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YOU ARE DEAD spits out a death solo nbd

His brain was a collection of gears and circuits and wires that were constantly sparking in and out of life. It was a bundle of nerves and axons that bounced from one thought to the next to the next to the next and back to the first thought with actions interspersed throughout everything.

A long time ago, when the world first began to unravel to reveal death and fear and sickness and fog, a switch inside his mind flickered off. An innocuous thing at first, but truthfully a part of Cory Gimenez had died that night, disappeared into the abyss where all souls and bits and bodies eventually gathered; the afterlife.

Where was Mama? Papa? What was the meaning of living if all he did was eat and fight and scavenge and pray he would live to see tomorrow? They were nothing more than creatures screaming for the chance to live, to survive cruel reality and Cory Gimenez decided that humans were not meant to be reduced to such beings.

The gears stopped clicking together.

What was the point of living?

Monica shoves something into his hands. Her voice is far away, but he can still hear her mention something about food and staying alive. His hands move to bring it to his mouth, but all of his willpower drains into the abyss as the dusty glimmer and shine of the casino pulls him in.

His energy falls.

It falls.

(It falls.)

(It falls deep into the darkness.)

He is walking. Where is he walking? (To search for food.) Why is he looking? (Because Monica told him to.) Why does it hurt? (It hurts. It hurts so much to move.)

Shoes drag across the concrete and bony arms grip his stomach, but he feels no hunger. There is no thirst, no desire to consume. Only a desire to shout with pain (Why?) (Why does everything burn?)

Only an aching pain running deep in his bones as he melts to the ground and he closes his eyes. Let the pain melt away, and away, and away.

Until he is just bones and ash.

YOU ARE DEAD Kiana is dumb v.v;

Noah couldn't remember being this hungry or thirsty in her whole life. He lips were chapped beyond repair, her tongue like sandpaper and a small amount of blood was collected on her lips. Her mind was muddled and there were moments where she imagined she was still sitting at that table in the Casino. Noah shivered as she stumbled forward. Where were they going? Noah had been mostly sticking with the Prison group but she couldn't see them anywhere in front of her. In fact, she could barely see anything because her vision began to get fuzzy. Noah stopped and rubbed at her eyes for a moment. Upon opening her eyes, Noah saw herself sitting by the man who didn't speak or make a sound as he was cut into. No tears trickled down her cheeks but her hands went into her hand and lightly gripped thick clumps as she made a groan and near silent scream. Her voice broke and eventually there was no sound at all.

Noah fell onto her knees and then onto her side, curling up into herself and holding her head. Why had she thought the restaurant was a good idea? She should have just stopped when they brought out the menu. Noah imagined the man again and she cried without tears. This time he was accusing her though, hadn't he been too drugged to talk? I'm sorry was mouthed repeatedly as she began to rock slightly. Her hands gripped tighter at her head and there were likely a few tiny chunks of hair that would be missing from her head later, she didn't care though. Noah couldn't stop her thoughts and the nightmare of the casino. She was entirely to blame. Why couldn't she wait to eat? Or to realize what was happening? Why couldn't she stop them. That last question plagued her the most. She had frozen, staring at the 'chef' in horror. That poor man. Noah's eyes scrunched together hard and she rocked a little faster, trying to keep herself from dry heaving. There was nothing in her. Her stomach ached, her head was spinning, her mouth was beyond dry and cracked and like the man in the wheelchair, she had no voice to call for anyone.

Her body slowly began to feel very drained and within a couple hours Noah was laying on her back, staring up at a dark sky. Her mouth felt drier then ever and Noah couldn't help but wonder if this was her punishment for entering that restaurant. She didn't care, she deserved it. Noah closed her eyes. I'm sorry. . . So sorry. She thought before she drifted off into the darkness.

YOU ARE DEAD

((THE DEPARTURE:Tucked between two cars his attempt to climb over failed, he lay twisted like a marionette half lifted from the ground proped by the cars wreck fast asleep.

Death was not as violent as Jacob thought, well there was one small outburst before it ended. You see he remembered a few things just before it happened. His body was already weak from a lack of food, hunger was sinking in, he knew medically you could survive longer on just water, but food was almost just as important, and when time seemed to twist and turn in this place hunger lead to starvation and starvation lead to a gnawing pain that had never left his stomach.

Even as they stumbled away from the Hospital Jacob was very aware his life was coming to an end. He didn't say it though, saying it would admit defeat and doing that would be the last thing he would do. Ever. He'd fight till the end.

At least he thought he would till he passed out on the side of the road another survivor knocked out from causes unknown, but more so as his body gave out.

For a while he dreamed. It was a strange dream, he was in the Hospital, looking down at himself laying on a bed shrunken and weak, broken ribs, a few deep cuts from monsters he could barely describe. His body looked far from peaceful as he watched it. Nurses moved around him checking lines for an IV, another was cleaning the cuts slowly stitching them closed yet nothing they did could solve that sunken look. Still, the heart rate was beeping along, his chart work looked solid, they where getting liquid food in, he could turn around. It brought a smile to his face, a testament to the powers of medical science to bring him back from the brink.

He turned to walk away just as the heart rate dropped. The world slammed sideways. Nurses rushed to his side, pulse was erratic, his breathing was labored. A crash cart came rushing by slamming into Jacob throwing him aside as he watched the nurses coming to his aid.

In reality a teenage ghoul was smashing through traffic. His body crashing around the back of a jeep as true hell chased them down the highway...

