Well, I origionally wrote this half assed story for a friend. She just wanted me to write something zombie related, so I made something that would be more origional than a toxic spill, genetics testing, and that sort of thing. Noone seemed to like it, so I want to see what you people thought. If you like it, I'll write more. Please, be brutally honest. It's long, by the way.

Warning: If there was an official rating for this, it would be for Mature audiences only. This story that noone seemed to like, has swears, although it's not absurdly filled with them.

*Note*
Mods, if you think the swearing is bad, I will personally go through and remove/replace the words. If you think the thread should be removed all together, I will delete the stories.





The Manual

Chapter one

His hand was full of pain. The nuckles of the 17 year old man cracked as he typed away at his keyboard, bored and lonely, as he always has been. He thought differently than most of the world, analyzed every possibility of anything that could ever possibly occur. Yet he sat at his computer, talking to his friends online as if he was just another 17 year old boy. However, there was a difference between him and everyone he knew, at least a difference he thought that existed. This was his ideals of sefless service and sacrifice, that he one day intended to fight and die for the ideals of love and innocence, his fellow man and their sons. The boy typed away to his friends, talking about whatever they pleased, talking to whomever wanted to talk to him. As he typed, his mind wandered with his ideals; his mind thick with thought of the military. He had changed his entire mind set, his moral concept, to suit the principal of the military service. He was better capable of a military career than anyone he had ever known. This man, would indeed become a soldier, and was well aware.



The date marked January 7th, 2006. The man suddenly woke, and his mind full of thought as usual. He read the clock, fully awake after only seconds, and knew his thoughts had woken him so early. He remember that only less than a year prior, Rumsfeld had closed down all the AirForce bases in New England, where he had lived. The belief that a country could perform an effective blitzkrieg in the U.S. was theoretical in his mind, and always potent. When senses came through, and his mind wandered, he heard all too familair noises in the distance. Thumps, loud cracks, jet engines; sounds of war. Young as he was, he was content in doing something about the given situation. However, he was not sure as to what was happening, and began thinking of his options. Was he to get into his military gear, purchased to be used during paintball, or would he simply go as is and check out what was happening? He left the room, and entered the kitchen as he only paid attention to what was happening outside. He saw men, armed men, running in what seemed to be squads. He noted that a squad of six passed in front of him, while another squad of three breached his house to the left. He turned to find more soldiers at his door, two men in green camo. He knew these men were American, and this became increasingly evident as they shouted at him. He ran to the door and opened it, as he could not understand what the two men were saying. The second the door opened, the men ran inside and told him to shut and lock the door. They immediately took chairs and similar objects to board the door up, and then they paused. Kyle noticed that one of the soldiers was wounded. A chunk of his left calf was missing. He read the name tag, Colonel O'neille. The other soldier was unarmed, and turned to Kyle.

Sgt. Harris: "Hey kid, what's your name?"

Madigan: "Kyle Madigan. Your's?"

Sgt. Harris: "My name is Seargent Harris, this here is Colonel O'neill. Kyle, you have any family around here?"

Madigan: "Yes, a brother and a sister live in some rooms down the corridor to my right, your left. My parents live in a room to my left, and they are all probably asleep."

Sgt. Harris: "First off, we need to put the Colonel in a bed. Check for any medical supplies, anything you can find."

Madigan: "Sir, I saw three non American soldiers break into my house down the corridor to my right. As for medical supplies, I have guase and morphene in my room, we can take him there."

Sgt. Harris: "Russian Spetnaz soldiers. Probably seeking cover in the house, they'll need it."

