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Vinny

The Living Dead

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"Holy---!!!" Dave exclaims as he jumps back a couple of steps. Jesus! I don't know what in the wide, wide, world of sports those punks did to him, but it looks--unnatural! He takes another look at his boss' skin and eyes and thinks Maybe it's not such a good idea to move him...or touch him.

 

"Hang in there, sir, I'll get help!" he says, and bolts out the door toward the phone that hangs in the short hallway that connects the front offices to the back storage room. Hopefully, 911 is still working, he thinks as he leans his bushaxe against the wall and picks up the phone.

 

 

You hear crashing behind you. As you turn to look you see your boss on his feet, lurching toward you with outstretched arms, mouth open.

 

 

There came a high-pitch screech from the postman, like one one might hear from a playground schoolgirl after discovering a bee had landed on her arm.

 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME! GET OFF MEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!" he wailed at the top of his lungs.

 

Vincent kicks and claws at the two zombies with any skills he ever had in dirty fighting, elbowing, kneeing, and kicking for the groin. He didn't really care, at this moment, wheter or not the zombies would be hurt by those blows if they landed. He will fight in the hope of standing up and breaking away from the two monsters to give himself some distance, either to run or to fight back.

 

They don't seem to be strong, just tenacious as they crawl over you. You manage to squirm away but just as you stand fingers wrap around your ankle folowed by a sharp pain in your calf. Looking down you see one of these "people" with it's teeth sunk deep into your leg.

 

 

Something in the guards eyes spurs Zach into action. A switch in his brain flips telling him that this is a very real threat. Hesitating no longer he jabs at the guard with the decorative spear point of the flag, aiming as much for his center torso as possible.

 

As you poke harder against the guards chest he is pushed back but reacts only with a hellish, gurgly sound and comes toward you, his face contorted horribly by a snarl and eyes that burn with ..hatred?...hunger?

 

 

Trevor feels the pulse of the anti-locks as he slams his foot into the breaks. Putting the Landrover in reverse He backs up to see if a body is actually there, glancing up to see if there is any activity from the police.

There goes my insurance, hope I didn't damage this thing too bad I rather like the Rover. He thinks.

 

 

Sure enough, there's a body on the road in front of your Rover. No policeman are visible and there doesn't seem to be any activity at the roadblocks besides the flashing of the lights on top of the cars.

 

Shaun gags and swallows the gorge rising in his throat.

"Oh s#!t," he thought, "this can't be good."

 

"PAUL!" Shaun hollered, "YOU THERE BUD?!?"

 

Shaun scanned around the counter area from the open doorway, looking to see if there are any signs of a robbery, and just praying he doesn't stumble across his friend's body, offed by some crazy junkie needing some quick cash for a fix. The register looked undisturbed, and there didn't seem to be any signs of a struggle.

 

"PAUL!"

 

Not hearing any response, Shaun took a deep breath of fresh air and walked quickly into the station, a million bad thoughts racing through his head, fearing the worse.

 

 

The stench of decay is horrific. Your eyes almost instantly begin to water as you explore in the gloom of the station. As you step through the doorway to the back of the station a heavy weight broadsides you followed almost instantly by an even more nauseating stench and a wet growling sound.

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Sure enough, there's a body on the road in front of your Rover. No policeman are visible and there doesn't seem to be any activity at the roadblocks besides the flashing of the lights on top of the cars.

 

Crap, now what? Trevor thinks. Seeing no cops headed his way, Trevor eases the Rover back. He looks to the side streets to see which one looks to be his best option to get out of there.

Probably should go find my lawyer now.

Trevor starts off in the direction of his lawyers office.

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The stench of decay is horrific. Your eyes almost instantly begin to water as you explore in the gloom of the station. As you step through the doorway to the back of the station a heavy weight broadsides you followed almost instantly by an even more nauseating stench and a wet growling sound.

 

Shaun staggers with the blow as he tries to roll with it. Pinwheeling from the force of the impact, he crashes into a desk, and gasps in pain as his kidneys and short ribs absorb the collision. Shaking his head to clear the red haze forming on his periphery, Shaun turns to face his attacker while fighting the gorge rising in his throat. With teeth clenched and his temper flaring through the pain Shaun mutters, "You mother f*****, I'm going to..."

 

The words die on his lips as he realizes for the first time who his attacker is. Paul. Or more specifically, something that once was Paul, but is now a rotting piece of putrid flesh.

