Repost EASIER TO READ Stadt Der Untoten

[MyLittleHellhound]

Sorry guys, but people wanted me to seperate into paragraphs, so i did. Here is the full story, hopefully more will come.

Stadt Der Untoten- THE FULL PART

•

o It had just been another day in the city, 1972. Sergeant Morton and his ragtag group of grunts were working at the border crossing station. It was an easy job, also a boring one. About a year ago, they were dumped on one of these jobs as a “relief”. Morton looked at his fellow soldiers. There was Pvt. Stewart. He was a tall, gangly fellow with a large British accent. Lazy but alert when needed be, he was someone you could count on. There was Pvt. Johnson. He was an ordinary person with an ordinary face. He was the one who did all the infiltrations and demolition. The third man in the squad was Pvt. Thomas. He was the group sniper, very quiet and cold. The last man in the squad was Pvt. Smith. Carrying a light machine gun with him at all times, he was deadly and could literally shred apart anything living or dead with the hail of bullets he unleashed upon his enemies.

o So, as Morton waved forward the next car in line, he thought to himself: “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen war in this country”. He yelled across the cars to the next booth, to Johnson. “Hey Johnson, it’s getting pretty boring around here isn’t it!?” Johnson shouted back: “Hell yes sir, I need to shoot something!” Morton glanced at the clock on his crowded and messy table. It read 3:00. His shift wasn’t over until 5. Looking over the massive lines of cars, it stretched all the way back to the city. “Sh*t” he muttered. He was going to be late. His son, Darren, was coming home for an hour at 4, he was on leave. Screw it. Time to go. He pulled open the booth door, handed the keys over to a nearby supervisor, and said :”I need to go take a crap so see you in a few minutes”. The Sergeant got into his car parked behind the restroom. While waiting for his buddies to sneak off their shift, he turned on the radio. “ *static* This is all news channel 680 news. I am Barbara Dunn here at a science laboratory where something seems to have gone wrong. Lots of police and firemen. They say no one survived…..wait they found a body. Oh my god it….something is coming out of the building, glowing, lots of sparks. There has been an outbreak of some sort….we don’t know what’s going on ….get over here John, get a shot of this………what are those things…….SH*T RUN RUN RUN!!!!!GET AWAY NOOOOOOOO *static*” Morton frowned. This couldn’t be good.

o His buddies piled in the car and they drove back to the city. A Huey roared its way through the air overhead as Morton approached the city. His radio crackled. “Morton, we need you and your squad here at the lab! We need to contain this! Hurry”. They arrived at the lab. It was a mess. A small barricade was surrounding the area around the building, crowded with policemen and news reporters. Dead bodies lay inside the barricade. Shouts echoed through the warm summer air. Morton saw his general and went to him. The general had a blood spatter on his shirt, and claw marks on his face. “Get over there Morton, get a gun, and line up at the barricade, we need to contain these things”. “Yes sir”. Morton went over and grabbed an M16 from the box, slapped a fresh clip into it, and lined up with his fellows. Everyone was staring at the thing crawling out of the building. It had a bloody lab coat on, decaying skin and exposed flesh, and scariest of all, yellow glowing eyes. A fat policeman whispered next to him, “what the f*ck is that thing?” Soon enough more burnt and decaying corpses stumbled out of the building with their heads lowered. Moaning sounds erupted from the building. A bullhorn sounded, making Morton jump. “HEY ARE YOU GUYS SURVIVORS!? GET A MEDIC OVER THERE!” A medic Morton knew from training camp hopped over the barricade and tried to reach for one of the standing things. It looked up, grabbed him, and tore his face apart; leaving a bloody mess that was unrecognizable. Morton was horrified.

o “Kill those f*ck nuts!” a soldier yelled. “FIRE” Morton raised his M16 to his shoulder, and fired short bursts into the corpses. They stumbled and black viscous liquid poured onto the bricks. Morton scored a direct hit, sending the arm twirling off onto the bricks. The thing just stood there, growling and twitching. “THEY WON’T DIE THEY WON’T DIE!!!!” a soldier yelled. As the minutes passed by, blood filled and violent, Morton watched as things poured out of the building into the small area that was contained. Many police and soldiers were pulled across the barricade screaming, and dragged into the bloody hoard. “Pull back” growled the general. He drove away. Morton ran back to the car, grabbing a few M16’s on the way. He dumped them in the trunk, shouted for his squad, and they piled in the car. Just before they left, Morton saw the barricade break down, the things pour out like a tide, and consume the remaining authorities and newscasters in the vicinity. Smith chuckled to himself, “looks like we’re on clean up duty again”. Morton silently agreed and drove through the panicked streets.

