posted on Jun, 16 2010 @ 10:55 PM
I have a page or two of stuff. I'm finding that I have myself in a travel predicament; as my character is succumbing to the effects of the virus.
I think I need to be captured and taken to a FEMA camp, or something. I'm in St. Paul Minnesota and am just going around eating the brains of whoever
is left in my neighborhood. I doubt I can make my character seem at wits enough to climb into a vehicle and drive...
Anybody want to schedule a rendezvous?
Here's what I got thus far...
Dr. David M. Demetrius M.D. P.H.D.
Hungarian Immigrant Age: 38
Class Valedictorian: '08 Graduate School of Medicine Univ. of Penn.
100% Scholarship Recipient
Employer: United Hospital (St. Paul Minnesota)
Resident ER Physician/On-call ICU
The shredded flesh hanging down his cheek-bone looks grotesque to him in the mirror as he contemplates the last few days’ events. It’s been seven
days since he has eaten… He reaches for his Grandfather’s barbers -scissors then begins to sever the flesh from his face. Oblivious to any pain,
he shears-off the largest piece in one swift motion. It falls into the sink. He wastes no time completing his task, and is soon wiping his face with a
Ever since the morning he had to hide himself in his basement; running down-stairs and sealing the door shut with whatever he could find to
wedge it closed, he has been incensed with despair, and morbid thoughts of suicide. But given his back-ground he knows the effects of
When the outbreak first took hold in his beloved city of St. Paul, he was the attending emergency room physician. He stuck to a regimented
diet and exercise routine, as sporadic as his working schedule would allow him to be. But now, all is forgotten. He reaches down into the sink and
takes a piece of the flesh. He smells it. He turns it about as to inspect it. He then places it on his tongue. He is surprised at its salty taste. He
nibbles at it at first. Its texture is like a saltine cracker dipped in soup for just the right amount of time. Just the way he loved it. Before he
realizes what he has done, there is no flesh left in the sink.
He then scrambles to the door and throws himself against it to keep whatever it is on the other side from getting in. He hears more than one
voice moaning and groaning beyond the door. The door soon gives way and he is horrified by the faces staring blankly ahead. He makes a dash through
them towards the stairs, and reaches the top step. Hoards of strangers’ faces turn to look at him. His once upon a time tidy kitchen was now
ransacked; nothing was in its happy place. His home was nolonger happy.
He makes a run for the front door hurdling bodies as he goes. He reaches it, turns back to see if he is being followed. The intruders pay
more attention to the bodies being devoured. One body that appeared to be one of the fresher/ less decomposed was sat up-right in a chair. He
recognized her face. It was the face on most of the pictures on the mantelpiece. He knelt-down before her and taking her hand in his, he began to
release what remained of his numbing emotions. He got back on his feet then grabbed her in a cradle from the chair. Brain matter oozed down onto his
arm as her head relaxed on top of it.
He fell to the floor with her in his arms. He looked around the room and saw the many faces staring at him. The room fell silent. He pressed
his lips on hers. He petted her head and it felt to him like nothing he had ever experienced prior. He let her body rest on the floor. He sniffed his
hand. He licked his hand. He then immediately reached into her skull and pulled-out some brain matter and began eating it.
Having not quenched his
hunger, he rises to his feet. He again looks around the room. His visitors are all making their way towards the door, and leaving. He files in behind
them, and together they forge into the next home, across the street. Screams are heard in the up-stairs back bedroom. He forces his way up the stairs
and proceeds to his next meal. Along the way he finds a hammer sitting on a laundry hamper in the hall-way. Underneath it is a picture frame. He
takes a hold of the hammer and raises it above his head. The little girl is in a fetal position in the corner of her room. He swings the hammer down
with the claw end penetrating her skull. It gets stuck. He wiggles it loose, and then swings another blow. This time with the blunt end, her skull
caves-in. One of the zombies reaches for her brains; David swings the hammer down upon his skull. It cracks wide open. As his brains fall from his
skull, another zombie reaches for a handful. He proceeds to the little girl lying prone on the floor, dead, and commences eating her brains.
As he helps himself to the little girl’s warm brains, one zombie tried to pick-up the hammer. David connects his elbow across that
zombie’s chin, retrieving his eating tool. He clutches it in one hand while he finishes his meal with the other. Soon afterward, he rises to his
feet then leaves the room in search of the little girl’s family members; the O’Tooles’ from across the street, a fading memory losing its self
in his mind. After searching all three floors and finding only other zombies in search of food, David makes his way back outside. The moon is full and
rising above the tree-line. The sky is dark with thick clouds rolling-in. Most of all of the other houses on the street have their lights turned off.
As he makes his way down the street, he sees one with its lights on. Then he sees movement beyond the lacey curtain.
He looks to see if he has any companions or rather, meal contestants. There’s at least seven that he can make out in the darkness of the
street. He squeezes his hammer then heads for the door. Just as he tried to turn the knob, the door swings open.
“You came to the wrong house tonight!” Mr. Stanley Leonard, the retired Philadelphia beat-cop says as he pumps his twelve gauge
shot-gun, raising it to David’s forehead.
“Click” He pumps it a second time.
“Click” Oh God, he mumbles.
David grabs the shotgun by the barrel and pulls Stanley closer. He swings his hammer and sticks the claw into Stanley’s ear. Then he pulls
Stanley out the door onto the porch. After he struggles to remove the hammer from Stanley’s ear, he enters the house and heads toward Stanley’s
wife Sarah. She is hiding under the dinner table. David grabs her by the foot then pulls at her. She is screaming so loudly and kicking at him that he
gives-up, and begins looking around the house for Daphne, Katy’s best friend.
The rest of the house is silent except for the screaming going-on upstairs. David found Daphne hiding inside the dryer. Her restlessness
gave her away.
ETA: formatting difficulties
[edit on (6/16/1010 by loveguy]