~Inception~ Season 3: Genesis

[Undead]

Alright CoDz, it's officially time to make a comeback bigger than ever and would like the first and foremost thank all particpants once again for the strong line up to making this what it is and we all encourage you, the members of CoDz, to follow along with us! Just because you aren't in it, doesn't mean you can be apart of it! Which, is why we all voted to keep this right here at CoDz for a whole new start for all.

Also, we encourage any of those who are unfamilar with the story so far to read through Seasons 1 & 2 as we develop the next season:

Season 1

Season 2: Separation

Interested? Looking to join? Well, we admire that. Please take the time to review the FAQ before asking any questions. Also know we are limited on spaces, so be sure to check for available spaces before filling out a profile. If you have further questions, send them to me via PM as this thread is ONLY for RP entries.

HOW TO APPLY:

Is it too late for me to join?

- The RP allows for any newcomers to join at any given time as we will be able to fit your character in accordingly. However, there ARE limited spots available to prevent excessive amounts of characters and/or confusion. If there is room available, you must fill out a profile in the proper format and send it via PM to Undead xP. If there is no room available, I apologize in advance and will notify you if

a spot becomes available. Meanwhile, feel free to follow along with us.

Does it matter what year/time I start?

- Any character is welcome to start their character(s) at any given time as long as they are aware of time zone of everyone else and do not create a paradox with others. Your characters my have “visions” or “reflections” of the past or future in any manner as long as it does not conflict with the original storyline or others developing storyline. Collaboration via Skype chat is encouraged for any such events.

What should I be aware of before starting/when playing?

- One thing you should always keep in mind is the one main rule; NO conflicts with the actual main zombies storyline. What this means is your character/story can’t meet and fight along side of existing zombies characters from the actual game for example. However, if your story goes along the side of the storyline, or references it, and does not create any conflicts, you are allowed to do so. Any specifics you may be unsure of, collaboration and clarification via Skype chat is recommended. Other than that, just be sure to be aware and follow along with others entries as ALL players reflect the general layout of the story.

What is going on in the story so far?

- Reading Seasons 1 and 2 are encouraged to catch up on the story so far if you are needing ideas or wish to participate or reading along. Otherwise, asking current players is also ideal if looking for specific info that has already happened. Even though “Season 3” is more of a “fresh start”, past events will be referenced, and existing characters will likely continue from the story so far.

What kind of powers am I allowed to have?

- Ideas for unique and interesting abilities are encouraged for new players, however what ever you desire your character to have is acceptable. The only rule on abilities is no “godmodding”. Meaning, no powers that make your character invincible or indestructible and/or automatically cancel out others abilities. This is simply to keep things fair and somewhat realistic. Weaknesses to powers is also highly recommended as “what goes up, must come down” eventually. In addition to that, all characters are created equal. Meaning, no immortal gods or beings as characters, you are mortal like the rest of us.

Character Name:

Gender:

Age:

Appearance:

Country of Origin:

Abilities:

Bio:

*Misc:

*Optional.

THE CAST:

Undead xP:

Theme: "Eyes on Fire" Blue Foundation

Full bio:

Character Name: Andrzej (or Andrew) Demkowicz (pronounced Dem-co-its, or in polish Dem-co-vich)

Age:25

Gender: Male

Country of Origin: Poland, but moved to U.S. at 3 years old

Appearance: Short, brown hair, brown eyes, medium build. Average height

Bio: Moved to America at age 3, and later joined the U.S. army on the western front. He was captured later in the war, and experimented on.

Abilities: Power is time/space travel (the human die glocke) Excels in hand to hand combat, fencing, and is accurate with light guns. Can also climb to an extent. Knows English, German, and Polish.

*Misc: Does not speak with a polish accent, and is quieter than the others.

Rissole25:

Full bio:

Character Name: Tia Rydia

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Country of Origin: Australia

Appearance: Average Height & Weight. Long Blue-Dyed Curly Hair. Blue Eyes, Pink Armless Frock. Black Ballet Flats. White Socks.

Bio: Tia (Tee-r, like Tear) Rydia (Ride-e-r) is a well-spoken young woman. A timid girl at first, but once you get to know her, she is a cheerful girl!

As a young child, Tia was bullied because of her name. Because it sounded so close to the word ‘tear’, she was usually bullied until she cried. This even continued into her ballet, though the adults cheered as opposed the kids jeers. This led to her heart strengthening, and in turn, she willed herself not to cry anymore. From this, she eventually forgot how to cry, even if she really wanted too.

Tia wants to travel the world and see all she can see. She is a curious explorer, sometimes not realizing the danger that can be in front of her. She is a bit hasty with her actions occasionally, which can lead to trouble at times. She is rather timid, so she gets frightened easily, but she will speak her mind and thoughts on something, even if she doesn’t like it.

Because Tia’s father disappeared at a young age, she was sent to live with her grandparents. She liked them, but at the age of 16, she moved out and stayed at the local pub. Her grandparents did not believe her dream of travelling, and she had to get away from them.

Her job at the pub got her enough money to secure a small shop, which she turned into a successful pawn shop.

She lives in a quiet town in New South Wales, Australia. Running the local pawn shop, she sees some interesting items people bring in from time to time, some even claiming they are artifacts.

Abilities: Healer: Tia must be in close proximity, touching/nearly touching the person she is healing. The wound itself depends on how long the healing process will take, and how much of Tia’s energy is drained.

Pain Inducement: In very rare circumstances, Tia will go into a trance like state. While touching the person, Tia will suck the life out of the being. Continued exposure will result in death.

Misc: Tia always puts others first, and tries to help those who need it. She does not like to fight, but carries a combat rod of some form to help her out. She also has her Pain Inducement power, but she does not like to use it. Even if she did, she does not know how to activate it nor control it.

She has formed a close friendship with Kasady after being separated from the group with her in Berlin. She is friendly with everyone else. At one point, she had possible feelings for Alex but she does not know how she feels now.

She is beginning to regain her memories slowly, and find out the truth about her father and the locket.

Full bio:

Character Name: Raolf Chasings “Chase”

Gender: Male

Age: 19

Appearance: Short Dark Brown Scruffy Hair. Red, White & Blue Checkered Shirt w/ Hood. Plain Green Shirt underneath. Blue Jeans. Black and White Sneakers.

http://eshop.mexx.ca/object/ImageServer ... E6VKBzBI8U

^^Basically what his outfit looks like, except green shirt, an attached hood, blue jeans. He looks like that as well, except without facial hair, and his hair is like Roxa's from Kingdom Hearts, except dark brown.

Country of Origin: America

Abilities: Plant Manipulation

Bio: Raolf (Ray-olf) Chasings (Chase-ings) was left an orphan after his parents died in a car accident. Growing up in multiple foster homes, he had a rough up-bringing. Eventually moving into a small apartment by himself, he was usually left to his own devices. And so, this resulted in him getting in trouble at school a lot, especially when he skipped. He felt alone, except with Jessica. She was his best friend, the one who understood him, the one he clicked with. Everything just felt right with her, and he’d do anything for her.

Apart from those things, he seemed like your typical teenage boy. That was, till the missiles hit two years ago.

Being at school when it happened, he was shocked. After the initial earthquakes, him and Jessica went to check on their own homes. When Raolf returned to his apartment, he was shocked, but not saddened to see a pit of lava had replaced it. Having nothing sentiment in it, he made his way to Jessica’s house. He was relieved to find it still standing, but shocked to see that she or her family were not there. All their belongings were there as well, as if nothing had occurred. Like they had vanished.

Not knowing whether she was alive or not, he set out in search of her, vowing no one would stand in his way.

*Misc: He cannot conjure plant-life or anything of the sort, so his powers don’t work well in places with no vegetation.

Being his ability lies in Plant Manipulation, it’s weakness is in Fire. Water however seems to aide his power.

He is only on his own side (as of now), neither good nor bad.

His weapon of choice is his fists, using brass knuckles or something similar to aid him.

Is calm and collected most of the time.

He likes/prefers to be called Chase.

XAvengedLullabyX:

Full Bio:

Character Name: Cici Dalca

Gender: Female

Age: 22

Appearance: Around 5’6”, light skin, thin yet a bit curvy around the hips, chocolate-brown, slightly curly hair that ends almost half way down her back, deep lime green eyes with a caramel like color speckled over

Country of Origin: Born in Romania but was moved to America when she was nine

Abilities: Astral projection

Bio: Cici was born and raised until she was nine in Romania. Her father, a cruel and vindictive man, forced their family to move to the United States that same year for “business”, what his business was Cici couldn’t recall. They moved to Nevada later that year.

     Miraculously, Cici had found a safe spot before the rockets had hit earth, surviving the impact. Every dream she then had was worse than before, filled with destruction and strange creatures. She used what she saw to try and locate other survivors, to know she was not alone anymore.

*Misc: Never removes the necklace from her father (regardless of animosity towards him), as well as a pair of bright yellow combat boots of unknown origin; has a bit of an attitude problem, stemming from hatred harbored against her father.

MegaAfroMan:

Full bio:

Character Name: Was once, Erich Meier

Model type 422B Bio-Robotic Combat-System

Age: Roughly 22 at time of experiment.

Gender: Male

Country of Origin: Germany

Appearance: 6'11" Massive. At one time his paint and synthetic converings gave him the appearance of the "perfect race" short blond hair, blue eyes, and a strong frame, however years of wear and tear and neglect have taken its toll. His eyes have greyed to just barely show a tint of blue, his skin has become pale, almost to a point of ridiculousness, and in some spots violent looking gashes can be seen exposing spots of his metallic frame. One looking at him would be able to instantly tell he was meant to look human at one time, but would never mistake him for a human. This hulking metallic monster doesn't often leave people alive long enough to look at him though...

Bio: Erich was born into WWI Germany, and grew up in a very tough life, as a boy he began to idolize the Nazi party as soon as it rose, it seemed a beacon of hope, some wondrous light at the end of this dark tunnel. Alas he was born with a rare genetic condition that caused his body to be very fragile and easily damaged. He spent a good amount of his life in the hospital, and began to grow interested in the equipment around him. It was definitely very crude, but he still learned.

At the age of 18 Erich was top of his class in bioscience, and he got an offer he thought he could never refuse. He was offered to join the leading scientific minds of the Era to help rebuild the fatherland. Finally he could help the country, and be the light he saw in his childhood!

He accepted immediately and they began work on attempting to create super-soldiers. Messing with the biology proved quite futile, so the others began to grow tired of Erich. Still wrapped in his own fantasy he didn't even see it coming. The fabled protege of bio-science, was going to help them find a different route towards the completion of their super-soldier program...

Abilities: Erich is a cyborg. He is mostly a robot of humanoid appearance, although being powered by computers and hydraulics has its advantages over neurons and muscles. Pain is no longer a part of him, neither are most of his biological functions. Although some of biological self remains, his skeletal structure is completely mechanical. He does however still have a brain. In a way. The computers that guide his memory and logic are crossed and mixed with his biological brain, making them an inseparable single organ.

*Misc: After the events of the original story line he has since entered a low power hibernation state awaiting reactivation, what will trigger it is unknown at this point. Nor is much known of his psychological state anymore, he was once separated from controlling his own "body", but then after regaining control he became vicious and cruel, however newer traumas may have created even more fractures in whatever remains of his mind. And as always he is a little groggy and slow after being booted up.

Faust:

Full bio:

Character Name: Sissy (Crystal Sawyer)

Age: Possibly Mid-Twenties

Gender: Female

Country of Origin: America

Appearance:

Athletic, yet endowed form. Green eyes contrast her short black hair. A black mark under her left eye identifies her in addition to two long scars that pan the length of her dimples before dropping down her face to her neck before eventually reaching her midriff. (Suspected self-inflicted)

Her pink scars stand out against her tan face, which grows paler the further down her body you go before going from a wheat color to waxy pale around her stomach.

Always wears an iron heart-shaped charm necklace around her neck with a triquetra on it.

Bio:

An odd mutation in her DNA has given her the blessing of being able to survive the radiation 115 emits after the missiles struck, yet she has proven far from immune from its effects. Originally the changes were subtle, yet over time distinct variations in her temperament began to emerge.

Her memory has begun to fade in a unique form of dementia praecox. Only bits and pieces of her memory remain, and even that is fuzzy at best to remember. The only remaining tie she has to a life not her own is a locket that hangs from her neck at all times. Despite constant attempts to convince herself that she is no longer the girl she once was, she could never bring to dispose of the adornment. Somewhere deep inside her, a lost soul remembers the significance of that locket, and screams out against her. Part of her knows that the moment she loses it is the moment she loses any ties to who she once was and forever loses herself to her new persona.

Her condition is ever-worsening, leading to increases in aggression, libido, and temporary schizophrenic outbursts that transcend her perception of reality, causing her to question just how much of what she remembers is even real. She is currently in the company of a detachment of Marines who are still alive after the missiles fell, though the terms of her being there are, again, questionable due to her condition.

