Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Rainy, Aug 16, 2014.

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  1. Cole sat on the ground next to his dead roommate, staring down at his white, blood-splattered face. His eyes stared empty and open at the ceiling as if searching for an answer. An answer to the question that was overtaking Cole's mind. Why? He sat shaking, his hands covering his ears. All of the screams had died down but he kept his hands over his ears as if it would protect him from what had happened. The two boys were just playing video games together when Dodger suddenly heaved violently, blood spewing from his mouth and nose. He screamed in anguish, coughing to clear the blood and stomach acid from his throat. "Fuck! Help!" He had screamed, his eyes pleading Cole to do something, but Cole had frozen in fear, eyes wide as Dodger fell to the ground and completely crumpled, as if a giant had squashed him with a massive boot.
    And then he had died. The last tears slid from his eyes, clearing a trail across his bloodied cheek, before he grew still. Cole had merely slumped to the ground, too shocked to do anything. Finally, after an hour of hearing his neighbors screaming as they too suffered the same fate, he took his hands off of his ears. Car alarms were going off by the dozen, and it sounded as though every dog were being kicked over and over again. He sat still, absorbing the aftermath of this sudden confusing disaster. With a shaky hand he closed Dodger's eyes, trying not to vomit when he felt the slimy, cold texture of his skin.
    Slowly Cole moved to the window. Cars were on fire and smoking, having smashed into each other and flung their passengers head-first out of the car. The sickness had caused the crash, but the crash had ultimately caused the death. A pleasant one, compared to vomiting up their stomachs. For how much chaos had ensued, the world was surprisingly still. Probably due to the fact that everyone was dead. No one alive to scream and cry for help, no one alive to loot the nearby stores and take shelter against police.
    Cole slowly absorbed these facts, not yet questioning the fact that he was still alive. When he turned around he heard the familiar tune that played when you lose the video game, and the screen flashed with a bloody 'YOU DIED'.

    Across town, Emma had both hands on the wheel and her foot heavy on the gas. She sped around the corners in her neighborhood, her eyes red and tearing. Systematically wiping them away when her eyesight got too blurry, she drove with a stiff upper lip but a wobbly, sniveling bottom one. Her blue eyes were surrounded by running mascara and her hair was crisping at the ends with blood.
    She had woken up and started her daily routine. Makeup, food, clothes, out the door. Having finished makeup peacefully in her room, she walked out to the kitchen for food, like always. Strangely, no one was there. Her dad usually always drank his coffee and read the paper while she ate. Frowning, Emma spotted a small package on the counter and quickly forgot about her missing father. Her face lit up with the joy of receiving material items.
    She skimmed the note before tossing it over her shoulder and snatching the pink box. The greedy girl tore it open to find a small, strange item inside. It was made of beautiful marble with a small 'E' in gold leafing on the handle. Emma grinned as she pushed the small button with her thumb and a sharp, shiny blade snapped out with a quiet 'fwip'. "Thank you, Daddy, thank you, thank you!" Emma called to wherever he was, her voice squealing with excitement. She had convinced her father to buy her a protective weapon for when she was walking alone. He suggested pepper spray, but she suggested a spring-loaded knife. Of course, she got her way. Emma pocketed the blade in her purple pajama pants before running down the long, high hallway of their expensive home. "Dad-" Emma slapped the door open and was rewarded with an ugly sight. Her parents lay in bed, the covers rumpled and stained with dark, dried blood. Her parents were clearly dead, their eyes dry and mouths hanging open.
    The next few minutes were filled with ear-piercing screeching and multiple calls to 911, which went unanswered. When she realized no one would help, Emma had but one choice. Her reject, dropout brother. And that's where she was headed now.
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  2. Quiet.
    It was all so quiet.
    As if the world had wound in some eternal, national pause. It was still, and where the silence should have been peaceful, a great - great blessing. A blessing that many of them must have been chanting, praying for, ears covered, head tucked into their knees. Just wanting it all to be over. Well, now it was. The screaming, blood-chilling and shrill, deep and dying, panicked and pleading. All meshing into one disgusting, horrifying, forlorn chorus of tragedy.

    Ernest's ears were still ringing. His expression, readable. But not quite pleasant. Pale, even paler then he'd always been. As he stayed right where he was. Frozen, captured in time, a prisoner to the shock. The realization that he wanted to deny, deny, deny. Ears ringing with screams, that belonged to a similar voice. He knew it all too well, the voice of his Father. No, even worse...any chance of security that he could have ever been given without a price. "...Oh god...D...Dad....Dad? C...Come on. Say something. W...We were talking. We w...were working something out. Remember? I...I," Ernest hadn't even realized that he'd started to tremble. A laugh in his voice, even when no punchline was told. Weakness. Feeling numb, yet feeling everything at once. Standing in the front hallway of his, their , home. The phone connected to the wall, held to his ear. With a trembling, sleeve dipped hand. Other timidly entwined and twirled with the cord that connected it to the phone. Shocked eyes staring off to the side, off at the phone. Dilated and small trembling irises and pupils. Ernest's mouth was open, lip shaking. But he couldn't manage to say anything. His mouth was dry , he felt dead.

    And for all the wrong reasons...The memory still held so recent and fresh in his memory. A mocking, a cinematic dramatization that wouldn't stop replaying in his mind no matter how much he pleaded under his breath with the air that had long since left his lungs for it to just stop. He had been beg for his father to return to him.

    "Dad. Please. I can't do this anymore...I, I can't be alone. This is awful -- Please listen to me Dad, I'm your son! Please don't abandon me! Please, I need you - I'll die without you, I'll die I'll die I'll die --"

    Nothing his father tried to get across over the phone registered with Ernest. No angry outburst, or deep roar of frustration. A voice that was cruel, that kept telling him to 'Pull yourself together! You're a damn shame! I can't take care of ya' anymore, Ernest! Ya' need to--' He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear any of it. It was a poison, it was a venomous truth that filled him with despair and desperation, but never quite clicked. Gasping with short breaths on the phone, to breathe once more, only to plead all over again. 'Take care of yourself, Ernest.' He can't. He'll die if he does that. He can't do it. He'll die and no one will miss him because the only family he's ever had turned his back on him and his eyes are welling with tears. Knees shaking, the support they held dwindling. And Ernest manages one more broken, soft cry.

    "...Dad. Please."
    '...You take care of yourself. Alright?----"

    And that was when it had happened. A scream on the other line, sudden and sharp. Like a thrust of the blade that might as well have killed his Father. A scream he's never heard his father scream before. No anger, no temper. Only agony. Horrid agony that Ernest has never felt in his life, but this would stick with him for the rest of it. A shadow that would never leave him. All he could do, on his line of the phone, was stand there. Stand there and look frightened, stand there looking quiet. Stand there looking useless. Mouth open, as if he'd been cut off.

    Just like the line had just been. A dial tone, that he has heard many times before. Calls to his Father gone amiss. But this one was different...This one, would be the last.

    Suddenly, time fell back into motion. Albeit slowly. Fingers, delayed and trembling. Rise up to the numbered buttons of his house phone. 9...1...1. He had to hold the phone with two hands. One to hold it, the other to keep it steady. He waited moments, and only that...Before the cold that had taken his body, roared with heat. With panic. "Help me, please help me!!! Please, just help me I - My father, he's , he's !!! I'm scared, I'm so scared, please help me-" Voice steadily rising in volume as hysteria took it's toll on him. Soon, he was screaming. Voice straining at the line that was left unanswered. His pleas were left unanswered once again.

