Survive Official RP

Aaron knew that if he stayed in this house, all the zombie would be coming after him and he would be trapped. He had to think fast, really fast. Aaron' Mind flickered. He had an idea, but it was risky. He stared at the fence, he knew how tall it was and how long it took to climb up it. When he was a kid, he used to climb the fence, once, he got stuck on it after he realized looking down wasn't a good idea. Now, 17, Aaron knew that he still had the fears of height. He climbed it, without looking down, jumped down and started running to the next home and stayed there.

When Aaron opened the door, he soon realized there was his Zombie neighbor in there. "Huh, I though they said they left out to the country side, I guessed they lied." Aaron Said as he quickly brought out his handgun and shot the zombie straight through the head and opened the door to the home. It was quite roomy, had enough space for about 20 people, but 15 would've been good.

Ivan ran into the gun store and quickly plopped his backpack on the ground. Luckily for him, the zombies had yet to overrun the place yet. Ivan instantly recognized an AK-47 on the shelf and grabbed it and used the sling to have it hang in front of him. He grabbed about two dozen pre-loaded mags and stuffed them in his bag. Unfortunately the store didn't have any grenades, but that had to be expected from a random store in a town. It was already pretty lucky that there was a store in New Jersey that actually sold rifles so soon after the gun laws had been revised.

Ivan found a tactical belt and put it on, sticking two mags into it, and then zipping up his bag, putting it on, and quickly exiting the building, ensuring that no zombies were nearby. He checked the map he brought with him and determined that the nearest military base was several miles north, and so he began the long trek north.

Just north of Ivan, was a struggling Aaron as he was trying to fend off over 50 zombies chasing after him, many were running, but the majority of them were limping ones since he shot the runs running at him. Aaron was running in circles of the home property. He knew if he kept this up longer, he would have ran out of breath and the zombies would get him. "You stupid A-Holes can't get me!" Yelled Aaron.

Hearing gunshots, Ivan quickly loaded and cocked his rifle and ran north. He soon saw the zombies chasing Aaron and fired off a few bursts from his AK to kill about two of them and get the attention of a large portion of those remaining who then began running at Ivan.

Ivan held his ground and fired off several more bursts from his AK and downed most of the zombies chasing him, taking out his knife and stabbing to death one who was trying to crawl his way to Ivan. After reloading his rifle, Ivan continued running towards the house to help Aaron kill what was left of the zombies.

While Aaron was still running, he tripped. He looked to his side and saw a zombie that was cut right in half and had no legs. The zombie was crawling closer and closer to him.
"You damn god forsaken creatures don't deserve a second chance at life!" Yelled Aaron as he shot the Zombie straight through the skull, creating a hole in it's head.

Aaron looked at the new stranger, he noticed it was a young kid the age of 13, about 4 ages younger then him. "Heh, I guess the young are better then the non-living." Said Aaron as he got himself up. Atleast he had a partner in fighting the dead, because going solo was like suicide.

Ivan approached the house and fired off some more bursts from this gun, unloading the entire mag and finishing off what was left of the zombies. He walked up to Aaron and helped him up.

"Ivan Semenovich," he said, with a hint of Russian pronunciation on his last name. "It's good to see someone who isn't trying to eat my brain around here."

"Aaron Kyler, a Zombie specialist I would call myself. How long has it been since I saw a living soul? Heh, since two months ago when my friends were killed. Well, come on, let's get inside to safety where those creatures can't get us." Said Aaron as he patted Ivan's back and brought him into their new home.

Ivan followed Aaron in, placing his two empty mags on a table in one of the more isolated rooms, along with his backpack and rifle.

Ivan said to Aaron, "You know, there's a military base some miles north of here, I think something like twelve. If we can get there, there's a good chance there might be some functional equipment that we could put to use there. Heh, imagine if we could get an M1 Tank from there! BAM!"

"Heh, that would be awesome, though I don't thi-"
Aaron was cut off as he heard a loud rawr come from outside the home. He looked outside and saw a Tank, not a vehicle tank, but a Special Infected Zombie.
"Oh Sh!t! We have to stop that thing before it gets us! You hae an AK-47 right? Go to the windows and shoot it from there and be careful, it will throw things at you. If you ave an extra gun, that would be quite useful since I might need one." Says Aaron as he lent out his hand as if waiting for Ivan to give him a firearm.