He staggered to his feet, his body was fading fast, a nurse pulled a needle. "Wait no, don't do that he can't handle a shot of adrenaline you'll kill him!"

He awoke with a start, bouncing in the car, at first he thought a girl was driving, that was till he saw the arm, twisting bone of black, eyes glowing purple instead of green. He didn't think, he reacted a surge of life bursting through him as he grabbed at her throat squeezing,screaming for answers before that dark bone and the smell of decay slammed into his face sending him back.

The Hospital was dark, the nurses where gone, his body lay not in the bed but tossed aside like a discarded toy, ruin and chaos. That was what he had seen. A hospital turned into a hellscape. A casino twisted from leisure and fun into a game of life and death where death meant being the dinner.

There was no happy ending, no white light to embrace him, in the moment he awoke a sense of reality had crept into his dying thoughts. He had fought, yes, he had struggled, yes, had he been good? Maybe. He wasn't so sure. He stared at his body, decay and rot taking over, wondering was this where he died? Was it all real?

He stared down again at the figure one more time, his own reality peeling away, the dark ruined walls peeling back into blackness slowly shaving away like wood to a knife coils and curls of "reality" falling down around his crippled body as the Undying infection took over, they where all infected right? He might die, he might live a half life, maybe he would be one of them or nothing. He couldn't say. All that was left was his body floating in the abyss and slowly even that faded to black and finally Jacob had nothing to think about, nothing to reflect on.

Finally. Jacob died.

YOU ARE DEAD

Maybe it had been the blow to the head and the probable concussion that had made Cerise dream up a talking, driving horse, or maybe the lack of food and water she had had since leaving the safety of the university was making her delirious. She didn't feel hungry or thirsty, but maybe the desire for food and water had been squelched somewhere between gambling for her life and running through the fog and had just never made themselves known again. The realization that she had nearly become a meal for cannibals had made her lose her appetite, certainly; she just thought she would find it again somewhere along the way.

She had been so busy running for her life that she hadn't realized it was quietly slipping away from her anyways.

She had always been bad at taking care of herself. She liked food, but it had never seemed as important as working or reading or hanging out with friends. Her body often had to make its demands known with a loudly, angrily grumbling stomach or a headache caused by dehydration before she would pay attention to it.

If she paid attention to it. She had lived through one finals week as an undergraduate on nothing but coffee and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. There had been a banana in there somewhere, she thought, but only the one. She hadn't had the time or the desire for anything else, but after finals were over she had slept for 13 hours straight and then eaten about half her weight in pancakes and hash browns at a local 24 hour diner.

She was not laying in bed after a long sleep, but on the hard ground. Those fluffy shapes in the sky above her weren't marshmallows, but clouds. Now that she had stopped--now that she had been forced to stop, she could feel the abuse she had put her body through the past few days. Her nerves were shot; her head was aching; and the growling of her stomach was loud enough to drown out the talking horse looming over her, but it was nothing compared to the thirst. She didn't have enough spit in her mouth to tell the horse to shut up and go away. Her lips were chapped and her tongue felt heavy and useless.

Well, she thought to herself, if she had to go--absolutely had to, and an early death was something she had resigned herself to the night she had first encountered the monsters--at least it was relatively peaceful. At least she wasn't infected. That was something, at least. That was comforting.

YOU ARE DEAD

((THE DEPARTURE:

He'd been wandering for...he couldn't remember how long, by now. Bundled up to the t with all his articles of clothing, enduring the harshness of the chill, surrounded with that unsightly fog that teased and taunted so mercilessly. His eyelids say so heavily, feet dragging as he forced forward. Breath was far more labored now, overactive mind whirring madly, sounding like buzzing bees or white noise of a chattering crowd. He could hardly feel his legs anymore, parched mouth agape as he struggled for breath.

How had it gotten to this point? He'd tried so hard to survive, done everything he could to, but it hadn't been enough. Never would he have calculated this happening. His heart was losing its strength, pulse dim, vision blackening around the edges. How could he have been such a fool.... But really was it all his fault entirely? This was a crude, cruel world he lived in, now. Supplies, rations, and all necessities for living were severely lacking. He'd failed to find and gather food or water the majority of the time, or was kept from the territories he cold not explore due to lacking attire. Truly this was a foul end to come to.

His stomach clenched, whining, and tightening from the lack of food it'd suffered from. It was that which made his legs give out, his body falling limply to the ground. The ground.... how soft, and welcoming it did feel. Glasses clattering along the marred earth, hair strewn about messily, Gillian lay. No longer could he try to frantically come up with some sort of plan or idea to get through this. Just as he had been in his life before this hell that engulfed his world, he was alone. There was no one there, not a single person to pick him up off the ground to safety. No one to nurse him to health. No one cared.

It'd always been this way. Why would it have changed? Bitterly he recalled those in his apocalyptic clan who'd made their little speeches and snippets of 'looking out for everyone' and 'wanting everyone to live to the next day.' What a load of bull. But he couldn't be too disgusted in them. Everyone had some means of coping, to make their sanity remain in tact. And for those people, that'd been something that kept them feeling good, and righteous in a chaotic, anarchy riddled world.

And so he laid there in silence, brilliant mind running through all its data like a books pages being flipped at its edges, letting himself succumb to the 'sleep' that coaxed so enticingly.

OOC

CHAR ACCOUNT: 98
CHAR NAME: Gillian Silverstein