Our Final Days

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Celestialis, Jan 7, 2013.

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    It is the 23rd of August in the year 2016. The earth as we used to remember it has been thrown into chaos with no technology to support it and natural disasters to destroy it. A short three months ago was the start of it all when the sun released a larger than normal solar flare. As always there were the crazies that screamed that it was the end of days, and many doomsday preppers ran off into the woods. Scientists and the media alike alerted the world that this was nothing to be worried about, we had weathered many solar flares before and this one would cause minimal damage if any. They were right, at least partially right. The first solar flare caused little damage to the world. But then another one came, and this one was stronger than the first. It caused a few satellites to fall from orbit and caused dropped calls across the globe. The next one after that was even worse, and with each following flare the damage was worse and worse. But that wasn’t the worst of the damage.

    The constant onslaught of solar flare upon the earth seemed to disrupt the energy within. Soon earthquakes and tsunamis were being reported across the globe. At first they too were minimal and expected to cause no damage out of the ordinary. That is until an earthquake ripped through the middle of the United States tearing open the earth from the west coast to the east coast. An earthquake of this magnitude had never been recorded before and it exceeded the measurements of the Richter scale. There was no counting the amount of casualties as almost half of America sank into the earth. But the U.S. was not the only affected country. Japan had been entirely demolished by the largest Tsunami leaving little to nothing to be recovered; Europe was also suffering from earthquakes just as devastating as the States. In Asia volcanos thought to have gone extinct were coming to life throwing hundreds of metric tons of ash and poisonous gas into the atmosphere. It was truly an end of day’s scenario, but all hope was not yet lost. The human race still had their precious technology, something that had never failed them in the past and they hoped would allow them to persevere against their extinction. This final and desperate hope was shattered when a solar flare so powerful exploded from the sun. When it reached earth it destroyed every single piece of electronic equipment that was not perfectly shielded by the most extensive faraday cage. It was the true test of survival to some. Others waited patiently for their god to save them. Some people just gave up and ended it on their own terms.

    We begin in New York City, it had been lucky enough to avoid being hit by any major earthquakes. But still it was not a pretty sight. The city was torn apart by minor quakes, and looting had begun, the government was failing and the police had gone to tend to their own families. Gangs were fighting in the streets and innocent people had turned to violence. For three long months the struggle only got worse, and the end results more gruesome as food supplies ran low. This new world was not one for women or children. You either hid and hoped to die slowly, or you fought and hoped to die quickly. No matter what you chose the result would be the same if you stayed in the city.




    I remember what it was like to see children in the street, to see pristine blue skies, to live in an apartment that wasn't shrouded in gray misery. I remember when Central Park used to be green. Now, it is just a reminder of death, makeshifts graves stones reaching from the ground, almost as if they were the hands of the dead. I remember when these building used to be glorious, but that time feels so long ago.

    Three months. It had only been three months since the world ended in the eyes of the living and some those living wished they had ended. That was the position Lacey Bowman had found herself. At the age of twenty-three, the young woman had moved to New York, along with her best friend, to try and shove her foot into the door of fame. Has it worked? Not really. She had gone about things in a rather naive, passive way, allowing many directors and professional photographers to step all over her, push her back to square one. Really, all that means nothing at this moment, probably won't ever mean anything.

    With a soft sigh, she sat Indian style on the ground, placing herself in front of one of those headstones in Central Park. The name Crystal Price scrawled across the wooden plank. Pursing her lips into a thin line, she ran her finger tips softly across that beautiful name. Her only constant in life was now under the ground, rotting, pests making holes in her soft skin. Gasping, she clasped a hand over her mouth, sobs shaking her thin frame as she hunched her shoulders, leaned over and placed her head against the grave marker. What she wouldn't give for her friend to be back, to hear her laughter, the richness of life that once inhabited her voice, to see how the sun glinted off her mermaid red hair. Mermaid red. A slight smile lifted the corner of Lacey's lips.

    There was no better way to describe Crystal's hair other than mermaid red. That name came about from Crystal's obsession with Ariel. The girl lllooovvveeeddd that Disney princess, wanted to be just like her. And she almost was! Lacey was convinced that her friend was part of the ocean. All someone had to do was look at Crystal walk, note her grace, the fluidity of her movements, and they wouldn't have a doubt that she was a daughter of the sea.

