Post by heatdeath on Apr 3, 2012 18:17:08 GMT
Holy wall of text batman! So I'm writing this story from the point of view as Matt, my character, and I write as I play. I'm trying to play it as if he woke up with a terrible hangover and has no idea what's going on. Which isn't easy. Cause I usually grab all the groceries and cans I can find and hole up somewhere, but that isn't exactly the first thing that occurs to Matt... If people enjoy the story and want to find out what happens to Matt, I can try to finish it sometime. 
Slowly, Matt's eyelids creaked open, bits of dried tears crackling as he forced his eyes wider. He waited for a moment as his vision swam into focus. Bench. Floor. Dark. Ok... I was drinking, that's right. The pungent odor of vomit invaded his nostrils, and he winced as he ever so carefully turned his head to peer at the multi-colored barf that coated the front of his shirt. His neck was killing him.
"I think I drank too much... ughh" he groaned as he pulled himself along the bench and tried to sit up. What time is it anyway? Suddenly he realized he had no idea where the hell he was. Wherever he was, the lights weren't working...
Then he heard a furious stomping coming from somewhere to his right. Footsteps. Someone was running, up stairs or something, and moving with some haste. Then he saw the light pierce through the darkness, the brilliant beam of light waving crazily across the bricked wall. Briefly he saw a large S as the beam swept over a section of wall. Ok, I'm in the subway station apparently. I just never made the train...
Whoever belonged to the flashlight reached the top of the stairs, and then stopped to sweep the light across the terminal. It flashed across Matt's face and he cried out as he was momentarily blinded. "Hey..!" He put his hands up across his face.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hey, you, what are you doing here?" A voice barked at him.
"Jesus man, could you keep it down? I've got a headache"
The beam lowered and he found himself staring at a nervous looking cop, clutching a shotgun and a mag light. The beam was illuminating his frightened face, which was mostly taken up by a huge pair of coke-bottle glasses. Matt stifled a giggle.
"There's been a power outage, you're going to need to evacuate the subway sir." The cop barked again, but his voice quavered, betraying his emotions.
"Evacu-... I can barely sit up, much less evacuate. No, it's ok, I'm not afraid of the dark. I think I'm just gonna stay on this bench" he managed to sit up in an attempt at nonchalance.
"Sir, I'm not going to ask you again, unless you want to leave in-" He was cut off by a rapid burst of gunfire, followed by a shrill scream. The cop's mouth was still open in mid-sentence as all the color drained from his face. The pop-pop-pop of small arms fire continued outside, varying in intensity.
"Officer, maybe you should go check that out?" Matt volunteered.
The cop swung around on him, pop-eyed. He seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded vigorously. "Right! Stay here, don't go near any windows! I'm going to go check it out.."
"I thought you said I had to evacuate" But Matt's words fell on deaf ears as the cop hurtled through the doors out into the night.
Matt stayed on the bench for a few minutes, listening. He hadn't heard it before, but the night air brought an orchestra of chaotic sounds. Car alarms blared and trilled. Gunshots and breaking glass punctuated with crashes and bangs. He heard a scream come howling through on a cool breeze, sending his hairs flying up on end, and then it faded out into sobbing, which was cut off by screeching tires and a catastrophic crashing.
"AAhhaaww, my damnn headdd" Matt groaned, clutching at his head. "I wish they would shut up!"
Suddenly he remembered. He still had two or three percocets from when he fractured his collar bone, just sitting there in his apartment. The pain almost seemed to subside on the spot as he thought about the sweet relief they would bring. Maybe a beer or two as well.
Suddenly rejuvenated, he got to his feet. There was a momentary thudding in his brain, like he had opened a valve and sent a cascade of blood thundering through his head, but then he was fine. Wobbling for a moment, he felt his way along the wall towards where the cop had gone, then within a few minutes came to the door to the outside.
He pushed it open and stepped out in the night. Immediately, he was pelted with ice cold water. "Oh come on!" He wailed. It was pouring out, the wind sending it in gusting sheets across his face and clothes. Within seconds, he was soaked. At least that takes care of the barf, he thought.
-----------------------------------------------------
Just a few feet away, he saw the twisted heap of a car, on fire. Despite the rain, the flames were blazing away furiously, billows of steam hissing from the fire. He staggered towards the car a bit. The heat issuing from it was intense. There couldn't possibly be anyone alive in there...