Abilities: Prone to psychotic episodes that seem to transcend her own physical abilities. Noticeable influence over the undead.

*Misc:

Her degrading mental state results in her mental “trips” to become more and more violent and realistic in their nature.

Her personality is highly unpredictable, often shifting from high points of aggression to moments of dependency and the need for intimate contact. Possibly as a result of neurological decay creating incorrect responses to certain endorphins.

Believes she has a unique ability to “speak” with the undead.

Theme: "Make Some Noise" -Beastie Boys

Full bio:

Character Name: Jason Chaser

Gender: Male

Age: 29 Years Old

Appearance: Auburn Hair, 5’ 9” with full gear on. Brown eyes frequently hidden behind real-time display goggles. Rugged beard is typically wrapped in a keffiyeh during operations to protect identity. Wears a tactical harness over worn civilian clothing.

Country of Origin: America

Abilities: Understanding of future technology allows him to exploit most electronic and mechanical devices.

Bio:

Empowered by tales of his grandfather’s involvement in Marine Recon units in Vietnam, Jason pressed himself at a young age to work up his physical abilities and become a part of something greater than himself. He later signed onto a CIA undergraduate program, allowing him to pass through college and assist in operations during the off seasons.

When he had finally finished his education and (just barely) passed his physical evaluation, he was deployed as an undercover mercenary within a Hungarian mercenary group. His mission was to work his way up until he could gain access to drones programmed by the mercs and attempt to dismantle them to find the place of origin from which the illegal drones were being produced.

Recently however, the CIA has gone to great lengths to pull him from the field and rendezvous with JSOC forces within Germany for a special assignment.

*Misc:

Solar powered GPS, communications, and internet connectivity largely useless without service.

Though he is a trained soldier, his combat methods could be seen as unconventional

Napoleon Complex leaves him full of fight and energy, but is largely arrogant.

MyLittleHellhound:

Full bio:

Character Name: Ji Eun

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Country of Origin: South Korea

Appearance:

Long Black Hair, fair skin, slim, average height

Bio:

I was born in South Korea, Seoul. My mother stayed, while my father traveled all over the world. My sister and I went with him, we were very outdoors y girls. I had a good childhood, both my parents loved eachother, and loved me and my sister. We had many friends, and I sang very well. Dancing? Not so much. I did alot of house chores, cooking, cleaning, the usual. I also expressed an interest in biology, following my father's footsteps. He was the best biologist, possibly in South Korea. One day a letter arrived, and my father was elated. He would be studying life in the forests far far away, in Russia. We had never gone outside the country. He took the job, and took me as well. My sister and my mother stayed behind.

My father was doing some research nearby when the meteor struck, and he went to investigate, being a biologist. He took me along for the ride, so I was staying in the village. Being curious, I escaped out of the village's caretaker when my father went and did not come back. There, I found a strange flag, a red outline with a white circle, and an ancient symbol inside the circle. I knew it was the Nazi's flag. I touched the sizzling meteor beside it, and it....something coursed through me. I could feel it. It energized me, made me feel....different.

My father disappeared, and I was not sure where he went. My abilities allowed me to sing even higher than before, exploding things or causing them to shrivel and die. But I could also provide life to them. One day, a man in a black uniform came for me. He was accompanied by three soldiers, all grinning. He said we would have a little fun together. I knew I was in trouble when they pointed their guns at me, so I sang high. Really high. Their eyes bled, and exploded. Their ears wobbled and bled too. Their heads, well, they imploded, showering brain and gristle. Then they took me in my sleep. And I woke up at the facility. For 2 days, I could not escape, but then with the help of a few others, I did. I've been hiding ever since.

Abilities: Super Sonics

*Misc: Friendly Nature, Not very bold Normal Outfit- sweater and a medium black skirt. Knows Korean, English.

Full bio:

Character Name: Shizune Ikezawa

Gender: Female

Age: 19

Appearance: Shizune is slightly below average height, with long black-purple hair that covers one half of her face. The side of her face covered is decorated with a white scar that travels down her hairline, then through her cheek and ends at her ribs. Her eyes are also a deep grey purple.

Country of Origin: Japan

Abilities: Unknown

Bio: As a child growing up in Japan, Shizune was a very bright and active girl. She participated in sports, somewhat, and brought home good grades. She was known in middle and high school to be strong willed and a fearsome task master as well as a skilled manipulator, a fair and just class representative. This, however, all changed when the missiles came streaking down. Japan, and more specifically, the small city she grew up in, was devastated. Both of her parents were at work when the missile hit and they were instantly obliterated, her world jumbled in an instant. Being the smart girl she was, Shizune survived in a small shelter she had found and reinforced. In this isolated space, the girl she once was disappeared. She became quite reclusive and timid, and that brightness disappeared. She is very jumpy and does not like to be with others most of the time. When the zombies began to appear, her weapons of choice were two, small knives and a handgun if necessary. The 115 has also affected her. She has high bursts of speed which take up her energy, so she needs to rest. This trait has helped her scavenge for food and supplies in the apocalypse. Until someone she trusts finds her, she will continue to be alone.

Misc: She speaks softly and seems to shy away from almost any human contact or interaction, so used to being alone. She is very nervous most of the time as well. Reclusive and timid, she is more a lone wolf than a group member.

Tac:

Full bio:

Character Name: Gregory Zaytsev (zite-zev)

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Appearance: Large muscles. Sizing in at 6 feet and 2 inches tall in body size from working the farms and short military training. Short brown hair, green eyes.

Country of Origin: Russia

Abilities: N/A at this time

Bio: The year was 1925 when I was born. In the small Russian town of Dityatki, my mother, Agnessa, and father, Dimitri, both 16 years of age at the time, had to deliver the news of an accidental child to their parents. To live the life they wanted, together and in-love, they were forced to run away from the oppressive actions of their parents, as they wanted an abortion to be performed. After taking multiple trains across the country, they arrived in Moscow and gave birth to me, living day-to-day, scrapping for food at every chance.

In 1939, foreseeing the war inside Russian territory becoming too dangerous to raise a child, my mother and father told me that we would be moving to America. We moved to White Bluffs, Washington, and I was taught the tricks of the trade in regards to farming. In a very short period of time, I had become an expert and could run the farm by myself, making it a good time for my father to leave for the war. But unfortunately, in March of 1943, we received a note that we would be evicted for the creation of the Hanford Works Atomic Energy Plant and the government would seize all of our land in as little as three days time.

With my father at war, my mother and I started a new farm in the town of Lime Springs, Iowa. I wrote my father often and he told me all about the year he spent in basic training, but after subsequent years of no responses, I gave up on trying. By this time, my mother and I assumed he had been killed in battle, making me look up to this man even more for showing such devotion to his country.

floofy55:

Full bio:

Name: Dempsey (first name lost to time)

Age: 106 (appears 34 due to manipulation of his own body)

Gender: Male

Country of Origin: Canada

Appearance: Slim build, shoulder length black hair, left eye aglow with the golden light of 115, black tee, camo cargo pants, black boots.

Bio: I'll tell you what I remember, which isn't all that much.

I remember a bad childhood, deemed insane and shipped into an asylum from a young age. From there came my first, and at the time, only friend. A Voice in my head. It comforted me, kept me company, and drove me to kill.

It later revealed itself for the demonic entity it once was, leaving in the process. I don't know what became of it, and wish I could forget it.

It left scars on me that will never heal. It's influence poisons me to this day. Psychopathic, sadistic, and cold-blooded, these are what it has crafted me to be.

It also left one truly defining scar. I can manipulate organic material to my will, most often human flesh and bone.

I also remember a group of people. Rag-tag mutants like myself. Most a product of experimentation. Some claim my abilities come from it as well, but I know they came from that god damn voice.

There was the know-it-all army chick who I never got to kill,

An Asian woman who always tried to get too close,

A teleporter who spent more time unconscious than he did awake,

A "sentient" war machine,

Some guy with swords I never bothered learning the name of,

A God-figure who didn't deserve the power he had,

And Tia.

Her image stayed burned in my mind throughout the century. Her blue died hair and the way it's curls bounced, her eyes, blue as the clearest lakes, her face, a pristine beauty to which no other could compare.

As much as it pained me to leave her behind I eventually abandoned the band of "heroes" after we had been split up by teleportation.

Well, as much as being taken as a prisoner of war allowed you to "abandon" people.

I was flung into a German concentration camp, an promptly slaughtered all Nazi's there. From there, I decided to make a game of it, seeing how many of these infernal places I could wipe out before they killed me. I lived for the slaughter, and this seemed a fitting existence, constantly locked in battle with forces that far outnumbered me.

Eventually World War 2 ended, and I traveled around the world to join any conflicts happening n the world. The Vietnam war various civil wars, the War in Afganistan, I didn't fight for either side, I simply fought to fight. To sate this eternal bloodlust Voice had cursed me with.

In 2017, the war between North and South Korea re-erupted, for political reasons I still don't understand. I fought there before returning to Europe, specifically Paris, taking a well-earned break from slaughter. Before my flight landed, however, we heard a massive explosion and our plane crashed. I was the only one left alive, as I often am in my life.

Whatever the fuck happened, the world around me changed, almost instantaneously. Earth had become a different planet altogether. Nothing was left alive, it was covered in magma, and zombies infested the place. I haven't seen a living soul yet.

Abilities: Organic Distortion

Theme: "Biological Warfare" - Dethklok

Electric Jesus:

Full bio:

Character Name:

Prisoner No. 6570534.

Christian Name: Unknown. 

Gender: Male.

Age: late fifties

Appearance: Tall, broad build, A Moderately long grating facial hair naturally he looks worn and aged, as he is, you know, an old prison escapee. He wears sunglasses to hide his identity. He also wears a long black leather coat, black pants, and large black boots. The best he wears beneath his coat holsters his weapons to his chest. He often smokes cigars.

Country of Origin: USA

Abilities: Can hear "a voice." (explained in bio.) deep spirituality and no mercy.

Bio: Prisoner 6570534 was Arrested and charged with the murder of seventeen different men. He only killed men; his one rule was not to kill women or children. In his eyes he was ridding the world of vermin; he never harmed the truly pure or innocent. His apparent lack of human compassion did not excuse him from his crimes. He was sentenced to 25 years to life imprisonment. His only real problem with this situation was the lack of men to indulge in the death of.

Life in "the hoag" maximum security prison was not as bad for him as it would have been for others, for obvious reasons. However, it did get rather boring after every inch of wall had been taken up by his illustrated fantasies about the brutal deaths of dozens (perhaps even hundreds) of the anonymous, cancerous "men" that plagued the earth.

One day began like any other. He was led at the point of half a dozen guns to the mess hall, where he had another of his daily feasts, consisting of the usual foul slop. A whistling grew louder in the distance. Was it a plane? It seemed to be getting closer. And closer. Being the quick thinker he was, he dove for cover a split second before impact. Being an aged man this was quite a feat. He looked up to see what must have been nearly half of the prison blown to shit, with a massive fiery crater filled with rubble remaining where the west wing--the location of his cell had been.

He scrambled through the wreckage as burning bodies and armed guards shouted around him. we're the prisoners using this as an opportunity to escape? He spied several men in their black and white stripes engulfed in flames. He felt no pity whatsoever. They had all murdered, raped, or performed some other ungodly act. He had simply cleansed the earth, one bit of Vermin at a time.

The massive, 30 foot tall, 5 foot thick concrete wall surrounding the prison was smashed in on one side, where the mysterious explosion seemed to have occurred. He saw this as his only way to escape. Oh, but first he must gather his personal affects. He resorted to waiting for one of the escaping prisoners to pass the bit of rubble he had taken cover behind and pounding their skull in and siezing their crude weapon.

He managed to make his way to the now evacuated main building, locating the office used to contain the personal belongings of the prisoners. He quickly located the box labeled "6570534" and swapped his tattered prison garb for his sunglasses, boots, gloves, coat, and vest. He holstered his empty weapons to his chest and set off.

Still holding the crude bludgeoning device at the ready, he swiftly made his way through the fiery hell hole towards the wall. As he approached it, he heard a faint humming getting louder and louder as he approached. When he was within sight if the object that had caused this mess, he realized that it was a massive glowing orange boulder, which had presumably been some kind of meteorite. What else could have caused such a massive explosion?

He had no desire whatsoever to stay and investigate, as emergency reinforcements were surely on their way. The only way out was to climb over the object. Without hesitation he placed the rubber sole of his boot on the rock, and then his bare hand. He collapsed forward onto the rock immediately, losing all sight briefly. A voice spoke to him. It said simply... "destroy all that is evil... So that which is good may flourish."

He grinned to himself as he tumbled down over the rock to freedom. He gathered himself. Despite the massive trauma he should be experiencing after the event, he felt calm. Calmer, in fact, than he had ever felt. He felt as though a warm and loving presence was with him, comforting him, guiding him. He reminded himself sharply that he was in the run, being one of the deadliest men alive at large. He needed to run. To survive.

