Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » Sectors of the Dead (OPEN)

"No one expected it. No one deserved it."

A few years ago there was a illness called 'Zenadose.'
Zenadose would spread to anyone who was not protect or causious of the illness. Created from the very essence of a cancer 'cure' gone wrong. Zenadose made the term 'Zombies' true,but more elite. Zombies were now worst then any movie thought of. They were faster then cheetahs, which made it harder to escape from. They were able to pull lamp poles out of the ground and throw them two miles if they wanted to. Their souls were stripped from their bodies but they were still as smart as when they had them. Yes,this illness could be the end. Only a few can get away, but their time here is short.
I am Striker Wolf-19. I was exposed to the illness before it became a big deal. It worked successfully on me,but when they tried it on everyone else...they grew even more ill,but became raged and started to distort everything, becoming vicious and biting other people. It started to spread until the land was dead. I am here to save those in need. That is my purpose.

A rather sculpted male stood at the side of a building,where nearby was a pack of Zenadose victims were. He took a deep breath and ran out from his cover. The Zombies noticed quickly as their bodies grew a little and their speed increased as they started to run towards him. He kept his running speed and had little emotion as he flipped over one of the zombies and slammed his gun onto its head and kicked it while doing another flip. His brown eyes studied the other zombies as his brown hair slowly flowed over one of his eyes. He put the gun up and pulled out his two daggers and sliced through the zombies bodies. It didn't kill them, but more of 'slowed them down.'
He threw the daggers in the air as he flipped in the air along with them. He pulled out two pistols and shot at each of their heads then he swirled around and kicked the daggers along two of their heads. Their bodies melted and turned into a thick smoke and the others died along with it for some reason. He landed on the ground in a crouch position while pulling his hand down in front of him to keep himself balanced. He panted a little as he slowly lifted his head. He pulled a needle from his vest and punctured his neck with it and injected a green liquid that seemed to relax him. He cracked his knuckles and stood up as he threw the empty needle onto the ground. He started to walk once more, not making a sound. He was looking for any survivors,doubting there were any. He listen closely, trying to hear a disturbance between living and the walking dead.

Alain had no clue how he got here. The buildings around him were ancient - to his standards - and so were the cars. "I'm in the past? Stupid scientists." It was too quiet here. The sound of his plated boots echoed softly through the streets. "I don't like this place... It's too quiet." He took out his assault rifle and held it loosely in hand, at the ready.

Deirdre breathed quietly, staying as quiet a possible. Wrapping her hair up in a small ponytail that sat a bit higher on her head, causing small hairs to fall to her neck. She had been staying as hidden as possible for the last couple days. She really had no idea how lucky she had been considering that she has somehow survived these 'monsters'. Deirdre checked her ammo clips, making sure she was good in her stocks of .50 cal and 9mm rounds. She tightened the strap that held up her Barrett sniper rifle and polished her pistol. She had been sitting up against a cold cement wall, entirely covered in messily scribbled on scriptures or poems. The room was already well barricaded like it had been for a the last week. This seemed to be a small safe house for her for now. It didn't seem it would stay this way for long though. She was running out of supplies and she would most likely have to venture out into the zombie infested streets to find them. She took a deep breath as she stood up and adjusted her backpack that rest under her rifle.

It was time to leave. Deirdre prepared herself a bit knowing that they would charge her. She'd have to keep out of the streets and hope she wouldn't be handling larger groups of them. Drawing her pistol, she slowly opened the door to the hallway. It was empty, thank god. She proceeded forward and soon made it to the roof top no problem. Looking around, there didn't seem to be any zombies up there. Deirdre began to run, leaping through the air to the next rooftop. So far so good. She continued along, jumping and rolling over obstacles as she went. She suddenly was forced to stop. A main street. "Crap.." she muttered to herself. The gap was wider then the normal streets and there seemed to be several zombies down there. Pushing her bangs off her face, she backed up the full length of the rooftop and did a full on sprint, aiming for a balcony on the apartment building across from her. Damn. She was just short of the balcony railing. This wasn't good, she could hear the couple of zombies become alert of her presence. Tumbling to the street she rolled and looked over her shoulder to see the zombies starting to charge at her. She was off in a sprint along the street, jumping over cars and barriers. From any other location nearby you would probably hear the sounds of screeching zombies and gun shots.