I had been sitting in my living room, quietly sipping some black tea from eastern India. I had switched on the radio to the classic station, and rocked back and forth in my chair, completely immersed in my book. In fact, so immersed I didn't hear the radio start bleeping for an emergency broadcast.

It was only when I was halfway through my chapter and the radio had been cut off for about ten minutes that I heard a tinkling of glass. It was probably the neighbor's cat, knocking over a glass next door. I was wrong.

A clammy hand slumped on to my shoulder. I let out a shout of alarm, and jumped off the chair. There stood a man, filthy and decayed, standing in front of me. I was quite shocked before brandishing the poker I had in the fire. The beastial contortion of mass sauntered towards me, and I, shaking, slashed the poker across its face. He slumped towards me, but I thrust the tip quickly in and out, burning a hole in his raggedy clothes.

My name, as I forgot to mention earlier, is Enzo Demarco, and I had just slain my first zombie. For a few moments, I reconciled with the fact that they did exist, but, little time to think. Having no availible weaponry, I slung the steel curtain rod over my shoulder like a staff, and hooked the poker through my belt. Then, I had an idea.

I walked over to the kitchen a retrieved two of my largest dicing knives, and pocketed them in their sheaths. I headed on to the street, a dim lamp flickering in the distance. Ironically, I turned and locked my door and windows... it was a silly hope, that my house might survive.

Signing off,
3DBlenderRender

"All I brought was my AK, I couldn't carry anything else, I was already pretty weighed down. Sorry man," Ivan replied and quickly ran up to the room where he put is equipment. He grabbed and loaded his AK and plopped his backpack by a window for quick access to more mags. He popped up from cover and fired multiple short, controlled, bursts directly as the eyes of the beast, attempting to blind it.

"Ah well, It's alright, I'll just use my handgun, you know, to kill the surrounding zombies that are knocking on the windows. So, you'll kill that giant hulking monster while I go finish off some zombies around us." Sais Aaron as he ran downstairs and outside only to see the Giant Zombie charge at him. He jumped out of the way and shot it in the shoulder, which seemed to have done nothing but anger it. He ran around the house once again trying to get the spec. Infected to knock out some zombies in the meantime.

Failing to blind it, Ivan decided upon another option. He waited until it was right below the window and jumped down onto its back, stuck the barrel of his rifle into the back of its neck, and fired unloaded a mag into it, then pushing off from its back and landing on the ground, albeit painfully.

I strolled down the once beautiful lane... I had often taken nighttime strolls when I couldn't sleep, but now was slightly different. Every sound made me think of that scabbed, sickly corpse.

The light was low, and dim... the path was like a murky puddle - I could see little ahead of me. I had been walking for about fifteen minutes when I paused. With a jolt, I remembered I hadn't packed any food. I could be wandering for days without food. But... was it safe?

A black chamber. A scabbed, prodding corpse, slumping a dead hand over my mouth; it was cold. My eyes rolled back in my head. My knees buckled.

Then, I came back to my senses. "No." I thought, and recovered my balance, squinting back at my obscured house. I muttered to myself that this was a bad, very bad idea, and the darkness continued to close in on me. I walked, my footsteps echoing silently on the pavement. I shivered in the cold, but kept my eyes on my house. It was then I heard it.

A blood-curdling growl, a howl, and I saw a dark shape pounce towards me. I stepped aside, and watched the sickly, deathly man hurtle past me, slamming into the pavement. But no - it was simply a dog. I sighed in relief, and continued walking. My thoughts roamed towards what had caused the dog to come bounding out of it's -

A strong, grey, scabbed hand dragged me back. My heart was pounding, I had to do it now. I twisted out of it's thin fingers, and swung my poker hard on to his wrist. It fell limp to his side, already bruising. However, the gaunt face of an old man continued to stare at me. His eyes had rolled back. Horrified, I stepped back, and the slippery vermin ran towards me.

I drew my stafflike curtainrod from my back, and slammed the metal rod into the sauntering man's head with a 'Crack!' that resounded in the street. "No time to stop." I murmured, stabbing him with the poker, then smashing him in the hip. He crumpled to the ground, and I withdrew the messy poker from him, wiping it clean from the grass.

No man should have withstood that attack. But the man groaned weakly, so I struck hard in the solar plexus. It seemed they were getting stronger as they grew older. I realized I had to get rid of as many as I could ,as quickly as I could.