 

This is not happening. This is not happening. This is like some f****** bad horror movie races through Shaun's head. In a span of what seems like hours, but in reality, is less than seconds, his stomach starts to convulse, his eyes begin to water, and Shaun begins to gag as an involuntary reflex to vomit begins. Madly, Shaun tries to fight the urge to vomit, knowing if he does, he is incapacitated, and dead. A jittery calmness seems to settle into Shaun as the adrenalin and endorphins begin to pour into his system. And instincts start to take over. Eyes dart about the back room looking for a weapon, anything solid and long enough to keep that thing at bay, or down it long enough for him to get by.

 

Then despair settled in. Paul attacked him from behind as he entered the back room, and is now between him and the exit. The way into the garage bay was to his right. There would definitely be weapons in there, something to fight with, and more space, but the door was shut, and the slide bolt was thrown. Shaun didn't think he could get to the door and open it before that thing pounced on him again. Especially since that door was less than three feet from it.

 

Frantically, Shaun realized he'd have to let the thing charge him, or advance further into the room and hope that his reflexes and agility could get him past it to the exit. Right now, that was his only option. There was the small, private bathroom in the back of the room, but that would just leave him cornered and he didn't think that thing would forget about him and leave.

 

Shaun backed a little deeper into the room, giving himself more space to maneuver and to let Paul build up enough speed that he'd not be able to change directions easily when Shaun moved. As his hands passed across the desk they gripped the tape dispenser. It wasn't much, but it could add weight to his blow if it came to it, and he could throw it with enough force to hurt. It wasn't much better than a hefty rock, but right now, he didn't have too many other options.

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"Holy---!!!" Dave exclaims as he jumps back a couple of steps. Jesus! I don't know what in the wide, wide, world of sports those punks did to him, but it looks--unnatural! He takes another look at his boss' skin and eyes and thinks Maybe it's not such a good idea to move him...or touch him.

 

"Hang in there, sir, I'll get help!" he says, and bolts out the door toward the phone that hangs in the short hallway that connects the front offices to the back storage room. Hopefully, 911 is still working, he thinks as he leans his bushaxe against the wall and picks up the phone.

 

 

You hear crashing behind you. As you turn to look you see your boss on his feet, lurching toward you with outstretched arms, mouth open.

 

 

Dave's eyes almost pop out of his head at the sight of this...thing lurching toward him. He drops the phone, letting it dangle on its cord and pendulum back and forth, bumping the wall, as he instinctively grabs for the blade. The three and a half foot hickory handle calms him somewhat, its solidity giving him a little strength. Holding it in front of him, he says in the strongest voice he can muster, "Mr. Hollis, you stay back. I don't know what's wrong with you, but I don't want to catch it, so you just stay where you are!"

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Pushing all hesitation aside, Zach plants his feet as solidly as possible and lunges at the horror in front of him. He aims the tip of the lance-like flagpole directly at the center of the creature's chest and throws as much weight and force into the blow as he can without toppling himself over as well.

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"Ghh.... ghhhh.... GET THE **** OFF ME, YOU PIECE OF SH-..." Vincent wailed ecstatically, kicking furiously at the creature's head with his free foot.

 

He looks around while doing so to see any kind of heavy blunt or sharp objects that could be used as a weapon, such as a broken bottle or a metal pipe he could whack them with. If he finds one, he would not spare any time in using it to save himself.

 

He will continue to do so, while still keeping himself from being grabbed by the other one. If the guy lets go, he will run (or limp) to a safe distance.

 

All the while, he screams loudly to try to get any sane person's attention for help. There was no worry or even thought about the zombie bite's infection on his mind. At least, not at the moment...

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Crap, now what? Trevor thinks. Seeing no cops headed his way, Trevor eases the Rover back. He looks to the side streets to see which one looks to be his best option to get out of there.

Probably should go find my lawyer now.

Trevor starts off in the direction of his lawyers office.

 

You drive a couple blocks and as you turn the corner the street is blocked with a crowd of..people?.. Seemingly trying to batter their way into a Schlotzky's Deli with their bare hands. As you roll to a stop not too near them they are ignoring you as they flail at the door and windows with their hands and fists. All of them seem to have the same hoolow-eyed, vacant look at those you saw earlier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shaun backed a little deeper into the room, giving himself more space to maneuver and to let Paul build up enough speed that he'd not be able to change directions easily when Shaun moved. As his hands passed across the desk they gripped the tape dispenser. It wasn't much, but it could add weight to his blow if it came to it, and he could throw it with enough force to hurt. It wasn't much better than a hefty rock, but right now, he didn't have too many other options.