With the task at hand beating through his veins, and what he believed to ge the wirds of god himself as guidance, he set off. An occasional whisper from the entity he thought was god kept him company in his lonely world. Little did he know, more than law enforcement would rise from the ashes, and hunt him down to his last breath. Something had returned. A vermin in need of extermination.

*Misc: whether or not his mind is perfectly stable is debatable. However ethics behind his actions are what most people judge him by. People's variations in viewpoint and about ethics determine for them whether or not he is "good" or "bad." this ethical confusion is the main reason I chose to stick with prisoner 6570534 as my character. More stoic and wise than richtofen though. More of a quiet type. In fact he barely talks.

xXExpertCoahXx:

Full bio:

Character Name: Alaina Sophia Kurkov

Gender: Female

Age: 25

Appearance: Alaina has a glass eye which is a part of the horrible experiments done to her, she has a long scar from her forehead to her chin going over her right glass eye. Her hair is shoulder length and is blonde. She is 6'0" and typically wears blue jeans, steel-toed boots, and a plaid button up shirt, exposing her stomach and chest a little.

She has scars all across her body due to her escape from the facility, she wears a snap-back hat with the New England Patriots football logo. Both of her arms have tattoos of dragons and the names of her deceased family and friends. (Imagine a Russian version of'Misty' )

Country of Origin: Russia

Abilities: Alaina is able to see through objects with her glass eye, she can also read the minds of others with it as well.

Bio: When Alaina was 16 her family home in the country side of Russia was attacked by a rogue group of surviving Nazi scientist. Her mother, father, brother and grandmother all died due to the attack and she was take captive. At a facility which specialized in mutation using the element 115, they did various experiments and test on her physical and mental being.

At the age of 23 she escaped the facility and fled to America where she lived for two years until the supposed 'zombie' apocalypse. Now at the age of 25 she spends her life fighting the undead and living on the run.

*Misc: Alaina has trust issues, with men specifically. When she was taken away one of the scientist abused her and attempted to rape her when she killed him and escaped.

darkjolteon:

Full bio:

Character Name: Dawn Smith

Gender: Female

Age: 15

Appearance: 5’2, long blonde hair, slim frame. A unique scar down her back. Piercing blue eyes.

Country of Origin: Great Britain

Abilities: Fire Manipulation, Resistant to Heat and Radiation.

Bio: Dawn Smith is fifteen years old. She was raised in the small town of Brackley in Great Britain. At age twelve her father was mysteriously killed, and a year later her abusive step father moved in. Her step father was of German origin. He was a scientist for the Nazis and was involved in horrifying experiments that he still believed in to this date. He turned Dawn into his own personal test subject. After a year of being abused by her step father, Dawn developed an ability to manipulate fire. She destroyed her home, killing both her step father and her mother in the process.

She ran for her life, hiding out in the forests, before the Nukes struck the Earth. She only survived the blast due to her abilities making her resistant to heat and radiation. However, once the old colleagues of her step father discover of her existence, and of her powers, they attempt to hunt her down so that they can discover the true effect that Element 115 is having on her body. These individuals are still strong believers in the Nazi philosophies and are attempting to revive the Nazi dominance through creating super soldiers using 115. Dawn now spends her life on the run from the psychopaths that are attempting to capture her and experiment on her.

*Misc: Afraid of water as it weakens her. Does not make bonds with people easily, and very violent due to her past of being abused.

Eye:

Full bio:

Character Name: Gabriel Gardon

Gender: Male

Age: 17

Appearance: Tan, green eyes, buzzed off brown hair, 6’2”, 190 pounds, athletic build, muscular but not overly so. Generally seen wearing a t-shirt and jeans, very average dress

Country of Origin: United States

Abilities: Draconia. Possesses the abilities of a dragon, hard skin, super strength, fire breathing, flight

Bio: From a very young age, Gabe was exposed to the horrors of humanity, the fiend who was his father, taking knives to his mother’s face nearly every time he touched a drink. In the midst of a rage, Gabe’s father turned the knife on himself. Plunging the serrated edge of the blade into his heart, Michael Gardon collapsed in the pouring rain, in one hand, a key, and in the other, a nearly full bottle of Vodka. Gabe rushed into the pouring rain, tears and rain mixing, as they trickled down the 11-year-old’s face. He took the key, the bottle of Vodka, and did not wake for the following day and a half.

Four years later, Gabe’s mother has committed suicide, and he now lives alone, emancipated. One day, he finds a small chest; the key that he has worn since his father’s death opens it. Inside, he finds several vials of blood. Interesting. Both Gabe and his father are the extremely rare blood type of HH. Forgetting it, Gabe closes the chest and moves on. Two weeks later, Gabe gets into a car accident and requires a blood transfusion after his surgery. He is able to get the vials from his father’s chest and transplanted into him. The blood type is HH, but it has some interesting side effects… In the midst of raging dipsomania, Gabriel Gardon breathes fire…

*Misc: Uncontrollable drinking habits, much like his father, but when he is drunk off his ass, he has no control over his powers. He hardens his skin and charges at everything, flies, and breathes fire everywhere. Note: do not let him drink dragon blood, lest a beast be unleashed. He did it once, and safe to say, he lives in a new house.

[Tac]

OOC: Read my bio, it is imperative!! Also, italicized denotes a dream.

______________________________________________________________________

Date: July 7, 1962

Date: August 9th, 1945

It was a few minutes past noon when I was on the farm plowing and saw two vehicles pull up in our driveway. Four men with black suits and sunglasses got out to approach the house. I was sure they hadn't seen me, so I snuck up on the house, hiding behind some equipment, as my father came out the front door to meet him. I had heard him on the phone many times trying to get ahold of the government, but I hadn't known for what purpose. They began with casual talk when everything suddenly became tense, as one man asked how his term was, and my father said it was hectic because he was forced to escape in 1941 due to Germany breaking the non-aggression pact with Russia. I was confused beyond any other time prior, I couldn't tell what he meant by "escape". What did he need to escape?

The men were convinced that he would not have been able to escape, implying he agreed to help the Germans in exchange for his life. Was he a POI? When did he personally confront the German? My father was appalled at their words, asking to see men with higher authority to explain and verify the situation, so he could prove he wasn't a German spy. They denied his request and one of them apologized about what was going to happen, and from a distance I saw a man go behind my father and raise his weapon. I heard a loud bang and saw fathers head jerk forward. The men promptly left and I ran over to my father, seeing the blood begin to pool up, with empty and dark eyes, like those of what he was... A dead man. I called my mother, telling her to get home immediately.

I woke up at 8AM to a phone call from a friend, telling me to watch for anything odd around my farm, explaining that some chemicals were coming downwind from Sedan Nuclear Explosion the day earlier. I thanked him, hung up the phone, and realized something was off. I didn't feel bad, but I certainly didn't feel good. I had been dreaming again. Not normal dreams, those were nonexistent anymore, they were the horrible ones. I think my father had called them nightmares, but I don't recall precisely.

I went out to the farm, eating some corn off the stalk when it hit me. I didn't know what it was but suddenly I felt weird, out of place. My head began to hurt and I couldn't tell why, but it soon became excruciating. I grabbed my head, not being able to take it anymore, screaming and writhing in pain. I knew I needed to escape this, but just wasn't sure how. Soon enough the pain became to much for me to bare, resulting in me fainting. I woke up a few hours later to something I recognized but didn't want to believe, calling my name.

"Hello, my son," the voice said.

[Undead]

Roswell, Georgia -- June 17th, 1967

The scarlet rays of an early late summer morning sun beamed through the cracked window blinds, showing a parade of floating dust fall graciously around the room. Ruckus from children dancing around the lower floor as they made of for their first day of school woke Andrew up at a quarter after seven, earlier than he wanted to, no less. He heard Aunt Maggie, as the neighborhood kids called her, hollering his name,

"ANDREW, GET UP YOU SILLY 'OL LAZY FOOL!"

Andrew cracked an eye open, rolling on to his back with an exhausted sigh. It's not everyday I work through most hours of the night, he thought, pondering about the time he's been here, away from a life he once knew, but doesn't yet miss. 6 months? or 22 years? The jump he attempted to make really turned him around, and hoped everyone else was alright.

He rubbed his bulging scars on his back, thinking about the incredible folk he's been searching for day after day between working out on the farm or shed. Andrew sat up, with a final sigh, he pulled an old white t-shirt over hes head and slipped on his military pants and boots.

"Well, here we go..." Andrew muttered to himself.

Andrew vanished and reappeared instantanously from the spare room, to the bathroom; pulling a troubled smirk as he looked at himself and his baggy eyes and weary looks of what could be mistaken for a zombie. Andrew shivered, thank God I haven't had to deal with anymore of those things in the time being here. Andrew jumped again, now sitting at the **** please report this topic, post **** table with luke-warm plate of toast and eggs in front of him. Margrette turned around, jumping with fright;

"Gah! Damn you boy, you scare the living hell out of me everytime you do that!" she exclaimed.

Andrew smiled, with less struggle this time as he always got a crack out of that.

"Yeah, uh-huh, you think your so funny, eh? Well, it's a good thing I but you to work! You'd be more fragile than a wine bottle with you... jumping around like that all the time!" She said affirmingly with both hands on her hips. That classic, "Oh, you're in trouble now" expression she uses to intimidate the children.

"Now eat your breakfast and get out there and make yourself useful some more!"

Andrew finished off his eggs and grabbed his last piece of toast, teleporting to the barn as he took a bite to start on the day once again.

[MyLittleHellhound]

Two years after Missile Strike

Japan

Ji Eun felt that warping sensation again, the buzz in her stomach and the overwhelming sense of vertigo as purple flashed before her eyes, an endless wormhole. The purple tunnel suddenly severed and she crumpled to the ground, landing on a teleportation pad and shivering. She never liked the feelings anyways. Gradually, the girl cracked open her eyes and was met with a very familiar site. However, this wasn't Seoul. No, it wasn't her home. It was . . . somewhere else. Yet it still stank of gasoline, foul air, and fire. She picked herself off of the pad and brushed some stone off of her dress, looking around. The only light shone from a gaping hole in the ceiling, which continued into the floor. There were overturned tables and cables on the floor. Ji stepped off of the platform lightly and held her sword in front of her, squinting into the sky. It was a deep orange, constantly shifting and flickering as lightning split the air. It was now that she realized where she'd ended up. The Japanese characters, painted by hand, were spat upon the wall like graffiti next to a pair of buckled double doors. As a girl, she had some sense of the other Asian languages, but mainly English and Korean. After some time of translating, she figured it was a date of some event or something. She could really use Erich or Henry right now . . .

Climbing through a smashed window, albeit carefully, Ji Eun slid behind an overturned van a shape moved down the street. She peered through a hole in the van the size of a dinner plate as the shuffling form slowly came into view.The slow, scratchy sounds of its feet sounded in the air as she readied her sword, adjusting her slender fingers on the grip. The slim girl breathed calmly before sliding out and swinging at the zombie, slicing it across the lightning-blue eyes and lopping off the top half of its head. The zombie stumbled, jaw snapping as she kicked it and made another cut across its neck. Black blood spurted out weakly and pooled across the pavement, going towards a glowing fissure that separated the street. Another zombie stumbled out of a wrecked condominium, rather, a dozen of them. Where there was one . . . there were hundreds more. Ji Eun adjusted her sword and started to sing a lilting tune. Over time, she'd learned to harness her powers better. Singing the soft tune gradually built up energy within her chest. She continued to gaze around as the zombies stumbled towards her, a living mass of gnashing teeth and rotten flesh.

And then she launched into the chorus.

The notes flew from her mouth, an abundance of energy which boomed outwards. The invisible energy blew away the first zombies, sending them sailing into the air. Other's limbs were ripped off and bones shattered from the pure force generated by this girl. Rank upon rank of zombie fell and the sound wave shattered the condominium to the right of her, which, with a groan, started to topple onto her. The shadow fell across her as she sprinted across to the fissure behind her which glowed menacingly. Gathering all of her strength, she leaped across the gaping expanse and landed hard, clutching at the jagged rocks as she struggled to haul herself up onto the other side. Below her, lava hissed and bubbled as the rocks dislodged by her fell and were melted instantly. Her pale small hands scrabbled for purchase among the various rocks and trinkets that littered the streets. Zombies came from the other side and fell off, trying to get a grip on her. They fell into the expanse and died with small hisses. Ji Eun panted hard and finally hauled herself up with a small cry, trying to catch her breath. The condominium collapsed across the street and obliterated everything under it with a cloud of dust and torrent of concrete and glass, burying the rest of the horde. And thus began her journey, deep into the unknown of urban Japan.

[floofy55]

OOC: Bio changed slightly. Now makes sense

A piercing white light flooded into my eyes, rudely awkening me. I covered my face in my hands and groaned. Throwing the covers away and slowly sitting up, I rubbed my left eye.