Heart pounding, I saw several figures pushing at the door of my house, trying to force their way in.

Signing off,
3DBlenderRender

As the hulking monstrosity collapsed, Ivan picked himself up off of the ground, propping himself up on his rifle until he regained his footing. He reloaded his rifle with the last mag in his belt and and cocked it.

As he turned the corner to meet back up with Aaron, he was ambushed by a hideous creature that ripped his rifle right from his hands and threw it to the ground several meters away. Struggling against this superhuman creature, Ivan pulled out his knife and stabbed the zombie in the side of the neck, weakening it enough so that he could push it aside.

Ivan scrambled to his feet and grabbed his AK, twisting around and unloading half a dozen bullets in the chest of the hideous zombie, killing it. Slinging his rifle over his chest, Ivan pulled the knife out of the zombie's neck and wiped it on the grass, re sheathing it in a pocket in his belt.

I glanced around, watching a small cluster of them pound, moaning feebly, at my door. Somehow, though, they seemed to be able to put power into their fists, and my door was starting to crack... now was the time. I ducked behind my bushes, my breaths quick and shallow. I was scared, but determined. My throat caught when I saw them open the door, muttering hopeful, but dreadful groans.

One had no shoes; his slimy, ragged, filthy feet were covered in filth as he set foot on the threshold. Anger bubbled up inside me. No filthy wretch was going to enter my house as long as I was around, so, a leapt out of the bushes, and in the dim light, I saw them more clearly. One's eye was badly smashed, and my stomach churned.

"Hey! Losers!" they all, slowly, rotated their mangled, filthy faces towards me. One of them passed his foot closer to my clean home. I hurled my curtain rod full-force at him, smashing his head to the side, and I heard the crack of his neck. The rod passed him, slamming another aside. The final two lumbered to where I stood. I ran at them as they ran at me, my heart pounding, theirs not at all. I swooped low under them, smashing the first in the shins with my poker iron, then hurled the butcher's knife at the other, who reeled backwards, slumping down onto his companion. The one whom I had smashed in the head with my curtain rod was rising shakily to his legs, and the other was brandishing the long pole at me.

Then, with a sudden movement, one of the zombies behind me stood, his flesh-torn hands closer to my face then I would have liked. At the same moment, the one with my curtain rod threw it, javelin-like, at my face. I whipped aside, and the one who had been clutching his sickly hands on my shoulders moments before was smashed in the face.

I took the shaft, swung it experimentally, and slammed it into the first one's shins, then brought it swiftly upwards into his solar plexus, and twisted it to strike him on the back. With a gasp, I saw the other pull a long, sharp dagger from himself. The sight sickened me, and I swung with the poker, smacking his nose askew. They were all pretty harmless by now, and I went inside, grabbed some food, packed some necessities, barred my door, and pondered over the fate of the zombies on my doorstep.

With the air of an artist, I wiped the blood off of my mailbox where one of them had been struck. I kicked them grumbling, off my property, hoping someone would come by in their truck.

Signing off,
3DBlenderRender

In the distance of Aaron's house, more gunshots were heard as a car's motor and blaring music were heard in the distance.

"Yo Bayne, I'm outta bullets!"
"That's alright, I can see a house up ahead, I think I can se- what the hell-"
A loud crash was heard as the music skipped and finally stopped, and yells of a second tank were heard.

My eyes drooped, and my rod dug into my hunched, cramped back. I trudged along, placing one foot in front of the other with great effort. I felt at least thirty years older; the thing I wanted to do most was sleep. I was sick, from lack of food, and pulled a bread roll from my pack, and scarfed it down. I glanced slowly towards my watch.

With a groan, I realized it was nearly three in the morning, and I'd only managed to kill one zombie. With a sudden plummet, I realized the zombies might already have become invincible. So, I jogged ahead, now zooming in on every suspicion object. With a jolt in my heartbeat, I recognized one wandering on his own.

He was definitely a zombie; his slow, staggered walking and breathing, and a raspy cough. His skin was torn and scabbed, and looked like something pickled from a laboratory. His flesh white white, and with a shiver, I guessed it was probably cold. I withdrew my staff from behind me, running quietly as I could, and impaled it in the back of the zombie.

