| Welcome to Wcrp. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Dead Men Walking | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (71,035 Views) | |
| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 21 2015, 01:39 PM Post #616 |
|
Is that so?
|
"You're right." Glenda smiled ruefully. "I didn't. I suppose baseless optimism doesn't come as easily to me." |
![]() |
|
| DoctorYerishi | Mar 21 2015, 02:59 PM Post #617 |
|
Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
|
Eli continued to fight like a demon, holding nothing back. His limbs were a flurry of movement – of slashes, kicks, and thrusts. He stayed close to Brandon, letting none of the rotters get between them. When a new rotter appeared from the darkness, he struck as fast as he could. Fighting in the dark was harrowing. It made the battle seem like it would be endless. It gave them no idea how many rotters there were or where they were coming from. They just appeared in front of Eli and Brandon as if emerging from an unending void. Eli kicked a thinner one back so he could deal with a heavier one, stabbing it quickly in the side of the head, then gritting his teeth and grunting as he pulled the knife out and stabbed it again, since his first cut was too low. The effort made his muscles ache. A sudden and unexpected moan came from the darkness to his left. He spun on his injured heel, just as a pair of arms reached into the light. He ignored the pain, and struck the back of the rotter’s head with the handle of his ka-bar as it lunged for him. The rotter fell forward onto its face. Another rotter got too close from the front. Its snarling teeth and yellowed eyes came into Eli’s view, and he only had enough time to pivot again, slamming his elbow into the rotters temple with mighty force. The impact sent it sprawling into a different rotter that was coming for Brandon, and they both fell down in a tangle of limbs. Eli pivoted again and got low, letting himself be guided by pure instinct, allowing no doubt or hesitation to cloud his actions. He brought his baton down on the back of the neck of the rotter he had downed on his left. He kept it pinned there long enough to bring his knife-hand down, stabbing it ruthlessly through the skull and ending its resistance. From that crouched position, he noted another rotter’s legs in the light, shuffling in his direction from the front. He struck out with one of his own legs, powerfully kicking the rotter in the shin. He heard the bone crack and the rotter fell forward, just as Eli dislodged his knife from his last kill and raised it in front of him. The rotter fell right on it, the blade slipping into its neck to meet it. Eli wasn’t really ready to take the weight. He lost his footing and fell on his ass, but tensed his knife-arm, which held the rotter up by its neck. His arm shook from the effort and Eli could feel sweat rolling down his own neck and armpits, but he was able to hold the impaled rotter’s face far enough away from his own so that its gnashing teeth claimed nothing but air. Eli held the creature steady there, only inches from his own face. A glob of black mucus dribbled onto his shirt. Then Eli struck out with his left hand, smashing the rotter’s skull with the baton – once, twice, three times. He made a visible dent in the side of the rotter’s head and it became dead weight. Finally, Eli could relax his arm, letting the now harmless rotter fall onto his chest. His body cried out for rest, but he had to ignore its pleas. He rolled the rotter off of him, letting it slide into another dead body to his left. He rose as fast as he could, pushing forward both balled up hands forward as he did, shoving the chest of an incoming rotter. Unsteadily, he was able to find his stance again, and kept swinging. He realized then that the intensity of the moans had lessened. They were almost on the other side of this. He could feel it. His arms threatened to give out as he stabbed another rotter, then beat it with the baton to make it fall off his knife. He was breathing heavy and his body was drenched. He looked up anyway, ready to take on another – but no more emerged from the darkness. He waited for a moment, not exiting his battle stance. He heard a moan in the distance, but nothing jumped out at them, and the light revealed no shambling legs. Shaking, he hesitantly holstered his knife. He knelt over and grabbed the AR15 in one hand, cradling it under his armpit and swinging it in an arc around the expansive warehouse. He quickly found what he was looking for. Between two of the aisles, a rotter limped towards them slowly. One of his feet had been badly bent somehow, perhaps before it turned, and it dragged behind him. Eli made another sweep with the light before fixing it on the limping rotter – the last one in the warehouse. * * * Jeff didn’t return Glenda’s smile, not even with a bitter one of his own. It wasn’t what he was hoping to hear. Through the crack at the bottom of the blinds, he could tell the sun was going down. And even through the closed windows and doors, he could faintly hear the collective moaning of the horde as it got close. “They’re here,” he whispered, finally breaking his gaze from Randall in favor of the ground. |
![]() |
|
| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 21 2015, 03:38 PM Post #618 |
|
Is that so?