    Even his vision began to play tricks on him. The buzzing had stopped, but something worse replaced it. Voices, all voices he knew. But none of them said anything. He could hear them in his head but what were they saying. They were hushed, silent. As if they were trying to keep a secret from him. It wasn't like he would have been able to hear them anyway. His heart was racing, pounding inside of his chest. Blood pumping to every part of him - especially his ears.

    "Oh God - " He was trying to move. But every few feet he would somehow stumble, light headed. Into the hallway wall, hands held against it for the support that his knees refused to give him, a mantra of 'Oh God,' 'Oh my god,' 'Dad,' 'I'm going to die,' silent on his tongue, pathetic whispers as he stepped too quickly. And fell to his knees. Quite painfully - a strike of pain went through his legs. A pathetic mass of a body. That finally went berserk right then and there. Convulsing and shaking, curling into himself only to uncoil and scream. Hands held to his head. It was almost like a tantrum. He'd started to cry, as well.

    He wasn't sure how long he'd done that for.
    He wasn't sure when he'd pulled himself off of the floor and grabbed his coat, holding it to his chest, because comfort would come from no other place.
    It had all been but a blur of pictures, of his vision blacking out. Of his mind going blank and his body left entirely to his breakdown. His heart, everything, the sounds were in slow motion. Going slower, and slower, just like his heart beat. Still clinging onto that jacket, the fur of the hood tickling against his chin, holding it tight o his chest.
    He wasn't sure when he'd made it to the outside. Where the morning reigned, but provided no warmth.

    "Please help--"

    The second he'd gotten the door open, was the second his air was knocked from him. He hadn't tried to close the door, no. He bolted from the spot, screaming out that one plea...But the Earth, anyone who could help him, was in shambles. A nightmare of itself, that he'd run head first into...No. It was in ruins.

    Cars skidding off of the streets, smoking as if they were about to go up in flames. And oh, they were the lucky ones. On the street way, painted grotesquely with the blood of bodies that he couldn't identify, there were those who crashed. And those cars were on fire. The people inside, made not a sound. Because the dead did not speak. The dead were still...The silence. The painful, agonizing, mournful silence ran endless out here. Crashed windows, more blood. Body upon body, and more blood. He stood frozen once again. Staring out at what the world had become. Numb to the reality of everything he had known. The World was dead.

    And he would be dead soon too.

    "Oh my God..."

    Ernest ran. He ran with every fiber of his being, every damned pathetic string that made up his body but it would do nothing to save the damage done to his mind. He didn't care about the bodies, or the roads. Or the houses, or the cars. As he ran past them. Head down, finally slipping the jacket on, hood pulled down entirely to cover his eyes. Away from the monstrosity fate had brought them all. He didn't care about them. He tripped. Over a dead body. Over a dead body. And fell into another. With a scream that sounded like a yelp. Filled with his tears, that seemed endless.

    Their blood was on him. Staining his jacket, staining his mind. And they reeked of death. Something he hadn't known had it's own scent before. It's own taste. Silent upon falling, but another scream tore through his throat. Breaking the silence that surrounded him. Ear piercing. He felt like his throat was going to bleed. He could see the poor woman's face. Blank, void of the life that had long since left her...Oh God.
    Some of her head was missing. And he could see the pink, soft tissue, of her fucking brain. There was a mess near her head. Directly underneath it, even. A skid of flesh, the dust of her skull that had helped her not, the blood, the tissues of her thought center. An organ that would never function again.
    Ernest threw up. He threw up on her, with a sudden lurch of his stomach, a quiver of his body, a convulsion -

    And then he shoved the body away. Like a frightened child. Screaming again, would he ever stop screaming? On his back, scrambling away with his vision beginning to fade from black to consciousness once more. Crawling, like a worm. In the dirt, in the blood. Screaming his throat raw until he felt himself bump into yet another body. Deceased - but still warm.

    "Help me!!!"

    When had Ernest begun to run once more? Pushing his body to the limit, only to run faster. Covered in dirt, ruined by blood, covered in regret and he repeats to himself, in his mind. Through his pleas for assistance, 'What a pathetic life you live.'

    There was no destination. No direction. He ran as quickly as he could, as if being chased. But the only apprehend-er here today - was his own paranoia.

    I"m going to die. Please, please help me. Somebody...
    #2 Yaki-tan, Aug 16, 2014
    Last edited: Aug 16, 2014
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  3. He was awake, readying himself for work. He had just got out of the shower and walked into the still-dark bedroom, heading over to his wife to give her a kiss for the morning. When his body came in contact with chilled skin, the alarms in his head instantly went off. With a quick flick of the light switch, he saw the sight of sheets and blankets strewn across the bed and to the floor and blood. Just so much blood... His voice was cut off, unable to call out for her. He quickly ran to the bed, doing the first thing he could think of and giving the too far gone woman CPR and trying to call emergency services on the phone. After several minutes of pleading, breathing, and contact, he finally let out a pained cry, like a wounded animal. He moved to the edge of the bed, head in his hands that gripped tightly at the light brown hair on his skull. She was gone... But there was still someone else.

    Upon remembering, he shot up from the bed, rushing out of the room. He ran into the hallway wall at the speed that he was going, stumbled over to the other doorway and looked into the pink themed room, his eyes falling upon the crib in the center. He approached the crib and peeked into it, letting out another pained cry. He reached down, sobbing, and picked up the chilled small body, cradling it close to him and crying over it. He brought it with him back into the bedroom, getting back onto the bed and pulling the body of his wife closer to him and his infant daughter's body. He spent several moments just like this, crying and sobbing. Everything that made his world wonderful had suddenly fallen into an abyss.

    Just last night, he was making plans with his estranged half-brother to bring his family to meet him for the first time and, in return, meet his brother's teenage daughter for the first time, too. He put his daughter to sleep, singing an off-tune lullaby of the Beetle's 'Hey Jude'. Then him and his wife slowly made their way to bed, just to stay up for a bit longer before finally falling asleep. Just last night, everything was normal.

    He finally laid down his daughter next to his wife, slowly making his way off the bed and walking over to the dresser. He had contemplated using the standard issue firearm from his police station to end it all. The pain and suffering that he just started to deal with would end right here. He looked back toward his wife and child and remembered the call he tried making earlier, not getting any response from 911. There was something bigger going on and his curiosity was peaked. He suited up, making sure his badge was showing clearly, his gun and other tools were within reach, and then starting dialing on the phone. He came to his brother's voice-mail and ran a hand through his hair. He peeked out the blinds in the living room, starting to see the grotesque scene that was left for him and the rest of the world that remained.

    "This is Dustin. If you're still in town and if you and your daughter are okay, meet me at the police station by noon. If I don't find you there, I'll go and look for you. Just stay put and I'll be there," he told them, not knowing if either one of them were going to get the message or not.

    He put away his phone and went to the door, soon entering this new world of death. It wasn't so much more different than the world he just left, but the people that littered the streets and such weren't people he knew personally save for the occasional neighbor. He kept control, letting his officer side show with a stern face as he slowly made his way through the bodies, occasionally checking if any had a pulse. He kept going, making his own way to the police station and hoping for the best. Hoping that there are survivors.
  4. “C’est la vie”, say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell!

