You'll see

Your mom will see, mate

Yours already has

We're goin' off topic, man

Caitlen Florance

Caitlen and Mr. Mason grabbed Ms. Florance by the shoulders and dragged her to the backseat of the car. They than both got in and drove for the Hospital.

"MR. MASON!!!!! YOUR DRIVING TOO FAST!!!!" Caitlen screamed.

"Don't worry... Mr. Mason replied. There's hardly anyone on the road."

Caitlen heard her mom moaning in the back.

"Don't worry Ms. Florance were almost the-"

Mr. Mason got cut off as Cait's mom bite into Mr. Mason's neck. He screamed as blood sprayed all over the roof of the car.

"MOM WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!??? Caitlen screamed. MR. MASON!!!!! SLOW DOWN!!!!"

Caitlen screamed as the car drove into an alleyway and hit a dumpster. Caitlen flew threw the windowshield and landed on a pile of garbage bags unconcious(is that how you spell it?).

Weapons - none
Items - none

Jeph Phillips

"Oh my God, what is going on?!" I said to myself frantically. I ran to one of the office buildings and ran right into the automatic sliding doors...whichc didn't seem to work. I fell flat on my ass, and felt a bit of blood dripping from my noise and knew that I must have messed up something. I quickly picked myself up and decided that home was a great place to stay.

I ran a good mile or so before coming to my house which I shared with another man who I got along with quite well, except his car was not in the driveway like usual. I didn't really care, as the missing roommate was not a priority as was me getting safely inside my house. I turned the knob on the door and flung the door open, making it bounce off the wall and almost hitting me in the face. I ran inside and right before I closed the door, I noticed a few more "drunks" making their way to my sancuary I called home.

Name: Tom Lincoln
Job: Boat Designer
Build: Medium muscle, not fat or skinny, glasses, clean shaven. Dark blue suit with bright blue shirt and black tie.
Mental: Arrogant, spoiled
Past: Rich parents
Weapon(s): Sig Sauer P232 Compact
Equipment: None
Bio: Very rich playboy who designs yachts for a living, lives in a highrise apartment and has a butler.

This post has been edited by Kitteh on July 31, 2005 07:50 am

Tom Lincoln

I awoke abruptly in my king-sized bed. The digital clock on the nightstand read 1:25 AM, illuminating my face as I leaned over to check it. Noticing my water glass was empty, I hopped out of bed, grabbed my glasses, and strolled over to the kitchen. But something out the 70th floor plate glass window caught my eye. I crept over and looked down. A lone man was walking aimlessly away from a smoldering gas truck, bits and pieces of humans lying all around the scene.
"MARTIN!!!" I yelled in a scared, hurried tone.
The butler leapt out of bed and put on his pleated trousers before running into the main room at full speed.
"What's the matter, sir?" he asked worriedly in an English accent.
"That's what's the matter!" I said, pointing to the flames below. "What the fuck is going on?!"
"Oh dear, we right better call 911, sir."
"Do it."
The butler rushed over to the phone, resting casually on the glass end table.
"And for god's sake, turn the damn lights on," I ordered, staring at the mess below. I watched tiny human figures slowly stumble across the road from high above.
"Phone's out, sir."
"Dammit. I need answers, what the fuck is going on?"
"I suppose we ought to go down there."
As the butler strolled towards the door, there was a frantic banging followed by a loud, shrill scream, then a deep thud. Soft moaning was heard from behind the door, and whatever was there kept banging into it.
"Get my gun!" I shouted.
"Yes, sir."
He rushed out of the room, rifled through some drawers, and ran back with a suitcase.
I cracked it open and pulled out my stainless pocket handgun, loading a clip into it and pressing down the slide release. The slide snapped forward with a satisfying clank. I took the other two clips and the box of bullets and put them in a small backpack laying on the kitchen counter. Slinging it over my back, I carefully walked towards the door, with my butler in front of me and my gun raised. I clicked the safety off as Martin gripped the doorknob, turning it. The moaning sound was louder and the door banging was getting harder and faster. He flicked the knob quickly, then jumped back. The loose door sprang open inwards, nearly hitting me. I aimed my gun at whatever it was stumbling towards me, closed my eyes, and pulled the trigger as many times as I could until it ran dry.

When I opened my eyes, there was a grey, blood drenched human on the floor. Behind the corpse was a dead young woman, a terrified expression on her face. Underneath her was a puddle of blood, slowly expanding. There were bitemarks all over her back and neck.

"What the hell is this thing?" I asked, paniced. "A fucking zombie?"
"I'd assume so, sir. I'll get my shotgun and we'll be on our way down, sir."
I closed the door and waited for him to grab his shotgun from his room. He came out with a grey Ruger over-under, loading two shells in as he rushed towards the door. He handed the box of shells to me and I put it in the black backpack. I pulled out another clip and slapped it into my P232.

The butler opened the door and looked down the hallway.
"No more of them, sir."

I followed him to the elevator and pressed the down button. The doors opened and I was relieved to find the elevator empty. We both ran in, pressed the G button, and the doors closed.

