy to tell the prude what he wanted. He would have been absolutely delighted to inform her of how he wanted her to get her smelly, burnt ass out of the hospital and stink up someone else’s building. He could not think of anything he’d rather do besides insult this uppity chick.
It was just a shame he didn’t have enough of a windpipe to form the words. The Smoker strolled away with nary a care.
Settling for a soft, choked growl, the teen followed the lady down the hall. He was far too self-centered to let her simply walk off and ignore him. Straightening up a bit, he jogged over and followed just behind her (and a little to the right, because only creepers walked directly behind people).
When she turned back, he met her gaze for just a moment before turning away and staring intensely at the wall ahead. Soon enough, she was back on her way and Robert took his chance to simply glare at the back of her head and will her to notice what an awesome Hunter he was.
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Post by Maxwell Johnson on May 27, 2010 21:39:49 GMT -5
"Just get out of here!" Max shouted back at the kids who dragged the man away back towards the entrance to the hallway. He kept firing at the tank until he heard the tell-tale click that meant he was out of ammo in that clip.
Well, now, wasn't that just a pain in his ass?
He quickly tossed the rifle aside and yanked his machete free, ducking as he did just in time to dodge a punch from the tank that ripped through the doorway he'd been standing him. Dust and chunks of sheet rock blanketed Max as he lunged and rolled between the Tank's legs, coming to a crouch behind it and slashing deeply into one of its legs to slow it further.
"COME ON, BIG BOY! FOLLOW ME! I'M THE ONE YOU WANT!" Max said, taunting it and slashing at it again. What he was doing was likely a death sentence, but at least it'd get those kids away from here without being killed by this big behemoth of a zombie. Sure, it wasn't much, but at least it was something good he could do before the zombies claimed him.
Besides, he wasn't even through, yet. He still had a chance to win this fight, and he wasn't easy, even for a Tank.
As the tank swerved around, swiping an open palm at him as it did so, Max dodged back again, taunting and yelling at the Tank to keep its attention on him and away from the children and unconscious man. He continued dodging and weaving around the Tank with several close calls, getting in light slashes and thrusts where he could, until finally the big beast had had enough. It bellowed a huge roar and full-out charged him, reaching out before he could react with his machete and grabbing him and throwing him full-out through a wall.
Max thought he could hear a rib break as he went through the sheet rock and two-by-four studs in the wall, landing on the other side in a shower of wood and dust. He let out a grunt, feeling around for his machete as he looked up through the hole at the Tank panting there from exertion.
"Fine, then......," he said, reaching into his right side cargo pocket and pulling out his last frag grenade,"YOu wanna play like that? Come on......I"ll show you a real good time. It'll be a blast."
He held the grenade in one hand and, with the other, pulled out a pistol and fired straight at the Tank's head. Each round hit home somewhere on the zombie's body, enraging it further. It opened its mouth wide in an angry roar and charged at him again, intending to grab him and slam him around like a rag doll. Let it try. He had a nasty surprise ready for it.
Just as it started charging, Max tossed his pistol to the side and pulled the pin on the grenade. As it neared him, he lobbed the grenade into its mouth, grinning as it picked him up and tossed him through another wall. Pain lanced through his body like a hot knife, making him cry out as he hit the next wall on the other side, the two by fours in this one stopping him from going through.
As he hit the ground and the Tank began to step over the wall, its mouth split open again in an angry roar, the grenade detonated in its throat. The explosion from the small weapon ripped through the Tank, tearing its head apart and sending blood and gore everywhere. The Tank's body, now headless, sank to the ground slowly, the muscle rippling as it slammed heavily to the floor.
Panting where he lay against the wall, Max grimaced as he got up. Pain shot through his side. He definitely had some broken ribs. That Tank had done a number on him, but he was still alive at least. He just needed to find a safehouse to hole up in and wait to heal up. It'd take a couple of weeks, but he should be able to make it if he was careful.
He groaned as he stood up straight and walked into the room he'd been thrown into and then out of. He gasped quietly in pain as he bent to retrieve his pistol and return it to its holster.
It hurt to move. It hurt to stand. It hurt to breath. His entire body throbbed in screaming pain.
He pushed it back out of his mind, though. He could survive this. He had to survive this, if he ever wanted to see Brittany again. He couldn't just leave her out there to die, or even just fight for his own life without checking to see if she was alive or dead. He just couldnt' have peace of mind until he knew what had happened to her.
Moving slowly, he moved back to where he'd first started firing at the massive zombie full of muscle and reached down again, picking up his rifle. He slowly and tenderly slung it across his body. The strap being pulled against his body hurt, but he dared not just carry it. That would likely be worse once his arms got tired.