    If it hadn’t been for Jane’s corpse crumpled over in the shower, water still running and floor dyed with red, it would have been another regular day for Elaine Smith. She’d woken up late as usual to the blaring noise of Jane’s antique turntable, today blasting Chuck Berry’s “You Never Can Tell”. Antique was just a label, Elaine had said. Old didn’t mean better and the occasional squeaks coming from the turntable proved her point. Jane had told her to stuff it and to buy earplugs. What was different today however, was the chorus of the damned joining in the duet. At first Elaine had thought it was a prank or a faulty record – anything but the death cries of everyone she knew. It was a pity that Chuck Berry had drowned out their last words, especially Jane’s. Although the duo had never been close Elaine couldn’t help but feel pity amongst her other emotions – disgust, fear and shock stood out the strongest. She didn’t deserve a messy death like this. Jane was on her way to being a pharmacist, success was in her grasp. To die puking out her guts… Elaine wasn’t sure how to react. Mouth gaping like a fish, she stumbled back across the room to her bed where she promptly collapsed.

    The coolerator was crammed with TV dinners and ginger ale!

    The twenty four year old crawled lifelessly out of bed where she’d flopped back upon to reflect on her choices. One, it was a bad dream. God knew how many nightmares she’d experienced in her life. It seemed ironic; that in the one most filled with death it felt most realistic to her. Two, people were actually dropping dead like flies. But life wasn’t a death metal song – such things were impossible. So it was a dream then. A lucid one at that, something she’d tried to do many times. Elaine’s head hurt. Too many thoughts could do that to a person. There was only one thing left to do then. A trip. Regardless of whether it helped or not, no one could doubt that familiarity was a good thing in times of shock. She shuffled her body over to the cabinet where various plastic baggies lay holding her stash. With her shaking fingers, Elaine dug out a bent metal spoon and a cigarette. With a familiar flick of her thumb, the room soon steadied and the smell of smoke came to comfort her. Next, to get some water. She slouched over to the bathroom and took a deep breath before wrenching the door open. Surely it was all just a dream. Jane would be in there, washing out the last of her shampoo from her long, brunette locks. She’d look up with that half grin, half frown Elaine loved before telling her to get the fuck out. Or perhaps she wouldn’t. After all, Elaine had never dreamed of her roommate.

    But when the sun went down, the rapid tempo of the music fell!

    When she entered the bathroom a small mist had formed from the hot shower water. It reeked of iron and rosemary shampoo. The floor seemed sticky and when Elaine peeked into the shower she saw the same sight from earlier. Even now, with the coagulated blood seeping in around her toes Elaine couldn’t believe it. Smart, strong, beautiful Jane wouldn’t die like this. She knelt on the ground and gently picked up her former roommate’s head and recoiled. This wasn’t Jane. This grey faced monster with skin that looked too tight for her face definitely wasn’t Jane. Blood pumped in her ears, drowning out the gentle ssssh of the shower as she dropped the body with a splash. Elaine clenched a piece of the corpse’s brunette locks before sniffing them – the metallic smell of blood. Not the usual tea tree and rosemary scent it held. Was it a new shampoo? Elaine wouldn’t know, she didn’t have the hair to deserve it. The splattering of the water hitting her spoon snapped her out of her stupor as the Irish girl remembered why she had come. Rising up with bloody knees, Elaine filled her spoon carefully before stepping out again.

    They drove it down New Orleans to celebrate their anniversary!

    Elaine watched the large pinch of brown powder mix in with the water before carefully setting the spoon above a candle. While waiting for the heroin to dissolve she got busy, lighting up another cigarette while scrounging on the floor for a needle. One seemed relatively unused. It’d do. Elaine took a long drag, painting her room with the wispy smoke before drawing the liquid from her spoon into her needle. It wasn’t too long after that Elaine injected it into a vein in her left arm, the various needle tracks showing her veteran status in this affair. “Fuck me… finally.” She tossed the needle away lazily and sat back to enjoy the effects on her addled brain. Seconds, minutes, hours, weeks – they all passed in a blink of an eye. Was it just a dream then?

    Elaine sat up suddenly, the cigarette dropping from her lips. The lit end brushed her leg as it went by, leaving a flash of heat. To Elaine’s sneaking suspicion, this seemed all too real to be a nightmare. She half sprinted, half crawled towards the apartment’s window and wrenched aside the bindings and looked into Hell. The street was a mess of the wreckages of cars and humans, smoke and fire was willowing everywhere and the eerie noise of car alarms filled in nicely for human screams. Elaine took in a deep breath and focused on her hand to calm down. It only served to heighten her panic as her fingers were crystal clear, as if someone had zoomed in on them with a high definition camera. In dreams and nightmares alike, Elaine could never focus on one thing for too long and never had they looked as clear as this. In dreams everything was smoky and blurry. Which meant of course, this was scenario number two. It also signalled her imminent death for all she knew.

    “C’est la vie”, say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell!

    The water now overflowing from the shower began to seep through the crack underneath the door and it swiftly formed a red puddle around Elaine’s feet. She did not move, save for her shoulders which shook out of fear and sorrow. Her own vomit and tears added to the mess on the apartment floor. Her world was a kaleidoscope of confusion, Chuck Berry, blood, the gentle sssh of the shower, Jane, and her own banshee shriek which finally burst out of her chest. Throwing a handheld mirror at the record player to shut it up, Elaine collapsed on her bed for the second time that morning and passed out.
  5. Sympathy, a useless, yet somehow comforting action or feeling. Empathy, everyone was capable of it. can never truly feel it, until you have experienced it, yes? You can have an idea, an understanding of how someone feels -- but you can never fully grasp how they feel. Not until you have experienced something of similar or same loss, hurt, regret.

    Isaac lay in the silent confines of his room, the faint buzzing of the fan at the foot of his bed causing slight comfort from the eerie quietness that continued to prod at him and his thoughts. Normally, this type of thing didn't bother him. He enjoyed the peace and quiet, it helped him sleep at night, gave him peace of mind as he relaxed from a long day. Tonight...was different. The silence making his skin crawl, nearly grinding his teeth each time the fan turned its cool breeze from him and the buzzing died down. ...It was probably just him, after all, why would he need to be on edge? Nothing bad ever happened around here-- Hell, barely anything exciting ever happened. The first interesting event to show around here was the sickness. And that's not exactly something that anyone is happy to welcome into their tribe, homes or lives.

    Closing his eyes in an attempt to shake such thoughts away, he rolled onto his side-- the rustling of the sheets and small creak coming from the bed and floorboards as he did so only causing the eerie feeling of dread to crawl up his spine more as the sounds it made died down, making the room seem quieter then ever. There was no point in thinking about it- nothing that he could do, and staying up all night worrying about it was not the best plan of action. He had things to do tomorrow-- he had to take his sister to school in a few hours, then drag his sorry ass to work. After that he had to run a few errands for one of the more elderly folk around here who asked him very kindly to do so. Considering their internal clock was ticking rather quickly, he couldn't exactly refuse- in fact, it's probably best to get those done as soon as possible. Opening his eyes, he looked over to his clock-- 5:30 AM it read. More then half of the night was already gone as it is. Maybe he should just get up now-- get ready, maybe make something for the family so they don't end up leaving on empty stomachs like the last time everyone was in a rush.