The room slowly came into focus. Empty aside from my bed and sterile white. The "clean" color. The "calming" color. light flooded in through the window, rendered pointless by the absurdly bright light hanging from the roof.

Groggily I made my way out of my room and into the long hallway outside. Steel doors painted a "happy" yellow lined the walls, entrances to the rooms of other patients.

The sleep finally drifted away as I made my way into the main room. A bald man in a wheelchair sat next to the entranceway, his gown covered in blood. He seemed to be gnawing on a bone. I thought nothing of it and proceeded, running into an odd sight.

All around, the other patients were silently chewing on what appeared to be human limbs. They tore voraciously, and without any sound. I walked up to one of them, a squirrely blonde man I had known for some time.

"Walter?" I asked. "What the fuck is going on here?" He stopped tearing at the arm he held in his hands, which were soaked in crimson splatter, as was his sallow face as it rose to meet mine.

He whispered weakly, "Help me." He then stood up and spoke more clearly. "Help me." I backed away as he started to walk slowly towards me. He began to shout, "Help me!", as other patients rose and joined each other in a chorus. "Help me!" They shouted in unison, slowly moving in to enclose and surround me. They kept shouting, becoming louder, angrier, more rapid. "HELP ME!" They screamed, scars forming on their faces as I shoved them away from me, but there was an endless sea of blood-soaked, peeling faces, all wailing like banshees, "HELP ME!"

I shoved through the mob towards the exit the scars on their faces had begun to seperate, revealing the muscles and sinew underneath. Still they continued to scream.

Reaching where the door had been, I saw it had transformed. It was a giant human mouth, ruby red lips and bright white teeth, tongue whipping about wildly. The skinless patients began to shove ,me towards it, still shouting "HELP ME!" as their voices started becoming raspier, hoarse, like a death rattle. They swarmed me and began to force me into it's waiting lips. "HELP ME!" They screamed, and I realized how ironic that was, even now. I held fast against it's walls, gripping it's wet lips, resisting the torrent of shouting patients trying to force me in.

Slowly and deliberately it's long tongue reached up and caressed my cheek, tenderly, lovingly. A female voice in my head whispered "delicious." At that point I couldn't keep my grip, and succumbed to the sheer number of patients welling up against me and fell into the darkness within.

********

I awoke with a start, which was odd. My nightmares had never scared me before. "Hmph," exclaimed as I rose from the ditch I had burrowed for the night. I rubbed my left eye. It had been feeling weird since the explosion. Maybe I got something in it.

[MegaAfroMan]

Time has a funny way of changing things...

"Erich run!"

                 Location: Der Riese Facility

Metallic clangs ring through the air as Erich smashes undead left and right. Shouts can be heard between Henry and Ji. More and more undead come around every corner as Erich continues making his way to the main controls.

I must activate the teleporter. There are too many of them...

Reaching the controls Erich sets the teleporter to activate. Destination, 935 Facility located in Berlin. The Theater.

He turns around and sees zombies storming the mainframe from every direction. Ji and Henry are barely holding them back.

If Henry doesn't survive this, I will have no way of locating additional 115... he must be protected at all costs.

Tightening his fists, Erich leaps into the horde and swings his arms like hammers. Gore flies everywhere as the undead are struck by his fists.

Just need a little more time...

Erich quickly enters into a combat roll to shake off the zombies attempting to pull him down and swiftly kicks away an oncoming thrall. A humming sound begins to come from the mainframe.

Not much longer!

Warning. Warning. Generator entering critical state. Failure imminent. Warning. Warning...

No! Those blasted vermin are destroying the generators!

With great effort Erich flings off all the nearby zombies and sprints towards the generators. His strides sounding out with tremendous thuds, toppling over any obstructions in his path.

Warning. Warning.

Reaching the room he bludgeons all the undead he can reach, and attempts to rig the generator to be able to at least last through the teleportation process.

Warning. Warning.

This should do...

Sprinting back to the mainframe Erich runs with astounding speed. The crackling of electricity can be heard.

"Erich run!"

Ji's cry pierces the air, Erich sprints for the mainframe. Arcs of electricity begin engulfing Ji and Henry.

Warning.

In a flash of light Ji and Henry disappear, and an arc of electricity strikes Erich straight in the chest and sends him flying. Like a rag-doll he is tossed into the air, smashing through walls, and coming to rest, ironically enough, in his own office. An explosion can be heard as the generator is unable to keep up with the power demand of the teleporters...

Warning... warning... systems failure... $ys+ems fai1ur3...

[Undead]

Berlin, Germany -- 1943

"Take it Kasady, and get out of here, RUN! Don't worry, I'll be... STOP! Kasady, you're hurting me! Wh-Why are you doing this?! KASADY... "I know all about you, child... you can't hide from me, apart of me lives inside you ALL! "Grandpa? Grandpa... please, wake up! Wake up Grandpa! P-Please wake up!" "You... you killed him! Why did you KILL HIM KASADY?!" "You belong to me now, give up while I still allow you to live." "I already told you, I don't have the fragments!" "You've changed, Kasady... I, I don't know if I can be around you anymore... I'm sorry." "I know you inside and out, better than you know yourself." "GET OUT OF MY HEAD! RRRRAAAAAAGGGGHHhhhhhh! .....

...

*Gasp*

Kasady swung forward from the ragged quilt sweating bullets, her heart raced as it pounded against her chest, panting in fear. She hesitated to swallow, and let out a shallow sigh has the reality of it being a dream began to sink in, she sighed, holding her palm to her head. She let out a deep breath, looking over to see Tia still fast asleep against the humming generator that gave off just enough heat to prevent them from shivering all night.

Kasady studied the locket that hung around Tia's neck and laid gently upon her collar bone, her body still quivering from the jolt of adrenaline that jump-started her entire being. He had a grim look, almost insane, addicted as she studied the locket. She reached towards the locket, her hands began to shake madly as she tried to resist. Clenching a fist, she forced herself back and immediately stood up, walking away from Tia.

Tia, hearing Kasady's clumping boots quickly woke her up, being in the heart of Germany during the war with a mad man like Walter around, anything made her paranoid sleeping in this God-forsaken city. She watched quietly as Kasady walked to the dusty windows of the 935 facility. No one has shown up in days, and it feels like they have been in there for weeks. Kasady lit up a cigarette and glanced outside the window, looking for any patrols out on duty, hoping someone would show up to work the machine and get the hell out of here soon enough.

[Jolteon]

OOC: Okay, so this is my first post here. I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but you guys will have to let me know whether I'm doing good or bad Anyways, here goes!

24th September, 1969.

It was dark. The cold and bare stone room had begun to leak and the rain was beginning to flood the once safe haven for Dawn. Dawn hated the rain. In fact, she hated anything remotely wet and did her best to avoid it at all cost. She desperately wanted to escape Great Britain because it rained so often, however that would involve crossing vast oceans of yet more water, and she hadn’t worked up the courage to do this. She slept softly, a hand tightly gripped around a blade, and a small candle burning next to her face attempting to keep her warm.

There was a sudden knock at the door. Dawn's eyes snapped open and darted around the darkened room, and her hands clutched tightly around her weapon. She slowly sat up, and snaked toward the corner of the room as silently as she could. Her eyes darted from the shadowed door, to the boarded up window, to the candle that still dimly burnt in the centre of the room. Something entered the lock on the door. It scraped around, as if trying to claw its way through the metal. The sound reminded her of one of the most painful memories of her childhood. Her weakened mind drifted back to that day.

It was 1967. Dawn was sat in her bedroom, playing with her favourite toys. She was an innocent young girl. Just 13 years old. She heard a familiar creaking of the bottom step of her Mother’s home. Suddenly, she darted towards the door, feared streaked across her face. She slid the bolt across the door, locking it from the inside, before running and hiding under her bed covers, shaking with fear. Something slid inside the gap between the door and the frame, scraping along the bolt attempting to unlock the door.

Dawn began to shake uncontrollably. The bolt slid back. The door opened. Footsteps paced slowly toward Dawn, still hidden beneath the covers. A shadow loomed over her. A grim laugh echoed throughout the room. The covers were lifted and Dawn let out a tiny screech of fear. A horrific, evil smirk spread across the man’s face.

The man was Dawn's Step Father. Her Mother had let him move in a year previous, following the death of her Father, who was mysteriously murdered in 1965. Since his appearance, Dawn has lived a life of fear. Her Step Father abused her. Over the years, Dawn had accumulated a number of scars across her body, most notably one that ran from her hair line right down to her lower back. A feeling of pure hatred boiled in her stomach whenever she saw his face and that same evil smirk that crossed it whenever her Mother was away. He had a thick German accent and throughout the years he had performed many ‘experiments’ on Dawn. For the most part this involved injecting her with various substances, including some form of sedative, before proceeding to rape her. These substances gave out a strange orange glow, and once or twice she overheard him referring to her as a ‘test subject’, before reporting that there was still no change in her behaviour.

He bent over her, pinning her to the bed by wrapping his large hands around her throat. Dawn opened her mouth to scream, but he crushed her wind pipe so that no more than a whimper escaped her body. He slapped her hard across the face, before trying to rip off her clothes. Dawn kicked out at him in a desperate attempt to fend him off, but he sat across her before laughing in her face. Dawn's eyes darted around her, desperately looking for a way out of this nightmare. Her arms flailed around uncontrollably. She was desperately looking for some form of escape, but just like every other time, he pulled out a syringe full of sedative and prepared to inject her with it.

Suddenly, some form of instinct thrust her arm toward a candle the other side of the room. Dawn had no idea what caused this reaction, but it was strange enough to distract her Step Father momentarily. The flame of the candle had erupted. It rose up into the air before forming a ball of fire, full of fierce energy and intense heat. Dawn threw her hand toward her attackers face and the ball followed, smashing him with such force it threw him across the room. The candle flame continued to grow until the house began to burn with it. The flames were destroying everything around Dawn and yet she felt no pain, no burn. Her Step Father stared straight into her eyes, fear etched across his face.

“What have I created?” he croaked in his thick German accent. “I was attempting to create some form of super human being using the power of Element 115… I succeeded.”

Dawn stood up and stood over the man who was once her monster. She raised her hands into the air, and the flames around her followed. She could feel the heat from the flames inside her, building up a rage like nothing she had felt before. Then, with one sweep of her hands, the flames threw themselves at her Step Father, engulfing him. She could hear his screams, smell his skin burning, and yet she felt no remorse.

Suddenly, she heard a scream from downstairs. Once again the step creaked, and she could her footsteps running up the stairs. She felt the rage building once more as she remembered the fear that filled her every time she heard that familiar creak. Dawn raised her hands once more, and once more the flames danced around her. She prepared herself. The door opened and without hesitation she launched the flames at the being entering her room. Before she even had time to scream, Dawn’s Mother was engulfed in the blaze. Dawn screamed. The rage drained away and was replaced with panic. She raced over to her Mother, but she was too late. Her Mother was dead. Dawn dropped to her knees, the flames still dancing around her, still causing her no harm.

Dawn didn’t move. She refused. The entire house had burnt to the ground. Her Mother and Step Father were nothing but ash. The flames had died away and she was left there alone. She heard sirens. She stood up, turned, and ran off into the forests in the distance. She kept running, never stopping. She couldn’t stop. This was the worst day of her life and she needed to escape it. She kept running, never looking back. She did her best to avoid any form of thoughts as it was just too painful for her to bear. She found a dry patch beneath the branches, and curled up, alone and crying. Then out of nowhere, there was an explosion. She looked up to see a huge cloud of smoke rising into the air, vaguely resembling a mushroom.

Dawn suddenly came back to reality. She couldn’t linger in the past when there was potentially danger present right now. The lock clicked into place and the door opened. In stepped a man who proceeded to point a gun at her head. Dawn recognised him instantly. He was tall, wearing a military outfit, with a Swastika pinned to his chest. This man had been chasing her ever since the incident two years previously. He smirked that same grim smirk that always crossed her Step Father’s face. That same grim smirk that still haunted Dawn in her nightmares to this day.

“I have you now,” he said before breaking into a manic laugh.

-Jolteon

[Lizizadolphin]

OOC: this was kinda rushed but I wanted to get something posted, so it's a first post, it can only get better

Months after the Missile Incident

Streets were barren, covered in rubble and bodies. The same streets, once lively and filled with brightly colored cars and smiling families, now were overrun by sluggish creatures. These creatures had once been humans, but now fallen to a fate worse than death. Their eyes glowed like Christmas lights in comparison to their pale complexions. Viscous blood dripped from wounds and crusted blood covered the remnants of clothes.

Cici stood among them. Her eyes blankly glazed over them, taking it all in. One of the creatures gimped up to her, coming to stare her in the face. For a moment it stood stagnant, its eyes seemingly focused in confusion. Suddenly, it unleashed an inhuman howl, its decaying teeth displayed to Cici. The scream sent her crashing through a wall of repressed memories into a pit of blackness. She let her eyes lids close momentarily.

