Rule Britannia
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Here is the sequel to one of my previous stories. It will, this time, be split into chapters with one being uploaded every day, hopefully. Forgive me, as I sometimes write in an archaic way. Without further introduction, here is Chapter I. The Last Man Alive II CHAPTER I: HOW I ESCAPED As we left off, I was trapped in my house on top of Street Hill, in Somerset. That was where I wrote my first account. I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it out alive, now that I am here; I have decided to continue my journal, to recount this catastrophe for future generations. I suppose it’s ironic that, as I write this, on the 21st of December, humanity’s domination of the world is slowly breathing its last breaths. I have learned a lot of the origin of the horrendous plague and of the fate of the people who created it. All of this I shall explain to reader in due time. My story stopped as I was awaiting my death in my house. I remember that I had a P-90 with a full clip, some whiskey and a cigarette. I waited for two days until a drunk the whiskey and then I estimated it to be another two days until my death. I considered committing suicide multiple times, but I convinced myself that help was coming. Help didn’t come. Instead I created a makeshift rope from some wire and bed-sheets that I had. At night, I hung them out of the window. As I slid down, the bed-sheets came off and I cut my wrists badly. This attracted them, and I was forced to jump the remaining few feet. They jumped down after me and half them were dismembered by the fall, and yet, even without legs they still came after me. I quickly wrapped my arms in some of the bed-sheets and ran with my P-90. I ran for hours, how many I can’t remember. Apparently, I ran into Bridgewater, a good 25 miles away, and collapsed. Luckily, some survivors found me and took me in. The next thing that I remember is waking up in a bed behind a heavily fortified door. I went downstairs, and I found that I was in Bridgwater Police Station. It was here that I met two people, who would become my companions, Captain Lucy Brown and Sergeant Jack Billington. They were both members of the military who took refuge after their armoured squad was overrun by the horde. Lucy was about 25, fair-haired, thin and about 5’ 7”. Jack was younger, although he has not told me his age yet, black haired, thin but he was taller than me, about 6’ 8”. When I came down they were sipping lukewarm coffee and gazing out of the window. They were not talking, but you could tell that they needed each other’s company. I walked up to them and greeted them; “Hello” I said. “Hi” said Jack, not really bothered. “Hi” said Lucy. “Thanks for taking me in” said I. “No problem. Who are you?” said Lucy. “I’m Harry Stone” said I, “who are you?” “I’m Captain Lucy Brown, that’s Sergeant Jack Billington. We were part of an armoured division, but we were overran. We came here, we were the only survivors.” “Those ruddy things just clawed them to death.” said Jack, looking, morbidly, into the distance. “What about you?” “I was with some of your comrades from the station in Wells. We were holed up in my house, but I -“ I paused. I didn’t want to say that I sacrificed them, “- we were overrun as well. They told me to go, ‘cause I was a civvy. I ran and ran until I got here. What do you plan to do?” “We’re goin’ to RNAS Yeovilton, to catch a helicopter away from here.” said Lucy, in a confident tone. “It’s no use. They’re everywhere back that way. I was heading westward, to Cornwall. There must be some boats Plymouth way.” said I. “Right then. We’ll come with you. Better chance of finding someone in power anyway.” said Lucy. “What in the hell are going to take? We ain’t got anything, if go out there, they’ll f*** us over.” said Jack. “Don’t be such a bloody defeatist.” said Lucy, visibly irritated, “He’s like this all the time. It really does my ‘ead in!” With that exchange, we set off. Lucy wanted to get to Minehead by the evening, that’s 26 miles in about a half an hour. Nevertheless, we stocked up food and I was given more rounds for my P-90 and we set off. We travelled in a military jeep, Jack was on the rear-mounted machine gun and I was in the back, tasked with shooting enemies who came from behind. Lucy was driving. We travelled down the A-39, weaving through abandoned cars and their dead occupants. We came across few of them, apparently, they were all further westward or northward. Although one gave me a nasty gash across my face. It stretched from the top of me left cheek all the way up to the top of my right eye. It must’ve been about a half an inch deep, maybe even an inch! I also noticed that