28 HOURS LATER

Hecatoncheires

un jour je serai de retour près de toi
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[size=+2]"It started as rioting. But right from the beginning you knew this was different. Because it was happening in small villages, market towns. And then it wasn't on the TV any more. It was in the street outside. It was coming in through your windows. It was a virus. An infection. You didn't need a doctor to tell you that. It was the blood. It was something in the blood. By the time they tried to evacuate the cities it was already too late. Army blockades were overrun.

And that's when the exodus started."

- Selena, '28 Days Later'[/size]

Something is spreading.

Something in the blood.

All it takes is a cut, a scratch, a bit of infected blood on an open wound. Then you are gone, lost to mindless fury and sadistic rage as you suddenly attempt to murder anyone and everyone around you. You'll strangle your partner, murder your children, beat your best friend to death with your bare hands.

Britain is being overrun.

The numbers of the infected swell in the day since the infection began, seeping across the country at an unprecedented rate. The hastily-assembled blockades are being overrun. The violence is spreading to the towns and cities.

The town of Mistvale shall be one of the first to fall.

And the only thing left to do will be to run or hide.

These are the final days of Great Britain.​

  • This RP is set in the fictional British town of Mistvale, just over 24 hours after the Rage virus was released; keep this in mind with your characters
  • One character per person, please
  • Try and keep up with the direction the game is being taken in by the GM/don't be a game-breaking fucktard
  • This is a gritty horror story about the death of civilisation and the struggle for survival, not a zombie shoot 'em up; taking on the Infected is likely to get you killed
  • These aren't slow, lurching zombies; these are fast, enraged freaks hell-bent on killing anyone who gets in their path
  • This is set in the UK, so firearms are prohibited without GM-approval, and anyone who's somehow packing an assault rifle with reflex sights and enough ammunition to kill an army will be fed to the Infected
  • Have fun, help craft a cool story

TL;DR? [size=+3]NO GUNS, YOU FUCKS. >:[[/size]

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Rural, isolated and agriculturally-focused, Mistvale is the epitome of the small English town. It's population peaks at just over 2500, making it one of the tiniest in the district.

Serving as the hub for many of the farms and isolated homes in the surrounding area, Mistvale has several churches attended by locals and nearby residents, including the Church of England and the Jehovah's Witnesses. Recent developments have also led to a supermarket being erected on the outskirts of town, which draws many customers from the outlying area but also the ire of many locals who believe the store is stealing away local business. Several pubs and bars also dominate Mistvale's high street, from the traditional 'Mistvale Inn' to the more modern (and slightly dodgy) 'Roxy'.
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[size=+4]DAY 2 - SPREAD[/size]​

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[size=+3]MISTVALE, SOMERSET, 8:34PM
28 HOURS AFTER FIRST INFECTION[/size]​

I can hear their screeches in the distance as I sprint through the streets of Mistvale.

No person would make such a guttural roar. It's a scream of rage, emitted by something that is no longer human.

I'm running for my life down streets I was walking to work along just a day ago, my suit in tatters and a bloody claw-hammer clutched in my hand. Running for my life from things I don't understand, enraged beasts with the faces of the men and women I worked alongside, moved past on my way around town, sat with on the subway.

All around me rings the sounds of Mistvale dying; the smell of acrid smoke fills my nostrils and in the distance I can hear the cries of residents caught in the same struggle as me. Two hours ago it was just another evening, and now we find ourselves fighting for our lives. And amidst it all are their screams, their roars. They're getting closer.

I need to get inside. Off the streets and out of sight.

Away from them.

Up ahead I spot a possible escape; one of the pubs, 'The Mistvale Inn', it's doors hanging slightly open. My lungs are already burning from my race through the streets, but I give what little I have left in a final dash towards the door. Staggering to a halt and grabbing the handle I swing myself around, chest heaving in air as I stare around the street desperately for signs of others trying to escape the residents of Mistvale who have lost their minds.

And if I see any of them, I'm ready to slam the door and run for safety.[/size]
 
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DAY 2 8:36pm Mistvale in

I remembered when it happened. Marshall law took over. And then something took that over. That's when it became every man for himself. I ran this pub for 15 years still had plenty booze but not much food stored up here . I have a hunting knife but I'm not sure about using it these...things were human infected the chances are u just don't want them near you. I saw my neighbors tear each other apart so I think staying here is safer then the streets. I reached under the bar and withdrew a few boards, nails and a hammer. we weregoing to remodel, so its a good thing this stuff was left behind. might make this place safer. As I approached the window I noticed the door open and man running towards me. " get inside stranger!" I shouted.
 