He looked up. Just 15 feet away, a man with most of the flesh flayed from his body stood in the road. His face was twisted in horror, and one arm was jutting out at an extraordinary angle.
"Hey! Hey, guy! Stay there, I'm going to get you help! There was a cop just here!"
When Matt spoke, the man immediately snapped to attention and started screaming in pain. Blood frothed from mouth, the flesh peeling back exposing the white bone of his skull. The man turned himself with some effort, and lurched towards Matt, a strangled growl emanating from his twisted throat. "No, don't move, you're really hurt. Just stay there, a paramedic will be here soon!"
-----------------------------------------------------
"Hey kid, get the hell away from that thing!"
Matt whipped his head around at the voice, and saw a cop running at him through the rain, waving a gun, his flashlight beam slashing through the torrents of rain.
"What? What the hell a-"
-----------------------------------------------------
Suddenly he felt a strong, clammy grip on the back of his shirt. He yelped in surprise as he was suddenly yanked backwards, being pulled towards the pavement. Frantic, he ripped himself away, and ran towards the cop.
"Get the hell out of here! Get to the Police Station or the Hospital, it's not safe on the streets!" The cop yelled at him. Then he focused his attention past Matt, and leveled his handgun. Matt looked past his shoulder at the target, and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw the crash victim stumbling towards him, a swath of his ripped shirt clutched in his ragged hands. His blood-crazed eyes stared straight into Matt's, a hideous snarl bisecting his mutilated face.
"Holy fucking SHIT!" A bolt when through him and his brain splashed into his stomach. A thousand volts of adrenaline surged through his system, and suddenly he was pounding the pavement and running headlong through the rain.
From behind him the pop-pop of the cop's gun came muffled through the rain. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. He ran.
-----------------------------------------
His heart thudded in his chest, in time with his pounding head. His feet were keeping tempo. He thundered down the flooded streets, passing empty cars. Most were wrecked, some were on fire, others were members of intricate pileups or smashed into the sides of buildings. Echos of gunfire and screams rebounded across the faces of the buildings he ran past, circling around him.
Behind him, but more faint now, he could still hear the cop shooting. He gradually slowed down until he came to a stop, and stood chest heaving against a chain link fence next to another burning wreck. He leaned over and sucked in air and rain, trying to regain his breath and senses. Maybe I shouldn't have ran from that cop, he thought. What am I doing, anyway? I need to think for a second.
----------------------------------------
The cop said to go to the Police Station, but that's three districts away, and I don't have a car... I still don't even know what's going on. Are people going crazy or..? Is it terrorists? I don't know. Maybe I should get home and try to see if the news says anything. Yeah that's it. I'm goin home.
He took off again, the rain slashing mercilessly against his face. All these damn wrecks, and not a soul! He cursed to himself as he ran. Where is everybody? What's going on? Then the brick figure of his apartment loomed into view, rising out of the darkness. As he bolted past a park, a heavy figure smashed into the chain link fence right next to him. He shouted in surprise recoiling away from the straining fence. The man was coated nearly head to toe in blood, great patches of skin hanging loosely from his naked body. Almost all the flesh was missing from his face. He howled and pounded against the fence, trying to rip through it and get to Matt. Frothy saliva and blood poured from his mouth as he shrieked and clawed at the fence.
----------------------------------------------
"Jesus fucking christ..." Matt stammered as he backed away from the fence. He was starting to feel numb from sensory overload. He was still vaguely aware of the figure in front of him, as if he were watching it happen in a movie instead. "Jesus christ". The man stared fixedly at him, bashing against the fence.
Home!
He shook himself and ran away from the fence towards his apartment, the sounds of the bloody man's desperate attempts the tear the fence down fading behind him. Breathless and soaked, he stopped at a window near the corner of the building. The front door was on the other side... quickly, he pressed the window up with his palms and slid it open, then clambered through. He fell into the other side landing on the wood floor with a wet slap. He was in his room. Well, it wasn't technically HIS room; he shared it with another guy, a CJ classmate of his. They had the smaller of the two rooms, the other being occupied by the landlord, who also happened to be a huge asshole.