some dust off of it rubbed off into my wound. That becomes more important later. It was starting to get darker and we were forced to go to Watchet which is about two or three miles away from Minehead. Watchet is a little port town, facing into the Severn Channel. It’s main attraction is the West Somerset Railway which connects Bishop’s Lydeard and Minehead. The unusual thing about it is that it is a steam train. We pulled into town and parked up in a seaside car park. We broke into a hotel and went to the very top floor. We decapitated the few of them that we saw, and settled in a room that we heavily fortified. We didn’t switch on a light for fear of attracting them. We supped on a meal of cold baked beans and some water that we had collected from a burst main pipe. Oddly, it never occurred to us that the taps might be working, we were overtaken by the idea that it would be your stereotypical scenario. As in, no electricity, water, gas, fuel, etc. I was very sick that night. It must have been the horror of seeing all of those dead decomposing bodies. I couldn’t sleep either, none of us could, every single creek in the floors put us on edge. We thought that the Grim Reaper was slowly coming our way, sniffing us out and then sending his minions to strike us down and drag us down into the molten depths of hell. It was decided that one of us would stay guard for two hours and then rotate. It was my turn first and I decided to take a table from the room and use that for cover, luckily, nothing happened. When my two hours were up, Lucy came out, and I finally managed to descend into an uneasy sleep.
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I play on the WII!!! On that I'm either RuleBritannia or 115(UK). Playing times: Weekdays, 3-5 PM (GMT, BST when necessary) Saturdays, 10ish-2ish (As above) Microphone: No Kino: 21 I usually get bored and go and play multiplayer if I play for too long. Especially if it's with really bad people. I'm okay running around if I know people are good, I prefer to camp if they're not. I never buy perks. I will open a few doors and I always try to upgrade the M14.
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Thanks for all of the positive feedback! I am starting to write the sequel to The Last Man right now.
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Sorry if my writing is absolutely terrible, but I'd thought that I'd have a stab at it. The first one's about the Moon Easter Egg and then a zombie invasion in Great Britain. The second one's more me developing an idea that I've had. Both could have sequels depending on the reception that I get. 1. The Last Man Alive How could nobody know what was going on right under our noses? We knew that they did horrible things to people but, how could this get overlooked? Were they too careless or did they want it for themselves? In any case, it's too late now. Their negligence may be the end of us all. I don't know to whom this is being written, but I feel that I must share my experiences with somebody. I don't have much time, they must by nearby now, and that door isn't going to hold them forever. Let me start from the beginning. Almost everyone has heard rumours about strange things happening at Der Riese in Germany, about Die Glocke and Nazi occultism. Most people disregarded it, thinking that it was just some part of Hitler's insanity, but some did believe the something more was going on. They know what to do, they are prepared, and surely, they will be the last left alive. Then there were reports of strange disterbances at the Pentagon, a cinema in East Germany, a Russian cosmodrome, Siberia and on the Moon. Of course, during the '60s everyone was too concerned about nuclear war, and, in regard to Siberia, everyone knew that Romero had an odd imagination. N. A. S. A. couldn't seem to explain the small flashes of blue that came periodically from the Moon's surface, they put it down to some freaky solar winds or something. I don't care to remember at this point. And then there were reports of a band of four heros. Apparently, they appeared and disappeared at these locations, travelling through time and space it seems. I still don't really know if they exist, but, it's nice to think that someone out there might be able to bring about an end to this nightmare. My story started on the 13th January 2012, I remember the day vividly. The sunrise was a dazzaling mixture of yellows, red, oranges and purples. It was a warm morning, the soft breeze kept the temperature bearable and I awoke to to the sound of birds singing. I got up at 7 AM, and got dressed to go to work. I worked at H. M. Treasury in London. My London apartment was overlooking Parliament Square, Big Ben's chimes