    Just as that thought had found its way into his head, as if on cue, he heard a tiny knock on the door. Propping himself up on his elbows for a moment, he looked at his door-- eyes taking their good old time to adjust to the darkness in front of him. The fan blowing in his face, though refreshing, didn't help his case either. Through his blurred vision, he could make out a small shadow-- feet. Guess the theory it was just apart of his imagination and he could stay in bed was just thrown out the window. Giving a sigh, he tossed his legs over the side of his bed, standing up and slowly making his way to his door.

    Opening it with a yawn, when looking straight ahead-- he was met with nothing. Advert his gaze downwards a bit...and he was met with the sight of a frightened child. A girl. His precious baby sister. Perking a brow at the look of her, he knelt down to the floor to be a bit more at her level. Tilting his head, he looked at her with a type of concern that only a big brother could have.

    "Liu, what are you doing up so late? You should be in bed. Ya know, getting a full nights sleep, growing big and strong?" As he spoke, he waved his hand over top her head with a smirk a few times to further prove his point. "I've heard that each minute of sleep you lose, you lose an inch in height."

    Usually, something like that would cause her to pout at him, puffing her cheeks up in annoyance at her big brother prodding at their height difference, when in reality, he wasn't even that tall himself. But her expression never changed, pure distraught-- even terror, showed on her features, dark brown eyes glazed over, causing them to shimmer a bit more then usually in the natural light of the sunrise shinning through their window at the end of the hallway.

    "I...I heard a scream. It scared me a--and I didn't wanna be alone in my room anymore. It's really dark in there, and I was afraid tha--that whatever made the scream would come and g--get me. Can I sleep with--" Hic. "You, Issy?"

    Halfway through her explanation, Louis started crying. It was still a bit difficult to see, even if it wasnt, it was pretty obvious with the wavering and hiccuping in her voice. Reaching a hand how, he stroked her hair back and out of her face, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

    "My room isn't really the brightest choice in the house either, Liu. Remember how the light bulb in my lamp blew out a few days ago? I haven't had a chance to replace it yet. What about mom and dad, did you ask them if you could sleep with them?"

    "I-" Hic. "-knocked on the door b...but they didn--didn't answer it." Whimper.

    Oh, so that was it? Louis was a tiny girl-- she must not of knocked hard enough to wake them up.

    "...Here, cmon. Let's go wake them up together, yeah?" Seeing Louis giving a nod in agreement, he took his little sisters hand-- and stood up, closing his bedroom door behind him before walking down the hallway to their parents room.

    When reaching it, he gave the door a soft knock. Waiting a few moments for the sound of sheets rustling and annoying grumbles at being woken up so early in the night.


    Waiting a few moments before lifting his hand to knock again, this time, louder. "Mom, dad? Are you awake? Louis needs you right now..."


    "... Liu, stay here, okay? I'm gonna go in and wake them up myself."

    "Okay, don't take too long-- it's really dark out here."

    Taking a moment to ruffle his sisters hair, he smiled down at her before heading into the room himself-- opening the door with a 'creeeeeek', and peaking his head inside. He called out quietly once more.

    "Mom, dad?"


    Usually, Louis and him were never allowed in their parents room. It was like a boundary thing, you know? 'The kids were allowed anywhere else in the house-- except the place they were conceived.' as their father liked to put it.

    Taking a few steps inside, his vision was a bit more clear this time-- due to one of the candles being lite and set on the dresser in front of their bed. The light was dull, but helpful. From first glance-- it looked as if there was some type of...struggle? At second glance, nothing had changed. A look at the clock-- 6:54 AM.


    Taking another step forward, his foot landed in something wet, cold. A type of liquid, for sure. Lifting his foot in disgust to see what it was--...Blood? Eye's following the trail in growing horror, he noticed it was pooling from his parents bed-- dripping from their mouths as they hung over the edges, limp. Bodies pale and, undoubtedly cold...dead. His parents were dead--they were fucking DEAD. And...this wasn't any type of death. It wasn't even a peaceful one, it...was the sickness. This is how every elderly or child infected with it were found at the time of their death. It's said to be incredibly painful-- agonizing. Not a moment of peace until they finally 'let go', as it's been called, and die. But the most terrifying thing about it-- it had founds its way into his home. The disease was here, and he was very much capable of having gotten it after walking in here. Or even worse...Louis.

    Feeling bile rise in his throat, he brought a shaky hand to his mouth-- he felt sick.

    "Issy? Are mommy and daddy awake yet?"

    Quickly snapping himself back to reality, he ran to the door, blocking Louis's path from coming in and gently pushing her back into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

    "Don't go in there."


    "Don't ask questions, we need to go. Go get your shoes on, now."


    "Now Louis!"

    Without another peep of question, Louis ran off to her room-- her bare feet pattering on the hardwood floor as she did so. Isaac instead, headed for his room-- Swinging the door open and quickly getting himself ready. Clothes, belongings-- his head was pounding along with his heart-- and the ringing in his ears wouldn't stop. Halfway through getting himself ready, he wasn't even sure what he was grabbing anymore. God, this was fucked up, this was so fucked up. Stopping for a moment, he just...stared down at his bag. Everything he had carelessly thrown into it.


    Suddenly, he just-- felt angry. How...How could they do this to them? How could his parents just DIE like that, and leave Louis and himself alone, and quite possibly infect them as well. How dare they!? How DARE they!? In his fit of rage, he picked the bag up and threw it across the room-- a loud 'thud' emitting from it as it hit, and another lesser one as it fell to the floor, the containment's it held pouring over the floor. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he hunched over, hands grasping the sides of his head as his body trembled.


    The tiny voice didn't register at first, but when it did, he sat up, gaze darting to the small girl standing in his doorway-- with a look of concern on her face that only a little sister could have. It hit him in that moment. This...wasn't about him. It was about her, Louis. His precious, precious child sister. He...needed to be strong for her-- he needed to protect her. It's his job as the older brother, to protect his sister with his life. Looking away from Louis for a moment, he used his sleeve to wipe at his face, before turning back to her.

    "Hey, Liu. You ready?"


    "Okay, let's get going."

    Standing up, he zipped his grey hoodie, and tossed the hood over his head-- despite the hat he was already wearing. Doing the same to Louis's jacket and hood, he picked her up, holding her close-- about ready to walk about of the house, he stopped for a moment. Slowly turning back to his room. "..." Walking back in, he grabbed the closest thing he could find-- which was his baseball bat, before moving back into the hallway, jogging out of the house. Louis's tiny hands clutching at him with complete trust and faith making his heart clench. Reaching the outside though...was not much better.

    It was chaos, people were screaming as their loved ones dropped dead-- running out of their houses clutching to their cold, limp family members and children, before dropping dead themselves. Some were screaming in agonizing pain, begging for it to end-- for someone to stop it all. To think that, just a few hours ago, this was his tribe. A peaceful living environment for Cherokee of all ages to enjoy, where nothing bad ever happened. Ever.

    He supposes it was just a matter of time, in the end.

    Hand pushing his sisters head down into his shoulder a bit more, he whispered. "Don't look."

    She only responded with a whimper.

    The area wasn't big, but it was heavily populated. Along the way of getting out of the actual tribal grounds-- he...had to do things that, he would never be proud of. And most likely would never forgive himself for. The blood of others now on his hands, in both a metaphorical and literal sense. But, it was for her. It was for Louis-- he needed to be alive to take care of her, he couldn't risk getting sick by any of these people. The thought in itself that...he might already be, killed him. Shaking the thought from his head once again, he continued on.