The two men got up and dragged the Colonel into Kyle's personal room. To the colonel's amazement, Kyle applied a tourniquet to the soldier and properly maintained him untill there was nothing left to do. Three Russian soldiers entered the room and started speaking in German to the Sgt., who spoke back to them. Kyle had no idea what they were saying, but he immediately assumed that Russia was not invading. As they talked, he put on his military gear, and gaised out the window. He noticed that, there wasn't a single true bomber, only a few A-10s and an occasional F-16. He turned to the soldiers, and left the room. He went for his parents bedroom, but heard a few odd sounds coming from an entrance into the house, and a few more in his parents room. He walked back, slowly, and passed his room. The Russian soldiers noted him and laughed, especially at his outfit, however the Sgt. stopped them. He continued into his garage, and proceeded to a large, steel gun case which had "Zombie killing aresenal" written on it, as a joke by his friend Sam. He used the combination locked, and opened the massive safe. The first thing he did, was strap the shotgun holster to his left thy. Then, strapped the handgun holster to his left. He took out a M1911A1 out of the safe, and put it in the respected holster. As he paused, he heard more of the odd sounds coming from the garage door, and then decided to take out his treasured, shortened Mausburg 500. It was only about two feet in length, maybe even less than that. The pump handle had a verticle grip. He loaded it, first round was a buckshot. Then put in three slugs. He put that in his remaining holster, and filled up its side pocket with 12 guage buckshot. Searching the vault, he removed his highly appraised M92FS Baretta, his favorite 9MM. He loaded that, as the thought of why he only kept his 1911 loaded, filled his mind. He put the 9MM into a pocket on his vest. His green camo, army issue BDU was accustomed to his vietnam issued "M16 tactical vest". In respect to the vest, he removed the M4A1 carbine out of the vault and loaded it. It had a 2x miniscope mounted on top of the iron sight. He slung that on him and then slung it behind him, keeping it out of his way. He put mags for all of his guns in the pockets to the vest, and then pulled out his brother's Stoger. A semi automatic shotgun, which was very accurate with slugs. He loaded 4 slugs into it, and one in the chamber. Again, the odd sounds filled the air. Sounds of roughling, moans.. footsteps. He didn't bother to observe, he felt that his duty was to obey the Sgt. As he came back to the soldeirs, they all turned and look at him, and turned right back. They seemed far more content in their conversation than before. He went back to the Colonel, and made sure he was alright. Then, the Sgt. sat on the couch accross from him.

Sgt. Harris: "You check on your family?"

Madigan: "I'll let my brother and sister sleep. Sounded like there were people all over outside, by my parents room. Maybe even inside it, but I don't know how they could have gotten in without my noticing of it."

Sgt. Harris: "Damn. The spetnaz are leaving, going to clear the area. I'm going to stay here, if you don't mind, and accompany the Colonel untill we get word from the cavelry. Shit might get bad if we stick around, so don't lose your cool, kid. Keep your eyes and ears open, and if you see or hear any shit, lemme know."

Madigan: "I'll check on my parents, and check on the noises I've been noticing around the house."

Sgt. Harris: "Don't. If you are certain you heard those noises in your parents room, you are under no cercumstance to go in there. Can I trust you with your weaponry? I don't want all that firepower going to waste if you're just going to get torn to pieces the first time you see action."

Madigan: "You can trust me, sir. I heard similar noises in the house, were my sister is sleeping. My brother is in the room accross from me."



Madigan decided to block out the hallway. If Harris was right, then his sister wouldn't need any resque. Moments later, work out benches, vaccume cleaners and small couches filled the corridor. There was no way anyone could get to them, without their knowledge of it. Now, Madigan had two problems. Blocking off the left pathway into his room, while not keeping them blocked into the room itself, and he had to deal with his brother. First things first, he woke his brother. The 15 year old woke up, cranky, swearing at his older brother.

Madigan: "Get up. Now."

Carl: "You're fucking crazy. Get the fuck out of my room or I'll tell dad."

Madigan: "There's a Sgt. in my room with a soldier missing part of his leg. Hear all that shit going on outside? That's artillery and tanks. Get the fuck up or say hello to the butt of your own shotgun.



Carl got up, and went to Kyle's room. He sat on the couch as Kyle told him what had most likely happened to his parents and their sister, as the soldier sat silent. The two then decided to board up the windows, and set the couch up against the opening of the doorway, and put it on its side. Neither of them knew what they were up against, but they knew that they were going to die without trying to survive. All the Sgt. said, was something on the lines of "Aim for the head kid", as he murmured to himself. By the look on Carl's face, Kyle knew that the kid thought the Sgt. was crazy.



Carl: "This is rediculous. I'm going to get mom and dad, and they are going to have a talk with you guys."

Sgt. Harris: "You want to die kid? If that's really what you want, just lemme know, and I'll put a bullet in your head. Trust me, it's far less painfull than what you'll get by going out there. They will just wind up coming in here anyways, so why not live for a few more minutes? APCs might get here by now."



Carl ran. Kyle made note, and decided to see his sister. He exited the house, by one of the many doors in his kitchen, and ran into the doorway of where the Russians came in. The door was knocked down, and there was almost no sound in the room. He cautiously walked through the room, making it to his sisters bedroom, as his mind filled with thoughts of what could possibly be going on. Approaching the door to the room, he noticed blood on the other side, blood on the door, blood on the door leading to the blocade he made. He opened the room.