alerted me too the time and I hurried off, forgoing breakfast. It was a normal day at the Treasury, advising the Chancellor, having stern words with departments, nothing out of the ordinary. I finished work at 7 PM and decided to dine in a cafe along the Embankment. I sat outside with my tea and a nice beef roast dinner. As I sat I looked up into the clear night sky. It was completely back due to the light pollution, but I could see the moon. It looked queer, bigger than usual like it was quite a few miles closer to Earth than usual. It was a beautiful sight, one could easily see the Sea of Tranquility and I fancy that I could've seen Apollo 11 with a telescope. It was while I was sat there that a strange thing happened. I saw several of those blue flashes, some little green sort of rays just shooting of into space. This continued for some hours, I continued watching as I walked back to my apartment. Later that night, I was awoke by the sound of military convoy heading in the direction of the MI6 building. I did think that that was strange, but I shook it off regardless. The next carried on as any would. I don't remember it very well, although, I do remember that you could still see the Moon in the day time. The blue flashes and streaks of green were coming off from what looked like little black spots. That night was eerie, the blue flashes reminded me of the War of Worlds particulary the lines;- "-intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded this Earth with enviouvs eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans agianst us." At one o'clock in the morning I was awoke by fantic chiming from churches across London, coupled with air raid sirens. I looked out of my window and people were hurrying to shelter with whatever they could pack. I ran out into the street and saw the police directing them I walked over to one and asked; "What the hell is this all about." "Sir, go to the shelter." said he, in a rather generic tone. "Not unless you tell me what's happened." He replied with a gesture upwards. I looked up. There were three massive rockets heading towards Earth at a mighty speed. The government thought that these were carrying massive amounts of nuclear weapons, enough to totally destroy the Earth. They were speeding towards us at hundreds of thousands of miles per hour. I found a bench and lit a cigarette. If they were carrying nuclear stuff, I thought, no-one could be saved, so why the hell should I want to go and die in a crowded room. They couldn't have been far away when I finished my cigarette. I went into a nearby shop, it's owned was gone. I took a bottle of champagne and left the change on the counter. I sat on this bench watching the rocket grow closer. I had no-one. My parents had died and I was their only child. The rockets were now a minute or two from impact, the orderd exodus had devolved into a mad stampede. People were desparetly running down into the Underground, as they crowded the tracks, they forgot the Underground was still running. I heard that many hundreds were killed by Underground trains. I finished up the last of the champagne and lit another cigarette. I closed my eyes and waited for my death. I heard an almighty bang and a flash that I could see through my eyelids. After the flash had died down, I opened my eyes and saw that the sky had turned many shades of orange, red and yellow. The rocket had, appartently, hit a kind of shield in the Earth's atmousphere, all three of them. The next day there was wild parties all over London. The newspapers printed praises to the Police for their alleged 'good' handling of the situation. What concerned me and nobody else, was that the blue flahes were still coming from the Moon. My sleep was interrupted again that night, by the sounds of gunfire coming from across the Thames. I ran out onto Westminster Bridge and saw searchlights and helicopters around the MI6 building, Vauxhall Cross. Sounds of gunfire were drawing more and more people from their sleep. I found the Prime Minister, who also didn't have ac lue waht was happening. The battle carried on and the sound of screaming got closer. "DO IT, KILL THEM, NOW!!!" shouted one voice, hoarsely. "DEAR LORD HELP US!!!" shouted a hysterical soldier, running past us, away from the battle. We saw artillery being move across Vauxhall Bridge. People were now jumping from the building into the Thames and the surrounding buildings were being evacuated. The artillery now sounded, chipping some parts of the building off. Several helicopter gunships let loose their arsenal and debris crahed into the Thames, killing several of the people who had jumped in. As the building was gradually destroyed, we saw the blue flashes from the