•

Morton swore under his breath as he swerved through the streets of the city. Sirens wailed all across as the outbreak spread to the economic block of the city, the offices and the headquarters. He took his eyes off the road for a second and looked back at his team. Johnson was twiddling his thumbs. Stewart was twitching and kept looking out the back of the car. Smith was quietly cackling to himself. Thomas, well he was Thomas. He sat there, cold, calculating - probably planning how to survive this mess. Morton looked back onto the road and parked on the driveway. He snapped his fingers. “Hey, we are gonna get through this, you hear me? We’ll destroy those things”. “They’re not things”, Thomas whispered. Morton was shocked, Thomas hardly ever spoke. “They’re called zombies”. Morton stared at him for a few moments, then climbed out of the car and released the trunk. He handed each man an M16 and prayed that each one would survive the onslaught. Sprinting through the door, he found a note on the table from his son. No time to read it now though, preparations were to be made. Stuffing it in his pocket, he directed each man to go down to the basement and grab some wooden boards from a leftover project. They then nailed them to each window and outside entry point. “Oh, I almost forgot, there are plenty of guns downstairs” Morton told them. So they all trooped downstairs and to the gun cabinet.

There were Thompsons, RPG’s, grenades, pistols, a katana, a Dragunov, an M60, a couple AK-47’s with flamethrowers, shotguns, and some revolvers. All with plenty of ammo. Morton grabbed a shotgun and his M16. He also grabbed dual revolvers. Smith grabbed the M60. Thomas excitedly reached for the Dragunov, whispering to himself, “You again! Never thought I’d see the day”. Stewart equipped the Thompson and finally, Johnson took some grenades, satchel charges, an AK-47, and an RPG. They set up upstairs on the main floor while Johnson and Thomas went up to the second floor. Time passed slowly within the house as night fell. A couple times, a person would run screaming past the house, or a police car would swerve its way through the street, sirens blaring. They could hear the zombies approaching, punctuated by moans, growling, or hissing. Suddenly, three people burst from the house across the street and ran towards the barricaded house. The man, woman, and teenager started to scream for help, as the zombies lumbered and sprinted towards them. The man pulled out a pistol and yelled at the top of his lungs, “GO GET HELP MARY!GO GET HELP!!!!!” He started to fire slugs at the zombies, but was overwhelmed within seconds. A few meters away, the woman and teenager were also caught and consumed. Blood dripped onto the asphalt. Morton was angry. Hell, he was furious. “HEY MAGGOT SACKS!” he roared.

The zombies looked at the house and assembled into a battalion. A battalion of flesh eating, disease ridden, flesh decaying zombies. They howled and shambled towards the group. Morton fired the first burst from his M16. The bullets whistled across and cut a trio of zombies apart. The next burst brought about four zombies to a halt as their heads were destroyed. Morton could hear the others firing also. “Stewart, Smith, you alright?” he asked. Stewart was at the **** please report this topic, post ****, firing from his Thompson. Smith was spraying bullets over the horde, smiling gleefully all the time. “Yes sir!” Stewart grimaced as a blast of heat and dirt shattered the window. “Johnson! What the F*CK are you doing you bastard! Damn well almost blew me apart!” Stewart yelled upstairs. Johnson replied, “Nothing like throwing a grenade and watching those limbs fly apart, hallelujah for explosives!” The zombies were slowly gaining ground as they climbed over fallen comrades and into deep craters on the lawn. Zombies had reached Stewart’s window and pulled away the boards, leaving nothing holding them back. Morton saw and tossed Stewart his shotgun. “Here, take this!” he offered. Stewart nodded and pumped it. *boom*, a zombie fell to the side with half its face blown away. “SH*T we need help up here!! Oh no…..Thomas take ‘em out! Morton we need some assistance!!!!”