|
"I'll go tell Willow and Maxwell then. Could you keep an eye on him for a minute?" Glenda asked Jeff as she got to her feet and went for the stairs. ********** "I can't believe one of your requests was to have sex one last time." Randall teased ruefully. Elaine tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, okay." Randall conceded. "I can believe it. That is definitely something you would request." Now that they were both disrobed, Randall could see clearly just how pale she had become. The healthy hue her skin used to have had been replaced by one that seemed more in character for something from a hospital ward. Even after sex, there almost no flush to her skin. She looked so pallid. To see his wife like this, it tore at him deeply. So many people had died tonight. Colin, Aaron, Roland, Tu, they were all gone. But all he could think about was his wife, dying in front of him. His tears had all dried up by this point, but he could still feel the wound in his heart from it. He was just trying his hardest not to show it to her and he was trying his hardest to be strong, even as he felt his heart being ripped apart. "You know all the diseases on my side of the family." Elaine mused. "Cancer, diabetes, Alzheimer's... I wasn't expecting to live much longer anyway. Maybe it's for the best it happened this way. I get to pass away in the arms of the best man I ever met after knowing I protected my daughter. There are worse ways to go, and I've seen most of them." "Elaine..." "You gave me a good life, Randy. Don't go on living in regret because of this; I would do it all over again if I had the choice. I have no regrets, so neither should you." Elaine kissed him weakly on the cheek. "But if I see Kelsey on the other side before you, I'm kicking your sexy ass, do you understand?" Randall couldn't say anything. But the moisture on his cheeks confirmed that he still had tears left to spare. "Kelsey...?" Randall groaned weakly. "I need..." His eyes fluttered open; he didn't look great, but he was conscious. "Jeff? What... happened?" |
![]() |
|
| DoctorYerishi | Mar 21 2015, 03:47 PM Post #619 |
|
Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
|
When Jeff heard Randall stir to life, he immediately jumped up from his seat. One hand fell to his waist, where his knife was holstered. At least some part unconscious part of him was clearly ready to do what had to be done, if Randall wasn’t okay. But he was! Jeff’s eyes lit up and his hands relaxed. He darted over to a side table where they had stashed one of the water bottles. He brought it to Randall’s side, and leaned over him. He put a finger to his lips for emphasis. “Shh, shh, shh,” he said, as gentle as he could, though that wasn’t his strong suit. “Horde outside.” He held out the water bottle for Randall to take. Even if he wasn’t thirsty, the scratchiness of his voice suggested he needed it. He took a deep breath, meanwhile. He really didn’t want to be the one that delivered this news, but at least Randall was alive to hear it. That was the most important thing. That made it okay. “You got bit,” he whispered. “We had to try and… cut the infection off.” |
![]() |
|
| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 21 2015, 03:51 PM Post #620 |
|
Is that so?
|
It wasn't a strong motion, but Randall reached his hand out to take the bottle. "Bit? Where did I get...?" Randall grabbed the bottle. But... he couldn't feel it? No, he didn't have it? He looked at his hand. There was no hand. In fact, his hand hurt like all unholy hell despite the fact it was clearly not there. If he had any energy, he would probably react more, but he was too tired to even be in pain. "Oh..." He finally said. "I remember now." He sluggishly grabbed the water bottle with his left hand instead. |
![]() |
|
| DoctorYerishi | Mar 21 2015, 04:00 PM Post #621 |
|
Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
|
Jeff frowned deeply when Randall reached for the bottle with the wrong hand. He probably should have just handed it to him. He didn’t need such an immediate and painful reminder, and neither did Jeff. It really put a damper on his relief. “You’re… you’re gonna be okay,” Jeff said hesitantly. He wasn’t sure about that, but the fact that Randall had woken up and was cognizant was nothing if not a good sign. “I’ll get Glenda,” he added, then glanced at the blinds. “Remember – shhhh.” With that, Jeff headed out the room, and walked as light footed as he could down the stairs. In his head, excitement that Randall was alive immediately started battling the sadness he felt at his condition, and the sadness he would feel when Randall learned that Kelsey wasn’t around. At the bottom of the stairs, he poked his head out, revealing himself to Glenda, Willow and Maxwell. He waved an arm to get their attention. “He’s awake,” he whispered. |
![]() |
|
| Strompy | Mar 21 2015, 08:01 PM Post #622 |
|
More posts, more Busey.