Moon. Whatever had been there, was now here. Suddenly some electricity arced from the building to the helicopter and they were sent crashing, demolishing many building. We saw a mass of black figures rushing the artillery positions, hundreds were cut down but their were hundreds more to take their place. The mass of black was now moving rapidly up the banks of the Thames, in spite of the best efforts of the Army. Tanks were now positioned at each side of the Lambeth Bridge,j covering engineers who were trying to plant charges there. This was in vain, but one valiant engineer sent his cigarette into a mass of gunpowder killing at least a thousand of them. In a matter of minutes they were in the Victoria Tower Gardens, a few hundreds yards away from Westimnster Bridge. Presently, the mass of people on the crossed the bridge and started to head north-east, towards Regent's Park. As we passed Buckingham Palace, the Royal Family were quickly being put in a convoy of helicopter, probably heading to Windsor, or Balmoral. As I ran up Regent Street into Marylebone, I hotwired a car and started to drive it towards the M1, my plan to head North and wait for the army to destroy whatever these things were. The North Circular Road was gridlocked with Londoners who had probably been told to evacuate by the Police. I got out of my car and stood on top to try and formulate a plan, as I looked backward, I could see that artillery on the crest of Primrose Hill was now firing and I estimated that I was about a mile and half away from the horde. I began to form a daring plan in my head. I knew that a R. A. F. museum was not too far away. I began to drive along Edgeware Road, but this was also filled with traffic. I abandoned my car on the pavement and began to run towards the museum, which was just over a mile away. As I reached the doors I saw that people were now discarding their cars and just running. I saw people who ran eastward, to try and get out of Britain through East Anglia. But this wasn't just Britain, this was the whole world. Paris, Berlin, New York, Washington, New Dehli, Peking, Moscow, all were being overrun. I kicked the door down and ran through the exhibits. When the gaurds tried to stop me I bashed their heads in with a lead pipe. I regret doing that, but it was a matter of life and death. Eventually I found a Harrier Jump Jet, but it didn't have fuel. I broke into the store cupboard and found a small quantity, but it was enough. I also found a Colt M1911, which belonged to one of the guards. I botched the job of filling the fuel in as half of it went on the floor in my panic. I rolled the thing to a flat space outside, I jumped into the cockpit, I then realised that I had no clue how to fly a plane. As I was fumbling with the switches I looked up and noticed that of them had just jumped on the nose of the plane and was trying to smash the cockpit glass. I'll always remember the pure evil in it's eye's. Behind the glowing, bloodstained yellow I could see it's pupils. I could see an innocent sould corrupted by pure hatred and anger. I could see it's ravaged face, bloodstained. It was missing an arm. For a moment I feel that I connected with it, that I saw the real person behind the mask of necrosis. I often wonder what caused them to become what they are. Ebola is quite similar in nature, now I'm no physician, but some symptoms of Ebola are necrosis, partial brain death, super-agressive, etc. Maybe that's what the Nazi's were doing at Der Riese, but, I digress. The thing was pounding against the glass but luckily it held. I finally found a big button labled 'Ignition' and I pushed thing. The engines throtled up and I cut through part of the horde before pulling up. As I turned around, back over the M1, I saw them grabing people and consuming them. In fact, it was a big black darkness pouring over, suffocating, enveloping humanity. I flew over the southern England, watching masses of scared people rush westwards or to the south, eager to get a boat. They didn't know where, but somewhere away from this nightmare. I witnessed an odd occurance in a graveyard, at first I saw an odd red glow by it, radiating from a rock that had crashed into the Church. I saw people crawling out of their graves. I quickly sped on, but it was not soon before I was running out of fuel. I was forced to land in Wiltshire, by Stonehenge. I jupmed out of my plane and walked up to the ancient momument, I now figured that I had hours, maybe days before the horde reached me. As I walked up, I noticed that there were some people gathered in the central part of the structure. They seemed to be reciting an odd phrase in Latin. I also noticed that one of them had a pot of blood and proceeded to draw