Finally, after having retrieved all of his equipment, he started off the way the children had gone with the man. He was covered in dust, dirt, and a little bit of blood where the sheetrock and wood had cut him. Overall, though, he was fine with the exception of some broken ribs from being thrown through walls. He had to consider himself lucky. Not many could get through a fight with a Tank in as good a shape as he had.
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Rae Beckham
New Member
Heads are gonna be shot.
Posts: 48
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Post by Rae Beckham on May 28, 2010 19:15:39 GMT -5
Spotting a rather large door, Rae directed her head toward it. "Dahlia, get inside!"
"What makes you think that's going to stop a tank?" Luigi questioned as they both struggled to hold the unconscious man up. "We'll be cornered!"
"You got a better idea?" she snapped back at the other teen. When Luigi didn't reply, they continued to half drag, half pull the man into the room. It held two hospital beds, and luckily there weren't any infected or bodies inside.
They propped the man up against the end of one bed. Luigi scurried over to the door and pulled it shut, barricading it with a small table and sofa chair. It wouldn't last for long, but it would do for now.
Rae turned her attention to the man. He hadn't awakened yet, and she couldn't heal him until she knew how serious his wounds were.
There was only one option.
"Hey, buster!" she snapped. "Wake up!" she threw her hand back and slapped him in the face sharply, before doing so again. "Wake up!"
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Luke Shiloh
New Member
"There's a reason I'm still alive."
Posts: 11
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Post by Luke Shiloh on May 29, 2010 13:19:17 GMT -5
Dark images slid over his vision as Shiloh bobbed along the edge of consciousness; his world was muted and hazy, but no sooner had he seemingly slipped beneath the surface that someone struck him across the face.
"Wake up!"
Another flash of pain; olive eyes flaring wildly open, the southerner cursed and jerked back from his assailant.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, glancing around the room and rubbing the side of his face, "the hell are you? Where's the fire?"
His head was pounding something furious; as he tried to rise, streaks of red blurred his vision and he was overcome by dizziness. Scrunching shut his eyes, he massaged his temples, trying to recall what had happened to warrant such agony.
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Post by Dahlia Breaker on May 29, 2010 14:09:11 GMT -5
Snapping out of her fright, she quickly ran into the room as directed, glad when she saw no sick people inside. Quickly climbing onto a bed, she waited for a few moments as Luigi and Rae carried the man inside, Luigi going about putting stuff in front of the door and Rae... Slapping the man. The child had no idea how that would help, but hey, maybe it would.
Sure enough, it awoke the man, but he didn't seem too happy about being slapped. Deciding that it was best to let Rae and Luigi handle this, she hopped off the bed, went over to the barricaded door and climbed onto the couch, peeking out the window into the hallway, anxious.
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Post by Maxwell Johnson on May 30, 2010 9:33:17 GMT -5
Max shuffled down the hallway slowly, sharp pain jabbing into his side with each breath. The Tank had really done a number on him. His entire body hurt.
As he walked down the hallway, he saw a little face peeking out of a door window at him. He psissed for a moment, his hand tightening slightly on the grip of his pistol. THen he realized that the face was that of the little girl he'd stopped from going down the hallway.
So, those kids she was with were pretty smart. They barricaded themselves in a room. Good move.
"Hey" he said, coming up to the door and knocking on it softly,"It's me. Come on, let me in."
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Rae Beckham
New Member
Heads are gonna be shot.
Posts: 48
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Post by Rae Beckham on Jun 1, 2010 18:00:14 GMT -5
"Be still!" Rae snapped, pushing the man back down. "Do you want me to heal you, or do you want to bleed to death?" She pulled the first-aid kit from her back and retrieved some gauze from it.
She examined his head closely. "You have a pretty bad cut on your forehead that probably needs stitches, but gauze will have to do for now. There's a chance you have a bit of a concussion." After wiping away as much blood as she could, she began to wrap the gauze around his head carefully.
"Dahlia, stay away from the windows!" Luigi cried, picking the small girl up from where she was perched on the sofa chair. "Something might snatch you away!" He placed her on a nearby bed after making sure it wasn't covered in gore.
Finishing with his head, Rae wrapped the man's other wounds gently. He was pretty banged up, but she suspected he would be fine.
"Okay," she wiped her hands on her jeans to rid them of the blood. "What now?"
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Post by Mother on Jun 1, 2010 19:14:41 GMT -5
The Hunter was still following her. Why? Did she have something it wanted? Was it just stupid? Or perhaps it intended to kill her...
But perhaps it could be made into an ally... He would certainly be useful, provided he was competant to begin with. Only one way to find out, it seemed.