*****

When Cici’s eyes fluttered open again, she wasn't drifting through vague memories anymore. Instead, she lay uncomfortably on her back, shards of cement piercing her skin. Ignoring the pain, she breathed deeply, realizing her "dreams" had become too real and haunting. Finally accumulating enough energy she groggily rolled over, reaching for a bag near her head.

She opened the bag and pulled out a small metal container. Three cigarettes lay in the tin, along with a few matches. Cici plucked one and placed it between her lips, then struck a match on a nearby wall. She carefully brought the flame up to the end of her cigarette and inhaled, savoring what she could. Putting the tin back in the bag, she sat up and threw her legs over the ledge. The smoke flowed from her nostrils and mouth and was swiftly blown away by the wind. She sat for a few moments, looking out in the distance, then returned her gaze to the decimated town she saw in her sleep.

Almost every building in the town was leveled, and fires burned continuously. The single building Cici took shelter in was hardly suitable. There were large holes in the walls and floors, and beams fell constantly. She was just leaving though, only stopping for the night to rest. Snuffing the cigarette, she stood and observed the town again, looking for a safe way out.

Seeing no visible threats, Cici dashed to grab her bag, quiver and bow. With caution, she leaped from the overhang, landing on a large pile of rubble. She slid and bounced on the hard rock, yet picked herself up and jumped down to the street below.

Like what she had witnessed before, the creatures were wandering aimlessly. One curious specimen from the bunch worked its way up to her cautiously. It began screeching, but Cici chuckled at the sight having seen it before. Spying a bar above her head, she leapt up and grabbed it with one hand and kicked a leg out. The creatures head was kicked clean off, and it rolled along to the side of the road. As Cici landed on the ground, the other creatures turned and began to traipse closer, unaware that their prey was a dangerous predator.

[Tac]

Date: July 26, 1965

Date: October 3, 1945

When I first heard my fathers voice on that day 3 years ago, I didn't know what to make of it. I couldn't tell whether I was going insane, having a flashback, or was actually hearing him. After he died, my mother was terribly distraught and put all of his military belongings into a trunk, heading to town to get rid of them for good. While I managed to keep my fathers letters and going back over them was always comforting to read, I'd come to realize the conversations were only shallow in depth.

But now that I am able to talk to him everyday, we've grown even closer than before, and he's begun to open up about his military experiences. He explains about all the times his comrades pulled pranks on him, leaders yelled at him, and the different kinds of weapons he fired. I had nodded along for as long as I could that day before I explained to him that I needed some sleep, since tomorrow was a long day of wheat harvest ahead of me. He agreed and said goodnight, and the dreams happened again.

It was my mothers birthday tomorrow and I needed to find something for her, but I didn't know where to go since I didn't travel outside my farm to much. I drove into town to see what I could find when I looked out my car and saw a pawn shop. It was a cold day, raining and windy, so I grabbed my beanie and put the scarfs around my neck.

I walked into the warm store and noticed a woman behind the counter, acknowledging her as she spoke to me, but I realized it was an accent I didn't recognize. My mother was into ancient mythology, so when I noticed a golden statue of what appeared to be Aphrodite, I immediately went to go look at it. I could tell this employee was intrigued by me, I just couldn't tell for sure why.

"Sorry for asking... but am I right in saying you're from Russia, yeah?"

I didn't know what she was trying to get at, so I replied with a simple, "yes."

"Um...what's it like there?"

"It is... alright," I said, noticing it was simply out of curiosity. "Was, should I say. The war has turned the motherland into an unholy place. It is why I left, because I could not live in my home anymore."

Before she was able to respond, a man burst into the door with a gun and we were both frozen in fear but I knew I couldn't let the man get away, so I jumped on his back but I felt my nose break from the contact with his elbow. The next thing I knew was laying on the ground, coughing up blood. The pool that was gathering reminded me my fathers death in our driveway, but I didn't want that same fate.

The woman brought over an old, ripped piece of cloth that she held over my wound, when suddenly everything was green and warm, and before I knew it, the blood had stopped. I was breathing heavy and he noticed the wound was gone. I was shaken up but managed to get a few words out. "Wh.. what did you.. do?" When I realized she wasn't going to answer, I knew she was a freak but I'd never forget the name I saw on her tag; Tia.

[floofy55]

At any rate, I had been adjusting to this new world well. With all the undead festering about the place I always had fodder to kill. Although they could have provided more of a challenge. No particularly large swarms had appeared yet, just small bands at the most. They seemed to have a pack mentality, odd, for a creature with no mind to speak of.

Food, however, was becoming an issue. I hadn't eaten since my plane had crashed, which would have to be 3 days ago now. I hoped to find some kind of ruin somewhere, perhaps some food would have been sheltered from the blast there.

********************

Later that same day, whilst wandering the wastes of the world, traversing lava, craggy landscapes and a thick, murky fog that covered alot of the area, I eventually stumbled upon the slightest hint of a road. Following this faint imprint left in the dank ground, I came upon a small village. Or what was left of one, anyway.

Any building that wasn't completely reduced to rubble was engulfed in rust and flame. Trees were reduced too smouldering shriveled husks, and, as was to be expected, nothing was left alive. Not even any hints of zombies about.

Closer inspection upon one such pile of debris, however, revealed the heavy wooden trap door into an old root cellar. It was completely blown off it's decaying hinges and was seemingly held to the edges by nothing.

"Meh." I said aloud. "Could be filled with food, could be filled with lava. Equal chances I suppose."

Wrapping my hands around the grubby wooden door, I heaved it off whatever bound it to the ground and tossed it aside. To my surprise, a light emenated from within. Not the orange glow of lava, but the stark pale yellow of an old lightbulb. The ladder leading inside had been knocked away, so with a grunt I hopped down inside onto the concrete floor.

Inside were shelves lined with food. Tons of it. All set out on long shelves like a grocery store. Inside it was warm and inviting, with many lights casting a comforting glow onto everything.

A man with jelled-back brown hair and a blonde woman stood within, giant grins on their faces. "Welcome!" The man said, a jolly tone in his voice, "To our little slice of paradise!"

The woman then chimed in, speaking in sing-song. "Feel free to take whatever you wish, there's plenty for everyone."

Taken aback and confused by the scene before me, I was caught unaware when the blonde woman leaped on top of me, shrieking. She went for my throat like a beast, gnashing her teeth and apparently trying to bite me. "What the fuck!?" I yelled as I kicked her off of me, sending her into the clean white wall.

Almost immediately, she rose from the ground, bones cracking. She began to slowly lurch towards me. The man had evidently been doing the same during my struggle with her, and his outstrecthed arms were groping the air by my neck.

I quickly dropped to the ground and delivered a spinning kick to his legs, forcing them to seperate from his waist and fall to the ground limp. I turned in the direction of the woman and clenched an outstrechted fist, causing her head to collapse in on itsel;f, impaling her brain with fragments of the skull.

Growling erupted from the floor and I turned my head to see the man slowly pulling himslef towards me, crawling across the ground and leaving a pool of blood from his detached torso. I quickly stomped his skull into the earth, shattering it with a satisfying CRACK.

In almost the same instant, the warm lights of the root cellar flickered and died. In place of the welcoming light that had filled the room prior there was a single dull, flickering light hanging from the cieling. Shelves were strewn about the room on the floor, covered in mould and disease from rotting foodstuffs. Blood covered the walls, in some places in the shape of a handprint. The smell of rot wuickly filled my nostrils as I saw two decaayed bodies among the mess, one missing it's legs.

Rubbing my left eye and looking about once more, I smacked my forehead and shouted "Fucking Christ not this again!"

[Rissole25]

((OOC: Remember, we're in Kino 1945, before Black Ops, so it wouldn't be all trashed. Also Undead, remove everything after Misc. I didn't realize you'd be having the bio up in text form as well haha. New guys post will be up soon.))

Kasady turned around as Tia Rydia stood up, stretching her arms and yawning as she had just woken up. She still looked tired.

"Not a good sleep?", asked Kasady, blowing smoke.

"No...", said Tia. "Not since Gage's..."

Kasady returned to look out the window. Tia brushed the dirt off her pink frock and looked around. The room they were staying in had gathered a lot of dust, but otherwise it was still clean. The generator they rested against kept them warm during the nights. The doors were barricaded in case of any intruders, but one of them, usually Kasady, kept watch at night. She volunteered most nights, and while Tia protested against them, reminding her she needed rest, she would ignore those pleas and keep watch anyway.

She looked back at Kasady, who had just threw her cigarette out the window. Tia never realized how much of a toll this was taking on Kasady, since she was the tough one out of the two, heck, out of the whole group. But the effects were obvious now. Bags had formed under her eyes, her attention and movements became sluggish at times, almost resembling that of a zombie. And she had grown increasingly aggressive as of late.

"We need to get it working Kasady...", said Tia. Kasady continued to stare out the window, before turning around and putting out her smoke, dropping it on the ground.

"I know...", she muttered, not looking at Tia.

"Come on. Let's go take another look at it", said Tia calmly, smiling at her friend. She walked over to one of the doors, and moved all the stuff away that blocked it. She picked up her wooden combat rod, and opened the door, ready to strike whatever waited on the other side. Nothing.

She walked out, Kasady finally noticing that she was gone. She sighed, and went to follow Tia. The girls were in a stairwell full of odd canisters and boxes. Walking down the stairs, they looked at the boxes and canisters, wondering just what was inside them. They continued onwards onto the stage. Although they were in a Group 935 facility, it was also a theater. They walked past the power switch which controlled the theater's entire power, Kasady turning it on as she walked past. The theater hummed with life instantly, electricity filling and activating all that ran off it.

"Let's try not to keep it on for long", said a concerned Kasady. "We don't want any patrols to come in, and we don't want it to short out". The girls kept the power on periodically. Keeping it on for only a few hours, than keeping it off for a few hours. Before they slept, they kept it on for a bit, to give the generators enough heat. Once asleep, they slept against the generator, giving off the heat it had accumulated while on.

Tia nodded, and they turned the corner onto the main stage. Rows of seats lay before them, with a pathway to the foyer in the middle. Viewing balconies were to the sides and behind them, and a mysterious projector always ran while the power was on. On it were images that Tia did not understand, though she didn't know if Kasady knew anything about them.

Turning to the right was the prize. A teleporter stood before them, much like the ones they had seen at Der Riese. But even with the power on, it still did not work, evening though it was 'on'. The girls tried there hardest to activate it, but to no avail. They knew it was how they would get out of here though, since Andrew was not with them.

"What do you think Kasady?", asked Tia. Kasady did not respond. She was staring at Tia's locket, hypnotised. "Kas..ady?", she said, curious.

"Give me the locket", she said in a monotonous voice, laying an open palm in front of Tia. Tia was a little hesitant, but she had been wearing the locket for a while. They had agreed to take turns, knowing the 115 had strange effects on the wearer the longer they wore it. She took it off, and attempted to hand it Kasady, who had a smile on her face. Tia however fumbled with the locket, and she accidentally dropped it. It bounced and rolled to the edge of the teleporter, where a jolt of electricity appeared between the two. Weird noises could be heard, and small bolts of electricity appeared with in the teleporter which soon subsided.

"What was that?!", exclaimed Tia. Kasady rushed forward and picked the locket up again. It was relatively unchanged, except it was warm. She instinctively went to open the locket, but stopped halfway. The girls had agreed not to open it or touch it again until they could get it checked out by Victor, who they had no idea where he was. She clenched her fist around the locket, and slowly put it around her neck, feeling a temporary peace.

"The 115...reacted with it", said Kasady, surprised that she knew this.

"Maybe that's what we need to work it...115...", said Tia in a disappointed voice. They had possibly discovered how to work it, but she knew they would need a bigger source than just a small stone. "I don't think there would be any here..", looking around the theater.

"Wait here!", shouted Kasady. She took off around the corner back towards where they slept, leaving a confused Tia alone. Minutes later, she returned, holding a box. She put it down next the teleporter, and the same thing with the locket happened. A jolt appeared between the box and teleporter, and the electricity bounced around inside the teleporter, more so this time.

"Huh?", questioned Tia. "Where did you find that?", seeing the meteor through the flaps of the box.

"It was in the room we were staying in", said Kasady, as if it was nothing.

"But...why didn't you saying anything before?" said Tia, curious.

"Come on...", said Kasady, ignoring the question. "If we can find more, we should be able to power this thing up, and get out of this hellhole. I'll start looking in the dressing room, and you go look in the foyer". With that, she ran off to the far side of the stage.

Tia was confused. As she walked down the stairs and past the rows of chairs, she began thinking.

She knows it was dangerous. Why didn't she tell me about it? She couldn't be hiding anything? Ugh, I can't think that. She probably just didn't tell me to not scare me. Yeah, that must be it. Least we can get out of this place now. I'm surprised no trouble appeared while we were here.