the all-seeing eye on one of the stones. They then started to chant "Illuminatus, Illuminatus . . ." over and over again. Suddenly, the ground heaved. The strange people ran out of the henge and I did to. I took cover behind a shrub and several balls of light, like ball electricity, appeared in the henge. These started to spin and they gradually rose further and further, speeding up. As they started to go above, they sped of up into the distance. I have never learned the point behind, nor any information about the people who did this. I think it was bad, in any case. The reason for this will come later on. When I was sure that they had gone, I stole one of the remaining cars parked in the Visitors' Centre and started to speed towards my house. That afternoon was uneventful, B. B. C. Radio couldn't really give me any information at all. Their studios in Salford were probably in disarry. After a few hours, I eventaully reached Wells in Somerset. Here I found a few people praying in the Cathedral. I urged them to leave and, perhps intimated by me gun, they left. I had a sit down in the Post Office. I was now less than 10 miles away from my house on top of Street Hill. It used to be a sanatorium owned by the Clarks Family, I brought it becuase it seemed like a nice place. Scenic, surrounded by a wood, looking over Street, you can even see Glastonbury in the distance. I broke into a local Police station where I found a company of soldiers resting. I offered them shelter and a command point in my house, their commander said that three of them could come with me. He also gave me P90 and a M16. The four of us took a Royal Mail van to Glastonbury. In Glastonbury we raided some shops for supplies, we found food, gallons of water, toiletaries and some bedding. We had a look around Glastonbury Abbey and we them. Apparently the spinning balls of light spawned even more of them. God knows why someone would want to unleash them on people. We 'killed' them and decided that we really should get to my house. We we reached my house, the sun was just setting. We boarded up the windows and doors, we set up machine gun at the stairs, in case we should have to retreat. We had boxes of grenades and motar upstairs. I have to say, we were very well set up indeed. The first action came when we alerted of the fall of Wells over our radio. We relayed this to a radio operator in Taunton and Yeovil, who said that they had contacts with what was left of the government. We started to shell Glastonbury with our lone artillery gun. It was not long before the black cloud was spreading over Street. We shelled Street with the last of our shells, we even tried to fire mortars out of the damned things but that just jammed the gun. As the cloud started to advance up the hill, the machine guns spoke cutting down wave after wave. As I had no military experience I just churcked grenades down the hill. We carried this on for an hour or two, but it was not long before the MGs ran out of ammunition.We got the guns from downstairs and decided to hold the upstairs. We heard them bashing down the doors and windows. We readied ourselves and when they appeared, we fired. We fired for quite a few minutes, but we soon ran out of ammo. I left into a room and I was so scared that I locked them out. I heard them fight valiantly, then they shouted and finally I heard them knock and slide down the door. They screamed as the flesh was torn from their bones, as they were mutilated beyond all recognition. This is my story. Now, I am left with a bottle of whiskey, a cigarette and a P90 with one 30-round clip in. I cannot see a way out, they're all around me and damn it, I swear that they're waiting for me. I must surely be the last man alive, shouldn't I? Well then, once more unto the breach dear friends, once more! 2. THE EXPERIMENT A dark room. A man is tied to chair with a light shining on his face. A man with a cigarette is walking around him smoking and regarding him carefully. The man standing is middle-aged with black hair, he is clean shaven and his eyes tell the story of someone who has seen many horrors. He is German. The man tied to the chair is around 20, also has black hair and no facial hair. He is energetic, clever and cunning. He also has a rzor-sharp wit. He is British. "Your name?" asked the man standing up. "F U Fritz." replied the other, confidently. "Don't make me angry, you won't like me when I am angry. Your name?" "Like I said, F U Fritz." The German turn to a man standing behind a glass screen, "Edward, a short sharp shock." The man turns a switch and he gives the Briton an electric shock. "Your name in John Black, your are British spy are you not?" "No. I'm a milkman, I only came to give you your