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> Yet Another Story With Forum Members!, Please read. -NOT DEAD YET!
Security Corporate
Posted: May 11, 2006 04:28 am
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Gore God of Massacre
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QUOTE (Elite viking @ May 10 2006, 12:13 PM)
It's final year at the school I'm currently on. There's high school after that, and university after that again etc etc.


Dude, how old are you?! blink.gif
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KrazyFoYou1243
Posted: May 11, 2006 05:09 am
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I'm guessing Senior.


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Mic2070
Posted: May 11, 2006 06:44 pm
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QUOTE (Elite viking @ May 10 2006, 12:13 PM)
It's final year at the school I'm currently on. There's high school after that, and university after that again etc etc.

Err... I don't know well the american school system, but I'm going to university next year tongue.gif


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Keyes
Posted: May 11, 2006 09:00 pm
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I was under the impression that Viking operated under the Norwegian school system, rather than the American one. Amirite?

This post has been edited by Keyes on May 11, 2006 09:00 pm


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Elite viking
Posted: May 11, 2006 10:03 pm
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Norwegian, yes!
It's a bit hard to "translate" school systems, but I'll try:

6-13 years: 1-7th grade of regular school, or youth school.
13-16: 8-10th grade, teen school.
16-19: Sort of a high school. Celebrated in the last year with drunkedness.
19+: University and other stuff.



If you expected a story bit, I'm sorry. In the weekend maybe, I'm going to a birthday party on friday so I'll be busy for a while.
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Security Corporate
Posted: May 12, 2006 12:07 am
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Oh, so you're 16?

This being your last year, and 16-19 being "sort of a high school", you should be 16. You said highschool then university so, yeah... I'm over analyzing things again.
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Nikku
Posted: May 12, 2006 01:35 am
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highschool, woooooooooooooooo, dont drop the soap. hahahhaha


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Elite viking
Posted: May 15, 2006 07:58 pm
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For a recap of what's going on, you can go back two or three pages.





New part



Computer says this is as central as it gets. You take left side, I take right, David yelled while reacquiring the targets. He couldnt see individual targets anymore. They were too clustered. He turned his back to Carl, and let the suit support itself against him.

Freight One, smoke deployed. Do you have a visual, over. Carl asked uneasy. He brought the rifle back up to his shoulder and squeezed off a round.

Negative. One of our choppers have had engine difficulties, theres a minor time delay. Whats going on down there, over.

Nine hundred and fifty-wait, Nine hundred and sixty hostiles! We need you here as soon as possible!

Roger, uploading arrival time to your screens. Over and out.

Green digits appeared on the bottom of Davids screen. 03:46 and counting. Would they last that long? He could worry about that later, now he had to survive. He cut down one of the few rogue zombies as it jumped from a rooftop. It twisted midair and made a sickening crush when it hit ground. The only reason he could hear it was the suit amplifier. His sights fell on a new target, some fat grandmother of sorts, still wearing the oven mittens and a crimson napkin she died in. A burst from the TARA violently snapped her neck. Though still alive she lost control of everything below her shoulders, and fell. Moments later she was crushed by dead and dying bodies.

3:11. Half a minute had passed, and the battle seemed lost already. All 360 degrees around them were contaminated. Both did sweeping moves with their rifles, trying to halt movement. It didnt really slow down the hordes when a zombie fell; it merely freed space for the one behind.

This is hopeless! Daivd said while finishing off a crawling zombie.

Maybe it isbut if Im going to die, so are these S.O.Bs. Frag out!

A grenade shell ejected with a bang from Carls Multi-launcher. It tore a heavily decayed zombie in two from the impact force alone. It got stuck in the ribcage of one of the rear ones.

No. Youre not defect, Carl whispered to himself. Come on. blow up, blow up, blo-

WADOOOoom. A shockwave rippled through the ranks of Vultures and sent flesh flying. Dark blood spray-painted the surrounding walls.

Great, you bought us half a second, David said calmly.

2:37. There were becoming less and less space between them and the Vultures.
Ammunition-count, David ordered. A computerized voice stated that it was approximately six hundred bullets left, plus the emergency backpack with a hundred more. Nowhere near enough.

They had focused on the frontal entrances, situated just ahead each of them. They could only manage to hold them as they were. In the meantime more and more had appeared from the side alleys. They moved slower than the others, grouping together in an impenetrable mass of corpses. Somehow their minds understood the art of cooperation

2:15. iTrakTrakTrakTrakTrakTrakTrak Both kept the triggers pulled back. Cold steel slammed through the skulls of both young and old. Suddenly a zombie stood out from the crowd. David thought he recognized him as someone he had gone to school with. The face was fixed in a grim smile, revealing rotten teeth. He fired a High Explosive shell that made the figure and those surrounding him catch fire. Another HE shell smashed the face to a pulp, and finally the figure went limp.

