Dougie
Dougie had seen one of the zombies when walking home from his small job. He dashed to the nearest location: the school. He knew he probably wasn't safe, but didn't expect them to actually be in the school. The zombie had been in the hallway outside the cafeteria. He had decided to hide himself in the theater room because pretty much anything there could be used as a weapon.
Dougie pushed himself into a supply closet in the theater room as he heard the voices of zombies drawing closer to the theater, in the halls. Well, they were more like gargles than actual voices.
DM Post
DM Post
He had noticed the person that had decided to hide inside of the supply closet, but even though he wanted to reach out to them he didn't dare to move. He too could hear the zombies closing in on them, and so he stood on the windowsill, hiding behind the curtain and keeping his hand pressed against his lips and his nose in a desperate attempt to not make a sound.
He felt lucky that the room was so big, as if it were any smaller they would definitely be able to smell him from the hallway and come in. The sound of their shuffling against the tiled floor didn't make it better, still his racing heartbeat sounded louder.
As the first zombie passed by the door of the theater without even looking into it, he almost let out a sigh of relief as he knew that any other zombies would follow that leading one mindlessly. They'd be safe and survive another day, at least so he thought until a loud sound behind him startled him and left him shaking to his very core as a zombie slammed it's hands against the window in a failed attempt of getting to him.
Spooked by the sound and the horrifying sight of the zombie on the other side of the window, he found himself falling off the windowsill while holding onto the curtain, which caused for the entire thing to come tumbling down with him and clatter loudly on the floor. As if that weren't bad enough, he could already see one of the zombies snap it's head in his direction, and he cussed under his breath as he tried to get up.
"Shit... Now we've got it coming."
Dougie
Dougie heard all the commotion from inside the supply closet. He knew his choices were to run or to stay. He wouldn't meet headfirst with a zombie if he stayed in the closet, he thought. He then heard another voice, his fingertips almost glued to the lock he was securing. He wanted to call out, make sure the person was okay, but that would get himself killed, would it not?
Dougie believed the coast was clear after not hearing anything for about an hour. He took one of the prop knives from the Julius Caesar production the last school year, and placed it in his back pocket. He knew it might not work, but he still needed that bit of security.
He carefully made his way out of the theater room, making sure not to trip on any boxes or loose props, and checked the hallways for those creatures. After not seeing any nearby, he ran down the hall and out the school back doors.
Dougie had seen one of the zombies when walking home from his small job. He dashed to the nearest location: the school. He knew he probably wasn't safe, but didn't expect them to actually be in the school. The zombie had been in the hallway outside the cafeteria. He had decided to hide himself in the theater room because pretty much anything there could be used as a weapon.
Dougie pushed himself into a supply closet in the theater room as he heard the voices of zombies drawing closer to the theater, in the halls. Well, they were more like gargles than actual voices.
DM Post
DM Post
He had noticed the person that had decided to hide inside of the supply closet, but even though he wanted to reach out to them he didn't dare to move. He too could hear the zombies closing in on them, and so he stood on the windowsill, hiding behind the curtain and keeping his hand pressed against his lips and his nose in a desperate attempt to not make a sound.
He felt lucky that the room was so big, as if it were any smaller they would definitely be able to smell him from the hallway and come in. The sound of their shuffling against the tiled floor didn't make it better, still his racing heartbeat sounded louder.
As the first zombie passed by the door of the theater without even looking into it, he almost let out a sigh of relief as he knew that any other zombies would follow that leading one mindlessly. They'd be safe and survive another day, at least so he thought until a loud sound behind him startled him and left him shaking to his very core as a zombie slammed it's hands against the window in a failed attempt of getting to him.
Spooked by the sound and the horrifying sight of the zombie on the other side of the window, he found himself falling off the windowsill while holding onto the curtain, which caused for the entire thing to come tumbling down with him and clatter loudly on the floor. As if that weren't bad enough, he could already see one of the zombies snap it's head in his direction, and he cussed under his breath as he tried to get up.
"Shit... Now we've got it coming."
Dougie
Dougie heard all the commotion from inside the supply closet. He knew his choices were to run or to stay. He wouldn't meet headfirst with a zombie if he stayed in the closet, he thought. He then heard another voice, his fingertips almost glued to the lock he was securing. He wanted to call out, make sure the person was okay, but that would get himself killed, would it not?
Dougie believed the coast was clear after not hearing anything for about an hour. He took one of the prop knives from the Julius Caesar production the last school year, and placed it in his back pocket. He knew it might not work, but he still needed that bit of security.
He carefully made his way out of the theater room, making sure not to trip on any boxes or loose props, and checked the hallways for those creatures. After not seeing any nearby, he ran down the hall and out the school back doors.