Madigan: "Shit."



Blood was everywhere, especially on the bed. There was a rotting corpse laying on the ground, all hacked up and missing chunks here and there, even part of its face. It was covered in blood, just leaning over itself. It wasn't his sister. The look of the dismembered body didn't even affect him, even to the smallest degree. He closed the door and moved onto the room directly on the other side of it, a mini kitchen. Blood was smeered here and there, and was potent in one of the corners. The bathroom door was slightly opened, but nothing was found when searched. There was one last place to look. The barricade that he made covered most of the hallway, and unless it had been moved, the only place to go is upstairs. Two medium sized rooms waited there, one being an entertainment center, another being a small paintball range he and his brother used. He readied his shotgun and opened the door leading to the barricade, and proceeded up the stairs. Ever so cautiously, he moved up the strairs as he pointed the gun whereever he looked, like a soldier. In the room to his left, there were three corpses. One flat out in the middle of the ground, one in the doorway of a small bathroom, and another which seemed to stand. All of them were as dismembered as the last. He opened the door to his left, leading to the paintball range, and went inside. He closed the door behind him, and looked out the large window in front of him. There was nothing in this room, and nothing outside. Now, he heard shouting. It was the Sgt, and Madigan noticed that the shouting was getting closer to him. It was at this point, that he knew what Harris was screaming. Artillery. The screetching noise of incoming artillery filled the open air, as a shell blew apart the house in what was the entertainment center. Kyle had a nice view of the stars, however he assumed it as a horrid view, when he noticed the Russian "frogfoot" bomber making a dive at his house. Firing the chaingun, ripping through the wood and metal which composed the structure of the house. One missile was let loose when he turned left, and it destroyed the area where his parents slept. More artillery was on its way, but he couldn't get out of the way. A number of meters behind him, the shell hit, and sent the floor he was standing on, down into the driveway in front of him. With two or three more artillery hits, he stood up with his ears ringing and vision blurred, trying to get out of the sence of a nearby hit. He turned around to see that most of his house, and a good portion of the neightbors house were gone. Moans of pain came from his right, and he searched for his Stoger out of reflex. It was about 8 feet to his left, so he pulled out his Mausburg from his holster. He switched it so he held it with his right hand, and got a man in his sights. The moans kept coming from the man, limping towards him. Madigan yelled at him to stop, in three different languages. He knew the first shot was buckshot, and at this range, the man wouldn't survive. This immediately became irrelevent, as he noticed the blood driping off of every inch of the man. His right foot was gone. He had no jaw, no tongue, and half of his skull was missing. Chunks of flesh where gone, his left arm seemed to be nothing but bone except of a large piece of flesh hanging off of it. This wasn't like a movie, the man wasn't walking at him screaming "Brains!", he wasn't holding his arms out at him trying to reach for his fresh flesh. Madigan aimed for the right sholder, and pulled the trigger. The second the trigger was pulled, Madigan pumped the shotgun, putting a slug in the chamber. What he had declared as a zombie, now lay on the ground with the flesh of his sholder blown all over the place, and the bone was cracked or broken. Still, it got up, and did so slowly. He got over to it just as it was about to be standing tall, and hit it in the face with the butt of his shotgun, in this case just his hand covering the pistol grip. Still, it went down. He immediately aimed where he believed it would fall, and adjusted his aim very slightly when it hit the ground. A large crack filled the air as the slug tore the beasts brain into pieces. He loaded two more buckshot into the shotgun and holstered it, grabbed his Stoger and ran for his house. He felt as if it were his duty to secure the Colonel and protect him, with or without the Sgt.

The Manual

Chapter two




January 13th, 2006.

I've never seen so many dead. Millions in Europe, gone. Japan is under total controll, all of asia with exception to Russia, has been annihilated. I sit now, with my Comrads, in one of America's new "tilt rotor" aircraft. The pilots call it a medium lift helicopter, my comrads and I only refer to it as a transformer. There are seven of us, all togehter, and it is our job to assist America in its defense. Since the motherland seems to be the only place that is not yet under siege, we intend to help America, so the American's will in turn, help us in the future. However, I wish the pilot did not decide to take a rout over a city currently under attack. The slaughter that the troops and I witnessed was nearly umbarable. We are to be dropped off, and link up with a convoy, somewhere in Massachusettes. Apparently the convoy is to move through the towns and pick up living, and evacuate them. Our job is to assist, and we are basically assaulting anything they ask us to. We are not defending the convoy, but we are fighting for it. Now that we are in flight, and have been for quite some time, all on board have been talking about what has happened in the world. As far as we know, what once were people are now cannibals, and they seem to take a lot of damage before they die. The pilots kept refering to them as zombies, but I know there are no such thing. The animals seem to be extremely high in number, and knowledge of how they came about has not yet been obtained. An American squad was apparently attacked by soldiers, and I have been informed that these American's have some kind of superior knowledge on the situation, and that's were we are heading. This makes us wonder if the convoy's mission is dedicated to the hopeless souls trying to survive, or to the Colonel trapped in the town. It does not matter. Touchdown is in seconds, and our drop-off location has been broadcasted to the local town, so that few may be evacuated in our aircraft.

