Deadrising: Trapped (Open)

[The Rahzgriz]

((OOC: I may make an OOC thread later. But probably not. This would be either the first or second thread in a series of RPs based on video games. You do not know have to know anything about the game, just the basic premise or story. If you want information on the game this one is based on, check out Wikipedia.))

"Why-!"

Sid wacked the zombie over the head with a hockeystick.

"Won't-!"

Another denting blow to the creature's head.

"You-!"

A final swipe with all his strength at the head.

"DIE?!?!"

The head of the creature of the lving dead was lobbed off at the neck and it flew for a few yards before smacking into the ground. Sid simply stood there, panting and posed like he had just hit a goalie-smacking puck. A moment later, he shook himself out of it and ran back inside the expansive sports store of the Willamette Mall. As he ran, he looked back down at his blood-spattered hockeystick. I'll never make fun of toothless, brain-dead hockey players ever again.... Looking for anything that looked sturdy or dangerous or worth using as a weapon, Sid stocked up on whatever he thought could help him get through the hordes of zombies roaming the mall.

-----------

God, or the government or whoever, only knew why the entire town had now become undead. Save for a couple of people who, for whatever reason, stayed alive and were now trying to survive and get out. But the National Guard has quarantined the entire small town, and told reporters that riots were going on. It was partly true, but they left out the little tidbit about the dead walking once more among the few remaining living.

Willamette was a small town, one easily looked over by anyone not looking for it. Despite that, it had a very large and expansive mall that seemed to be a nexus for this whole zombie debacal. Which, obviously, meant bad news for those left alive in the mall. Now they had to survive for as long as they could.

 

[Slance]

DaZeD aNd CoNfUsEd

Chase awoke in a rather unpleasant situation. Well rather unpleasant was an understatement; since the first thing he felt when he woke up was the horrible stinging sensation from a syringe he had forgotten to take out, after shooting up.

Heroine obviously. Too much heroine, considering he passed out almost immediately after getting his fix. And now had no idea why he was in a locked bathroom stall. Then, slowly it all began to come back to him, the memories still blurred and uncertain, being one of the many side affects of inducing a large amount of opiate in to ones system. Or most drugs for that matter.

His girlfriend: Sarah Jennifer Schroeder, or Say Jay to her friends, had broken up with him unceremoniously over the phone. They had only been together for maybe three and a half months, but he felt that at least warranted a face-to-face break up. Not that he had wanted to see her, no not in the least. He would of just preferred if she had sounded even the tiny bit upset over the matter. But quite the contrary she had sounded light-hearted, almost relieved, like a weight had been taken off her shoulders. The conversation lasted maybe fifteen seconds. He had been enjoying a nice, iced mocha-Oreo latte when he received the call. Shutting his cell phone with a snap, he had dropped the barely touched, five-dollar drink in to one of the malls many identical, waste receptacles. He then headed strait for the closest men’s washroom, which happened to have an out of order sign pinned to the door. Disregarding the notice, he had quickly locked him self in a stall, loaded up a needle and pulled the plunger, all in perhaps four, maybe five seconds. Just before taking the dive, he had a fleeting feeling of a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. After all, he had not used in four months, before he had even met Say Jay.

Anyway, as it were now, he was leaning on the wall for support, sort of stumbling down the deserted hallway, just out side the out of order bathroom, wondering how the hell long he had been a sleep in that dingy little restroom stall. Not to mention; why couldn't he hear any of the regular mall noise, no constant chatter, no speakers on the walls playing radio. Nothing. Just silence. Why did the mall sound almost, completely empty?

 

[IDreamofBunnies]

Beau slammed the metal door behind him and pushed the janitor's dolly in font of it, forming what was at least, a temporary barrier. He hadn't been able to get a hold of Reggie on the radio, and he figured his fellow security guard was probably losing it in the monitoring room, he would have a better view of whatever craziness was going on in the mall after all.

He turned the corner and looked up the stairs. There was Reggie alright, and he had lost it. His co-worker was shambling towards him silently taking the stairs nice and slow. Beau had seen the movies, he wasn't sure how this kind of thing operated in real life but he wasn't about to let himself get bitten or scratched. Eschewing his baton in favor of the longer mop attached to the dolly, he ran up the stairs using the mop to keep the zombified Reggie at bay. He was able to navigate around Reggie until he was above him on the stairs, he then attempted to force the former security guard to fall down by pushing the damp end of the mop in his face. Reggie fell down to the bottom of the stairwell and Beau threw the mop down after him before he ran up to the monitoring room. He swung open the door and was faced with the backside of another coworker.