    It felt like forever, to be honest. Getting out of there. But, as if signifying a shred of hope-- he saw the path, the one that led out to the road, the road that led out to another place, a place that could be safe. For the both of them. A tired smile pulled at his lips.

    "Were almost there, Liu. Hold out a bit longer, okay?"

    No response.

    At least, not a real one.

    What he was responded with was-- a great deal of tiny, pained coughing. And the most pathetic whimpering he had ever heard before.


    In a panic, he held his baby sister in front of him to get a better look at her. She looked...pale, tired. In pain-- she never once stopped coughing. Not until she eventually heaved up a great deal of blood onto Isaac, staining the front of his grey hoodie. He went pale himself.

    Hic. "Issy..." was whimpered out.



    Quickly kneeling down, he held Louis in his arms, cradling her. He was panicking, he didn't know what to do-- was there anything he could do? Dropping his bat, he ran a trembling hand through his hair, trying his best not to cry in front of Louis, to not scare her further.

    "It hurtsss..."

    "I-I know, Liu, I know, shhh, it's okay. I-It's all gonna be okay, Issy has you, I got you. Shhhh."

    "I want...mommy...It's getting darker and I..."

    A single tear rolled down Louis's cheek, mixing with the blood from her mouth and staining her hoodie. Her bottom lip trembled.

    "...I'm scared of the dark..."


    "...It's not gonna be dark for long, Liu. I promise. Only for a few minutes-- T-Then you can see mom and dad, okay? They'll be there waiting for you." Deep, shaky breath.

    "They're going to be very happy to see you."

    Louis gave a weak smile.

    "Issy comes too, right?..."

    "...Issy can't go with you right now, Liu. But, i'll meet up with you all, okay? I promise." He gave a comforting squeeze to her hand, as if reassuring her.

    Louis said nothing after that, she simply smiled, too weak to talk. Head falling to the side.

    She went limp.


    It was quiet for a few moments, he simply just held his sister in his arms. His lifeless, precious kid sister-- who meant more to him then anything in the fucking world. He...she's gone. No she's not. She's not gone. He would not fucking accept this.

    "Liu?...Liu, cmon. Get up. We gotta get going-- we can't nap right now."

    For a while, he simply just sat there, calling out to Liu-- even speaking to her. As if she was just sleeping, or pretending to sleep, like she usually did whenever she wanted to be carried to bed. There was no bed to carry her to here though. She was just fooling him. Just fooling.

    "I mean, you are just sleeping, right Liu?" His voice broke at the end of that sentence.

    "...Right?" The rest of him broke at the end of that one.

    Smile wavering as his lip trembled, he hung his head-- sobbing quietly to himself, tears falling to mix with the blood below. It didn't take long before he was thrown into hysteria. All of the emotions he felt from finding his parents, watching his whole tribe fall apart, killing those people, and now watching Louis die fell on his shoulders with a great force, crushing him. Screaming in agony as he sobbed, he only stopped to crawl to the side and empty his stomach of anything left in it-- pathetically retching as he sobbed-- tears and snot mixing with vomit alike.

    With no family and no tribe left,

    He was alone.

    And he was going to die that way, wasn't he?

    Sympathy means nothing. It can't replace what has been lost, it can't bring it back, either. It was always like this. The only difference now is-- we're all on the same level.
    #5 Zeeami, Aug 16, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 18, 2014
    • Love Love x 1
  6. It was quieter than normal. That was saying something when a girl who was deaf in one ear found something quiet. Usually when she woke up in the morning the smell of coffee drifted down the hall and into her bedroom. She could always vaguely hear her parents moving about the kitchen or the dining room getting ready for work. Sitting up in her bed she stretched as she usually did. Cece pulled on a sweatshirt over her tanktop and slipped into a pair of bunny slippers she had owned for years, padding out into the hallway.

    "Mom?" She called out, rubbing her eyes. "Mom did you make breakfast?" Her voice was raspy from sleep as she walked into the kitchen. There was no reply that she could hear. Usually her mother was good at knowing exactly where her daughter was. "Mama?" She tried again and walked into the living room. No one. This was not normal. Cece walked down the hall to her parents room and the door was still closed. She knocked lightly on it, not wanting to disturb if something was wrong. Two more knocks with her knuckles, a bit more urgently then the ones before. She tried the doorknob and took a deep breath. Opening it up she peered inside.

    "Mom..." The young woman breathed out in a sigh of relief. The older woman was still asleep on her side facing the other side of the room. Cece entered and took a seat on the edge of the bed resting one hand lightly on her mothers skin. Her brows knit together. She was cold? "Mom?" She asked and gently shook her. Nothing. "Mother?" She began shaking her harder. The woman's arm flopped down onto the bed lifeless. "Mommy.... what's wrong?!" She began to cry and flipped her mother over onto her back to look down at her face. There was a trail of dried blood leading out of her nose to her mouth. There was also one leading from her ear. "What... why?" Her shoulders began to shake as she touched her mothers face. "No... No. No. No. No. No..." She checked for a pulse on her neck and then at her wrist. Nothing.

    Flying out of the room Cece picked up the phone and began dialing her fathers number only to hear nothing in the receiver. "What the..?" She threw the phone on the ground and peered outside into the street. There were cars in the middle of the street, two were smoking and another was on fire because an accident had obviously occurred. What was going on? What kind of sick joke was the universe playing on this poor girl? She looked around for her father. He must have left for work early this morning... She didn't even want to think about what had happened to him after seeing the flaming cars. What about Erik and Rob? They lived across town each in there own apartment now... She had no way of contacting them and she would not be going outside anytime soon.

    Cece walked back to her mother. From the doorway she stared at her, her lower lip trembling harshly. She dropped to the ground hugging her arms around her middle. This was a dream. It was not real. It was not happening. The floor was surprisingly comfortable and she lay down on it, not knowing the time because the clock was out by the bed. After a few hours she guessed she stood up and gathered a few things for herself. Walking into the garage she found her bike and peddled quickly to the police station downtown. Cars were flaming and people had dropped dead in various places. She kept her eyes straight ahead and parked her bike before slipping inside the station to look around.

    This would not be the day she perished.
  7. Strange smells woke Aidan up. He didn't even know when he passed out; in fact, he barely realized that the reason for the sudden darkness that surrounded him wasn't that it was night time. He was hiding in a closet in a small room in his clinic. When he made sense of his surroundings-the spare clothes and whatnot- he carefully pushed the door open. His knees weren't cooperating with him yet, out of fear and lack of blood flow from his cramped position. From the small gap, all he saw was the shambles that was once his neat and tidy clinic. Broken things were all over the floor, he could barely identify them. There was something-a liquid- gleaming on the floor. He slapped a hand when he realized it was blood and entrails.

    He hid by himself after all, the coward that he is. He didn't dare protect his helpless patients outside. When all the commotion started, he ran to his closet and hid. These self-blaming thoughts made tears well up in his eyes. He's a doctor for Pete's sake! He's supposed to help people.

    Rin was always the braver one. His tough-as-nails wife whom he's never seen get scared of anything.

    That's right, he thought, taking off his gasses and dabbing his wrists on his eyes. He set his glasses back on and made himself stand. He pushed open the door and thought of only one thing. I have to see my wife.

    The full view of his clinic made him stop dead in his tracks. It was surreal, like the set of a movie where everything went wrong for everyone. The kind of stuff he'd watch with his wife, curled up and trembling while she laughed about how "the blonde dies last for sure" or some other cliche thing. He didn't believe it was real. I don't want to believe, he corrected himself as he walked with carefully taken steps. It was as if he wanted to sneak away from whatever caused this and run to the safety of his home.