- End log -



He saw it pass by, a V-22 Osprey. America's new medium lift aircraft, replacing the Seahawk. He was surprised to see it, and assume that Special Operations was using it. That was besides the point, he and the Sgt. had taken refuge in the local church, for the time being. Half a dozen people were inside, excluding Madigan and Harris. There was a family of five, a mother and a father, as well as two brothers and a daughter. There was another man, standing in the doorway which led outside. The family was talking to themselves, wondering if they would die. Madigan knew something had happened, since all firing had stopped the day prior. Had all the friendlies died? And by what, zombies or enemy soldiers? He sat and thought, and had been doing so, for the past two days.

Harris: "Madigan, we've got intel on the convoy's arrival, and a squad of ruskies landed at the police station. The two are going to meet up at town hall, just outside the church. When they meet up, we'll go out there and let them know what we do."

Madigan: "Yes sir."

Only seconds passed when the sound of an explosion ringed in the direction of the police station. A number of thumps, probably a crash. It was immediately assumed by both Harris and Madigan, the sounds came from a downed V-22. It was the only friendly in that direction, it had to be them. Yet, they waited for word from the crew. Half an hour dragged on, as fire cracked out in the same direction.

Madigan: "AK-101s and G36Cs, sir. Russians and Germans?"

Harris: "Well, those are definetaly Russians out there. There is a chance that those are Germans, and it would make a lot of sence if it was. We're going down there, crossing up behind the fleet center and up on the left, we should either have flank on the enemy, or contact with the russians. On me, move."


The two men moved, fast and silent. They travelled down the streets, noticing the zombies in the distance, but paying more attention as to where one might pop out at them. When they were out in the open, Harris handed Madigan three frag grenades, and one smoke. Kyle immediately attached them to his vest, and continued forward. As the open became the closed, and they moved behind the fleet center to gain the highground, Madigan readied his Stoger. He had five slugs in it, and the buckshot which he had prepared for his mausburg. The Sgt. brought up his weapon for the first time, and Madigan noticed it was a SCAR-H, a new weapon intended for Spec Ops. It was a rugged assault rifle, firing .308 winchester. Madigan hoped the Sgt. was a good shot. They moved up the hill, still no contact with anyone. Harris went prone and looked down on the police station and the parking lot accross from it. Madigan crouched behind him, to his right, and tried to see what was going on. The sgt. had binoculars, and had a look of surprise on his face.

Harris: "Then what shot down the osprey?"

Madigan: "What's the situation, sir?"

Harris: "Russians and Germans are using the V-22 as cover. About, three dozen zombies are approaching them from the right and the front. If they need to get out, they can flee to the left, but I don't know why they wont. Well, these men still need help. Use two of your frags, frag the right bulk. I'll use one of mine on that group of six to the left."