Unbeknownst to her, trouble was on it's way.

[Electric Jesus]

OOC: i decided that I'm going to do it in first person, to add to the "feels" if you know what I mean.

Prisoner No. 6570534

Exact time / Location: Unknown

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I stride slowly but steadily across the tarnished metal floor. The door stands before me as his deep, echoing voice urges me towards it. There is filth in need of extermination within this stronghold of sinners. I step up to the door and stand almost nose to nose with it for a moment. A tall, grey-bearded man, sporting a black hat and sunglasses, peers back at me through the distorted reflection in the metal door. I cannot wait any longer; he is urging md on more frantically now. I dare not disobey the word of the lord, lest I face the eternal damnation I myself am preparing to deliver by his will. I raise my right arm to the door knob, and my black leather glove squeaks ever so slightly as I turn my wrist and open the door.

Nobody in the room has noticed my presence before I reach to my vest with both hands and feel my gloved fingers wrap around the handle and triggers or two locked and loaded Colt M1911 pistols holstered to my chest. The latches on the holsters let out the faintest of clicks as they relinquish their grasp on the weapons, permitting me to raise them to shoulder level and take aim. Suddenly the first of the lab-coat wearing men takes notice of me, instantly flagging himself as my first target. Before as he lets out so much as a whimper, there are four flashes and loud bangs as my wrists wrench upwards twice each. He topples over a railing, his once pristine white coat stained red.

The world seems to run in slow motion. There is no doubt that every single one of them knows of my presence. There is a brief moment of panic. Devastation. His voice rings out more frantically than ever. All of them.

Slowly stepping sideways as I unload my weapons on the room full of men, two nearly simultaneous clicks ring out, barely audible over the chaos taking place in the laboratory. By the time the two Pistols have clattered to the ground I am already taking aim with my second set of newly unholstered weapons: a pair of .44 Magnim revolvers. However there is no need. The only motion remaining in this room apart from that of myself is a single swivel chair, still rotating slowly as its former occupant lays motionless on the floor, along with his half dozen or so former colleagues.

I stare around, taking in the scene. Who was I to question his motives? These men were obviously sinners of the worst sort, to be deserving of this fate. And I? I am merely a vessel through which the lord touches our world. I bow my head and make the sign of the cross before I reholster my weapons, and stooping to retrieve my first two. I fix them to my chest above the pair of magnums, and scan the lab one final time before turning on my heel and whipping through the doorway. my work here is done, but there is much more, so much more that must be done. Already he is whispering to me, telling me my next task. With it fresh in my mind, I set off calmly across the metal floor once again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

[Faust]

((OOC: Apologies with any spelling issues here. I kept having to restart my work in a fit of rage after being continually struck with the idea of my work not being good enough, so I am forcing myself to just post what I have now before I end up deleting it. XD)

--------------------------------------------------

1969

On Year after Missile Impact

Middle America

Oh… Dammit… Jack is going to kick my ass… Am I alright? Neck? Fine. Arms? Working? Breasts?... Check.

Sissy came to still in a haze as she found herself awakening on the steering wheel of an armored vehicle. The lights flickering on the dashboard the were all that illuminated the cabin. As she lifted her head pain shot through her from the back of shoulder blades to her lower back.

Just some minor whiplash, nothing too major… At least, nothing major compared to the immediate danger at hand.

She brushed her pitch black hair out of her eyes as she looked back at herself in the nearest sidemirror. While she had seen herself countless times before since the missles struck, she still seemed unfamiliar. Her once long, swooped hair had been hacked down the length of her chin. Two jagged scars swept under each of her eyes before dropping down her cheek and past her neck, leaving a pair of pale streaks that stood out against her tanned complection. Her eyes were what set her apart however. As she looked back at herself, she could look into them once again. They were tinted an almost malachite-green, with several rings of different shades and hues standing apart within her irises. Once upon a time, each ring seemed to glow with a different emotion, all resonating in one lively spark that anyone could see. That time had long since passed.

Okay, okay, just try to remember here. My name, what’s my name? Sissy, that’s right. And right now I am… I am…

A low, throatily groan echoed from outside the locomotive, the sort of groan that you would recognize even in the state of vertigo and disorientation that Sissy was limited to. She huffed in a gasp of air to power through the pain as she rose from the wheel, looking out through the windshield. Her head bobbed up and down as she was forced to bite her tongue to prevent her from fading out again. A massive spider crack obstructed the view through the shatter-proof glass, yet she could just barely see out into the world beyond the cabin of the vehicle.

Darkness was all that looked back.

For a terrifying instant, he shook in fear that she had been killed on impact. Steadily though, her eye’s dilated to the darkness of this world. The inky clock gave way to a thick, ash filled fog. The obstacle they had struck materialized in the fog, settling in the form of a ruined streetcar. As she glared at the hulk of torn metal, a set of two blue wisps cut through the fog. Then another four. Then another five. She continued to eye the darkness until fifteen sets of two glowing wisps shown back at her. Sissy rubbed her eyes in disbelief, but there before her the same thirty lights hearkened back. She looked to her left on the passenger side. A man in uniform sat there, collapsed in an incapacitated slump.

“Jack!” she barked as she pawed at his seemingly lifeless body, “Jack, come one, we gotta get moving now!”

She felt a warm tear building in the corner of her eye as a sob began to knot in her throat. She bit down hard on her tongue to keep the feeling locked down inside. Much to her relief however, the soldier shook to life before turning over and looking over at her.

“Shit,” he recollected, “Sissy, you alright?”

“Fine, I’m fine. We need to get out of here, now. Do you have your rifle?”

Jack ran his hand across Sissy’s forehead, retracting it to show her the blood he had whisked away that she had failed to notice.

“You’re bleeding” he observed has he bent over and began searching near his feet, “Where you out too?”

“I think so,” Sissy answered, working to undo her seatbelt, “Only for a moment or two though. We need to get out of here, now.”

Jack located his M16 and stat back up in his seat. More moans and groaning built in the void of ash and fog as Sissy tried her door, shoving it open with all of her weight to no avail. She tugged at her hair in frustration as Jack swung open the passenger side door and shouldered his weapon before dropping out of the vehicle and onto the road. The wreak infrastructure of the surrounding city left the road cracked and broken. The two could catch the scent of burning flesh on the wind, though they could not tell where it was coming from. It was as if the air itself smelt of death and brimstone. Sissy followed Jack out of the vehicle landing on her feet before adjusting her top to keep it from coming off. She looked back at the vehicle, a military M35 transport truck. It sat there, unmoving, as if it had been struck dead by a mighty blow to the head. The rear of the vehicle was tarped over, protecting any supplies from falling off in case of bumpy road conditions.

“Check the back, grab whatever you can," Jack ordered as he pulled back the bolt to his rifle, "We are going to drop any deadheads in the area, and make a break for whatever shelter we can find. From there, we can radio Hexium and get him to send us transport.”

“There are others alive then, right?” the girl asked as she walked to the rear of the vehicle and climbed up into the back. Within there was a multitude of barrels of water, boxes of food, stacks of weaponry, and homeopathic provisions. A Russian-made RPD lay stacked against the side of the truck, with several bands of ammunition wrapped around it. With a grunt she lifted the weapon and swung it over her right shoulder, tucked the ammunition around her waist, and loaded her pockets with as many packages of medical supplies she could fit before hopping back down out of the lorry and into the street.

“Are there more of us? Shit, how far did you get sent back this time?”

“I remember… I …” without thinking, she placed her free hand across her chest. Her charm necklace felt warm against her skin. Calmly she took a breath, holding it tightly for a moment.

"Kid," Jack spoke as he removed his helmet, revieling his dirt-caked hair, "What am I going to do with you?"

Just then, the first creature lumbered into sight. The being was grotesque, even in the low visibility of the fog in the midnight hours. By the light of its glowing eyes, a warped, sunken skull sat in place of what would be a face as its hunched form burdened itself to shamble nearer and nearer.

“You remember these guys, right?” Jacked quized as he threw his helmet and aimed for the beast.

Sissy nodded and placed the stock of her weapon against her hip. With a deep breath, she took a stable stance and pulled the trigger, unleashing a flurry of bullets that tore through the monster as if an invisible dull blade had ripped its flesh asunder. Another loomed into view, this time leaving Jack to fire a three round burst into the creature’s neck, sawing it’s head off in a splatter of flesh and coagulated blood. Still more came into view as the two turned to one another, quickly realizing just how much trouble they were in.

[Undead]

Kasady immediately felt a painful shock, yet soothing hum vibrate off the locket as she draped the locket around her neck. She could almost feel everything within the room in the palm of her hands, the generators, the chairs, the podium, the very building itself; all as it felt before. She tried to stay focused as she realized the element stones seemed to be the source of power for the teleporter, remembering the raw stone she had encountered several nights in upon their arrival at the mysterious theater. She quickly ran off to grab it, leaving Tia terribly confused and a bit paranoid as well.

Kasady ran back towards the main room they have been staying in since they arrived, peeking to see if Tia followed, she quickly looked up at a high wooden ledge that stuck out of the wall. Holding her hand towards it, a rugged cardboard box began to slide into view and gently float down to Kasady. It felt good, almost requiring no effort at all with a fresh jolt of energy. Grabbing the box, Kasady hurried back to Tia.

Tia didn't know whether to be more concerned or happy to see Kasady return with a box with a considerably large chunk of raw 115 that she didn't even know about, but realizing they we're a lot closer to getting out of this dreaded city, she was more eager than paranoid. At least Kasady seemed remotely happy for the first time in weeks. Tia couldn't recall ever seeing a genuine smile on Kasady's face since they met. The girls parted in search of anymore stranded fragments to get all the power they could get, as they both thought it could be their only attempt given the worse case scenario. The last thing they needed was a squadron of Nazi soldiers pounding down the door. Or worse, Walter.

...

29 hours earlier...

Nazi patrols wandered the streets, fatigued by the late hours of the night. Nothing has happened in days, and they we're scheduled to depart Berlin 5 days ago, yet, none of them really knew why or bothered to question as their commander seemed curiously occupied with Berlin, after all, they weren't fed or sheltered for asking questions. The condition of the war so far has done a number on the German troops.

"Pair of kings, you lose again. Hand over your canteen."

A pair of patrols sat under an awning of a deserted cafe playing cards over an empty crate of what used to be supplies. The faint orange glow from the rusted metallic lantern and their burning cigarettes was the only light they had as the night gave birth to a new moon. How they were expected to properly patrol on a night like this was beyond any soldier at this point.

"Bah, i'm done anyways... You'll strip me naked if I keep playing zis damn game!" The soldier joked passively, throwing his canteen as the other soldier as he chuckled.

"Ha! Where you goin?"

"Back to ze truck for more shit for you to steal!"

The soldier laughed again, throwing the canteen back,

"Zen fill zis up while your at it!"

"Get your own damn liquor!"

The soldier began to walk away with a drunken laugh and sigh as he made his way down the dark street, taking a last huff of his cigarette before flicking the bud. Muttering old German songs in his head as he strolled down the street, he noticed a faint figure on top of a debris pile at the base of the tilted buildings.

He paused, trying to study what he could make out, slowly withdrawing his p38 from his hollister. He walked cautiously towards the figure, gripping his gun tightly.

He could hear clusters of rocks, metal and brick tumbling down the pile of debris, the figure was wearing a German uniform, tattered and dirty, his hair was tangled and messy and was missing a left boot. The soldier looked extremely perplexed as he quietly watched the man rapidly and violently scrapping at the pile of debris. He looked almost insane from what he could tell by the back of him. The soldier called out to him;

"Hey! Vat are you doing, soldier?" He exclaimed; the figure immediately paused in place with a groggy gasp, then quickly turned;

*gasp*

The soldier jumped at the repulsive figure looking back, his face was torn and scarred, his hands blooded and shredded, his eyes bloodshot and dilated, almost as though he hasn't in so much as blinked, yet alone slept in days. His arms and legs we're gashed, how the man was still standing was remarkable in and of itself. The soldier hesitated, then held the pistol in front of him. Before he could even speak, the corrupt soldier withdrew his pistol and fired with no hesitation whatsoever, and proceeded to dig, leaving the soldier cold as a pool of blood creeped out from under him.

"Mu...must.... ke...keep...di..di...digging!" The man quivered and muttered repeatedly. A pile of rock suddenly fell loose after the man removed a large chunk of cement off the top. The man paused again, looking curious with another quick gasp.

*CRRRRACK!*

more pieces went flying in various direction and a battered hand emerged from the debris. The man smiled and swiftly uncovered the body until it forced its way free, breaking into a coughing fit as it crawled onto the cold solid street ground.

"Wh...Walter...." the man muttered with a smile.

Walter, standing on his hands an knees, caked in dust and rubble began to catch his breath. He slowly made his way to his feet, dusting himself off as he rose.

"Walter..." the man muttered again, Walter smiled devilishly.

"Give me the gun."