    If it was safe.

    He took out his handkerchief from his pocket, covering his nose and mouth from the strong smells of the death and destruction around. He tried not to look at the floor which was once a pleasant mint green, even as his shoes slightly slid and made hair-raising noises as he stepped. He could only think of his wife. The fact that she was supposed to drop by so they can go to her doctor together. He should have gone to pick her up instead, then maybe they'd be together by now and all they had to do was...

    ...well something. He'll think about it when he's seen her. But he realized she'd tell him off for running away again. Hesitantly, he called out. "Anyone there?" Very good, he told himself. He can't show his patients the face of a coward. They came to him for help, so help he has to give; even though all he wanted was to prove himself.

    But there was no reply.

    He kept walking. His clinic was pretty small and there seemed to be no movement from anything in there. He braced himself and looked down. The corpses of his patients littered his once polished floor. He clasped a hand to his mouth again, this time he was stuck in a fearful stance: shoulders raised, arms stiff. Mrs. Thatcher's lower jaw was ripped right off her face and one of her eyes was gone. Her bloated body was piled nonchalantly over her son's grotesque torso. His legs weren't anywhere in sight. There was a piece of something that even Aidan can't make out beside Mr. Walker's head and-Aidan stopped looking.

    He held on to his door, pushing out and throwing up on the potted plant. It seemed to have withstood whatever happened and he felt pretty bad for vomiting on it. He trudged on to his car, his mind blank.
  8. "Tanner, stop!" Yvette giggled from her bedroom. After coming home from her new job that day, she had walked into her room to find her boyfriend sitting on the bed, a box of chocolates and a cute little teddy bear in his hands. After sharing the chocolate and talking about her first day, it had somehow escalated into a tickle fight, and Tanner was winning.

    "Alright, but you look so cute when you laugh, I guess I got carried away." Tanner said to the girl as she sat up on the bed, still holding her stomach, which hurt from all the laughter. Blushing, she smiled at him before he leaned in slightly and gave her a peck on the lips. "I love you." He whispered. Yvette smiled and kissed back. "Love you too." She said quietly, then they leaned in again. They hadn't yet began their kiss when Tanner started coughing, turning away and hacking into his elbow. After a few moments, it subsided, and he turned back to the girl, a concerned look on her face. "Are you okay, babe?" She asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. He looked back at her and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Just a frog in my throat. Now, where were we...?" He trailed off, and they leaned in again.

    Yet again, the were interrupted by the coughing, this time more violent. "Excuse me." He managed to get out in between coughs before running into the adjacent bathroom, the hacking now mixed with a wet sloshy sound that showed he was throwing up. After a few minutes, the sounds stopped, but Tanner did not emerge. Concerned, Yvette walked over to the wooden door and knocked softly. "Tanner? You good?" She asked, her concern growing when he did not answer. Fear built up inside her. "Babe, if this is a joke, it isn't funny!" She said loser, her fear evident in her voice. After a few more moments, she tried the door, which was unlocked but would not open. She shoved harder, and only then did she notice the red liquid seeping out from under the door. Her eyes grew wide, and she shoved as hard as she could, the obstruction moved from the force. There, she saw what was blocking it.

    In the middle of the blood-soaked tile, once white but now stained red, was her boyfriend, his face and clothes covered in the sticky liquid, which was still warm. His shirt was covered in an unknown substance, which she eventually determined to be vomit. The toilet was filled with the stuff, along with blood covering the bowl, rim, and the side where he had tried to flush it with his blood covered hands. His once beautiful grey eyes were now clouded over, death evident in the orbs. Seeing this was too much for Yvette to even scream at first sight, but she did run to her parents room, her bare feet leaving red footprints on the carpet from the blood pool. "Mom! Dad! Call 911! Tanner...he..." She stopped yelling when she saw a similar scene out in their room, the two corpses sprawled on the bed, their eyes bulging and blood everywhere. Yvette's eyes grew even wider, and she crumpled to the floor, her hands clutching her head as she comprehended her situation. Her parents, her boyfriend, everyone she loved and cared about dead in an instant.

    She screamed as loud as she could.

    "No! This isn't happening! This can't be happening! Why? Why why why..." She repeated this over and over as she walked back to her room, ignoring the blood pool from under the door as best as she could while she grabbed her phone and a duffel bag, calling 911 as she stuffed clothes and toiletries into the bag. There was no way she could stay here, not with everyone dead on the floor. She tried calling, but after a few failed attempts she realized the same fate must have befallen the operator and all emergency responders, so she packed up and left, closing and locking the door as she quietly reassured herself that she would be ok. "Don't worry. Everything will be just fine. Just fine." She said as she hopped into her beater car and turned the key, starting the old engine. Slumping in the seat, she put her face in her hands and began to sob. "Why not me?" She spoke quietly, her hands and face quickly getting covered in salty tears.
  9. Gage smiled and put his arm around Ally who was busy furiously tapping the buttons on the ps3 controller. "Gage, if you start kissing me and I lose the game I swear to god I'll dump you."
    "You don't mean that," he said laughing.
    "No I don't, but still, don't distract me from this." She said sternly.
    "DISTRACT HER! GAGE BUDDY, HELP ME OUT!" Adam was furiously trying to beat Ally in some combat game, and like she usual Ally was winning.
    "Suck it, Adam!" She completely so complex combo move and her character ripped the head clean off Adam's character. Playfully she pushed Adam's head with her foot.
    The game was finished, and Gage leaned over and kissed Ally on the cheek. "Good job," he said grinning. She placed her hands on his face and kissed him for a few seconds before Adam shouted "Gross, stop, you guys are going to make me puke!"

    Half an hour later Adam had decided to go to the store and buy snacks, Gage did not protest. Not only would it get him food, but it would get him alone time with Ally. She laid on top of him on the couch, playing with his hair and occasionally kissing his forehead. He loved her, more than anything. If it lasted he'd definitely ask her to marry him.
    Ally sat up and stretched. "I'm going pee, be back in a minute," he took her hand as she stood and held it until she walked too far away. The moment she was out of his grasp she fell screaming.
    "Ally?!" Gage jumped off the couch and knelt beside her. She was staring unblinking at the ceiling, her face pale, her body trembling. Blood was streaming from the corner of her mouth "Ally!" he shouted again. Frightened he brought her into his lap and cradled her close to him, calling 9-1-1 as he did. But there was no answer. Someone always answered, that was supposed to be how it worked, someone always answered! He threw his phone on the ground and looked back at Ally. "Gage, I-oh god, Gage help me!" her face twisted in pain and she started crying, crying hard until she started choking and soon she lay still.
    He knew in a moment she was gone. "NO!" He screamed. Desperately he held her close to him, as if he held her tight enough it'd keep her soul in her body.
    He stood on shaking legs and kept her in his arms, screaming non stop he ran outside. There was Adam on the path with a bag of chips and a bottle of soda. He looked at the usual busy neighbor and saw nothing but bodies seemingly asleep. It was then he dropped Ally and started sobbing, trying desperately to get himself together. He imagined things sometimes, maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe he It was real. he felt it in his bones.
    As if he could escape it, he started running down the street.
  10. Vivian has exited the hospital visibly shaken with her katana in her right hand and saw smashed cars everywhere, Some on fire, some upside down. She was in fear completely. down the road was a car smashed into a truck. People dead on the streets blood coming from the body motionless. a Bandage would be on wrapped around her though it wouldn't stop her black hair from dropping down. She had no idea what was going on and wish it would end but do nothing but walk on the streets.