It was because of her Mum's urging that Katrina found herself inside the pub, teddy bear in hand. She and her mother had barricaded themselves in their home when the virus hit, propping their chairs and tables against the door and windows. It didn't prove to be enough. When the evening hit, the zombified humans were pounding upon the door and breaking through the windows. Katrina's mother carried her child to the basement, and instructed her to find some place safe. She gave her daughter a wet kiss, shoved Katrina's stuffed animal into her arms, and upon opening the basement doors, told her to run.

Katrina made herself not look back as her little legs took her through the town. She spotted an empty looking pub and a normal looking human keeping the door open. Her legs were burning and her brain told her not to enter, but she was getting desperate. There was something in that man's posture and demeanor that told her she would be safe.

She sprinted inside, and hid in a dark corner of the room and waited. Her face was damp with sweat and tears, her legs and teddy bear were covered in dirt and while her body temperature was soaring, Katrina could not stop shivering. This was a little girl in shock.
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He held her at arm's length, both hands around her throat.

She clawed. She spat. Anything she could.

But he was stronger.

Their footing slipped. Her weight pitched. Through darkness they crashed against shelves and curtains, old furniture choked by dust.

All she could do was snarl. Her eyes were red...


...with tears.


He pinned her to the wall. And from deep within, where it had slumbered so long, words were given to his rage.


"TELL ME.... HER NAME!"


She would not. She never would. He knew this before he came here.


She wasn't clawing anymore. Her hands gripped weakly at his own. Her eyes sunk to deeper red. Spittle ran down her chin. The snarls grew softer.

Then she fell.


And as one who has vanquished the decade demons, the slow-shuffling parade of regrets and frustrations, the cancerous heart from which all infection springs, he dropped too.

Against the wall, head in hands, blood on shirt. Breathing, only breathing - the new life that followed hatred's end. A reanimation, slow and agonising, leaving but the primal brain and its echoing, resonating question:

What now?

After the world within has ended.... what now?



It was not the noise that roused him - not the panting, slavering din of the Infected that assailed the house.

It was the breeze... damp and chilling... that came from the open basement doors.



Curtis Raines stood up, stepped over the woman's body, and continued his search.
 
[size=+1] The pub's not empty, the damn place still being staffed by the landlord. I recognise his face as I swing around briefly to face the source of the voice, having come in a few times since I moved to this town; youngish guy, apparently he's been running this place a while. Guess they start publicans young in Mistvale. There's a mean-looking blade on his belt, however, which is a rare reassurance amidst this chaos.

"Hold on a minute!" I call over to him, "There could still be others out--" As if on-cue, a small form comes hurtling through the doorway and darted into one of the gloomy corners of the room. A little girl, no more than ten if I had to guess, covered in dirt and shivering furiously.

That parental instinct kicks in almost immediately. "Watch the door a minute!" I shout over to the landlord as I stride over towards the dark corner the girl has hidden herself in. Reaching her, I kneel down next to her, reducing the chance of my height scaring her further. I keep my voice as calm as I can, given the circumstances, and do my best to flash a smile. "Hey there. I'm Peter."

There are more pressing issues coming our way, but I can't let this girl just panic in the corner.

Cat always said I was good with kids, after all.[/size]
 
A little girl, shit, cant be more then ten goes darting through the doorway while the blonde fella looks like he might need to catch a breath. She's all alone, out here? End of the world or mighty damn close to it. The man upon closer inspection looks like I might have seen him before. Not a regular but a walk in from time to time. I take one last look outside, seeing no one, I close the door and lock up tight. I leave the open sign on. I found in times of struggle people turn to things familiar maybe someone in need will get the hint.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When bad things happen, they always hit fast. No one saw this coming. how long will this continue? i consider turning on the tele, perhaps after these two are settled. I let out a long breath. The man, Peter, I believe it was what he said to the frightened girl seems to be trying to help her. She looks pale. " let me get you two something." Going behind the bar I pour a simple fountain cola. Walking over, I kneel next to Peter drinks extended. " here it'll help take the edge off. My names Richard."
 