He groaned in pain, to face me. I had been sure this sudden attack of mine would have killed him, but he turned around, quite fine. Remebering that they would just get stronger and stronger, I brandished my poker iron, and slashed him across the face. He made a move towards me, but I had ducked, whipped around the back, and slammed both of my knives into his neck. His head slumped forward, and I withdrew my staff, and, spinning it to gain momentum, smacked both his arms sharply before smashing it down on his back, which sent him sprawling on the floor.

Feeling this was not enough, I drew the poker from my belt, and whipped his head, which swung limply. Grimply, I turned him over, and stuffed as much grass into his mouth as I could without touching the cold, floppy, moist skin around it's mouth. I supposed suffocating might work, if all that beating hadn't.

I heard a faint sound, far off in the distance. I saw two figures ducking and dodging, holding what seemed to be weapons. They did not have the slow, sauntering, meandering step of zombies, though. They darted about, smacking the occasions lump of flesh known as zombies over the head. I ran forwards, eager for help - eager to find someone... some person... who was like me.

Signing off,
3DBlenderRender

Ivan quickly darted to cover near Aaron after grabbing his 'ammo pack' as he had silently branded it. Jamming a new mag into the gun he started firing off at the huge amounts of zombies moving towards him and Aaron. Suddenly something caught his eye.

He noticed a single man fighting off zombies with nothing but a rod. A single zombie was quietly creeping up on him and Ivan skillfully placed a bullet right in its throat, forcing it to let out a huge moan and collapse on the ground.

While distracted with helping this stranger, a zombie climbed over the cover Ivan was behind and pinned him to the ground, swinging its arms down at his head. Ivan put up his arms in defense, grabbing those of the zombie, trying to push it away, but the increasingly powerful creature was slowly but steadily overpowering him.

I ran over to the man who'd just saved my life and my nerves moments before. He was currently pre-occupied at the moment while fighting hand-to-hand with a zombie with increasingly powerful grip. I pole-vaulted behind the creature, looped around his neck with my staff, and tugged hard towards my self, crushing the windpipe of the heavily-muscled zombie. It let out the rest of the air from its lungs and collapsed.

"I suppose that's their weekness, hm?" I jabbed my staff towards the fragile neck I had just crushed. A strange feeling went through my fingers. I wasn't a violent person... this was instinct. I was becoming like an animal... like one of them. I seemed to feel cold and clammy.

"No!" I said this aloud, though I had not meant to. I paused to take in some oxygen. My heart pounded furiously. The man I had just met seemed of Russian decent. He looked from thirteen to fifteen. I nodded, cleared my throat, and looked over at the fight that was ensuing several lengths away.

I sprinted over, staff spinning viciously in my hands.
I was becoming a bit of a natural.

Far from comforting me, it scared me. What if I was one of them? What would these people say. I gasped for air, and plunged into the thick of the fight.

Signing off,
3DBlenderRender

"Heh, well look at what we got here, a group of Survivors!" Says Aaron as he looked on from the windows of the house. He saw about 5 new arrivals, he knew that they would give him some comfort knowing he wasn't the only one living here. He jumped from the Window and saw a zombie limping towards him, Aaron took out his pistol and aimed for it's neck. Then, as if on cue of an ambush, a zombie jumped from the bushes and grabbed onto Aaron. "Gahhh! Get off of me you filthy creature!" Yelled Aaron as he struggled to get it off.

He knew if he stayed here longer, the more zombies will be surrounding him and he'd had to deal with a few more. He Yelled for help, but he knew everybody else was focused on their own status.

Nathan was on top of a house, he heared Aaron, seeing his peoblem he moved in to help, but he saw another issue, a Tank and Charger heading for the others, "I guess I can help them both out" he thought, taking his RPG off his back and shot a the Tank and Charger, He didn't pay attention to his "art", he went to help Aaron, his hands and forearms becomeing his Massive claws, he dropped down behind the Zombie and grabbed it by the torso, and flung it into a mailbox, "you okay?" his said returning his left arm to normal and offerd to help Aaron up

"Holy Crap! Not after seeing what happened with you're hand!!! What happened to you? Are you an infected?" Said Aaron as he crawled away from Nathan.

Nathan frowned 'no, I was born with the ablity to do that, although I didn't get it normally, I'll tell you about it later" he said, turning his other arm to normal, and he grabbed his Combat Shotgun, than he ran into the fight