The sight of a box of pistol rounds on his room mates desk grabbed his attention. Quickly, he moved over to the desk and picked them up. Then, opened the drawers and rifled through them hoping to find the weapon. He knew it wouldnt be there though, if his room mate wasn't... He pocketed the rounds, and moved towards his desk.
He got to his bureau and ripped the drawers open, looking for his pills. He was starting to feel a little sluggish now... his headache had almost entirely disappeared, but he was crashing after his adrenaline rush and his previous night's poor sleeping conditions were taking their toll. Tossing clothes aside, he swore to himself. "Bastard! They're gone!" Asshole must have taken them and cut and run. Probably took my cash too. He lifted a shoebox from the bottom of the bureau and checked it. Empty. Seething, he moved towards the door to his landlord's room, to see if he was home.
------------------------------------------------
The room was dark and quiet. As soon as he went in, he noticed the green glow of his neighbor's cell phone on a nearby table. Maybe he is home... "Clyde? You there?" He hissed into the darkness. No response. He moved his way around the room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the gloom. Both beds were empty. No one around. "Guess no one's home..."
"What now? I guess I didn't plan very far past coming home... Whatever is going on, it seems to be district wide, maybe city wide. Perhaps the Police Station is my best bet. Then again, there would be a lot of people there, things might get out of hand. Hmm... First things first, I need some rest."
-------------------------------------
The apartment seemed safe enough for now, and he would only sleep for a few hours. He needed the rest, especially if he was going to try to make it to the police station. Wearily, he made his way back towards his room. Shutting the door behind him, he moved to the window and slid it shut, then did the latch. It was only glass, but better closed than open, right? He plopped into bed with a sigh. He really was tired. Maybe his room mate would come back while he was sleeping... His eyes fluttered...
While he slept, he dreamed about running through the streets. There were cars everywhere, but no people. All over the ground were watches, and he kept grabbing handfuls of them and stuffing them into his pockets. No matter how many he stuffed in there, the bulge in his pockets never got any bigger.
--HAULER SKILL GAINED--
Groaning, he rolled over in bed, then slowly opened his eyes. Bright sunlight shone in through the window, lighting up the room. Across on the other side, the door was standing wide open, rain pelting in. A large pool had formed in front of the door and was trickling in little rivers through the room. "Why is that open... did I leave that open? Maybe I just didn't notice"
------------------------------------------
END OF PART ONE AKA GOT TIRED OF WRITING
lemme know what ya think maybe i write some mroe soon
Slowly, Matt's eyelids creaked open, bits of dried tears crackling as he forced his eyes wider. He waited for a moment as his vision swam into focus. Bench. Floor. Dark. Ok... I was drinking, that's right. The pungent odor of vomit invaded his nostrils, and he winced as he ever so carefully turned his head to peer at the multi-colored barf that coated the front of his shirt. His neck was killing him.
"I think I drank too much... ughh" he groaned as he pulled himself along the bench and tried to sit up. What time is it anyway? Suddenly he realized he had no idea where the hell he was. Wherever he was, the lights weren't working...
Then he heard a furious stomping coming from somewhere to his right. Footsteps. Someone was running, up stairs or something, and moving with some haste. Then he saw the light pierce through the darkness, the brilliant beam of light waving crazily across the bricked wall. Briefly he saw a large S as the beam swept over a section of wall. Ok, I'm in the subway station apparently. I just never made the train...
Whoever belonged to the flashlight reached the top of the stairs, and then stopped to sweep the light across the terminal. It flashed across Matt's face and he cried out as he was momentarily blinded. "Hey..!" He put his hands up across his face.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hey, you, what are you doing here?" A voice barked at him.
"Jesus man, could you keep it down? I've got a headache"
The beam lowered and he found himself staring at a nervous looking cop, clutching a shotgun and a mag light. The beam was illuminating his frightened face, which was mostly taken up by a huge pair of coke-bottle glasses. Matt stifled a giggle.
"There's been a power outage, you're going to need to evacuate the subway sir." The cop barked again, but his voice quavered, betraying his emotions.
"Evacu-... I can barely sit up, much less evacuate. No, it's ok, I'm not afraid of the dark. I think I'm just gonna stay on this bench" he managed to sit up in an attempt at nonchalance.