I was huddled up in a building watching the stairs to see if another one of those... I don't know what you would call them... crazed people maybe, would try and run up the stair case. So far I had been lucky, one or two that I managed to take down with my steal bat. It wasn't easy but I managed to handle it. I quickly peer out the window and see a man walking down the street. He looked completely dazed, bloody, his hands were quivering. He must have had a hard fight... All of a sudden I see one of those things running at him full speed, it was screaming something horrible. "Behind you!" I yelled out the window and hit my hands against the frame as I yelled. Quickly I grabbed my bat and ran out to help it, by the time I got there he was already on the ground being mauled. I didn't know what to do, but I guess I did because I waked it off him then started to beet it into the ground before it could get up. By this time I was breathing heavy, and my arms were sore. It wasn't as easy as the movies had made it out to be. I turned around to see he was turning into one of them too. I wouldn't beable to take on another one, I knew that for sure.

As I looked around running from the man I had just tried to save I could see an pub. I had been there before, it was my first job and they had the open sign still up. I figured it was better then testing my luck outside. I ran up to the door and knocked on the door "Anyone in here?!" I shouted looking over my shoulder. I had no idea how long it would take for him to completely change. He was flailing himself on the ground holding his head, he was going insane as the infection was taking place. I hit the door again "Please, is there anyone there!" I was about to give up, find another area and give up on finding survivors, I wasn't about to stand here waiting for something that wasn't there.



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She's like a deer in headlights, this little girl. Katrina pushes herself further against the corner, clutching her teddy bear so hard that if the thing were alive it'd be suffocating. Her eyes are locked onto Peter, assessing him, making sure that he wasn't going to suddenly change into those horrible creatures. Cautiously she takes his hand and he can feel how cold she is. Her grip is tight and strong upon his fingers. This man is her rock, her anchor in this god forsake place. She's without her mother or father after all.

"... I'm Katrina."

Her eyes follow Richard behind the Bar, scooting herself closer to Peter. She wanted to be hugged and told that everything will be alright, but strangers don't give each other hugs and she had a feeling that things wouldn't be alright for a very long time. However when the landlord offered her the soft drink, the gesture undid her. Katrina pressed her head against Peter's coat, sobbing uncontrollably. In between the heaves of tears, Katrina tried to tell them what happened.

"M-My mum... Our house, I-I had to r-r-run. She s-s-stayed.I don't want her to die! Please don't let me die!"
 
I couldn't stand it. Was that one going to stand outside the pub and bang all night? Leaning out of the only second story window I whispered as loudly as I could to be heard across the street, " Hey fucker stop that banging, or you'll bring more."

I glanced down to the steps descending from my front door to the sidewalk. Those once stone grey steps were now coloured with my wife's blood, still glistening in the street lamp's light. The threat of tears began to sting my eyes and throat when I noticed the man on the ground outside. His spasms chilled me to the bone. Despite my better judgement, i just couldn't leave that one waiting outside the pub. Not with that spaz about to get up and kill him.

"Oh get over here. Knock twice and I'll unlock the door." I really hoped he had heard me. Two deaths were enough for me to see in one day.
 

Even though it was daylight it still looked like the depths of a deep dark hell to me.

The mono-toned high piched hum of tv warning system was a faint memory now even though it happened not to long ago. The carnage that awaited after was nothing compared to what her mind dreaded when hearing that sound. She would gladly take that sound back and replaced it from the new sounds and sights around her. Never ending screams with only short breaths inbetween from shock an pain. Brutaly being ripped apart flesh from bone. Others more of a sickning gurgling as blood would come from their throats. Her eyes stung as they never blinked and tears flowed. Partly because of shock and horror but mostly because she was to frightened to blink. If she did she wouldn't not see if one was coming after her and she would be apart of the piles of dead flesh that litered the streets. Her lungs hurt as if everytime she exhailed, knives would stab them all over. She looked to her right and seen a couples of girls grab a hold of a door and franticaly tried to open it as a 'deamon' in human form came from behind them. They saw but except for running they clung to the unopening door as if in a small hope it would save them. She knew as she doged down the street that their screams would join in chours with the others she had passed along the way. Watching the people around her killed left and right. Unable to stop it. To do nothing but run and survive this hell what ever it was. She to wanted to scream. Scream for help, but what matter of miracle could protect her from this? No place was safe......everything was ingulfed in maddness.....
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Of all things abiding, none is greater than this: that the mind finds sense in the deepest absurdity.


Was Curtis Raines to think this an outbreak, an infection of biology, a mass hysteria of cryptic suggestion? Was he to think that terrorists had viral-struck, or that the sun had washed the world in radiation? Or was he to think, instead, as simply as the guilty do, that he was now in the midst of his own manifest and demonic pantheon?