The male heard the noise very well and his eye swung to the street he needed to travel to get to that sound. If he could hear it, surely the zombies could. He pulled his gun out and held it out in front of him quietly as he started to run. He finally ran to the area he heard the sound echoing from. He stood hiding quietly behind the wall as he took a peak and jumped out wih his gun pointed and his face emotionless. He shot his gun as something behind Alain exploded and a dark mist came from behind him. He put his gun up and sighed. "You don't look from around here." He finally noticed the presence of another person. He loaded another gun and listen again.

Her heart beat fast in her chest as she tried to keep her breathing steady as she leaped over another car. She quickly shot down one the several zombies clean through the eye. They'd had been chasing her tail down the streets the one zombie fell to the group and skidded along, its blood splattered on the pavement. The other zombie that had been chasing her, leaped over the car at her. She had to think quickly. Her first reaction was to duck and roll under the car she stood beside. Her heart stopped for a second as the zombie gripped the ground nearby and looked like it was ready to run at her when suddenly a couple streets over she heard an explosion. She saw the zombie stop a moment and stare in the direction. Perfect distraction. Pushing herself out from under the car she dived and rolled towards the momentarily distracted zombie she then knelt in front of the zombie who turned towards her to only find a pistol point blank to the face before several shots were let off into it's face. Deirdre pushed herself away, pistol aimed at the now dead zombie for a moment before she thought that she should get out of the street and into cover.

Striker started to fallow the knew sound,moving quickly. He started to see more zombies from the dust and gravel of the dead. He put up his pistol and pulled out his revolver. Soon as he saw the zombies shift into a stronger being, he swore in his mind. They ran at him faster then a cheetah as he flipped over them and shot them all perfectly in the head, not wasting a single bullet. He flipped off his hand and huffed. He reloaded his gun.

Hearing some other gunshots, she tensed up slightly as she dashed into a nearby empty building. There was a large hole in the roof but it would do for the moment. Deirdre was breathing fast for a moment before she calmed herself. Her heart continued to hammer as she crept through the rubble onto what had been left of the second floor of the small building she was in. Scoping outside through a broken window and hid herself, not knowing what to expect if it was possibly another survivor she waited in silence.

He was trapped and his bullets were not killing the zombies in time. He closed his eye as he took out a red grenade. He threw it on the ground and closed his eyes as it exploded, killing all the other zombies. When the smoke cleared he was standing there with blood dripping down his mouth as he started to walk to cover. He nearly collapsed but kept walking. He searched his rest for his meds and finally found them, quickly stabbing them into his bloodstream. He was panting but his breath slowed down and he was back to a normal pattern. He coughed and sighed. He reloaded all of his guns.

Looking out further down the street, she caught sight of the male and watched the spectacle he had just performed. Blinking, she moved along the wall toward a pile of rubble that lead up to the roof's edge. She slowly climbed up it, the sound of a bit of stone crumbling as she walked up it and peered up over the roof's top onto the street, equipping her rifle in case he was hostile. Checking the chamber, she watched him closely and hopefully he didn't notice her too quickly. Analyzing him from her distance it was a bit obvious he was injured at first until he seemed to inject himself with something. A little confused she suddenly slipped a bit, a couple larger pieces of rubble crumbling beside her and falling to the bottom of the building. It was moderately loud but seemed pretty normal for the amount of decay around, although she was probably in a more noticeable spot now that the rubble had probably given away her hiding spot.