"Sir, I'm not going to ask you again, unless you want to leave in-" He was cut off by a rapid burst of gunfire, followed by a shrill scream. The cop's mouth was still open in mid-sentence as all the color drained from his face. The pop-pop-pop of small arms fire continued outside, varying in intensity.
"Officer, maybe you should go check that out?" Matt volunteered.
The cop swung around on him, pop-eyed. He seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded vigorously. "Right! Stay here, don't go near any windows! I'm going to go check it out.."
"I thought you said I had to evacuate" But Matt's words fell on deaf ears as the cop hurtled through the doors out into the night.
Matt stayed on the bench for a few minutes, listening. He hadn't heard it before, but the night air brought an orchestra of chaotic sounds. Car alarms blared and trilled. Gunshots and breaking glass punctuated with crashes and bangs. He heard a scream come howling through on a cool breeze, sending his hairs flying up on end, and then it faded out into sobbing, which was cut off by screeching tires and a catastrophic crashing.
"AAhhaaww, my damnn headdd" Matt groaned, clutching at his head. "I wish they would shut up!"
Suddenly he remembered. He still had two or three percocets from when he fractured his collar bone, just sitting there in his apartment. The pain almost seemed to subside on the spot as he thought about the sweet relief they would bring. Maybe a beer or two as well.
Suddenly rejuvenated, he got to his feet. There was a momentary thudding in his brain, like he had opened a valve and sent a cascade of blood thundering through his head, but then he was fine. Wobbling for a moment, he felt his way along the wall towards where the cop had gone, then within a few minutes came to the door to the outside.
He pushed it open and stepped out in the night. Immediately, he was pelted with ice cold water. "Oh come on!" He wailed. It was pouring out, the wind sending it in gusting sheets across his face and clothes. Within seconds, he was soaked. At least that takes care of the barf, he thought.
-----------------------------------------------------
Just a few feet away, he saw the twisted heap of a car, on fire. Despite the rain, the flames were blazing away furiously, billows of steam hissing from the fire. He staggered towards the car a bit. The heat issuing from it was intense. There couldn't possibly be anyone alive in there...
He looked up. Just 15 feet away, a man with most of the flesh flayed from his body stood in the road. His face was twisted in horror, and one arm was jutting out at an extraordinary angle.
"Hey! Hey, guy! Stay there, I'm going to get you help! There was a cop just here!"
When Matt spoke, the man immediately snapped to attention and started screaming in pain. Blood frothed from mouth, the flesh peeling back exposing the white bone of his skull. The man turned himself with some effort, and lurched towards Matt, a strangled growl emanating from his twisted throat. "No, don't move, you're really hurt. Just stay there, a paramedic will be here soon!"
-----------------------------------------------------
"Hey kid, get the hell away from that thing!"
Matt whipped his head around at the voice, and saw a cop running at him through the rain, waving a gun, his flashlight beam slashing through the torrents of rain.
"What? What the hell a-"
-----------------------------------------------------
Suddenly he felt a strong, clammy grip on the back of his shirt. He yelped in surprise as he was suddenly yanked backwards, being pulled towards the pavement. Frantic, he ripped himself away, and ran towards the cop.
"Get the hell out of here! Get to the Police Station or the Hospital, it's not safe on the streets!" The cop yelled at him. Then he focused his attention past Matt, and leveled his handgun. Matt looked past his shoulder at the target, and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw the crash victim stumbling towards him, a swath of his ripped shirt clutched in his ragged hands. His blood-crazed eyes stared straight into Matt's, a hideous snarl bisecting his mutilated face.
"Holy fucking SHIT!" A bolt when through him and his brain splashed into his stomach. A thousand volts of adrenaline surged through his system, and suddenly he was pounding the pavement and running headlong through the rain.
From behind him the pop-pop of the cop's gun came muffled through the rain. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. He ran.
-----------------------------------------
His heart thudded in his chest, in time with his pounding head. His feet were keeping tempo. He thundered down the flooded streets, passing empty cars. Most were wrecked, some were on fire, others were members of intricate pileups or smashed into the sides of buildings. Echos of gunfire and screams rebounded across the faces of the buildings he ran past, circling around him.
Behind him, but more faint now, he could still hear the cop shooting. He gradually slowed down until he came to a stop, and stood chest heaving against a chain link fence next to another burning wreck. He leaned over and sucked in air and rain, trying to regain his breath and senses. Maybe I shouldn't have ran from that cop, he thought. What am I doing, anyway? I need to think for a second.