Morton and Smith rushed up the stairs telling Stewart to take all the windows while they were gone. Morton arrived upstairs to find zombies swarming through the master bedroom. Apparently they knew how to climb! Johnson fired his AK-47 into the swarm, decapitating and tearing of limbs with a hail of bullets. Thomas crouched and started to fire at their legs. The zombies coated the walls with pus, blood, and rotten flesh. Just as Johnson put another clip into his AK, a zombie lunged forward and clawed Johnson across the face. He yelled and clutched his hands to his face, blood was pouring out. The soldier stumbled back and lost his balance, putting a bloody hand on the wall. Pulling out his pistol, he shot the zombie in the head, killing it instantly. “AAAAAH!!!NO NO NO HELPPP SARGE!” Stewart screamed. Morton rushed down and saw a horrible sight. Gore was splattered all over the **** please report this topic, post **** counter and floor (damn, that counter was new!), and it appeared that Stewart had been dragged out the window and eaten. “Sh*t, he was a good man.” Morton thought to himself. “We have to get out of here NOW!” he yelled. Johnson picked up his AK, primed his satchel charges, and dived out the window onto the front lawn, followed by Thomas, Smith, and Morton. They got into the car, and drove onto the street, hitting a few zombies on the way. Johnson detonated the satchel charges, and the house collapsed on itself. Johnson then leaned out the window and used his flamethrower to torch the house, leaving nothing but a charred mess. Smith set up the M60 on the smashed back window and fired into the remaining zombies, tearing off limbs and sending them back to the grave. Blood soaked the front lawn and the house, and many corpses were sticking out of the wreckage and on the lawn. They started to stir and twitch slightly. “Lets get the f*ck out of here Sarge.” howled Johnson, he was bleeding all over the seat. Morton acknowledged and drove away back into the city, while the smell of roasted flesh and blood filled the air in acrid smoke.

•

“Damn it damn it damn it” Morton muttered as he sped through the abandoned highway. “We need somewhere to bunker down, and find out what the hell has gone wrong with the world” Smith replied from the back seat. “Ok here’s the plan, we are going to fix Johnson up, then hustle to that weapons shop on Trelent Street, got it?” Morton planned. “Sh*t we got some company!” Smith yelled. Bullets whipped across the street and caught a horde of zombies standing near a skyscraper. They were ultimately ripped apart and turned into fountains of blood and gristle as the heavy caliber bullets struck them everywhere. Suddenly, another horde of zombies stumbled out of a building in front of them and sprinted towards them, leaving many a toe behind. Morton had no choice but to ram into them.

The result was terrific. Zombies bounced from the battered hood of the car and were flung up into the sky. Blood spattered the windshield. ‘I CANT SEEEEE!” Morton yelled. Blood was dripping all over the windshield, and an arm was caught in the wipers. The car turned down another street and slammed into a fountain in the middle of a courtyard. The front of the car crumpled against the cold stone of the fountains side. Smoke rose up through the hood and all fell silent. Morton kicked the door open, SPAS 12 raised to fire. “Clear” he spoke back to the others. They all got out, and primed their guns for the oncoming fight. “We need some place to defend, this isn’t exactly the best-“ Smith shouted as a zombie rushed him and he destroyed its head. Morton was about to reply when a zombie swung at him. He raised his shotgun in reply, stopping the arm in its tracks. The force behind the rotten arm jarred his own arm, numbing it. Morton fumbled and dropped the shotgun. “Sh*t” was all he could manage before the zombie slammed him backwards onto the ground. The zombie pounced on Morton and growled, preparing to feed.

“This is it” he thought. The yellow eyes, the scarred and decaying face, the drooling mouth filled with sharp teeth, it was all over. The zombie suddenly paused, eyes rolling backwards, and fell on its side. Thomas stood there with his smoking Dragunov, and lent him a hand. “Thanks, we definitely have to get out of here” Morton observed. All across the courtyard, zombies were running full pelt at the group of soldiers, out of buildings, windows, streets, and alleyways. Thomas calmly raised his scope to his eagle eye, and fired three shots in quick succession. *crack* *crack* *crack* went his sniper rifle, hitting two zombies in the head, another in the leg, and one in the arm. They moaned and stumbled as black blood spurted out onto the cold concrete. Morton gathered up the group and led them through an alleyway. “C’mon, we need to get to that damn hospital, find some medical supplies, and get the hell out of the city”. The ragtag group came to the hospital. “In here” Smith yelled as he pulled off a couple shots back at the raging zombies. They raced up the stairs, and into the elevator. Blood, and god knows what else, was smeared across the buttons and up through the elevator ceiling. They all piled in, and went to the 12th floor.

