- Pronouns
- He/Him
CatalysTftw
Good
[this probably won't be good]
He stood on the hill side, amongst the ashes. A tree had sprouted behind him; no doubt it would die soon. He was as still as a statue as he remained facing south. Waiting. There where rustles behind him but they were of no matter. They would not take him before it happened. A screech, they were getting closer. He was taken out of his trance as a plane flew over head. Something dropped from it and the wrath of God was unleashed.
He woke with his breath hitching in his chest. The fire had gone out but no matter. He wouldn’t sleep again tonight. He was almost calm when he heard a clicking noise. He slowly reached to his knife and waited. Through the hole in the roof, he could still see the moon. It came up the stairs and approached him. It had blue eyes that had a fierce luminosity, like the others and he could see it’s teeth with the light of the moon. The clicking intensified and suddenly, it leapt for him with a screech. He was expecting this and at the last possible second, he made a punching motion with the knife, driving it into the things throat. It went limp but landed on top of him. He groaned and shoved it off of him.
That thing was one of the infected. They had a thirst for blood and, for the most part, where photophobic. They started out as a bio-weapon in some country ending in “stan”. It spread quickly, so quickly that no-one knew much about the infected other than they where vampires, for want of a better term, and that they could be killed by severing the spinal cord or beheading. It was believed in the early days that the bio-weapon changed their biology. Most infected couldn’t be determined by sex so someone had to be right.
He rose when the sky was getting bright to get his weapons together. A pistol went into his bag, a rifle over his shoulder, the walking stick he whittled into a spear he kept in his hands at all times and his knife went into his belt. The guns and knife he had taken off a dead shoulder, along with the bag and some warm clothes. He rationed it that seeing as the soldier seemed to have “checked himself out” as it was called in the early days, people where entitled to the dead man’s things. Before he left, he doused the thing’s body with petrol he had siphoned and threw a match on it. Then he picked his way out of the shell of a building.
The town he was in showed some obvious signs of fighting. Bullet holes and occasionally a trail of dry blood as if someone was dragged. He had no way of telling how long ago they where, not even knowing how long he had survived. He figured it was about two months since law and order broke out, maybe a month and a half since the infected to human ratio went over 2 to 1. He left the town quickly and started walking on a motorway. He was heading west. He had heard that Achill was safe so he felt an urge to check.
He found a motorbike later on and decided to ride it while the sun was till high. He only seen one wanderer, that is, an infected without the photosensitivity, but quickly outdistanced it He got to Clew Bay before the motorbike died on him. He got near to the island before the sun got low. He sheltered in what seemed to be a pub and lit a fire. Most of the pub looked burned so he didn’t expect it to catch. They stayed away from fire but he fed the flames more than usual, after the night before.
He rose the next day and made it to the island. He saw nothing, not even the “pods” that the infected slept in within darkened areas. He was walking down a road when there was a crack and the ground in front of him shot dust. He jumped behind a car wreck, still with a few bones around it and waited. Eventually the shooter came out and asked his business. He stated what he had heard and the shooter chuckled and nudged him along.
He was brought to a town encircled by gates. The guards of the town took his weapons and led him inside. He had been in the town before with his family but shut off that thought before it could develop. Eventually they reached a market square and as he entered there was another crack, not that he could hear it. He was dead before he hit the ground. One of the guards chuckled but the leader shut him up with “take the bag and search him” before lighting a cigarette. After the guard searched the man, the leader doused the man in petrol and once he had smoked his fill, threw the rest of the cigarette onto the man, igniting him instantly.
He stood on the hill side, amongst the ashes. A tree had sprouted behind him; no doubt it would die soon. He was as still as a statue as he remained facing south. Waiting. There where rustles behind him but they were of no matter. They would not take him before it happened. A screech, they were getting closer. He was taken out of his trance as a plane flew over head. Something dropped from it and the wrath of God was unleashed.
He woke with his breath hitching in his chest. The fire had gone out but no matter. He wouldn’t sleep again tonight. He was almost calm when he heard a clicking noise. He slowly reached to his knife and waited. Through the hole in the roof, he could still see the moon. It came up the stairs and approached him. It had blue eyes that had a fierce luminosity, like the others and he could see it’s teeth with the light of the moon. The clicking intensified and suddenly, it leapt for him with a screech. He was expecting this and at the last possible second, he made a punching motion with the knife, driving it into the things throat. It went limp but landed on top of him. He groaned and shoved it off of him.
That thing was one of the infected. They had a thirst for blood and, for the most part, where photophobic. They started out as a bio-weapon in some country ending in “stan”. It spread quickly, so quickly that no-one knew much about the infected other than they where vampires, for want of a better term, and that they could be killed by severing the spinal cord or beheading. It was believed in the early days that the bio-weapon changed their biology. Most infected couldn’t be determined by sex so someone had to be right.
He rose when the sky was getting bright to get his weapons together. A pistol went into his bag, a rifle over his shoulder, the walking stick he whittled into a spear he kept in his hands at all times and his knife went into his belt. The guns and knife he had taken off a dead shoulder, along with the bag and some warm clothes. He rationed it that seeing as the soldier seemed to have “checked himself out” as it was called in the early days, people where entitled to the dead man’s things. Before he left, he doused the thing’s body with petrol he had siphoned and threw a match on it. Then he picked his way out of the shell of a building.
The town he was in showed some obvious signs of fighting. Bullet holes and occasionally a trail of dry blood as if someone was dragged. He had no way of telling how long ago they where, not even knowing how long he had survived. He figured it was about two months since law and order broke out, maybe a month and a half since the infected to human ratio went over 2 to 1. He left the town quickly and started walking on a motorway. He was heading west. He had heard that Achill was safe so he felt an urge to check.
He found a motorbike later on and decided to ride it while the sun was till high. He only seen one wanderer, that is, an infected without the photosensitivity, but quickly outdistanced it He got to Clew Bay before the motorbike died on him. He got near to the island before the sun got low. He sheltered in what seemed to be a pub and lit a fire. Most of the pub looked burned so he didn’t expect it to catch. They stayed away from fire but he fed the flames more than usual, after the night before.
He rose the next day and made it to the island. He saw nothing, not even the “pods” that the infected slept in within darkened areas. He was walking down a road when there was a crack and the ground in front of him shot dust. He jumped behind a car wreck, still with a few bones around it and waited. Eventually the shooter came out and asked his business. He stated what he had heard and the shooter chuckled and nudged him along.
He was brought to a town encircled by gates. The guards of the town took his weapons and led him inside. He had been in the town before with his family but shut off that thought before it could develop. Eventually they reached a market square and as he entered there was another crack, not that he could hear it. He was dead before he hit the ground. One of the guards chuckled but the leader shut him up with “take the bag and search him” before lighting a cigarette. After the guard searched the man, the leader doused the man in petrol and once he had smoked his fill, threw the rest of the cigarette onto the man, igniting him instantly.
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