He quickly noticed and his body shifted like the zombies did as he started to run faster then a cheetah and flipped up near her, then his body shifted back normal. He was only a more stable version of the zombies but it would still be startling. He grabbed her gun and pulled it back so it was behind her. "Listen, I'm not gonna hurt you, and it's best to keep sounds gone. If I can hear you, they can." he let go of her gun and looked down.

Deirdre felt her heart skip a few beats as he appeared in front of her. Her eyes widened as she squeaked a bit, reacting in a manner of leaping down from the rubble pile. She looked him over with her amber eyes before speaking out. "Who're you?" she asked in a cautious manner. It was clear she was not the type of person to trust someone who was like those damned zombies so easily.

"The name's Striker. I was the first one to get this illness and I was uneffected. When they saw this, they thought it would work for other people...but it didn't it killed them and made them into the creatures they are. I am able to do what they do,but better." He scratched his brown hair a little as he heard something. He could hear whispers of the dead. "Hey,I'll tell you the rest later, we should get to a safer spot!"

She stared at him for a second, contemplating about whether or not she should trust him. She stayed silent a moment before lowering her rifle, and holstering it onto her back. She figured if he tried anything she'd just have to deal with it. "Lead the way then." she said and she jump up onto the ledge beside him with a slightly cautious look about her still. But if he was true to his word, that he was unaffected she could probably most likely trust him. It was actually kind of a relief seeing someone who wasn't well... dead you could say.

He began to run, pulling out a gun just in case. His eyes were stiff with little emotion. He was one who loved to fight but not fight the very people he loved. He would die for anyone he had to protect. He panted a little as he jumped and he slammed his fist through a building like those damn zombies did. He wasn't like them at all though...he was just trying to help everyone to live.

She followed along, although not as fast as him she kept him in her sights as she leaped over rubble and destroyed things. Flinching in surprise at him suddenly punching through the side of the building she caught up to him. "Holy..." she muttered as she coughed a bit from the small cloud of dust. She looked around in the distance to make sure no zombies were coming as of yet, drawing out her pistol just in case. Hopefully wherever they were going wasn't infested with zombies.

He slammed through many buildings because, for zombies they will think that there is a stronger team of zombies around that would rip them apart if they even try to get near their team. Any that was around would surely get away from that area quickly. They were not as stupid as most zombies. His hand was soaked in blood from him wearing out his knuckles by punching buildings away and turning them to gravel. He felt a lot of pain as he kept punching, but he had to keep her safe.
He closed his eyes and punched through another building, restraining himself from even wincing. He finally turned a corner and went inside a building, waiting for her to enter so he could close the door and secure it. His hands were dripping blood and were making puddles on the ground. It would sting but he tried his best to ignore the pain.

She followed along and soon enough entered the secured. She suddenly stopped when she saw the puddles of blood.It was quite obvious to her that it was painful, the instant she saw blood. Eyes wide she ran up beside him "Whoa, whoa.. Wait." she reached into her backpack and grabbed out a medical kit. "Come here, you're bleeding and you need to be patched up." she said rather bluntly as she took off her backpack and rifle, setting them on the floor. It was sort of clear she didn't really have very much social experience and probably sounded a bit awkward.

Striker sighed and panted a little. "I'm fine," He lied as he pulled his hands back a little. His brown eyes for once showed emotion, but it wasn't exactly the correct one for this situation. Most people would have emotion of pain, but his was both pain and sorrow. She had reminded him of an old friend that was soon killed by the illness and turned into a zombie.
He hated to remember when he stuck a switchblade through her head to save more people. He felt bad for the body and gave it a proper funeral.

"No you're clearly not fine." Deirdre walked up to him, her amber eyes meeting his as she took out some gauze, alcohol and bandages. She reached out and tried to grab one of his hands so she could tend to them. "It won't hurt as much if you just get this out of the way."

"I...ugh...fine." He held out his hands and looked away, his hair falling over his eyes. His lips curled into a frown; he thought he didn't need anyone's help. He thought he could do it on his own. He slowly looked at her and smiled a bit. He was happy she was still alive because he thought she was good people.