The elevator music played merrily through the speakers. “What is this song?” Morton wondered. “Ah yes, its Wedding Dress, by Taeyang.” Finally, they reached the twelfth floor. A man with a pistol jumped out from behind the corner with his teeth bared. “Who the hell are y’all?” he asked. Morton held up his hand, “We are survivors, I am Morton, this is Smith, this is Thomas, and my friend Johnson needs medical attention”. “Ok, I have medical supplies” the man said. “By the way, my name is Lau, Ollie Lau”. Morton pondered as Johnson was fixed up. What had caused this apocalypse? And where was his son? Smith padded over to the window and looked outside. “Looks like the party’s back on guys, we got more company”. Morton readied himself yet again.

The steady pounding of Smith’s M60 rattled Morton’s teeth as he surveyed the group of zombies. NAY! They were a battalion! He drew out his M16 and fired short burst into the zombies. Many fell dead, but many more got through the front door and up the stairs. Howls echoed up the stairwell. Morton and Smith steadied themselves against the wall as zombies rushed up to meet them. Smith and Morton quickly ran out of ammunition as the bullets burned through the zombies like a match to a can of gasoline. Smith pulled out a cleaver with a *shrring*. A zombie dressed in a bloody and tattered tuxedo came to him as he sliced the freaking head right off that damn body. “F*ck, there’s too many to kill!” Smith yelled. Thomas directed everyone up the stairs to the helicopter as the zombies overwhelmed Ollie. Ollie took out a weird looking gun with two large barrels. He fired it, and the zombies flew away as a blast of air engulfed them. “F*CK YAA” he whooped. Morton held the stairs with Ollie while the others prepped the helicopter. Once they were all on, the helicopter started to lift off. Suddenly, a zombie hopped over the edge of the roof, and grabbed Johnson. Johnson yelled “GET OFF YOU F*CKING MA-“ he didn’t get to finish. Johnson disappeared over the edge of the helicopter and back onto the roof. He pulled out a pistol and shot the zombie, brain matter splattering all over the helicopter pad. Soon, more zombies sprinted over the roof and stairwell, and overwhelmed Johnson. The helicopter was right over the action. Smith yelled “WE HAVE TO GO BACK FOR HIM!” “NO! Its too dangerous, and he’s already dead. He died and took many with him” Morton roared. Morton was pissed. Another one dead, and it was Johnson! Ollie sidled over to him. “I rigged the place to blow” he whispered. He gave Morton the detonator, who gave it to Smith. Smith was staring into the sky, and as he pressed the detonator, he said, “for Johnson and Stewart”. The hospital exploded, debris flying everywhere. A shockwave destroyed nearby buildings and knocked down lamps. Cars flipped over, and smoke rose in the air. The hospital was a burning pile of concrete. Nothing was left. Morton thought “how bad is this thing gonna get?”. The helicopter weaved its way through the desolate city.

o

Above the city, the chopper roared on towards its destination. Four beraggled and war torn men sat in the compartment of the chopper, one piloting. “I can’t believe it, we lost two good men”. Smith whispered. He cradled his M60 in his arms. Ollie turned from the pilot’s seat, looked back at Morton, and looked into his eyes. “I’m gonna tell you something about myself, that no one else has to know”. Morton was puzzled. Ollie seemed like a mysterious guy, but trustworthy.He did save their lives back at the hospital. “Go ahead”. “Okay”, Ollie told him,” I’ve developed super weapons that I stole from the Germans, way back when. They are superb-“ “Hey wait a moment, who the f*ck are you? You go around, stealing plans from the long dead Nazis and stuff like that?” Morton inquired. Ollie turned back and put his eyes to the sky. “Lets just say I was…………a sneaky bastard, and keep it that way ok?” “Yeah, got it” Morton said.