----------------
Weapons - Sig Sauer P232
Items - Backpack with two clips(one empty), box of bullets, and box of shotgun shells.

This post has been edited by Kitteh on July 31, 2005 09:32 am

Alex Keyes

I walked past abandoned vehicles, damaged buildings, dead people and roadblocks that had been deserted. I had gone through situations much more dangerous than this when I was with Special Forces, but this was far more gruesome. The smell of rotting flesh was still in the air, despite the scarf I used to cover my face.

A German Shepherd dog stood by a police car, the door hanging open. Inside was a pair of dead police officers. They didn't seem to be moving.

I knelt next to the dog, and scratched him behind the ears. "You're not about to go undead on me, right?" I said, checking its collar for a name.

The dog's response was to lick me up the side of the face.

"Eugh!" I said, wiping my face. "Jesus..." I looked at the name on the collar. "Rover, eh? Original name for a dog..."

Rover suddenly started barking at something behind me. I spun round, and fired a few shots at the dead man who had been creeping up on me. It dropped to the ground, its last moan a dying gurgle in its throat.

I turned to Rover. "You're kinda useful, aren't you?" I said, standing up. "Come on, pal. Let's go find some people."

The two of us set out for the police station. Finally - a survivor. The fact that the survivor was a dog meant nothing to me. The dog gave me reason to believe that there were more people alive in this town.

This post has been edited by Keyes on August 01, 2005 02:01 am

Tom Lincoln

The elevator stopped at the ground floor. The doors opened slowly, creaking ever so slightly. I raised my gun and Martin did the same, walking between the doors as they pressed against their pneumatic stops, a plush airy sound echoing through the dark lobby. The glass front double doors were less than 50 feet away. I glanced around, and the room, although dark, looked empty of anything living. I increased my pace to a jog and lowered my gun to my side. When we got to the door, we were greeted by a hideous smell and more of those zombie creatures wobbling around.

I pushed the glass door and walked through. The zombies turned our way and started lumbering towards us. Fear pulsed through my body.

I raised my gun and shot three times at the closest zombie's head, the recoil rippling through my arms. A mushroom cloud of dark blood exploded from a neck stump, bits of head and brain flying everywhere. The butler raised his shotgun and fired at the head of a zombie on his side, blasting it clean off. There were three more zombies clambering towards us. I stared at one right in his lifeless grey eye, before taking aim and blasting it in the neck twice. I could not feel fear anymore, for I'd die. Martin fired the second round from his shotgun into the other zombie's neck, causing it to vaporize into redness. The last zombie slowly outstretched his arms towards us, increasing his speed. I took aim and fired until my clip ran dry. His arm blew off and blood started pouring from his chest. But no headshot.

"SHIT! RUN BACK INSIDE!" I shouted, as the butler scrambled to reload. But it was too late, as the zombie reached over, grabbed his shoulder, and bit in. I quickly slapped another magazine into my gun and shot both of them, hitting the zombie five times and the butler four. I had to put him out of his misery.

I looked around the deserted, dark city, and a tear came to my eye.
"How can this be happening?"

I took my magazine out of my gun, and the other two, as well as the box of bullets. I then filled each one with nine bullets, putting two in my pocket and one in my gun.
After shoving the gun into my pocket, I started sprinting. There were no zombies in sight. I needed transportation. Maybe there are some survivors? I kept sprinting by vacant buildings and destroyed vehicles until I came to a mechanic's shop, a large grey building with four garage doors. I slowed down and took a few breaths before running in the open back door. Inside it was brightly lit, and there were guns strewn across a desk. On the floor lay a corpse with a bitemark and a hole in his neck, wearing a bulletproof vest and four holsters. Next to him was a dead zombie, split into two pieces by the man's Desert Eagle, now sitting in a pool of blood. My jaw dropped.
I walked over to the wooden desk and grabbed some sort of assault rifle, an M16 or M4 or something, as well as 5 extra clips, which I put into my backpack. I held the rifle up to my shoulder and thought to myself, "Not bad," then put it into the backpack, the front sticking out the top.

There was another door on the left, which was partially open. I ran over and pulled it, running into a large room with garage doors on the left and a few cars inside.
A Toyota with a missing fender and a spare tire.. No. A Dodge Neon with a crushed rear end.. No. A red 1970 Dodge Coronet Superbee.. Yes. I ran over to the car, grabbed the door and pulled. To my surprise, it opened, and as I sat down inside I saw the keys were already in the ignition. I turned the key and the V8 roared to life.

"Now how do I get this damn garage door open?" I looked around the cockpit, finding a little remote attached to the sunshade. "Aha!" I said to myself, pressing the button and watching the corrugated metal slide upwards.

I put the car in drive and slammed down on the gas, the back wheels instantly accellerating to 100 miles per hour while the rest of the car remained still, smoke pouring out the rear. The car slowly edged forwards until the back wheel stopped overspinning, and the car zoomed out of the garage and bounded down onto the road.
"Hell yeah!"