    Her destination was home which was a few miles away, she has to go back to the crashed car that had her cousin in first. She had to make contact with someone or she will lose her mind. She keeps saying to herself "oh god.. why is this happening.. this has to be a dream" Finally having time to talk to herself she then pinched her skin, this would notify her that it was not a dream. this was all real, the end is happening. she said to her self "Someone help me, please. . ." and would start crying while walking.

    Though after a little bit of walking not even a mile down from the hospital her stomach grumbled and she is be all alone with no one currently to be found. She said to herself saying "I need food, i need to survive. Maybe there is someone alive and i can find them." saying this more to herself trying to keep her sane. She soon found a gas station that had cars filled in the area. many people dead inside and women laying on the ground outside of the car presumably to fill up the tank of their car. Though she tried to ignore them though which would be impossible to do when entering the gas station filled with bodies and variety of food and drinks on the floor with a deep smell of blood and a rotting body. The there would be blood everywhere especially the glass that contained the drinks. Entering made her wretch and cough not being able to stand the smell. She then backed out the door and fall on her knees crying hard repeating the words "Why god.. why is this happening, someone please save me".
    #10 Rin Valentine, Aug 20, 2014
    Last edited: Aug 20, 2014
  11. [ Let's get this train moving, shall we? ]
    [ My muse is going to be randomly banging on multiple doors. If any of your characters are stuck inside of their homes looking for a reason to exit, feel free to use that detail as an opportunity! I really think the roleplay will tie together once we all finally find some means of grouping together, let's hope these efforts aren't left to rot! Hm? ]

    @Rainy (Emma)
    Running, and running. And without a single thing to run from. No, all he had to run from was the bitter reality of the situation. Ernest's legs burned, calves searing with the effort he'd put into it all. Everything he had, which now - wasn't much. He'd fallen a few times, thrice - give or take. And when he did, it was always difficult to run once more. To pull himself off of the ground, to stumble onto unsteady feet, without any logical reason as to why. A tear, dirt , blood stained face, that still contorted with the tears that brimmed. Stumbling, rolling, tumbling. Like a young man who had lost it all, even his sense of direction.

    Ernest didn't recognize this place anymore. His heart pounding so horribly loud, but survival. Surviving, and he can't survive back home. He can't survive alone, he'll die. Alone, tired , and frightened. Alone...I don't want to be alone! Please help me... He pleads in his head, throat too dry - to raw to even attempt such a pathetic plea as anything other then a rasp of his voice, choking out a sob.

    It was this need for survival that made him stop at every door that he had come across. A house, an apartment complex, a convenience store - many of them were wrecked. Windows broken, blood here, bodies there. And fire was the icing atop of the ghastly cake - it didn't matter to him. He banged on each door. So hard, that he was sure his arms would have bruised. And he didn't like pain. He detested pain - pain brought death. But that void of numbness...

    "Please open the door!! Please hear me!! Please, please I-" It was the only time where his voice pushed past the weakness that was his all, and spoke in a way that was stronger then himself. Desperate, but strengthened by the will to live. And maybe not even that - not live, but survive.

    The routine, minutes of banging. Minutes of begging, falling onto his knees until he screamed his voice hoarse once more. But no response. No immediate response, and he'd give up hope. He'd cry and agonized cry. Throw his head back and maybe someone in Heaven would hear him. And someone would help me. By some miracle, some blessing, a person would help him, because he can't fucking help himself.

    Ernest felt the piques of madness.

    Until he moved just a little farther...and saw it. In the distance.
    A vehicle.

    "...O-...Oh my God...H--Help!! P--Please stop! Ple--" His lips, and his throat dried by drought, and it hurt to scream so loudly.
    But he screamed anyway.
    Running into the road and nearly falling forward once again, legs weak and tired. Knees, trembling. But anything to catch the driver's attention. A person, the first person he'd seen since it all happened. 'It all' seemed like it had begun such a long time ago. A horrible nightmare finally coming to it's bitter end, and maybe he'd wake up. In his bed, father at his side. As if he'd never left home in the first place.

    He'd never felt such a soaring feeling before. No euphoria, no ecstasy, no undying pleasure at the ray of hope that shined upon him.

    Ernest's chest only felt as if it contained the sun itself.
    • Love Love x 1
  12. (My muse isn't inside of a housebut I'll have him pass yours, he's running around frantically)

    Gage was still running blindly, his pounding heart and heart broken sobs all he could hear. He wanted desperately to hear a voice, anyones, anyones at all. He couldn't be a lone, he couldn't.

    As he ran he eventually heard someone shouting for help. It's not true, I'm imaging shit because I'm stressed. However when he stopped running and wiped the tears from his eyes he saw the boy banging on someone's door. "Hey!" He shouted out to him. "Are...are you real?!"
    • Love Love x 1
  13. [ Ssss. I'm sorry I took so long to respond! I didn't expect such a quick one in response to mine; I delved into a game before I knew it! ]
    @ernieselephants (Gage)
    It was a dream, it all had to be a dream. Coincidences like this, they only occurred in the most optimistic of literature's fiction. A fairy tale told within the dark of a living nightmare. A tall boy, one he had never seen before in his life. But he looked nothing short of Godly, a beacon for the hope that steadily began to rise in his throat. And for a moment, he was convinced that he was nauseous. Seeing things, about to empty his stomach one more. Be it caused by exhaustion or despair. But there was no burn of bile in his throat, only the radiance that was - a chance.

    "Y-Yes! Oh my God - Oh my God..."

    Ernest finally snapped his head back, and turned around. Whilst still standing in the road. Close to the door of that complex he'd tumbled away from. And suddenly, he can feel again. Even if every feeling he felt right at that moment was unpleasant - an ache of his body and bones and skin and everything, the steadily forming bruises from underneath his jacket, which felt as if it were heating him alive, and his stomach. Giving a clench and flip, and again he can't help but crying. Sobbing like a child, he screamed once again, towards the nameless stranger.

    Ernest had yet to notice he'd fallen onto his knees. Hands cupped around his mouth, tears running down his face - and he could taste the salt in them. Tears building so quickly, and pouring all the same. Gage's image in the distance blurred through the tears. Ernest didn't care, he was incapable of caring, they could have been the worst person in the world...

    And he would still be so elated that he wasn't alone anymore.
    This is the most he's spoken on the outside of his home - ever.
    And he wasn't used to it.
    But he didn't need to be used to it.
    He just wanted to live safe, and sound.
    Truly safe.
    Ernest doesn't want to be scared right now.

    "I-----I'm real!"
    • Like Like x 1
  14. Gage couldn't believe it. Not everyone had died, he wasn't left alone. While this boy was a stranger, he was surely a blessing.
    He watched as the boy fell and cried, he wasn't sure how to react. On a normal day, Gage had problems figuring out what was real or not, it was even harder then. The boy could say he was real but was he...yes. believe it Gage. He reassured himself.

    He went to where the boy had fallen and crouched in front of him. Slowly he reached out and touched the boy on the shoulder. It was one of his most embarrassing moments, Gage was crying, the other kid was crying, and they were both on the ground being pathetic. Unsure of what else to say Gage spit out the most blatant lie. "It's okay," his voice was soft and hoarse from sobbing. "Don't cry."
    • Like Like x 1
  15. A crying pair, each tear happier then the last.