 

What was once your friend Paul lunges across the desk with teeth bared and fingers clawing at your face..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dave's eyes almost pop out of his head at the sight of this...thing lurching toward him. He drops the phone, letting it dangle on its cord and pendulum back and forth, bumping the wall, as he instinctively grabs for the blade. The three and a half foot hickory handle calms him somewhat, its solidity giving him a little strength. Holding it in front of him, he says in the strongest voice he can muster, "Mr. Hollis, you stay back. I don't know what's wrong with you, but I don't want to catch it, so you just stay where you are!"

 

What was once Mr. Hollis but is now a grotesquely skewed version of him with sunken, hollow eyes and saliva flowing freely from his mouth lunges at you with clawing, flexing fingers...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pushing all hesitation aside, Zach plants his feet as solidly as possible and lunges at the horror in front of him. He aims the tip of the lance-like flagpole directly at the center of the creature's chest and throws as much weight and force into the blow as he can without toppling himself over as well.

 

It doesn't scream or grasp at the flag staff jutting from it's chest it simply lurches back from the force of the blow toppling, arms outstretched, back down the stairs. The sound of it's skull cracking over and over as it impacts each marble step echoes through the large, quiet foyer of the Capital. It lays there at the foot of the stairs, fluids pooling under it's head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Ghh.... ghhhh.... GET THE **** OFF ME, YOU PIECE OF SH-..." Vincent wailed ecstatically, kicking furiously at the creature's head with his free foot.

 

You manage to dislodge the things teeth from your leg with the kicking and stumble away, the burn from the bite spreading up your leg.

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Standing silent in stunned shock from the encounter, Zach suddenly remembers the other guard who was bitten by the thing that just attacked him. He hurries around the desk to see if the man is ok.

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Somethings wrong, bad wrong. I wonder if I'm the only one who doesn't look like they're hype up on morphine or some thing. Trevor eases the Lan Rover forward, creeping down the street peering about looking for anyone who looks cognizant.

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What was once your friend Paul lunges across the desk with teeth bared and fingers clawing at your face..

 

As the thing lunged forward, Shaun slammed the tape dispenser into the side of the creature's head with as much force as he could muster, knocking it off balance. The stench from it's skin parting was like a punch in the face. Not even waiting to see if the creature crumpled and stopped moving, or was just knocked to the floor, Shaun wheeled around the desk and sprinted for the open doorway before the thing could regain it's feet and charge him yet again. Grabbing for the handle, Shaun wrenched the front door of the gas station open and went straight for the truck.

 

[OOC] And probably right into a massive hoarde of zombies that have gathered outside waiting for him, because that's just the way my role playing luck is :lol: [/OOC]

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Dave's eyes almost pop out of his head at the sight of this...thing lurching toward him. He drops the phone, letting it dangle on its cord and pendulum back and forth, bumping the wall, as he instinctively grabs for the blade. The three and a half foot hickory handle calms him somewhat, its solidity giving him a little strength. Holding it in front of him, he says in the strongest voice he can muster, "Mr. Hollis, you stay back. I don't know what's wrong with you, but I don't want to catch it, so you just stay where you are!"

 

What was once Mr. Hollis but is now a grotesquely skewed version of him with sunken, hollow eyes and saliva flowing freely from his mouth lunges at you with clawing, flexing fingers...

 

 

Dave darts to the side, reflexively swinging the bushaxe down with all his might, trying to ward off the attack.

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"HAH! In your face! IN YOUR F***IN' FACE!" Vincent screamed.

 

He got to his feet and limped away, his face contorted with pain, yet bearing a huge grin of psychosis. His eyes were glazed over, streaked with bloodshots. Looking over his shoulders occasionally to see if they were following him, he kept his eyes open for any safe place or normal humans.

 

As the burn spread up his legs, he quickly undid his belt and wrapped the thing tightly around his thighs to cut off the circulation. Whatever that feeling was, it didn't seem normal to him. He looked around the street and gutters to try to find a bottle or some other kind of improvised weaponry.

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