Shotgun-Reload. Immediately his left hand moved down to a pouch and found two more shells, and fed them into the tube. His right hand had no problems holding the rifle single-handed. Realizing this he pulled out the pistol he had packed earlier, and opened with that one as well.

You better double wield, or well never get out of this alive, David said to Carl.

Doing it already, was the short reply. Now that David listened closely, he could hear some kind of automatic pistol spilling brass on the pavement.

1:54. The side alleys were like a single life form, crawling towards its prey. It was only by chance David saw it, before it was too late. His pistol was empty, and he ejected the magazine. He could have let the computer reload for him, but something told him to do it himself. As he turned to find a new mag he saw it.

Oh my God. He tapped at Carls shoulder, and both turned instantly to one alley each. But two rifles and two pistols werent nearly enough. They began shooting again at the same time. Four flashes lit up the area, turning everything into a bizarre white.

Blow off some more grenades! David yelled as he shot someones jaw into pieces. The answer was three Fomphs in short succession, followed by three explosions melting together. He could hear the blood splatter on the ground.

BlamKlik. Second last magazine gone. David holstered the pistol and returned the left hand to the shotgun grip.

Carl, we have to do something else this isnt working!

What? Theres nothing else we can do!

Spin around while shooting, aim at their legs. NOW!

Both fell to their knees, and began spinning. It became a whirlwind of death, cutting the legs of the Vultures clean off. One after one they fell, forcing the masses behind them into a complete stop.

But thousands of virtually braindead humans wont just stop. They kept pushing at each other, and after a while the legless ones were being crushed by stumbling and tripping undead.


The cutting maneuver momentarily held them back, but once again they were in full pace. There were less than ten meters between them now. Get up! We cant let them catch us sitting! Carl said and yanked David upwards, before blasting out a policemans innards.

1:32. The zombies were clawing themselves nearer inch by inch. No matter how many bullets they poured out it wouldnt help. The barrels were getting a bright red glow, and bellowed smoke.

My rifle cant stand this much longer!

Neither can we. Keep fighting!

The TARA kept mowing down undead. Crimson blood erupted from countless necks missing a head. TrakTrakTrakTraBlam . For a second David just looked at his rifle. The barrel had melted into a useless heap of metal. Last effective resort against the Vultures was gone.

My rifles gone! he screamed desperately. As if they understood, the zombies picked up their pace, moving almost at jogging speed. Quickly he fastened his grip around the shotgun attachment, and sent one of the closest ones into oblivion.

They had been advancing fast enough as it were, now they were overrunning the LZ in a matter of seconds. In an act of desperation David grabbed his last shotgun shells and threw them at the zombies. Just before they bounced back he shot at them. The shells ignited, and sent dozens of lead pellets flying. One of them ricocheted off his plexiglass screen, leaving a tiny scratch. The maneuver took down almost ten zombies in a little less than two seconds.

David unloaded the final shell into the brain of a hungry skater, with a broken skateboard lodged into his gut. As he fell the skateboard splintered, and tore his gut apart, exposing the inner organs. He threw the now useless rifle as hard as he could into the crowds, smashing out some teeth but little more.

Suddenly he realized that Carls rifle had gone quiet. He whirled around, just in time to see a smoking rifle clatter to the ground.

Its time for the wrist blades to show what theyre made of, Carl said. Good luck. Its been an honor fighting with you. He made a salute before turning around to face the enemy.

Wrist blades, David thought. Immediately a pair of nine-inch titanium reinforced knives shot out from the suit. He cracked his finger joints, and balled them together into a fist. The counter read 1:03. .

1:02

1:01



This post has been edited by Elite viking on May 15, 2006 08:03 pm
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Nikku
Posted: May 15, 2006 08:11 pm
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sophmore means intellegent idoit


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Keyes
Posted: May 15, 2006 11:31 pm
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Awesome stuff, Viking biggrin.gif I'd kill for one of those things that David's in.

@ Nikku: ...what?


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Elite viking
Posted: May 15, 2006 11:50 pm
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Was about to ask the same thing, Keyes...
Thanks for reading by the way wink.gif

This post has been edited by Elite viking on May 15, 2006 11:50 pm
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Security Corporate
Posted: May 16, 2006 03:56 am
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Excellent work Viking. Although the suits are badass, they just seem too unrealistic for my tastes. I'm a stuck-up perfectionist like that.
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Nikku
Posted: May 16, 2006 03:26 pm
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awesome story man!

Softmore is a rank in high school, i belive its your secound year? The literal meating it "Intellegente-idoit" as in an oxy moron


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Security Corporate
Posted: May 16, 2006 10:12 pm
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Uh, no shit Nikku? I'm a freshman becoming a SOPHOmore next year.

Another thing, did the guns melt from overheating?
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Elite viking
Posted: May 17, 2006 07:24 pm
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Yes they did. Most guns won't handle firing 500 shots without a break huh.gif
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