For as long as it takes to kill a man, he stood in the back garden of the woman's home, hands still curled in the death-grip he had wrought. Rain was falling, and behind the fences and brick alleys the carnage played. Blood spatters, snarls, choking coughs of neither dead nor dying. What was happening here?

How callously he had dismissed the artists who spoke of this. One little murder... one little prick upon the conscience... one little deed.... and now all the world had slumped... jarred into a hellscape mirror.

He dropped to his knees on the grass, choking hands running through his hair. The adrenaline left him. He vomitted. The last bile. The weight of all he had shared... with her....

And here they would have found him. Here the Infected would have sniffed him out and ripped him apart.... were it not that he heard the voices just then.


"Anyone in here?! Please, is there anyone there!"

"Hey fucker stop that banging, or you'll bring more."

"Oh get over here. Knock twice and I'll unlock the door."


Footprints in the garden mud. Small. A girl's.

She was still here.


Curtis lunged to his feet, crossing the garden in seven steps, jumping, grabbing, clambering. With grunts and angry snarls he scaled the wooden fence and tumbled over the top, falling into the street beyond.


He landed between the pub and the house where the man was calling from the second floor.
 
The little girl burst into tears, that wasn't my intention. " I don't know where your parents are." I said to the girl softly looking at the other man briefly. It sounded pretty bad though. Then again what wasn't nowadays? " if they are out there, we will find the time to look got them. In the mean time let's not make any noise to attract-" a banging on the door. Was it them? Those creatures, was our peace already under attack. " let me in." Came a voice, and I breathed a sigh if relief. Fumbling for the keys in my pocket I stood up. Normally you open a door from the outside, but I had a small pull iron fence invade people tried to break in. It was old now, it wouldn't stop them. Every second counted and it would buy us sometime. Call me paranoid, theft was rare but I protected what was mine.

Walking over I released the gate and did a quick check outside before opening the door. " get in here and keep quiet. No telling how many of them were alerted by that. We have a little girl, gone through hell, so don't scare her." I kept in eye out for them. Either he was coming in or he was staying out, but this doors not staying open for long.
 
I looked back hearing someone yelling from a window, I was about to run over to him when a man fell from a high wooden fence. As I made sense of what just happened the door to the pub opened. I looked frantically around as the owner told me "Get in here and keep quiet. No telling how many of them were alerted by that." I stopped listening as the man I had tried to save started to stand. He was changed and heading for the one that fell from the fence. I slammed my bat into the... thing, and picked up the man, as it got back up again. I ran with the man on my back to the pub. Not like I had a choice, the thing blocked my path to the other building. It was gaining on me fast so I threw whoever it was on my shoulders off my back at the door and I turned to try and fend the thing off. Thoughts went through my head, things that I never would have expected to come to me 'leave him. Survival of the fittest, let him be the bait, the week that dies. Save yourself... there's no telling how long the pub owner would keep the door open.' I had to shake the thoughts, it wasn't right. This man had just as much of a right to live as I did. "Just take him inside." Was all I managed to say as I hit the thing again. It was persistent and I was almost at the point of exhaustion. I would hit it only two more times before I saved myself. At least I could say I tried.

As I stood waiting for the thing to attack a third time I could feel my lungs stinging and hear only my heart beat now. My breath was heavy, my hands gripped the handle of my bat and determination was in my eyes. I knew whatever it was wouldn't care. It wasn't human anymore... I was fighting a beast of death and that was it. Sweet fell down from my forehead and dripped off my chin. I would never be able to kill this one. Only run and hope someone else could.
 
He had landed hard on the pavement.

He had been picked up, dragged, carried.

Then he had been dropped again.

His senses swirled. But through it all one thing remained clear, like thunder breaking through the hardest storm.

What the landlord had said.



Reanimation of the most violent, insistent kind, then seized him.

Curtis lunged up from where the man had dropped him, ignoring the duel of saviour and beast. He swept his arm out, its full length slamming into Richard, knocking him against the doorframe and back inside the pub.

The way was clear.


With a snarl Curtis ran, full speed, straight into the pub, knocking chairs and tables aside, stumbling, grabbing, eyes-wide.

He was hunting.


"WHEEEEERE!"


He charged straight for Peter.
 