The man quickly reached into his hollister and handed Walter his pistol. He cocked the pistol, then turned;

"Thank you, Soldier." Walter saluted the corrupt and torn man and shot him from the hip.

"Your salvation, as I promised you." He spoke coldly, putting the gun in his hollister under his torn trench coat.

Walter picked on his dusty hat, and walked on with a grin.

"Now, where was I?"

[MyLittleHellhound]

Shizune Ikezawa

Japan

August 18, 1969

There was a click of locks as the heavy wooden door swung open, reinforced with sheets of rusty metal, nails, and various other things. It rendered the entrance nearly invisible under the wreckage of the tall, once sparkling condominium that had housed Japan's middle and upper class individuals. The small girl stepped out carefully, quietly eating the last piece of her breakfast. Her deep purple eyes darted around and scanned her surroundings constantly like she was on the run. But wasn't everyone these days? The old, dented M1911 sat in a leather holster at her hip on a hardy belt she had picked up from the old department store, which was now overrun. Her flat black shoes padded silently on the ground. In the distance, she heard a loud crumbling noise as one of the skyline buildings toppled, a mushroom cloud of dust growing where it was.

Shizune winced slightly. Loud noises made her nervous. People made her nervous. But what was human contact? She didn't know anymore. Not since . . . not since the missiles fell. 2 years ago. She was 17 when it happened, and now? What was she? 19? Something like that. Most of her time was scavenging and waiting. Waiting for what though? For someone to save her like in a fairy tale? She was smart enough to know that wouldn't happen.Oh yes, she was smart. Very smart. So smart she had . . . . graduated at the top of her class . . . which was now incinerated. But, what she possessed in grades she also carried in ingenuity. One may have thought that the strange, deadly looking bracers on her forearms were simply child's play but they actually were quite complicated, complicated enough to serve its purpose. Two sharp and serrated knives, carefully polished, sharpened, and in near new condition sat snugly in their separate holders. Her hands were free, able to manipulate things while those knives could punch through the undead. She wasn't afraid of them. Was she? No. She'd read many books on that subject. They were simply things in her way. But now wasn't the time for such thoughts. She had to find some supplies, and maybe some gun oil, and maybe . . . yeah she needed a lot of things.

Stepping out of her reverie, Shizune took a long path and ended up in the old city. Her city. Her home. Dust swirled around her feet, old newspapers, toys, bits of concrete. Every passing year it seemed to get worse. More buildings collapsed. Lava sizzles across the streets. The the undead . . . they were always here. Moaning, shuffling, clogging the old paths she used to walk with her friends. They were like a plague. The girl further traveled into a small, decrepit store. Its treasures had not yet been unlocked. The slender Japanese woman slipped through the broken glass door, eyes once again scanning for danger. The orange skies swirled and light shone dimly through the bullet holes in the wall. The shelves were spoiled, knocked over, dusty, and some had blood spattered on them. She rummaged through the shelves and put them carefully into a lightweight bag, meticulously as if they were eggs. Just as she was finishing up, the sun began to set. Shizune searched around once again, nervous. The zombies were faster at night. Or were they just scarier? No. She wasn't scared. Nu-uh. Shizune get out of your thoughts! Stop! Something's going to- The zombie shuffled towards her and lunged, salivating jaws snapping open and closed like a frantic fish. Razor sharp, plagued, diseased teeth snapped centimeters from her neck as the girl spun around and punched the zombie, a vicious uppercut that punctured through the bottom of its jaw and through to the brain. The tip of the blade glimmered wickedly out of the top of its skull, shining through the matted hair. She pulled it out with little effort and the figure dropped to the ground in a heat. Black blood leaked out onto the cracked white tiles, seeping through the minute fissures like small red rivers. She returned to the shelves, her heart rate faster when she suddenly heard the sound . . . of a human voice. It was so foreign to her, so foreign to hear a real life voice. She sprinted towards it lightly, her feet now pattering on the concrete. She slid behind a concrete block and watched the scene unfold. One figure, slender like her, a bit taller however, in a black dress. The zombies a living mass of teeth and hands in front of her. What could Shizune do? Would she . . . save the person? But the fissure separated them already. She didn't like people. She didn't like them. Not one bit. No. People made her nervous. She liked being alone. She liked being ALONE. In this quiet world. Her world. Her home. The cry brought her back to the present again and she half stood up, crouching back down again as the girl hauled herself over the side of the fissure. Her side of the fissure. Shizune gulped and retracted back into the shadows as the figure sprinted past her. It was a woman, maybe a little older than her. Nice looking black hair. Asian. Human.

[Tac]

Date: February 17, 1967

I tell my father I'm going to an abandoned facility in Germany, known as Der Riese, to do research for the college class over Russian Studies that I instructed. My comment is met with silence, and I ask him why. He explains to me that the reason he never wrote to me all those years was because he was working under the American government to infiltrate Der Riese as a Russian ally. I didn't know what to say, so he continued explaining. He said that he started his work there in mid-1940, after basic training, and gained intelligence over the next year in regards to the German Wunderwaffe program.

He said that things got shaky in summer of 1941 when Adolf Hitler invaded the Soviet Union in Operation Barbarossa, making all the German scientists skeptic of the Russian affiliations inside Group 935, so they began to eliminate all they could. He knew the danger he was in, so he spent three days plotting his escape, eventually finding a cracked door and working his way into the open. He hid in the brush and waited for a German soldier to walk by, snapping his neck with ease. The suit was a bit large, but he could pull a story about losing weight.

He found a truck, hot-wired it, and left the complex. He drove due West for miles until he could find a Russian squadron to team up with. When he found them, he changed back into his Russian uniform and asked the squadron if they could get him in contact with the Americans. They found the nearest platoon and he stayed with them for the next four years until they pulled out troops in 1945. He boarded the plane back to the homeland and when the government found out he was back, they assumed the worst. I asked him to stop, as I knew how the rest unfolded.

When I landed in Breslau, Germany, I got a hotel and began to unpack my boxes of binders, data, information, and miscellaneous items. I stumbled across the cloth that the woman named Tia used on my wound, but I noticed an odd symbol on it this time. It was ripped, but from the part I could see, there was an a symbol I recognized as an atom. I didn't think much of it, but I stuck it in my pockets anyway and headed out to the facility. Upon arrival, I searched for a few hours and stumbled across what looked like a large tarp, tan in color. There was a little chunk missing near the top-left corner, and I noticed it was the same hue as what was in my pocket.

I pulled it out and placed it there, when I saw the rest of the atom drawing. It was actually a hand clutching the atom, with numbers I couldn't read inside of them. I pulled away the cloth to reveal what looked like a huge metal door, and I was perplexed by it. The second I opened that door, I was on my ass and felt dizzy. The pain in my head became excruciating again, and I passed out from all the pain I was experiencing.

When I woke up a few hours later, something was off. I asked my father if he was still there and he said yes, so I knew that wasn't it. There was a plume of gas and smoke filled in the room, and I closed my eyes when I sensed another being here with me. I tried to force the feeling and I began to feel rocks and other types of rubble. I forced myself farther and farther into the feeling, and suddenly I could hear a ringing with a slight smell of something burning. Lastly were the eyes and I realized that this wasn't my body I was having this experience in, because all I could see were ones and zeros strewn everywhere...

[Undead]

The loose, peppered soil of the dry crumbling land of a late summer's ground felt heavier by the minute as Andrew shoveled new holes in the garden for squash and pumpkins for the upcoming Fall season holidays. His arms beginning to tremble under the weight of the shovel as he sliced through his last hole, planting the rusted shovel into the ground, leaning on it as he wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead from a long day of direct sunlight and labor. He glanced up at the house, squinting through the rays of the afternoon sun wondering if Maggie would bring him an ice-cold glass of water anytime soon...

"Hey trooper!" Maggle suddenly called from behind.

Andrew gasped, before even realzing it was Maggie, he suddenly vanished and instantly reappeared in front of Maggie, holding the shovel over his head ready to swing. Maggie never flinched. Andrew let out a breathe of relief, releasing his grip from the handle and bringing the rusty tool back down beside him.

"Huh, guess we're even now. Except for the part where you about knocked 'ol Maggie's head clean off!" Margrette joked, setting a glass of ice water on a wooden stump near the shed. Her attitude changed though as she saw the look of genuine horror in his eyes before coming to the consensus it wasn't a threat. Andrew apologized softly as be picked up the glass and gulped down the water, Maggie just watched, curious about what really happened to him back when, what life was like, and if he knew him... Andrew finished the water, thanking Maggie as he handed the glass back to her. She patted his shoulder with a faint smile;

"You betcha' slick, next time you'll know better than to sneak up on 'ol Aunt Maggie, huh?" She said with a warm smile and a wink.

"Now clean yourself up, kids should be here any minute. So if you want some lunch, you better hurry!" Maggie assured, walking back to the house. Andrew smiled. He always felt sorry for her, dealing with her husbands death due to the war. He couldn't leave, even if he knew where to go. He was just as lost as she was.

[MegaAfroMan]

Date: February 17, 1967

Location: Der Riese Facility

Repair status complete. Running system diagnostic.

At that moment the metallic hulk began to come to life. Hands clenched and unclenched, joints were tested, and he began to get up. With tremendous effort he hauled himself into an upright position and began to take a grasp on his surroundings.

Error. Unsupported format located within biological processor. Data appears corrupt. Attempting to troubleshoot.

Where am I?

Location: Der Riese Facility

The robot jumped slightly almost as if it was startled by something.

What the hell was that? Oh god. Something isn't right...

The robot began to look downward at his own hands. He began studying them over intensely, with what could almost be recognized as panic on his face.

What is this?! What kind of nightmare have I entered? The last I remember... the last... I don't. I don't remember...

Unsupported format. Files unable to display properly.

Shit! There it is again.

Life-form detected nearby. Beginning combat sequence.

What? Who? Where? Why combat?

The machine haphazardly began to trudge forward approaching a man about 6'2", of Russian appearance.

"HALT. You have entered a re-re-restricted area. State your identity now, or prepare to be detained and/or executed."

I'm sorry...

[Tac]

Looking at a pair of scratched hands with what looked like metal underneath, I fully grasped what was happening. I was able to experience that of anyone near me. I pulled myself out of whatever was happening in my head to see a creature running through the blown door, right at me, clearly upset about something. I looked at the hands, noticed they were metallic, and realized this was the man, or whatever he was, I was hacking into the sensory system of.

"Nooo!" I yelled, I knew he could rip me to shreds with little trouble, I needed to save my life... "Don't hurt me, please, I'm just here for research for a college course I teach." The creature didn't stop, so as it attacked me I had to dodge him and think of a way to make him understand. This was going to be difficult, how can this be done?

Perhaps I could prove my strength, dual it out with him? No, that would end in my demise. Could this be the end of me? No, I wouldn't let it be. The fire was still billowing from the explosion, so I stood too close for comfort and allowed him to run at me, quickly jumping out of the way and having him land in the fire. He came out with his flesh on fire, revealing more and more of his metallic underside, glowing red hot.

He was absolutely furious at this point, and I needed a new plan. He charged a few more times and I dodged the best I could, trying to think of what do to as well as listen to my fathers' advice. I tried my same tactic as before to buy me time, and he crashed into the wall, having it crumble on him and I waited a few minutes to see what would happen. He wasn't moving, and I didn't want to stay for the aftermath, so I left to my apartment for more bad dreams...

[floofy55]

"Hey Dempsey."

"Yeah Dempsey?"

"What's it like being crazy?"

"I don't know, Dempsey, what is it like?"

"Well, it's an odd experience."

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing, you're never alone. You always have someone to talk to."

"Aww Dempsey, why would they say you're not nice?"

"I don't know Dempsey, you've always been abhorred though. I guess you're used to it."

"Yeah, kind of lonely, just here with you and whoever else is around here."

"He heh, yeah. Remember that other guy?"

"Oh him? What a control freak!"

"Yeah! Good thing he left."

"What were we talking about again?"

"I actually don't remember."

"Meh. What else is new Dempsey?"

"Oh, you know, just the end of the world.

"Right, that. Lava and zombies everywhere right?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Dempsey. You were there."

"True."

"So how you holding up Dempsey?"

"Pretty well, I guess. I miss Tia though."

"You know she's probably dead right?"

........

"Dempsey?"

"Don't ever. Say that. Again."

"Heh, what are you going to do Dempsey? Nothing? That's all you've ever been able to do. Nothing"

"You're wrong!"

"Worthless. That's all you are, Dempsey. No one cares about you, no one will, and if anyone ever did, they're obviously dead."

"Shut up Dempsey."

"Why should I Dempsey? If I'm saying it you know it's true."

"Shut up Dempsey."

"Oh, please tell me why I should."

"SHUT UP YOU TWO!"

............

"D'you say that?"

"No."

[Rissole25]

Tia Rydia

Berlin

1942

Dust flittered around as Tia entered the foyer. The once bubbling room was now dead silent, the only noises coming from cars around the area, and her footsteps echoing greatly in the hall.

