MidoriPotente
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- Posted: Thu, 11 Sep 2014 00:42:32 +0000
I am in the middle of writing a choose your own adventure. It's zombie apacolypitc themed. If you're interested in taking a crack in it, feel free to post a response and we can continue from whatever choice you have left off.
This project is approximately 35% completed so if you get to a part that I haven't written yet responses may become delay.
This project is approximately 35% completed so if you get to a part that I haven't written yet responses may become delay.
The wind rushes past you. The rhythmic sounds of several hard thuds fill the otherwise silent air. To your left you see a piece of paper that got caught up in the wind. It blows by, nearly hitting you in the face. You only catch one word, “Dead.” You know exactly what it was. The largest print of newspapers this city had ever seen. “The Dead Walk.” The headline of the last paper the city was ever delivered to. This is the city of Witherwood and this is the one of the three quarantined cities were all of the deceased have returned as mindless cannibals, driven only to devour the flesh and brains of the scarce few who have managed to survive these terrifying two weeks.
Right before the adrenaline hit your blood stream your mind would always shoot back to the first day. You had never seen anything like it, something that was only possible in movies and novels. The events of the first week were so vivid in your mind and all the events that led up to this moment cracked into your mind all within the confines of a moment. Your best friend dying and reanimating right before your very eyes, another friend of yours had been quick to act though. He was able to put out your best friend before he was able to infect you. From that moment it was just survival though you didn’t seem to really comprehend.
All the shock set in and if it wasn’t for your friend taking hold of the situation you would probably be dead right now. As if he had read a survival guide for this kind of thing or maybe all those years of videogames had paid off. He single-handedly barricaded your home, turned off all the electricity, and started the sinks and tub for drinking water. You only remember falling asleep, but by the time you had woken up, your house was a fortress, with ready water, emergency candles, and all the food completely rationed to keep you and your friend safe until help arrived.
Your mind snapped back, your breath was hot in the already humid air and your mind needed you to focus on your breathing. The hard thuds had begun to grow stagnant in your ears; the footsteps of you and your co-survivors. You and a team of four were out on a mission to gather supplies from a nearby drug store when your team leader’s walkie-talkie crackled to life. Through the static you were only able to catch “breached”, but you; as well your team knew exactly what it had meant. Without hesitation your team leader ordered an immediate return to base and now you were only a block away from the barricaded high school where you had made your home just one week ago.
As you round the corner on Courtworth Ave. you can already see the school’s entryway; a large glass double door that serves as the school’s entrance is shattered in. The barricade that had been made inside was torn away and blood is splattered across the threshold. You and your team run up the lawn of the school and your heart begins to sink at the thought of everyone you left now being eaten or worse, trying to eat you. Your thoughts are cut off as someone from your group yells to stop. Without thinking your feet come to a quick halt. Your body desperately tries to catch all the breath you had lost running so fast. “Jimmy! Wait!” Someone calls. You looked up to see your team leader ignoring whoever said to stop and rushing straight for the door. His wife and two children were still in there, chances were they were gone, but Jimmy was the kind of guy who would rush into hell itself if it meant he could save what little he had left.
“We have to go help Jimmy.” One of your fellow survivors says. This is Samantha; she holds her 12-gauge shotgun close and waits for the appropriate response. You are about to open your mouth when you are cut off. “That’s suicide. If we go in there we’re all going to die. Jimmy won’t last long enough for us to get in there. We should just take what we have and find a new place to set up before night sets in.” The young man who protests is Marcus. He was never much for confrontation on account of he lost his mother and father who tried to fight off one of the first waves and were brutally murdered, at least that was what you had heard. The only other person who is standing with you doesn’t say anything. This is Scott; he merely shakes his head at Marcus and stands next to Samantha. Not that you could blame Marcus, he is definitely a ‘runner.’
‘Runners.’ The term used for people who were quick to get in, get supplies, and get out. Definitely not a ‘gunner.’ The term used for people who fought off hordes and maintained security.
In the grand scheme of things it is hard to say exactly where you fall in. You have both runner and gunner traits about you, but it’s tough to say which one wins over the other. That’s not to say being one defines your character. You have seen runners who ran into the fray to save a friend and you’ve heard of gunners who shot allies in the back to escape hordes. You hope that you never come across that kind of survivor.
Your mind snaps back to the task at hand. You make a quick spot of inventory in your mind. You have your 9mm Beretta; two clips in your pocket and a full chamber. A small Swiss army knife that had yet to see any action and a box of matches you thought would be useful so you pocketed them right before you left your house. Your mind races trying to remember what the team had taken with them. No shots had been fired so everyone was still at full ammo capacity. Samantha has her 12-gauge, fourteen slugs and a military issued knife. Scott has two pistols; full chambers and two clips each, he has also been given some flares in case the group had been separated. You scan Marcus. He is wearing his running suit and the backpack that has all of the supplies your team had so far gathered at the drug store. No weapons, save a knife but runners weren’t meant to kill they were meant to be defended.
All three look at you, there is a slight pause in the air, you can feel the shakes well up and you realize today is going to be a lot harder than you’d like for it to be.
Do you want to make a move with Samantha and Scott to try and save your current stronghold?
Do you want to leave your current location and find a new shelter with Marcus before the sun sets?
Do you wish to stand guard and wait to see if anyone returns from the battle inside the school?