The chopper flew through the night and by early morning, they had arrived at Trelent Street Weapon Shop. Morton hopped out of the hovering craft with Smith. Thomas stayed on the chopper to cover them with the sniper rifle. Morton cruched over fallen debris and gravel from the city that was once living. A pile of wreckage stirred and a zombie crawled out, weeping blood and all that jazz. Smith calmly walked up to it, and slit its throat. Blood spurted out onto Smith’s boots and the concrete as the zombie bled dry. Morton prised open the door of the shop. “Sh*t” Morton cursed. The shop was a mess. Stray parts and attachments for guns littered the floor. The wall behind the counter was soaked with blood, a man with a spike driven through his neck sitting pinned against the wall. Morton snapped back to state of mind. “Smith, gather up that ammunition and I’ll go look for the guns”. Morton saw a dusty one way mirror. That’s were they kept all the “special” stuff, and the “good” stuff. Morton shot the locks with his pistol, and went inside. He liked what he saw, A LOT. Morton took the Galil, the Napalm, hell, he took everything he could carry. His radio crackled. “Yo Morton this is Ollie. We got a whole mob coming down on you guys, get the f*ck out of there!”

Morton shouted to Smith, who came running with boxes of ammo in his arms. They ran out together, where the chopper was waiting to take off. Ollie was clutching the acclerator, ready to go. It all happened in a blur. Getting on the chopper, chooper going fast, swerving past buildings, hanging on for dear life. It was all good for Morton until he fell out. He landed with a yell on the hot tarmac of a city building. Damn, only dual revolvers, not a lot of ammo. The zombies rushed him as he backed away, firing into the small crowd. Zombies received through the head, which exploded into little bits. Others lost their legs, and fell beneath the many rotting boots and feet. Eventually, the zombies started to pile up, and with that came the problem of roof space. Zombies pushed eachother off the roof in order to get a shot a the fresh juicy brains. They fell with a splat on the pavement below, and mass of crushed bone and blood. Morton ran out of ammo. “Sh*t, looks like I’m gonna jump.” , he realized. Morton leaped onto the next building, and scrabbled up onto the gravel rooftop. Some zombies, the die hards, tried to jump, but didn’t make it. Many fell down the gap, bouncing from one side to the other, and being crushed at the bottom. “We are gonna swing by again for you, don’t worry.” Ollie said through the radio. Morton acknowleged and took a grenade from his belt. He then noticed he had a little flask of napalm! Morton took the nampalm, and threw it all onto the dry wood on the rooftop of the building the zombies were on. He took out a cigarerette, lighted it, and flicked it onto the wood. The wood burst into flames, consuming the zombies in an inferno. They danced around on fire, and eventually burned to a crisp. The chopper swung by and Morton grabbed the rail, as the zombies baked.

“You alright?” Ollie asked. “Yeah, its all good. Where to next?” Morton replied. Ollie looked at him. “We shouldn’t go to the lab, it’s too dangerous. I know how these things were created.” Ollie told him. “They’ve been infected with 115, it’s a super heavy element that the Germans were experimenting with in World War 2”. Morton was stumped.”But how does that explain the f*ckheads down below?” “Well, all these zombies are the dead bodies of soldiers, and civilians alike. There must have been someone who brought the element here, because none of it should have landed where we are now”Ollie concluded. Suddenly, the chopper started to beep. Ollie quickly looked at the controls, before yelling, “WE ARE GOING DOWNNNNN”. Morton buckled in and braced just before everything went black.

“Ughhhhhhhh” Morton thought. His head was pounding, and his leg felt crushed. Gunshots echoed through his head. Smith shook his shoulder. “Hey, you gotta be able to move, they are charging us and we can’t hold ‘em for much longer!” Morton got up, painfully, and took an offered M16. He turned it on to full auto. Things were gonna get messy. Ollie was holding off a horde of zombies with an odd looking psitol. He shot it, and green energy destroyed the zombie in a red mist. Morton took aim and decimated five more, and pulled out his combat knife as they got closer. In drug fuelled slow motion, Morton saw everything. The three zombies were no match for his speed. Morton shoved the blade inot the nearest stomach, pulled it out, and stabbed it in the back of the same zombie. He turned the zombie around, using it as a shield as the undead comrades clawed their own. The zombie was ripped apart by the others, even if it was by accident. Morton then shot the other two with his M16, sending them down with bullets lodged in their rotten chests. Smith on the other hand, wasn’t faring to well. He was mowing them down with the M60, but it soon ran out of ammo. He had no time to reload as a trio of zombies lunged at him. They bore down on him with sharp teeth and a drooling mouth as he watched, horrified.