----------------------------------------
The cop said to go to the Police Station, but that's three districts away, and I don't have a car... I still don't even know what's going on. Are people going crazy or..? Is it terrorists? I don't know. Maybe I should get home and try to see if the news says anything. Yeah that's it. I'm goin home.
He took off again, the rain slashing mercilessly against his face. All these damn wrecks, and not a soul! He cursed to himself as he ran. Where is everybody? What's going on? Then the brick figure of his apartment loomed into view, rising out of the darkness. As he bolted past a park, a heavy figure smashed into the chain link fence right next to him. He shouted in surprise recoiling away from the straining fence. The man was coated nearly head to toe in blood, great patches of skin hanging loosely from his naked body. Almost all the flesh was missing from his face. He howled and pounded against the fence, trying to rip through it and get to Matt. Frothy saliva and blood poured from his mouth as he shrieked and clawed at the fence.
----------------------------------------------
"Jesus fucking christ..." Matt stammered as he backed away from the fence. He was starting to feel numb from sensory overload. He was still vaguely aware of the figure in front of him, as if he were watching it happen in a movie instead. "Jesus christ". The man stared fixedly at him, bashing against the fence.
Home!
He shook himself and ran away from the fence towards his apartment, the sounds of the bloody man's desperate attempts the tear the fence down fading behind him. Breathless and soaked, he stopped at a window near the corner of the building. The front door was on the other side... quickly, he pressed the window up with his palms and slid it open, then clambered through. He fell into the other side landing on the wood floor with a wet slap. He was in his room. Well, it wasn't technically HIS room; he shared it with another guy, a CJ classmate of his. They had the smaller of the two rooms, the other being occupied by the landlord, who also happened to be a huge asshole.
The sight of a box of pistol rounds on his room mates desk grabbed his attention. Quickly, he moved over to the desk and picked them up. Then, opened the drawers and rifled through them hoping to find the weapon. He knew it wouldnt be there though, if his room mate wasn't... He pocketed the rounds, and moved towards his desk.
He got to his bureau and ripped the drawers open, looking for his pills. He was starting to feel a little sluggish now... his headache had almost entirely disappeared, but he was crashing after his adrenaline rush and his previous night's poor sleeping conditions were taking their toll. Tossing clothes aside, he swore to himself. "Bastard! They're gone!" Asshole must have taken them and cut and run. Probably took my cash too. He lifted a shoebox from the bottom of the bureau and checked it. Empty. Seething, he moved towards the door to his landlord's room, to see if he was home.
------------------------------------------------
The room was dark and quiet. As soon as he went in, he noticed the green glow of his neighbor's cell phone on a nearby table. Maybe he is home... "Clyde? You there?" He hissed into the darkness. No response. He moved his way around the room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the gloom. Both beds were empty. No one around. "Guess no one's home..."
"What now? I guess I didn't plan very far past coming home... Whatever is going on, it seems to be district wide, maybe city wide. Perhaps the Police Station is my best bet. Then again, there would be a lot of people there, things might get out of hand. Hmm... First things first, I need some rest."
-------------------------------------
The apartment seemed safe enough for now, and he would only sleep for a few hours. He needed the rest, especially if he was going to try to make it to the police station. Wearily, he made his way back towards his room. Shutting the door behind him, he moved to the window and slid it shut, then did the latch. It was only glass, but better closed than open, right? He plopped into bed with a sigh. He really was tired. Maybe his room mate would come back while he was sleeping... His eyes fluttered...
While he slept, he dreamed about running through the streets. There were cars everywhere, but no people. All over the ground were watches, and he kept grabbing handfuls of them and stuffing them into his pockets. No matter how many he stuffed in there, the bulge in his pockets never got any bigger.
--HAULER SKILL GAINED--
Groaning, he rolled over in bed, then slowly opened his eyes. Bright sunlight shone in through the window, lighting up the room. Across on the other side, the door was standing wide open, rain pelting in. A large pool had formed in front of the door and was trickling in little rivers through the room. "Why is that open... did I leave that open? Maybe I just didn't notice"
------------------------------------------
END OF PART ONE AKA GOT TIRED OF WRITING
lemme know what ya think
maybe i write some mroe soon