Madigan got up and ran to his right. Harris was puzzled, but tossed his grenade at the group of six. Madigan ran right past four of them, and ran right into seven of them. He slowly backed up and slung his stoger around him, and readied his M4. He bolted to his left, and Harris knew what he just did. He made three groups of zombies into one, saving a precious grenade for later. He noticed his grenade go off to his left, and six zombies became very fine kibbles and bits. It was his last high explosive grenades, he only had a frag and a signal smoke left. He moved from prone to crouch and began to pick off a few zombies as they approached the V-22. Madigan, on the other hand, wasn't the best with a grenade. His frag only managed to kill nine, leaving four more alive. He brought up his rifle and unleashed four rounds from his M4A1 Carbine, immediately bringing one of them down. He carefully aimed and put a .223 remmington into the skull of another, but it didn't go down. It was close, too. So he slugged it in the face with his rifle and unloaded on the last two, dropping them down. He got on his knees above the zombie he hit, and broke its neck. Harris noticed him get up, and he opened fire on a zombie coming from behind. Madigan hopes came alive, Harris was a crack shot. There were no more zombies in sight, so Madigan moved to the russians. However, he saw Harris. The Sgt. hadn't moved and still had his rifle aimed in the direction of the V-22, aimed at what he believed were the Germans. The russians yelled something at him, probably meant "Thanks.", or something to the affect. Madigan was about to ask for a SitRep, when the Germans opened fire on him, and the Russians. Four ruskies went down in seconds, the remaining three took cover behind the V-22, and Madigan dived in the same position. He took one of the frags and gently tossed it to the other side of the V-22, as Harris began to pick off the germans. The grenade killed two, injured one from what he heard, and Harris picked off one. The russian next to him held up two fingers, and kept repeating something in russian. Magidan assumed he was saying "two.", and then he charged. Dived in front of the aircraft, rolled and came up with his rifle pointing at the Germans. The remaining german was trying to assist his last team member, who was missing a leg, and had shrepnel cuts on his arms and stomach. Kyle reloaded his rifle, he had a drum mag and two - thirty round mags, as well as his current magazine which had less than half the ammunition in it. He punched in a thirty round mag, and slung it around him, bringing up his Stoger again. Harris made his way down, and both him and the Russians confronted the Germans.

Yuri: "My name is Yuri, I belong to a Russian spetnaz group assigned to search for the Colonel, injured in combat. My friend here is Vladimir, he speaks no english. Your American aircraft was hit by a stinger when it was trying to land. When there was the crash, animals attempted to come at us, and one of them got at a dear friend of mine. The remainder of my squad executed the beast and the soldier, and noticed that there were many more of the animals coming to our location, and we saw a number of German soldiers approach us from the adjacent parking lot. Since then, we have been fending off the demons, and now I only assume it was the Germans who destroyed the craft, and only used us to fend off the beasts."

Harris: "My name is Seargent Harris, United States Army. That's quite a story, we assume that the Germans are attempting to invade, using the zombie attacks as a diversion. All well and done, are you not the troops assigned to assist the convoy?"

Yuri: "We are not. There was another offsprey, which reported gunfire. They left the area to a secondary rondevue point, and decided to meet with the convoy at the church in half an hour. I believe that, since there are so few of us, we should wait at the church for the convoy?"

Madigan: "Agreed."

Harris led the way as Yuri and Madigan followed. The remaining anonymous russian soldier followed far behind, he was taking his time. When they got back to the church, they boarded up all entrances and exits, and decided on how to defend it untill word was recieved of the convoy. The unnamed soldier climbed up to the organ player, and sat at a large painted window. He nocked out the glass with his rifle, a russian SVD, and set up his bipod. He wasn't going anywhere for a while. Madigan noticed the absence of two family members, the parents.

Stranger: "They just left, kid. Didn't say a word or nothen', just left. Kids were asleep at the time, they ain't got a clue where their parents went, trust me I asked."

Madigan found this very odd, he wondered who the people were. Perhaps they went to go look for the landing V-22, its location was on the radio. The children didn't even seem bothered by the fact that their parents were gone, they just sat there talking to themselves. Madigan went over to talk to them, when he noticed they were speaking in German.

Pretty interesting stuff. Bring on the next chapter, I wanna see what happens next

If I get a few more comments, I'll post more. Spent about three hours on the first chapter, one and a half on the second, I don't have the time to do a third right now.


Please, if you have something bad to say, then say it. I don't care about flaming and the like.

God does this man remind me of myself as i started my writing career on this site?

hey man i love you

just playin


kickass story...actaully its more like a play...but i like it non the less

It's a real nice story you have there. It's very well built, not just "zombies attack from nowhere!" You have made your own war. Kudos for you.

As criticism, it's a little odd that our main character Madigan is so cold about the anihilation of his famliy. And it may seem to me that Madigan didn't know there was an invasion of USA. Did the invasion come like *pop!* ? Also it's a little werid that everyone knows every name for anything. A-10, G36c, etc.

Even if it may seem like I don't like it from all that critic (It's constructive ) I really love the story. Keep writing d00d

Your critisism kind of unfolds after a while. On another note, once you're familiar with the stuff, you can identify just about anything by the sound or how it's used, without actually seeing it. With the right mind set, you wont simply panic and crawl in a corner if something like this happened. The majority would do something similar, which is why it struck you as odd. Again, that all folds out later.

Thanks, it just was kinda confusing some of it. Looking forward for more!