DM Post
There were a few zombies outside of the school, and inside there was movement going on too. This however was not a zombie, as a blonde haired head popped out of one of the doors near the back of the school. The person to whom the head belonged responded to the sound his footsteps had made, as she'd been listening quietly to make sure it was safe to come out.
"Hi," A soft voice spoke, although it was so soft that it wouldn't be the easiest thing to hear to start out with. It sounded like the voice hadn't been used in a bit, not over a period of weeks but at least a few days. The girl looked tired too, and the pile of candy wrappers she was leaving behind in the room she was exiting, would tell anyone that she'd survived on those and soda for a bit.
Her steps were shaky but she made her way out of the room fully, appearing to be about his age but possibly a few years older. There was a chance he'd seen her around when life was still normal, but it wasn't a certainty.
"Are you okay?" She asked, concern going to him rather than herself.
Dougie
Dougie had been making sure each hallway was clear, so he was a bit taken aback by the sight of an actual human - as far as he could tell. As a precaution, though, he stepped back a few spaces. "I... guess I'm okay? Are- Are you? If you're hurt, I think the nurse's office is unlocked. It almost always is."
DM Post
“Are they gone?” She asked with slight fear in her worried tone. She clutched at her arm, holding onto her unforced bicep as she looked around nervously. Her eyes go back to him and she manages a smile. “Thank you, but I’m okay. Really. Are you alright? I’ve been hiding pretty good, but...I don’t know for how much longer I can.”
She moved her hand down to stand in a more confident and ready position, both arms lowered and footing parted a bit more. Howls and growls, as well as the shuffling of the undead husks breach even the walls of the school. Eerily they let the presence known, as if to warn their prey that they will feed eventually. Be it their base instincts as primal and ravenous eaters or the slight stench of fresh flesh ripened with adrenaline, the zombies knew there was meat near. Unfortunately, until they were visually seen, their exact numbers were unknown.
Unfortunately, regarding their numbers, there were too many to risk even a distance encounter.
Dougie
"Sorry, but there's obviously no way they're gone. There seems to be a lot, or just one with a very good talent of echoing." Dougie rubbed his neck. "But seriously, I'm fine." He quickly looked over the other for scratches or bites. "Are you sure you're okay?" He reached for the keys in his bag, getting the sudden thought to stab her if she had any signs of unfeeling well. Was that necessary? Dougie thought so, given their situation.
Abigail
The day it happened, when everything went to hell in the proverbial hand-basket, started out normally for Abigail Winther. She woke up, showered, dressed in whatever was clean, bolted down her breakfast, snatched up her katana and hopped into Hansel Winther's (her fathers) police cruiser for a ride to school. It was on the drive there that everything went wrong. Cars began to crash, people were running through the streets, screaming and panicking. there were explosions from the crashed vehicles, sending wreckage and shrapnel cascading through the streets, several people felled by the fire, shock waves and twisted chunks of metal.
Hansel stepped out of the car and told his daughter to stay in the car, and ran forward towards the chaos. Abigail sat shaking in the front seat, clutching her backpack to her chest, watching with wide eyes as people kept running past. within moments, the people running past began to change. They began to slow down, some moving in a shambling shuffle and others loping along like a drunk trying to run. None of them seemed to notice Abigail sitting in the cruiser, but she could see that their eyes were lifeless, some even had open wounds, dislocated jaws, broken limbs, but did not seem to be bothered by it.
The drivers side opened again, and Abigail screamed as her father sat in the drivers seat, clutching his arm which was bleeding copiously, his face paper white. "Honey, you need to take my gun..... and take my survival pack in the back. I'm going to drive you to the school. Get inside, and get somewhere safe." Abigail tried to protest, to insist that her dad go to the hospital, but he shook his head and held up his injured hand to silence her. "people are changing out there, and the ones that change are the ones being bit by these..... things.... I'm hurt bad, promise me you will get to a safe spot..... PROMISE ME!" he demanded of her, and she simply nodded her head. With a gruff grunt, Hansel wrenched the car into gear, and started moving slowly forward, weaving through the carnage.
Three minutes later, he stopped in front of the School, and popped the trunk. He stepped out, and grabbed his survival pack from the trunk, and passed it to his daughter along with his flashlight, knife, and sidearm in its holster, then slowly hobbled around to the drivers side. "Get out, run for the doors, Shoot anything that gets in your way..... get somewhere safe. If they are okay, ill send your mother and brothers here to find you" And with that, he drove away, leaving Abigail standing on the sidewalk, terrified and alone. But her father had taught her well, having taught her survival skills from a young age and it was these skills that kicked in like some kind of second instinct. She turned on her heels, shouldering both her backpack and the survival kit, and holding on to her katana with the pistol drawn and at the ready.