Stopping for a moment, she coughed back to him. Have you killed a human yet? She questioned. He had blood on his hoodie, sure, but was it a victim's, or his own? She gestured for him to come to her, not giving an air of friendliness, but at the same time, not one of hostility. She figured that if he was useful, she'd keep him. If not, then she'd kill him. It sounded like a good plan.
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Post by Dahlia Breaker on Jun 1, 2010 19:31:59 GMT -5
Dahlia giggled when Luigi lifted her into the air, happy to be around him. After being set onto the bed however, she immediatly remembered something.
"But Luigi! That man is out there!" She paused, squirming. "Aren't we gonna let him in? He did make the big thing chase after him, so we should at least say thank you." She bounded over to the window once more, looking out. Sure enough, there he was, knocking on the door. And boy, did he look worse for wear.
She climbed back down from the sofa couch, looking up at Luigi and Rae. She also spared a glance at the man who just woke up, not sure what to think of him. He seemed a little rude, but maybe he was just confused.
Stepping to the side, she gazed at her brother and sister figures, waiting to see what they would do.
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Post by Robert on Jun 1, 2010 22:06:59 GMT -5
The lady stopped suddenly enough that Robert nearly lost his balance trying to stay upright and had to practically wobble back a few steps to settle himself again. By the time she spoke, he’d managed to straighten up and look nonchalant about stalking her. Fortunately, she wasn’t throwing a fit about it.
’Have you killed a human yet?’ she asked.
Dumb question. The hunter scoffed, folding his arms across his chest and giving her a confident nod. He’d offed three poor saps already. One had just been out wandering the streets alone. Another had stopped to search a cabinet and trailed just a bit too far behind his team. The most recent had just been stupid enough to lock himself in a hospital bathroom and not recall the ol’ ‘ID card down the lock’ trick.
Having breezed through his recollections (this wasn’t exactly the best time for a stroll down memory lane), Robert set his attention back to the woman. He shrugged and held his palms up, trying to inquire as to why the hell she was suddenly so interested in his achievements so far. Though if she had a plan, he thought, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to enlist. Strength in numbers, and whatnot. Better yet, it meant he’d have an audience.
The smoker motioned him forward, and he followed with small, shuffling steps. Sure he was curious, and sometimes he was reckless, but he knew enough about stranger-danger to be wary around someone who’d simply toss a Boomer into some survivors without a care.
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Post by Mother on Jun 2, 2010 20:13:22 GMT -5
As she waited for the Hunter to get closer, she was pleased with his mute response about his kills. It meant that he was more than cabable, and combined with his display of emotions, meant that he was cabable of thinking beyond that of a regular Hunter. That boded well for her. But she was curious as to why he didn't just say something. And she intended to find out.
She had a breif coughing fit before kneeling down to the Hunter's level, getting a better look at him. Sure enough, his throat was torn apart, explaining his muteness. Although honestly, it wasn't much of a drawback.
Finishing her examination, the Smoker stood up, her multiple "tounges" gently swishing back and forth. And she smelled a very familier scent on him. It was a bit aged, but enough to pick it up.
I have a proposition to you, my kin. Those human's have something of mine that I want back, and I can smell a scent on you that I also recall from my life before... She gestured at herself and around them. This. Help me get what I want here...
She paused, letting the Hunter take it in before offering what he had to gain from it.
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Post by Robert on Jun 2, 2010 21:12:30 GMT -5
Creepy-Smoker-Lady waited until he’d scooched forward before flipping the creepy-switch. She moved forward and stared at him, making the phrase ‘stranger danger’ all the more real. Robert leaned back carefully, raising a brow (which was pretty much invisible under the hood) and taking a couple steps back.
The lady didn’t seem to want to push it, though. She backed off and stood there with all the weird tentacles swooshing around like some sort of octopus-related super-villain. Further cementing this image, she used the word ‘kin’. Anyone who spoke that fancy was either evil, with the government, or both.
Robert listened carefully to her story, all the while wondering why he should care. So far, he saw nothing in it for him besides a tasty meal, and he could probably manage to get that without meddling around in this lady’s past life. He expressed his lack of interest by shifting his feet and staring off at the wall; however, he did keep listening, on the off chance that she decided to say something worthwhile.
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Post by Mother on Jun 4, 2010 15:07:13 GMT -5
She could tell that the Hunter was loosing interest, so she figured she'd just cut to the chase.
"Alright, let me put it simply. Help me get the child, my child, from the humans here. In return, I'll see to it that the rest of those humans are easy prey."
Suffering a brief coughing fit, she returned her gaze to the Hunter.
"I have encountered one of those humans before. And if he is hard to kill, then odds are so are the others he travels with. It would be hard to kill any of them on your own." She shrugged. "Just a thought. So, does this plan work for you?"
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