Morton rammed the zombie nearest with his shoulder, and stabbed one other. The last zombie clawed down his arm, and a deep gash opened up. “GRAAAAGH!” Morton yelled in surprise. Smith took a pistol and shot the zombie several times before it fell down, dead once again. Morton looked around quickly. He recognized this street. There were still bloodstains on the cobblestone! “Guys, we are at the heart of this mayhem!” he yelled. Smith repled, “what do you mean?” “I mean, dumbass, that we are at the finale, the LAB!!!!!!!!!!!!” Morton exclaimed. Morton gathered up the group, and told them where they were. Ollie was not surprised. “Fate has brought us here Morton, this event is much bigger than it seems.” “What the f*ck are you on old man? This is just a screw up from one of the biggest labs in the world!” Morton reasoned. Ollie just gave him a sad look, and cleared the wreckage with his gun. “C’mon, there are too many zombies out there, we need to find shelter!” Ollie told the team. “The lab isn’t a good idea, but he is right” Smith said. Thomas covered them with his sniper rifle while everyone got inside and barricaded up the double doors. “Outta the frying pan, and into the fire, F*CK” Morton though before entering the abyss that was his doom., he had saved a

Morton and his squad crept quietly through the wrecked and burning lab. Flames roared in the basement. Blueprints and loose paper lay scattered across the blood stained tiles of the lobby. “Ok, spread out, and watch for those damn nuts that keep jumping at us” Morton ordered. Smith walked over to the front desk and checked the map. “Ok, Sarge, I suggest that we stay together, because this is a very confusing map”. “Let’s go then, single file.” Morton directed. The team crept down a dark and decrepit hallway with flickering lights. They came to a blasted open room, filled with computers. There were a couple windows and a large hole in the wall made from a huge explosion. The hole opened up into a courtyard. “Thomas, get over to that hole in the wall, make sure nothing comes through. Smith, cover the windows, in case something comes through it. Ollie and I will look into those computers and blueprints.” The team snapped into action. Ollie booted up one of the computers. It beeped slowly, and a light filled the screen. The screen read-“Now accessing PROJECT REBEL…………authorized” A number of files popped up. Morton looked around nervously, usually; the zombies didn’t wait this much to attack them. Ollie started to write things down from the files. He muttered something, hit himself on the head, and pulled out a USB. He plugged it in and started to download the files.

Morton was waiting for something; he didn’t know what, just something. Suddenly, a howl went up all across the building. Morton jumped, and primed his guns. Ollie also pulled out his gun. “Here they are, as usual, just have to crash the party eh?” Smith joked. Zombies ran down the corridor with rotten feet slapping the tiles. Morton took aim with his battered M16 and fired, taking two or three zombies at a time. Bodies piled up in the flickering hallway. Smith’s machine gun chattered away, and Thomas’s sniper rifle cracked. Brain matter splattered the walls and zombie limbs littered the floor. “Sh*t, we’re getting overwhelmed here!” Smith yelled. Zombies were crawling over each other to get to his fresh brains. Thomas rushed forward from the hole to help with the entrance. “Wait, it’s at %97 percent! Can we hold for 5 more minutes!?” Ollie yelled. The rest of the team kept firing. They were all running low on ammo. “Ok, it’s done! Lets goooooo!” Ollie told them. The team backed out into the courtyard, firing continuously. Thomas was the last to back out. His Dragunov cracked and zombies fell to the ground. A swipe caught his Dragunov’s stock, which tumbled to the ground. Thomas pulled out his sidearm, but it was too late. The zombies dragged him into the hole, screaming. Morton ran up and tried to kill them, but he couldn’t get a clear shot. “HELP MEEEE, PLEASE!!!” Thomas screamed. Morton was furious, Thomas was a goner, and there was no way that they could save him. Thomas disappeared in a bloody fray. The zombies started to feed. Crunching and ripping sounds filled the night sky. “F*ck, another one gone, well we can give him a good f*cking send off, take some of those bastards with him. Smith, throw in those charges!” Morton commanded. Smith threw the explosives into the hole. Morton dived behind a pile of boxes. The explosions shook his teeth, and made the ground quake. Heat broiled over him. Morton dared to look up over the boxes. A steaming crater and charred zombie was the result. The group gathered up and left. Morton looked back, remembering those times he had saved all of their lives.

Read the updates at viewtopic.php?f=14&t=9372

By Ollie Lau

GRADE 8

[ninezerowill]

Very well done. It was a great read. [brains]

[perfectlemonade]

I can't finish this right now, but I really like it so far! Loved the news scene at the beginning, felt very real.

Great job, hellhound! [brains] for you!