She ran for the school doors which mercifully was open, only a few students having arrived early that day for zero period classes. no one stood in her way as she slipped inside, and bolted the doors behind her. She quickly found the schools cafeteria, generator room with its massive gasoline powered emergency generator. To her surprise, there was several billycans of fuel in a storage closet in the room too, and she made a mental note of it. If the world was really going to hell outside, eventually electricity would run out, and the generator would come in handy.
She searched the classrooms, finding no one. not even the school janitor. After a few minutes of deliberating, she decided that the students and teachers and staff had heard the news, and abandoned the school to return to their loved ones. This suited her just fine, as it meant she was unlikely to run into other people. With this thought, she began to go around the school, locking any outside doors, and pushing desks and tables up against the ground floor windows as a way of barricading them. She spent the whole first day doing this, and set up a makeshift camp in the cafeteria. She used the kitchen supplies and facilities to cook a hot meal for herself, and then cooked everything else that was not canned or preserved, so that it would not spoil. She had Meals Ready to Eat in her fathers pack, but she knew better than to touch them while she had plentiful fresh food, and with a hot meal in her belly, she laid down to sleep, clutching her katana and hoping against all hope that her Mother and Brothers would show up.
Over the next three days, she spent her time in the entrance hallway listening to music on her Zune, polishing her sword, practicing her martial arts and swordplay in the spacious cafeteria. When she got sweaty, she stripped and boiled water in one of the big kitchen pots, and with dish soap, washed herself and her clothes with hot soapy water. She explored when she got bored, finding art supplies in the art teachers room, and she painted on the halls of the school. She painted tips on the doors, noting what supplies she could find inside, making colored marks to note safe hiding spots, or quick escapes just in case someone managed to force their way into the school. And sure enough, after thirty six hours, the power cut out, and she would make daily trips to the generator to make sure it was topped off. To save power, she made sure all the lights in the school were off, all the breakers flipped to the off position except for the cafeteria. But as she waited by the entrance, listening for sounds of her family, her hope began to dwindle and fade, until it seemed like there would be no one coming for her. Apart from the things that could be heard moaning and shuffling along outside in the high school grounds, Abigail was truly alone.
There were a few zombies outside of the school, and inside there was movement going on too. This however was not a zombie, as a blonde haired head popped out of one of the doors near the back of the school. The person to whom the head belonged responded to the sound his footsteps had made, as she'd been listening quietly to make sure it was safe to come out.
"Hi," A soft voice spoke, although it was so soft that it wouldn't be the easiest thing to hear to start out with. It sounded like the voice hadn't been used in a bit, not over a period of weeks but at least a few days. The girl looked tired too, and the pile of candy wrappers she was leaving behind in the room she was exiting, would tell anyone that she'd survived on those and soda for a bit.
Her steps were shaky but she made her way out of the room fully, appearing to be about his age but possibly a few years older. There was a chance he'd seen her around when life was still normal, but it wasn't a certainty.
"Are you okay?" She asked, concern going to him rather than herself.
Dougie
Dougie had been making sure each hallway was clear, so he was a bit taken aback by the sight of an actual human - as far as he could tell. As a precaution, though, he stepped back a few spaces. "I... guess I'm okay? Are- Are you? If you're hurt, I think the nurse's office is unlocked. It almost always is."
DM Post
“Are they gone?” She asked with slight fear in her worried tone. She clutched at her arm, holding onto her unforced bicep as she looked around nervously. Her eyes go back to him and she manages a smile. “Thank you, but I’m okay. Really. Are you alright? I’ve been hiding pretty good, but...I don’t know for how much longer I can.”
She moved her hand down to stand in a more confident and ready position, both arms lowered and footing parted a bit more. Howls and growls, as well as the shuffling of the undead husks breach even the walls of the school. Eerily they let the presence known, as if to warn their prey that they will feed eventually. Be it their base instincts as primal and ravenous eaters or the slight stench of fresh flesh ripened with adrenaline, the zombies knew there was meat near. Unfortunately, until they were visually seen, their exact numbers were unknown.
Unfortunately, regarding their numbers, there were too many to risk even a distance encounter.
Dougie
"Sorry, but there's obviously no way they're gone. There seems to be a lot, or just one with a very good talent of echoing." Dougie rubbed his neck. "But seriously, I'm fine." He quickly looked over the other for scratches or bites. "Are you sure you're okay?" He reached for the keys in his bag, getting the sudden thought to stab her if she had any signs of unfeeling well. Was that necessary? Dougie thought so, given their situation.