|
Brandon had tried pacing himself, but the rotters came too fast. He took a more aggressive approach as they began to close in knifing anything he dropped rather than simply keeping them out of the fight. It had helped, by knocking them back or knocking them down he only had to content with one threat at a time for a little while. They soon began bunching up however. After Eli knocked a rotter into another that was coming at him Brandon immediately fell on them, driving his knife into their heads with both hands right down to the hilt. The fight kept going in a flurry of furious motion. Brandon used his own arm as a shield from a rotter's bite, it bit down hard like a rabid dog and the pain was immediate. His father's jacket was tough enough to withstand it though, but the pressure of the bite would still mean a nasty bruise. More than that however, his abdomen roared with pain. As he barreled into another rotter, sending it toppling over some boxes a fresh jolt of pain told him he'd overdone it. He didn't have to time to check but he could simply tell he'd popped a stitch. As Eli fought on like a furious demon, Brandon fought with the desperation of a wounded and cornered animal. Finally, one left. Brandon strode over inflamed by fear and rage, and knocked it to the ground. He dropped his knife and grabbed the rotter by the shoulders, lifting it's head and and bringing it back down down violently. It gave an odd little noise as it's head struck the concrete, and Brandon raised it back up and slammed it back down again. And again, and again, and again. As its skulls split and sprayed the floor in chunks of clotted blood and oozing plasma Brandon stopped the assault. Brandon let out of a growl and shuddered with the energy that still ran through him before exhaustion set in. |
![]() |
|
| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 21 2015, 09:11 PM Post #623 |
|
Is that so?
|
Glenda and Willow's eyes both went wide at the news of Randall being awake. Glenda had not expected him to wake up that quickly. Which was tentatively great news and bad news at the same time and for one reason. "Wait." Willow whispered so the horde wouldn't hear. "What are we going to do about the whole Kelsey thing!?" |
![]() |
|
| DoctorYerishi | Mar 22 2015, 02:25 AM Post #624 |
|
Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
|
Once Brandon brutally put the final rotter down, Eli dropped the rifle, allowed himself to stumble away from the carnage. When he was an acceptable distance away from the closest dead rotter, he fell to one knee, then purposely collapse backwards. He stared at the dark warehouse ceiling as he recovered his breath. He enjoyed the silence. He remembered doing the same thing after the big showdown at the country club. His survival seemed unlikely then, but even more unlikely now. Back then there was at least a small group by his side, and that group had taken losses. This time it was him and one other guy, and they both made it through – even if by the skin of their teeth. “Hey Brandon,” he said after an extended silence. “I think we did it.” * * * Jeff waved his hand abruptly and adopted a slightly panicked expression. He was trying to indicate for Willow to be quieter. She was whispering, sure, but a little too excitedly for his liking. All it would take was one rotter to hear them. If it started banging on their door in response, the rest of the rotters might follow suit. Jeff stalked closer to them. “Hey, be careful,” he said, exceptionally quietly, glancing meaningfully towards a window. “And don’t look at me. But he’s gonna ask first thing, so we gotta figure something out. Glenda?” Jeff turned to her, arching an eyebrow. She definitely knew Randall the best out of the four of them, and was their de facto leader in his absence. If someone was going to come up with an answer to this problem, it was her. |
![]() |
|
| Strompy | Mar 22 2015, 02:42 AM Post #625 |
|
More posts, more Busey.
|
"Yeah." Brandon chuckled softly. A let out a groan he got to his feet and lifted his shirt up. A brand new spot of red marred his white bandages, a small bleed but it meant an increased chance of infection. He decided he wasn't going to go out like that though, so he chose to put that possible outcome out of his mind. He couldn't see anything, that was a problem he could address so he set about doing so. He rummaged through the pockets of the rotters scattered all around, giving them a could tap with his boots to make sure they were really no threat anymore. He thanked god for smokers and he found a lighter on the larger fellow he took out, and also pilfered his little tin of cigarillos with a pleased smile. Another had a little key-chain light which did little to illuminate anything outside a couple feet away. "Since we're stuck in here for a little while let's have a look around." he suggested offering Eli a hand. |
![]() |
|
| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 22 2015, 02:51 AM Post #626 |
|
Is that so?
|
Glenda glanced over to Maxwell, who sat in the corner still, but had his own eyes fixated on the doors and windows. She didn't really want his input anyway; it was best if he didn't talk right now. She turned her attention back to the huddle up they had going. "I'll go upstairs and keep him quiet." Glenda kept her voice as quiet as possible. "As long as the horde is here, we can keep him from asking too much. Just give me some time alone with him; I'll see what I can do." |
![]() |
|
| DoctorYerishi | Mar 22 2015, 03:22 AM Post #627 |
|
Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
|
Eli let out a drawn out sigh as he accepted the hand and got back on his feet. He looked Brandon over, noticing a dampness in his shirt where his bullet wound was. His stitches had ripped. Of course they had. After the frantic fighting they had just done, what other outcome could be expected? “Sure,” Eli said, sounding far from excited about it. Really, he just wanted to keep laying down. “But I don’t think we’re gonna find anything ‘sides trailer parts.” He sighed again and listened for outdoor noises, but to no avail. Rotters may have still been milling about the exterior of the warehouse, he couldn’t hear them. He retrieved his AR15 from the ground again, and waved the light around some more. When it passed the immense pile of rotter bodies he and Brandon had just created, he paused. He shook his head then craned his neck to look at his partner. “We shouldn't have come here," he said. "We fucked up." * * * Jeff nodded back silently, keeping his mouth closed. Outside, he could see the silhouette of a rotter as it stumbled by outside a window. When it was gone, another silhouette replaced it. The horde was here, well and well truly now. The proximity unnerved him desperately. |
![]() |
|
| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 22 2015, 04:00 AM Post #628 |
|
Is that so?