    And Ernest was supposed to be the adult here. But instinct, an immediate need to delve into the comfort that came with another person's presence. An adult, who held no word against depending on a child. Ernest didn't even bother to wipe away his own tears, warm and cold on his skin all the same. He swallowed a difficult breath, shaking and all. "I..." It's not going to be okay. Don't lie to me, please don't lie to me. But those empty nothings were all he were given, and all he had aside from the boy who crept in front of him. And it was all he needed to think of them as true.

    Maybe it was going to be okay.

    Ernest pulled Gage into a hug. A two sided gesture, something to comfort the both of him but through the rush - the haze - the rapid beating of his heart and his head, he didn't even care to realize that it was more for himself. Instinctive, and just so happened to be kind as well. It was far too warm within his jacket to even think of bearing Gage's own body heat near his own. Ernest had still been dirty, covered in both blood and dirt - tears.

    He didn't care.

    "Wa..ah..." And it all felt so much easier, arms wrapped around Gage (Without really asking for permission. But it wasn't as if he'd apologize.) Hands fisting into the back of his shirt, with a shaky grip. And his forehead meets the other's chest. Crying even more then ever - with an occasional hiccup, or jump of frantic breaths. Riddled with sobs, and clinging onto a stranger.

    "Pl-Please don't, l...eave."
    I don't want to be alone. I don't want to die.

    Another hiccup, and Ernest is trembling.
    • Like Like x 1
  16. Taken horribly off guard by the hug, Gage said nothing for a very long time. He didn't move either, his arms stayed down instead of wrapping around the stranger. It took awhile for Gage to respond to the sobbing boy. "I don't plan on leaving..." Gently he put his arms around Ernest.
    While the other cried, Gage felt the tears drying on his face. When others showed weakness he always stepped up to be strong, it was how he felt he could protect people. Obviously the stranger needed strength and reassurance, Gage could provide that.
    He could feel the boy trembling "Hey," Gage said, his voice a clearer than it'd been before. "Calm down, okay? Crying will just make you feel like shit."
    Carefully he removed himself from the boy's embrace. He couldn't bring himself to smile but his expression was peaceful. "I'm Gage. It's good to know I'm not the last man alive."
    • Like Like x 1
  17. Whimper after sob after silently muttered plea, wetting his throat by swallowing down whatever saliva he could.
    It almost felt nice. Despite the tears, disregarding the situation. Almost being able to forget, once and for all. Leave it behind, but it would only catch up with him once more.
    That didn't matter right now in this moment. He hadn't hugged someone, in quite some time.
    Only himself, when he was alone.


    Calming down, Ernest's calm was achieved with no haste. If anything, the calmness of Gage's expression were what put him at ease. Finally. The tears end, building at the corners of glassy eyes, while he slowly rubbed a shaky sleeve to his filthy cheek. A faint itch, a renegade tear that had fallen, but Ernest listened to him devotedly. Not speaking, until he finished. The last man alive...Ernest nods, quickly. As if to agree, but it looks as if he hadn't understood a word.
    He's staring, at Gage.


    ...Slowly, Ernest pulled down his hood. By the fuzz of it's rim. Over his eyes, while ducking his head down. Looking towards the ground -- his hands, his knees. "...Ernest." He spoke with an unsteady, quiet voice. Pulse racing against his throat.

    Feeling secure enough to feel insecure.
  18. Yvette sobbed on, occasionally picking up her head to look out the window only to fall right back into her crying. She felt lonely and without hope. Sure, she had been alone before. Everyone had. But this was different. She was alone, and there might not be anyone waiting for her outside the car. Nobody alive to make sure she was ok. Suddenly, an image of Tanner came into her mind, his smiling face filling her mind until she sobbed so hard she ran out of breath and had to pick her head up to breathe. It was then that she heard the pounding, a series of desparate knocks on her car. Looking out the window, she saw a boy, his face stained with blood, dirt, and falling tears. Yvette sniffed, then wiped her eyes and looked again. This time the boy was gone from the door, and Yvette chuckled sadly. "That was weird. For a second there I though..." And then she looked out the window.

    There were two boys, the one from before and a younger looking one, wrapped in a hug, collapsed on the pavement sniffing from the tears they obviously shed, evident from the streaks on their faces. Yvette widened her eyes, then quickly opened the door and ran over tears welling in her eyes once again from seeing more humans. And they were alive! Overwhelmed, she stopped running and flopped next to them, trying to cry but out of tears. So she just sat there next to them, not knowing them but comforted by their sudden and welcome prescence.

    She stood after a few minutes and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, forgetting about everything but her own elation over seeing the two. She took a closer look at them. One seemed older, the one that had come and cried at her car, but they were both sobbing like that were five. Although, who was she to say? She probably looked like a toddler herself crying as hard as she was. With a shaky breath, she tapped on their shoulders. "Um...hello there.'re alive?" She asked, hoping she didn't look too terrible. She soon realized what a stupid thing that was to think. Her whole family was dead, and she was worrying about her appearance? She would have laughed if these were different circumstances.
  19. Yvette sobbed on, occasionally picking up her head to look out the window only to fall right back into her crying. She felt lonely and without hope. Sure, she had been alone before. Everyone had. But this was different. She was alone, and there might not be anyone waiting for her outside the car. Nobody alive to make sure she was ok. Suddenly, an image of Tanner came into her mind, his smiling face filling her mind until she sobbed so hard she ran out of breath and had to pick her head up to breathe. It was then that she heard the pounding, a series of desparate knocks on her car. Looking out the window, she saw a boy, his face stained with blood, dirt, and falling tears. Yvette sniffed, then wiped her eyes and looked again. This time the boy was gone from the door, and Yvette chuckled sadly. "That was weird. For a second there I though..." And then she looked out the window.

    There were two boys, the one from before and a younger looking one, wrapped in a hug, collapsed on the pavement sniffing from the tears they obviously shed, evident from the streaks on their faces. Yvette widened her eyes, then quickly opened the door and ran over tears welling in her eyes once again from seeing more humans. And they were alive! Overwhelmed, she stopped running and flopped next to them, trying to cry but out of tears. So she just sat there next to them, not knowing them but comforted by their sudden and welcome prescence.

    She stood after a few minutes and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, forgetting about everything but her own elation over seeing the two. She took a closer look at them. One seemed older, the one that had come and cried at her car, but they were both sobbing like that were five. Although, who was she to say? She probably looked like a toddler herself crying as hard as she was. With a shaky breath, she tapped on their shoulders. "Um...hello there.'re alive?" She asked, hoping she didn't look to terrible. She soon realized what a stupid thing that was to think that was. Her whole family was dead, and she was worrying about her appearance? She would have laughed if these were different circumstances.
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  20. A small pitiful smile twitched onto Gage's face when Ernest finally spit out his name. "Good, good," He said nodding.
    Sot he kid can talk good.
    "Let's get out of the street, alright?" He asked. "Not like any cars are going to hit us but..." he suddenly felt uncomfortable out in the open knowing that others may still be alive.

    "'re alive?" When Gage heard this he was so startled he topped over (his legs had been shaking, in all honestly, a butterfly could have knocked him over).

    Embarrassed, some what scared, and blushing, he said nothing in response and just laid there.
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