I could barely feel my legs as the muscles all over my body started to scream. 'How long have I been running? Why am i not waking from this dream?'..... As if by a small comfort this rein of terror was just merely that. The sky had opened up now as if the angles themselves were crying at the massacre that laid before their feet. She was freaking out now. She had to constantly wipe her eyes and the hair from her face to get a clear view. She bit her lip stopping and skidding a little on the lose gravel barely catching herself from falling face first as she saw the road she was going to turn down, covered with mutilated bodies and the on-coming onslaught. She covered her mouth and almost pukes seeing the severed head of a young girl not but five. One of the daemons was holding it possessively, chewing on the sides of the ear. The sounds of 'real' human noises jerked her head behind her seeing a small display of a stand off. Her eyes wide with a small relief seeing the open doorway just behind the man. She grew sick seeing that even though there was a haven to run, there was still a monster in between it. It was a chance she had to take. She looked around franticly and saw a car not but 200ft from her still running with the wiper blades and headlights on but not moving. She dashed for it climbing over debre and keeping her footing over the mangled she had to step on. She got to the car as her hand nearly slipped on the handle swinging it open and jumping inside. The sound out side was muffled now and the rain on the car was heard louder than the chaos outside. For a split moment her body relaxed as it was safe in the dry car, but only for a moment as her muscles stiffened to light music coming from the radio of Hotel California. A little messed up at a time like this. She pushed down on the break putting it in drive. Looking at her target intently she stepped hard on the gas feeling the back of the car sway a little from the low traction on the slick road but gained the grip back. It was a little hard to see but she veered a bit more to her left as to not hit the man gripping the bat and plunged right into the thing as it bounced on her windshield cracking it and the small bounce she felt from it on the roof. She screamed when it hit the wind shield. She new what might happen yet the thought of it breaking all the way through and tearing her apart never crossed her mind till then. She stomped on the breaks hard skidding a few feet . She didn't bother putting it in park. She opened the door and ran out towards the man and the open door as the car started to drive on its own down into a small store just across the street.
 
It was all happening so quickly. A man jumped over, or perhaps fell off of, a fence. The pub door opened again, and the one with the bat attempted to help the fallen man. Suddenly that spaz on the floor wasn't on the floor, then it was on a car. The speed of the events took my breath and got my heart racing.

"Shit." was all I could think to say. It was almost all I ever had to say in my old social life. The life that was probably never to return to me. Now that this... This series of events... This outbreak, was going on I couldn't think of a better word to describe the situation.

Then I did something crazy. I ran to the dining room, broke my wife's favourite chair, and armed myself with two of it's sturdy wooden legs. Then, I unlocked the front the door and stepped outside into what what would surely result in my death.
 
Just as the thing was going to try and kill me again some girl drove a car into it and it bounced off the hood, hit the windshield, and flew over the roof, landing on the ground behind it. "Fuck..." he said under his heavy breathing. "You ok?" he said just before he ran over to her. She had been cut from the shards of glass, he supported her under her arm, though she seemed ok, he still didnt want her to overdo it after such an incident.

As he started to walk her to the pub he noticed another man getting out from his home with two wood rods in his hands, atleast if something attacked they had someone to hopefully cover them. He looked over at the girl quickly making sure she was still awake then walked her inside as he let go of her and rested his bat on he shoulder. He looked around at all the faces.
 
My blood was flowing like it hadn't in hours, and there was a whine in my ears. I rushed out the door so fast that I slipped in my own wife's blood. Not really my wife, our great Kingdom labeled us a civil partnership but a legal term could not stop us from loving eachother. The slip sent my head flying towards the pavement.

I blacked out in my first few moments outside of my house. How pathetic.
 
Shaking like a leaf I had gripped on to the man as he came and helped me. I could see his mouth move but I could hear no sound. I'm sure it was a question of reassurance so all I could think of to do was nod. It was a miracle that thing didn't get inside the car. My legs were wobbly as he helped he up the steps to the pub just thinking on the scene of what would happen it it went terribly wrong. She would have been trapped in the car, unable to move. Pinned down and ripped apart. Bitten a scratched to the bone. She felt the man let go of her as she walked only a few steps before falling to her knees gripping a small wooden column next to the bar. She heard other voices to. A soft crying of a young girl in the distance. Looking up she could say that it almost looked like the chaos had swelled up in the pub at some point as everything was in shambles. Tipped over chairs and tables with a few broken glasses on the floor as some where knocked over and the smell of beer wafted her senses.