three pints." replied Black, sarcastically. "Edward, turn it up again." Black recives another longer and more powerful shock. "You are a spy, and you were trying to sabotage this facility. This means you want to be here, therefore you have given us your consent to do what we want with you. Take him to the testing chamber and prepare the modified 115 serum." Two guards enter and drag the man away. The man from behind the glass comes through. He is tall, black haired, German and has many scars. "Hello, Dr. Richtofen, what do you want?" "Are you mass producing the DG-2? Or are you fooling me, Dr. Maxis?" "Oh, all in good time Edward, in good time." said Maxis avioding the question. Before Richtofen could reply, Maxis quickly shuffled away. Black was taken to a different room. He was strapped to a chair, the room itself was all black with one spotlight pointing directly into his eyes. There were many scientist going about the machines and consoles. Maxis arrived and went into the re-inforced viewing bay while Richtofen stayed. Richtofen went over to a fridge, inside the fridge were 13 vials of liquid. The liquid glowed due to the prescense of element 115. Edward pulled out a syringe and needle and drew some of liquid. He walked calmly over to Black as Maxis keenly watched. Being the sadistic man he was, Richtofen raised the needle high above his head and stabbed it straight into Black's right eyes, he grdually pushed down the syringe and, as the fluid started to course through his veins, Black screamed. Richtofen ran out of the room and joined Maxis in the viewing room. Some chuncks of Black's flesh started to drop off as necrosis started to rapidly take hold. Blood vessels in his eyes burst turning them into a sickly red colour. He continued to scream until the proccess was complete. Maxis and Richtofen cautiosly stepped into the room surrounded by armed guards. "Can you speak?" shouted Maxis, slowly. "Yes." replied Black in a very gravelly voice. "What is the date?" said Maxis, showing Black a calendar. "30th May 1945." "Good." Maxis and Richtofen were naturally overjoyed that they had created an intelligent zombie. The past seven test subjects had died or had lost control. Maxis envisioned intelligent zombies as officer, if you will. As they started to ass-produce this serum they decided that they had no need for Black, so they would use him as a teleporter subject. They put him in a teleporter and started the sequence. The machine became more and more hungry, the electricity transformers began to spark as the sequence began. Black saw a bright blue light and, alsmost imediately, appeared in a field. As he staggered to his feat, he saw a crashed B-17 Bomber and a ruined building in the distance. In the front of the bomber he saw the skeleton of the piolt, picked clean. As he ran towards the building, he noticed four marines upstairs, slaughtering hundreds of the mindless ressurected. He ran up to building and caught the attention of a marine, who promptly shot him in the head. This caused Black to become homocidal, all of the pent up agression had finally been realesed. He ran through the building and ripped the entrails out of three marines. One jumped down and escpaed using a parked jeep. After this, Black felt pretty guilty and he vowed to find Richtofen and Maxis and destroy them. He knew that he couldn't do this alone, so he decided to walk westward, towards the Western Allies.
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I've been around here for months but I've yet to post a proper introduction. I'm British, as you can probably guess. My favourite map is Kino as it is the only one I can play on since I have a Wii and my computer just can't do anything. My favourite character is Richtofen as I think he's loveable in a strange kind of way. I very rarely get very far on Zombies because I either get a little scared or jumpy on solo or I'm playing with a bunch of idiots in co-op. I am, though, very much interested in the Nazi Zombie Mythos.
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What's your favourite Perk-a-Cola?
Rule Britannia replied to Perk-a-Cola's topic in General Zombies Discussion
I very rarely buy a perk because I almost always die immediately after buying it. In any case, here are mine in order; 1. Juggernog - Always the first one that I buy, if I do at all. 2. Speed Cola - I rarely buy anything other than Juggernog. I usually end up with a rocket launcher or something from the box so this is usually my second. 3. Quick Revive - I usually end up being the one who has to revive everyone. 4. Double Tap - I don't even know how this works on Wii. I bought it once and it did nothing.
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