This post has been edited by Kitteh on July 31, 2005 01:01 pm

Name : John akan
Job : French Spec ops agent.
Build : White hair, Blue eyes.
Mental : Self-Confident, maybe too much.
Past : Military family. Entered the army at 18. Now 26.
Weapons : Akimbo Desert eagles.
Equipment : Some clips. Dual holsters.
Bio : John was sent by his superiors to Raccoon City because of the total black-out of the city which seemed strange...

This post has been edited by Mic2070 on August 01, 2005 02:00 am

I was half way to the hostpial and I was Passing my house, I realized that I would never see it again. 50 yards away from my house, I saw my Nieghbors Car crashed rightin an alley. The Window shield was broken, and i could see blood all over the back seat. I looked threw the window and in the back seat was Cait's Mom... zombifed. I saw Mr manson in the front His head was hit, and his neck was bitten, He started to move, But his seat belt was hlding his back. The Seat belt Snapped. He fell the ground and stood up and wadledd towards me, moaning. I reached down and got my knife. He stumbled forward and i stabbed him in the head. I pushed him down to the ground and wipped off my knife, onto his shirt. I Searched him for anything usefull and I found a gun, a revoler it was loaded with 6 shots and he had 20 loose rounds in his pockets. Mrs. Mansonwas in the back seat, and already chewed up.

I looked into the front seat and there was a settering whell lock, I tried to pop the trunk but it wouldnt work. I grabbed the lock and went around to the trunk and started bashing the lock. It finally opened and I looked inside... I heard some russling in the dumptser in front of the car...
--------------------------------------

John akan

I was riding my bike, when I saw the "Welcome to Raccoon city" sign.
The city was in flames, and no one was in the streets.
Roads were blocked, everywhere.
So I left my bike, and walked down the street. 5 minutes later, still nobody.
Until I heard something behind a car. "mmmmmm."
I Looked behind the car, and I said :
"Hey dude, What happened here ?" the only response I had came from a one-eyed fat guy with half of his skull missing. "Br-r-r-rrrai-i-iiinsssss..."

Then he leaped on me. I should say tried leaping on me.

I dodged the fat guy easily, and shot his head twice.
"Zombies hey ? Interesting."


Edit : "Jonh." Damn kbaryoed

This post has been edited by Mic2070 on August 01, 2005 02:01 am

John akan

"hmm. Where do I go now."
Then I saw a sign.
"Racoon police dept. ? I should go there."


On my way to the rpd, I saw a sports shop.
"hmmmm... I should get a backpack from here, it might be useful."
Fortunately, the shop was open.
After a bit of search, I found one of those backpacks with lots and lots of pockets and headed to exit when I saw someone sitting in a chair.
I came closer. It was a girl, apparently sleeping.

This post has been edited by Mic2070 on July 31, 2005 10:03 pm

Jeph Phillips

I bolted the the door with the lock and backed away slowly from the door. I turned the lamps on and took in the neat, tidey room. The TV was on, but all I got from it was static, like a bunch of black and white ants running across the screen of the television.

I walked towards my bedroom casually and picked up the phone. I dialed a couple of numbers and only got the annoying ladys voice: "Sorry, this phone service seems to be out of order. Please try again later."

"Damn it..." I muttered and put hte phone down lightly. A knock on my window echoed through the empty house, startling me and making me jump a little. I walked towards the noise which seemed to be comming from the other side of the house - the kitchen, possibly. I entered the room to be greeted by glass from the window shattering and spraying the shards across the room. I leapt back in fright and my back slammed hard against the wall.

"Holy shit!" I cried, as a fat, middle-aged man with his eye hanging out of its socket came crawling through the window. His hands slapping hard against the broken glass, making horrible noises of skin ripping over glass. I was completly speechless and was petrified. I ran to a cabinet and grabbed the biggest, sharpest kitchen knife I could find. "Get the fuck out of my house!"

The man didn't listen, or didn't want to listen and plopped to the kitchen floor and stayed there for a couple of seconds before slowly getting up.

"I am not afraid to use this, sir!" I yelled at him frantically. He pushed the chairs and table out of his way, making my breathing even harder. He was in arms length and I yelled as I slashed at the man's face, making a long gash from his forehead to his lower lip. I then drew back the knife and pushed with all my might to the man's forehead. The knife went deep into its head, making it stop in its track and it fell to the ground, bringing my knife down with it.

"I gotta get out of here," I whispered to myself, right before I went to the cabinet to get another knife, this one a little smaller but much sharper. I ran outside to be welcomed by more zombies in front of me, chasing a sceaming man down the street. I took this opportunity to run the opposite way the man was running - he seemed to have the zombie's attention - and made my way speedily on foot towards the Police Station that was at least three miles away.

John akan

I came closer to her. She awaken and faced me. Her face was full of blood.
"SHIT !" She leaped on me, pulling me down. I kicked her stomach, took my guns and aimed for the head. 4 bullets in the head. Brain all over the wall.

"Well now You're sleeping !"

As I get out from the shop, I saw a man running down the street, followed by a small pack of zombies.

"A survivor. Let's help him."