|
In the time Jeff was gone, Randall decided he didn't want to lay down. Through some effort, he managed to push himself into a sitting position. No sooner had he gotten upright than did his vision begin to spin and get clouded. His head felt heavy and before he even know it, Randall was laying back down on the bed. Shit... I really did it now, didn't I? Randall contemplated as he stared at the ceiling and got his breath back. I wonder... am I turning? Or just suffering blood loss? He held his right arm out in front of him again. Halfway down the right forearm. That was where they amputated. His feelings were difficult to describe. He was happy to be alive more than anything. He felt like he should feel worse because of the loss of his hand, but maybe... well, maybe it just hadn't hit him yet. "Hey, Randall." Glenda whispered into his ear as she leaned down beside the bed, gently placing a hand on his chest. "How are you feeling?" Randall hadn't even heard her enter. He opened his mouth to respond, but she quickly rose a finger to her lips. "They're outside." She whispered. "Quietly." "Like shit." He groaned quietly as per her instructions. "I want to cry in pain, but my body is just... too tired. I want to see Kelsey." "You're okay now. We don't want to move everyone around while the horde is here. I'll stay here with you and we can talk more when they are gone. But I'm glad you're alive." |
![]() |
|
| Strompy | Mar 22 2015, 06:45 AM Post #629 |
|
More posts, more Busey.
|
"We didn't have much choice. I don't like it but it was this or be caught outside." Brandon confessed, fishing out the cigarillos. "Whoever has the girls is might be doing the same thing as us, waiting for the storm to pass rather than trying to keep ahead of it. If they lucked out and found the girls in the middle of nowhere than they don't have much chance of avoiding us when we're actively looking for them. When we get out, they're dead." he continued taking a cigarillo. He was about to enjoy it while they waited when a thought struck him that he hadn't considered before. Maybe they didn't luck out. Maybe they were looking for them. Actively looking for trouble was insane though, why would they do that? Unless they had some quarrel with them, and the only people he could think of that would were the border bandits. Somehow that possibility was even worse. A stranger might not care about the girls and do what they felt like, but if they had a vendetta... Then why did they just take off without leaving a message for them? What was the point of taking their people if they didn't tell them why it was happening? Nothing about the situation made any sense to him. "Do you think... do think this may be them." he asked, putting the cigarillo away again, suddenly no longer in the mood for it. |
![]() |
|
| DoctorYerishi | Mar 22 2015, 12:23 PM Post #630 |
|
Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
|
“I think it’s one person, maybe two,” Eli said. “I think whoever it is, they’ve been following us. I think they found us, then ended up getting a bigger vehicle from around here before making their move.” It was conjecture, but he had at least some evidence – as well as a strong gut feeling – to back it up. “Maybe it’s someone from the border, maybe it’s some random psychotic asshole that just caught our scent,” he continued. “If it’s the border, could be they’re not done with us. Two kidnapped girls doesn’t seem like an even score to me. And if it’s a psycho…” He trailed off. That was a dark and unpleasant line of thinking, and he’d rather not fear for the worse until he had to. “Well, let’s just hope it’s the border. Crazy as that seems.” He exhaled audibly, then looked Brandon up and down, moving on. "You sure you're okay?" he asked. Brandon never actually said he was okay, granted, but he was acting like he was. "'Cause you don't look okay." * * * A minute after Glenda disappeared up the stairs, Jeff mustered the nerve to walk behind the bar. His eyes scanned the wide selection of drinks, and the idea of dulling his anxiety right now proved too tempting to resist. He found a glass and placed it delicately on the bar. From the shelf, he picked a whiskey bottle – ‘Canadian Club Classic.’ It seemed fitting, given their location. He wasn’t much of a whiskey drinker in his day-to-day, but right now he was looking more for medicine than taste. He unscrewed the cap and poured himself two-thirds of a glass. He breathed in, and immediately took a shot. He cringed and bared his teeth as it burned down his throat, then he breathed out. Silhouettes kept trudging by the closed windows outside. Jeff didn’t dare say another word out loud. He did look to Maxwell and Willow, though, and found another glass behind the bar. He held it up with his left hand and cocked his head. His expression was a question mark. |
![]() |
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Roleplaying · Next Topic » |







7:30 PM Jul 10