Almost immediately, she spotted the familiar glow. To her left in a small corner, in-cased in circular display glass was a small chunk of Element 115. She looked at it and wondered just why it was like that. She gathered that these 935 people were showcasing the teleporter, and that the element must've been on display for the people.

Pretty stupid. They could've easily stolen it like this

She walked over swiftly and attempted to lift the glass up, but to no avail. Screws had been placed around it to keep it down.

Hmmm...Ah!

She grabbed her rod from her back and readied her self. She took a deep breath, raised the pole above her, and brought down the steel against the glass.

CCCRRRRAASSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!

Okay, maybe not...

The rod had bounced off, vibrating with such force that Tia dropped it unless she wanted to lose her arms. It clanked on the ground and rolled for some time before slowing to a stop. She looked back at the glass, and not a crack appeared in sight.

"Okay...now what?", she said aloud. She picked up her rod, and paced around into the center of the foyer. A large chandelier hung above her, rocking ever so slightly. A large window near the roof lined the wall, daylight invading through them. She looked around, and noticed a bar. Walking over to it, she noticed another one of those 'Perk-a-Cola' Machines. It was on, and she was tempted to try it out, however Kasady had warned her not to try these machines. So she followed her advice, and ignored the blue light and humming of it. She looked down in the bar, looking for a screw driver so she could undo the screws. Several bottles came into view, a blue, red, green and yellow one. Pushing them aside, she noticed a yellow handled screw driver, and pulled out, smiling to herself.

================================================================================================

Raolf Chasings "Chase"

America

1969

The air smelled of soot and ash. Flesh and blood. Death and despair. And yet, it did not discourage Chase from moving on. The young man trekked the highway with his backpack slung around his shoulder. The ground was cracked and unstable, and he walked on the road so he could use it as a marker to see where he was going. The sky always had an orange tinge to it now. Sometimes it was thick and full of fog, other times you could at least a kilometer around you, though the sky would always stay orange.

Continuing on foot, the young man had not encountered other humans for quite some time. It had been, what, 3 or 4 months since he had left the shelter? The others had begged him to stay, but he couldn't. He had to keep looking for Jessica.

He slowed down to a stop. Noticing a couple of dead trees off a little ways from the road, he began thinking.

I have to find Jessica. But it's near nightfall, and those things flourish during those times. I better camp for the night.

Disappointed, he promised to himself to be up and early looking for her. Sighing, he walked over to the dead trees off the road, side stepping the cracks in the uneven ground. Once he got there, he checked his surroundings. Nothing was around in the immediate vicinity. The only thing he could see was the road in the distance, and that was soon vanishing with the thickening fog.

"Okay..", muttered Chase. He closed his eyes, and tried focusing his thoughts. Opening them, he raised his arms at the trees, and began moving and swaying them.

The trees jolted as if they had been woken from a long slumber. Dead branches grew from the base of the trees, intertwining and growing larger with each second passed. The grey ash wood was soon reviving, turning into a lush brown colour that complimented the orange atmosphere. As the branches intertwined, small sticks started growing from them, and with them, leaves rapidly grew. It was the creation of something beautiful, something eloquent...something that would keep Chase safe tonight. The tree began to form a recognizable tree house. He had been creating these every night ever since he discovered his power.

He was nearly finished, slowing the trees down so he could get the architecture right. Holding the trees in place, Chase walked around the base of the trees, making sure everything was safe and he'd done it right. After doubling the thickness of one of the back branches to cover a gap he missed, he returned to the front, walking underneath his modification. Reaching the front of it, he grabbed a branch that jutted out from the rest, and began pulling it. Walking with it, the branch kept extending and extending, small juts appearing on the top of it. He stopped, and dropped the branch, turning around to admire his creation.

The once dead trees now formed the base of his temporary home. Structurally strong, they held up what looked like a giant bush. The leaves and branches had been grown and moved to create a dome like shape, with a small manhole for him to crawl through. The branch he had just pulled out was made into makeshift stairs, and so he walked up them towards the entrance. Stopping at the base of the whole he picked off a leaf from a hanging branch, holding it closely to admire it.

Hmm...I don't recognize this one. I haven't been here before than.

Opening his backpack, he grabbed a book title Flora of the World. The book was looking a little worse for wear. A few smudges here and there, it had lost a bit of colouration, and there were a few rips in it. But it was generally still good.

Chase opened the book, and landed automatically in the America section of the book. He had bookmarked it since he was in the country anyway. Flicking through pages, he finally stopped when an image of a tree had similar leaves to the leaf he was holding.

The...Western Larch. Or the Larix occidentalis. Interesting, I've never seen these ones before.

Near the bottom of the page was a small map of where the Western Larch was native too.

Wow! I have come a long way...that means I'm in Oregan. So close now.

He smiled to himself, and was about to head inside, when he heard an undesirable sound. He whizzed around, and noticed a staggering figure slowly walking in the distance. The blue glowing eyes gave away that it was a zombie.

"Shit", Chase muttered. His brass knuckles were on his right hand. He could easily walk over to it and do it's head in. But he wasn't in the mood. Instead, he had another idea. Breaking a twig off his dwelling, he held it into his hands and forced his mind again. The twig started growing longer and thicker, about the size of a short spear. Forming the ends of it into sharp points, he raised his arm back and took aim. The zombie had no idea what struck it. The wooden spear hit it's temple with such a force that the head came off and struck the ground. The body stumbled from the force, though it was hard to tell since the body kept walking as if nothing happened. Within a couple of seconds, it slowed down to the point where it collapsed to the ground and remained motionless.

Chase smirked and crawled inside, bringing the stairs back up to cover the entrance with a motion of his hand. He did not want intruders.

[Undead]

Andrew watched as the school bus pulled up to drop off the children from their first day off school and nearly tackle Maggie who had a plate stacked with sandwiches. He turned with a smirk as he went to put his shovel and gloves in the shed. It was now or never if he wanted anything to eat, she said. Andrew walking across the field when he noticed Maggie's perplexed expression focused towards the sky behind him, he stopped, turning his immediate attention to the clouds above. A smoking ball of flame plummeted down towards the land behind the mountains, several more followed.

Suddenly, the rusted and worn sirens, which haven't rang in a couple decades, crackled to life.

Maggie rapidly gathered the children and demanded they hid inside the house, Andrew stood fixed, recongizing those objects from the war, they were missles, large missles. Andrew could barely begin to breathe, yet alone begin to wonder where on earth they came from or why. His eyes emitted a bright yellow as the first missile struck in the horizon, a distant thunderous boom followed short after. A monsterous smoke cloud began to emerge, followed by a wave of sudden force that leveled the trees in the distance, coming ever closer to the town, Buildings began to shake and quiver, vehicles toppled and rolled down the streets, and Andrew watched in horror, watching as the town fled, but he already knew they were all doomed.

"ANDREW!" Maggie cried, he cry came to a distant echo, and then stopped.

*gasp*

...

Andrew turned slowly, his body aching from shock. He turned to face a frozen Aunt Margrette, clinging on tightly to the doorway from inside and her children clenched on to her trousers, all with innocence and horrorified grim looks on their faces. He could still feel the pressuring winds echo as the force of the missile were too great, they still slowly erupted, pushing through towards the town. This was all he knew. All he cared about. Nothing made sense until he landed here and for the first time since the war, he was happy. Lost and didn't care.

Andrew's nose began to bleed, it was too much to hold back any longer. He couldn't watch them die, but he couldn't risk the chance of a blind jump, not again. And where would he go? When would he go? Making a jump in time still bothered Andrew. Every leap that large was like starting life anew once again. Andrew let out a tear as he rubbed the frozen arms of all of the family his come to care for as his own.

"I love you."

...

[MyLittleHellhound]

Ji Eun

Japan

August 18, 1969

It was evening. Or so she thought. Ji couldn't tell the time anymore, because clouds covered the sun and the stars and the moon. She just followed her sleep schedule, the hectic half-sleep but always ready to bolt if she heard the shuffle of feet. As the young woman continued into urban Japan, the world darkened, only lit by the fires and lava sizzling on the streets. The moans of zombies echoed faintly, always following her, the constant companion that shredded away at her senses and sanity. Her shoes clicked along the pavement as she passed a broken antique shop. A piano was flipped onto the sidewalk and papers were scattered across the sidewalk. It was saddening really, to her. She loved pianos. The shattered one on the sidewalk was just a relic, a symbol of what had happened to her life. She'd liked guys. She was shy around them. She had friends. They went out to dinner. She had performed in front of audiences. They had cheered at her performances. But all of that would never happen again. She would never play the piano, never could play it. A faint clatter roused her from her reminiscence as she turned her head and held her sword out in front of her. The dark alleyway separating the smashed antique store and crumbling drug store churned, a void that seemed to draw her gaze. She thought she saw a form, slightly humanoid, small and slender. It reminded her of herself when she was younger. But the figure . . . it wasn't a child.

". . . hello?" she said tentatively.

The figure stopped moving, their barely visible outline swerving in and out of her focus. A zombie stumbled out from a store behind her, snarling as it edged towards her direction.

"Please . . . I won't hurt you . . ." she began to look around as more and more made their way towards her, another horde that she could not escape by some fissure.

She saw the glint of intelligent eyes as the shadow considered.

"I don't . . . I don't know where I am . . . I'm . . . lost . . ."

Her voice had a pleading note to it as she turned and shot the closest zombie in the head, dropping it to the street. There were more zombies coming every minute now and more shots rang out from her gun. Ji turned to the figure one last time and dropped her empty pistol.

"I . . . I see how it is."

She turned back to the zombies and calmed herself down (as much as she could) before beginning a song. It started out slow, building up energy before booming outwards in a wave of destruction. Shizune, hidden in the shadows, widened her eyes as the zombies were blasted backwards from the woman in front of her. They hit each other, hit the streets, hit everything as the wave fell like dominoes. Ji stumbled back, exhausted as more zombies came towards them.

"That's . . . that's all I got. I guess this is goodbye." she said sadly to Shizune as she drew her sword.

Shizune panicked as the girl started to walk forward, twirling her sword above her head.She couldn't just leave her! That woman's blood would be on her hands! She could . . . bring her. Maybe. Maybe. Companions though. Humans. Human contact. No. No. Yes! No. No! Yes! She had to! Shizune couldn't just . . . she couldn't just let her die! The timid girl wrung her hands together.

Ji didn't feel scared anymore, she just felt tired. Tired of running. Tired of having to be on edge. Maybe death would finally quell that. She ducked under the first zombie's swing and cut it in half, not even stopping as she dodged another attack and cut off both of its arms before kicking it away. She would fight until she died. A zombie's hand tore her dress and she thrust the sword into its mouth and out the back of its head. Black blood spurted into the air as she ripped it out and cut off a leg. They were all around her now, just dying to feed on her.

A figure suddenly blurred through the zombies, punching and kicking everything around it as it finally reached Ji. It was a girl, shorter than her, with deep purple eyes and hair. She caught a glimpse of a white scar running down her face, almost hidden by the strands of hair.The girl took hold of Ji and suddenly they were flying through the horde and on to clear streets.

"Run."

Ji started to sprint after the girl, who was quicker than she was. They ran for some time as the zombies stumbled after them and finally, they reached a pile of debris. Old condominiums towered around them. The girl paused, looking around and opening the near-invisible entrance. She disappeared and Ji hurried in after her before the girl closed the door with a resounding "BOOM". And then the knives were at her throat.

[Undead]

Kasady rummaged through the clothes and boxes lying around the dressing room for anymore fragments of the meteor but found nothing but piles of documents and empty containers. The chests were filled with notes or journals as well as some empty bottles, most dressers were empty or filled with scraps, nothing.

"Dammit!" Kasady cursed under her breathe.

She pressed her hands on the edge of nearby end table in frustration. She could feel the vibration of the locket growing more intense, hear it hum, almost as if it were sensing something. Kasady glanced down at the locket in curiousity. She suddenly feel a sharp pain and cringed;

Hahahahaha"

"UGH... c'mon! Not now!" Kasady muttered angrily, her hands beginning to quiver as her fingers slowly curled into a fist.

"What's wrong child? You look a little tense...

"Get out of my HEAD!" Kasady grunted, pounding her fist through the table, sending it across the room.

The numbing pain in her head suddenly stopped, Kasady slowly eased herself, then noticed a shadow in front of her, she quickly turned;

"Looking for something?"

Walter stood devilishly, still wearing his rugged torn uniform and dirty hat with a sinister smile, holding another large fragment in his palm.

*gasp*

Tia jumped as she suddenly heard a crash from behind the theater, wooden planks suddenly exploded from the wall of the dressing room. She quickly grabbed the fragment and made her way back towards the theater, her eyes widened as she saw Kasady tumble on to the stage seemingly lifeless as Walter climbed out of the newly formed hole in the wall.

"It's showtime."