"Miguel why," Beau cut himself short, taking another hint from the movies he knew why Miguel was here (and hadn't helped him with Reggie) and not out by the food court, he too was a ghoul. Beau fumbled to get his baton out while Miguel turned and lunged at him with that speed zombies always seem to have when they're just a yard or two away from you. In a momentary fit of inspiration, Beau actually managed to remember something from that weekly Judo class at the YMCA and was able to perform a servicable throw, sending Miguel partway down the stairs. He then closed the door, locked it, and propped a chair to help brace the door.

Finally able to relax a moment, Beau sat in one of the remaining chairs and took a sip from the bottle of soda he had left here before turning to the bank of monitors. The zombies were everywhere, that was for sure. He started carefully looking for living people. He noticed that someone had switched off the music, so he decided to make use of the intercom. He flipped it on and picked up the microphone.

"This is Willamette Mall security. I'm going to do my best to help any," he paused not quite knowing what to call those who weren't zombies,"survivors out there. If you can wave at a camera without giving yourself away to those things go right on ahead so I can get a head count."

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Thank God for Auntie Anne, she thought.

The floor beneath her was cold, cold enough to make her shiver, and the man laying across her was heavy, but she lay back anyway, accepting the two for the moment, resting, letting the sweat dry.

Odd how he came out of nowhere, rolling through the mall parking lot on a motorcycle at just the right time. One of them had followed her, was reaching out for her with groping hands that she doubted would understand the word "no." So few men seemed to, in her recent experience, but in this case, the hands belonged to a woman. The motorcycle moved past, the man's hand grabbed a chunk of hair, and the woman was dragged away with it. Only then did the man realize that his ring was caught in the zombie's hair. As he tried to let go, the zombie fell, pulling the man with it. The cycle overturned, the man falling hard to the ground and rolling away, leaving the zombie behind but trailing long strands of blonde hair like a pom-pom from his ring.

The zombie crawled forward, closing the distance between him and her in faster strides than she would have on foot.

Eva guessed she could have run, just turned and kept going. The back entrance to the mall, the seldom used doorway that had served her well on smoke breaks during her Auntie Anne's Pretzels employment days, was only about twenty yards away. She couldn't leave him though. He'd saved her life, most likely. How could she?

She glanced around, looking for something that might be of help and hoping that if any of the others swarming the front of the building were giving the man chase, she'd have at least some time before the rounded the corner.

There, by the dumpster. An old cardboard box had been left outside, half-open, with what looked like the handle of an ax sticking out. She ran to it, gripped the handle and drew it from the cardboard, surprised at how light it was. Plastic, she realized, then hurried over to the zombie anyway, swinging it down and striking it on the back of the head, little real damage, but the zombie's head struck the ground, then bounced back up like a ping pong ball, only to be knocked back down again. After about five hits like this, the zombie's arms slipped on the asphalt, and it fell onto its chest.

It would have to do.

She ran to the man, grabbing one arm and trying to pull him to his feet.

"C'mon," she groaned, trying not to be too loud. It was pointless. The man was unconscious. Also, the zombie had managed onto all fours again and was crawling toward them. She let go o fthe man's arm, ran back to the zombie and used the plastic ax to swipe her arms from beneath her, sending it onto its chest again.

When she reached the man again, she didn't bother with trying to wake him. She grabbed his arm, planted his feet, and started to drag him across the pavement. When she reached the door, the zombie was reaching for his feet, crawling just inches out of grasping range.

One last swing with the ax, and she kicked the zombie over, rolling it a few feet away before looking up and seeing several of the zombies that had been outfront staggering toward them with intent.

I hope my ID badge still works, she had thought, turning back to the door...

Now, with the door closed and the chain locked around it interior handles, she relaxed for a moment. This would all be better, she thought, if this man would just wake up...

She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the outside pocket of her jacket as the voice, distant as the stairwell she was at the bottom of was a fair ways from a loudspeaker, came to her ears:

"This is Willamette Mall security. I'm going to do my best to help any... survivors out there. If you can wave at a camera without giving yourself away to those things go right on ahead so I can get a head count."

 

[Quiet_Cool]

((OOC: Did this thing die already?))

Q_C

 

[IDreamofBunnies]

//Seriously...

 

[Vixandra]

OOC: This looks interesting- anyone pm Rhaz about it?
Would like to join.

 

[Slance]

Silently he glides from out of the Etheral Myst's that surround him...

I'm in.. Even though I know I was probably one of the leading contributor’s to the death of this thread, via my 2 - 3 year absence... sry 'bout that folks. Would still love to do this thread, great character promise... plus 'just like the idea too...