Abigail
The day it happened, when everything went to hell in the proverbial hand-basket, started out normally for Abigail Winther. She woke up, showered, dressed in whatever was clean, bolted down her breakfast, snatched up her katana and hopped into Hansel Winther's (her fathers) police cruiser for a ride to school. It was on the drive there that everything went wrong. Cars began to crash, people were running through the streets, screaming and panicking. there were explosions from the crashed vehicles, sending wreckage and shrapnel cascading through the streets, several people felled by the fire, shock waves and twisted chunks of metal.
Hansel stepped out of the car and told his daughter to stay in the car, and ran forward towards the chaos. Abigail sat shaking in the front seat, clutching her backpack to her chest, watching with wide eyes as people kept running past. within moments, the people running past began to change. They began to slow down, some moving in a shambling shuffle and others loping along like a drunk trying to run. None of them seemed to notice Abigail sitting in the cruiser, but she could see that their eyes were lifeless, some even had open wounds, dislocated jaws, broken limbs, but did not seem to be bothered by it.
The drivers side opened again, and Abigail screamed as her father sat in the drivers seat, clutching his arm which was bleeding copiously, his face paper white. "Honey, you need to take my gun..... and take my survival pack in the back. I'm going to drive you to the school. Get inside, and get somewhere safe." Abigail tried to protest, to insist that her dad go to the hospital, but he shook his head and held up his injured hand to silence her. "people are changing out there, and the ones that change are the ones being bit by these..... things.... I'm hurt bad, promise me you will get to a safe spot..... PROMISE ME!" he demanded of her, and she simply nodded her head. With a gruff grunt, Hansel wrenched the car into gear, and started moving slowly forward, weaving through the carnage.
Three minutes later, he stopped in front of the School, and popped the trunk. He stepped out, and grabbed his survival pack from the trunk, and passed it to his daughter along with his flashlight, knife, and sidearm in its holster, then slowly hobbled around to the drivers side. "Get out, run for the doors, Shoot anything that gets in your way..... get somewhere safe. If they are okay, ill send your mother and brothers here to find you" And with that, he drove away, leaving Abigail standing on the sidewalk, terrified and alone. But her father had taught her well, having taught her survival skills from a young age and it was these skills that kicked in like some kind of second instinct. She turned on her heels, shouldering both her backpack and the survival kit, and holding on to her katana with the pistol drawn and at the ready.
She ran for the school doors which mercifully was open, only a few students having arrived early that day for zero period classes. no one stood in her way as she slipped inside, and bolted the doors behind her. She quickly found the schools cafeteria, generator room with its massive gasoline powered emergency generator. To her surprise, there was several billycans of fuel in a storage closet in the room too, and she made a mental note of it. If the world was really going to hell outside, eventually electricity would run out, and the generator would come in handy.
She searched the classrooms, finding no one. not even the school janitor. After a few minutes of deliberating, she decided that the students and teachers and staff had heard the news, and abandoned the school to return to their loved ones. This suited her just fine, as it meant she was unlikely to run into other people. With this thought, she began to go around the school, locking any outside doors, and pushing desks and tables up against the ground floor windows as a way of barricading them. She spent the whole first day doing this, and set up a makeshift camp in the cafeteria. She used the kitchen supplies and facilities to cook a hot meal for herself, and then cooked everything else that was not canned or preserved, so that it would not spoil. She had Meals Ready to Eat in her fathers pack, but she knew better than to touch them while she had plentiful fresh food, and with a hot meal in her belly, she laid down to sleep, clutching her katana and hoping against all hope that her Mother and Brothers would show up.
Over the next three days, she spent her time in the entrance hallway listening to music on her Zune, polishing her sword, practicing her martial arts and swordplay in the spacious cafeteria. When she got sweaty, she stripped and boiled water in one of the big kitchen pots, and with dish soap, washed herself and her clothes with hot soapy water. She explored when she got bored, finding art supplies in the art teachers room, and she painted on the halls of the school. She painted tips on the doors, noting what supplies she could find inside, making colored marks to note safe hiding spots, or quick escapes just in case someone managed to force their way into the school. And sure enough, after thirty six hours, the power cut out, and she would make daily trips to the generator to make sure it was topped off. To save power, she made sure all the lights in the school were off, all the breakers flipped to the off position except for the cafeteria. But as she waited by the entrance, listening for sounds of her family, her hope began to dwindle and fade, until it seemed like there would be no one coming for her. Apart from the things that could be heard moaning and shuffling along outside in the high school grounds, Abigail was truly alone.
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