    “My Little Mermaid,” Lacey murmured before putting fingertips to her lips and pressing it to Crystal's name.


    Screams sounded in the distance, accompanied by the breaking of glass. It was time to go. Fear rose up in Lacey's heart as she forced herself to leave her friend's grave and head home; she just hoped that gun fire wasn't towards her apartment. Really, it didn't matter where it was.Whenever there were guns it was safer to be inside. Well, as safe as anything can be now-a-days.

    One, two. One, two, One, two, three. She counted how many steps per cement square to keep herself calm. Just around the corner. My apartment is just around the corner. After a little more counting and some more gunshots, Lacey was finally a building away from her apartment. She was almost safe! But that thought quickly disappeared when she heard running behind her only to turn and see two men running right towards her.

    The girl didn't think quick enough! Soon, arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a dark alley between building. She screamed and clawed the man's arms but soon she was silenced by being slammed against a wall and having a mouth pressed roughly against hers. After realizing her hands were free, she quickly slapped the man, dragging her nails across his face.

    “Littlebitch!” He screamed before grabbing her shoulders and slamming her back against the wall again. “Do something to keep her still. Damn!” The man snapped at his counterpart who promptly put the gunto her temple.

    Then, her nightmare started. Without any hesitation the man bit at her neck, causing her to yelp in pain. His hands were already exploring under shirt then being shoved in her pants. Rather roughly, he rubbed her, making her squirm in discomfort.

    “Stop! Please!” She tried to keep her voice from shaking but didn't succeed.

    “Shut up,” the other man said harshly, shoving the gun against her head.

    The feeling of fingers being shoved in rather her made her cry out again in pain. Squeezing her eyes shut, she started praying this would be over, but it wasn't. His fingers had been moved but now he had his hands at the collar of her shirt and without any struggle, ripped it. Hungrily, he attacked her breasts, biting harder than he should have, leaving marks that would definitely last a few days.

    “Don't please,” Lacey whimpered, only to be answered with a harder, more painful bite.

    “This is going to feel good...... for me.” The man chuckled darkly against her skin as he undid his pants before moving to hers.

  2. For Carson the last three months seemed like some type of nightmare. It was the breakdown of civilization, the end of government and the termination of human civility. It was now a world ruled by violence and those that sought to do otherwise were quickly silenced or turned from their path by the evil that pervaded the world. Each night as he closed his eyes he hoped he may wake from this terror, but each morning as the sun passed through his window he woke to find no salvation. Instead he chose to try and do his part in this new world. He desired to help the weak and support the injured where he could. But the painful truth was that no matter what good he did, it was undone by dozens more malicious acts.


    The echoing sound of gunshots off in the distance snapped Carson out of his day dreaming as he looked off into the direction of the sound. Soon screams rang out in the air, causing the air upon his neck to stiffen as he turned away. He had run through the sparse medical supplies he had taken with him this day and he knew that there was nothing he could do for them. Staring at the ground the tall muscled man began to make his way back to his apartment. Rage began to boil within his body as the sounds of death overtook the living. It had happened more than a dozen times already. Someone was being injured, abused, or killed and there was nothing he could do. But each time it was like a stake was being stabbed into his chest for the first time, and it only made him furious.

    Clenching his hands into fists he let one fly at a nearby dilapidated building. He was met with an unmoving wall and the accompanying sharp electric pain that flowed through his limb. With a grunt of pain he cradled his hand examining it. Bruised and bloodied but not broken. A sigh escaped his lips in relief. His hands were his only way he could help people. The pain and relief brought back a mixture of memories from before terror overtook the city.

    Carson Seibel had always had the desire to help others and living in New York City he had plenty of opportunities to help people but it was never enough. As soon as he was old enough he had worked towards becoming an EMT. They were the true heroes of the city, unarmed and going into possibly dangerous situations. Risking their lives only with the slim possibility that they might save someone else, they endured scenes that no person should ever see not even in war. The mangled remains of something that couldn’t possibly have been human, drunk drivers that crashed into mothers with children killing them all and yet somehow surviving with only minor injuries. All of it propelled him forward to become a paramedic, wanting to learn as much as he could so he could increase his chance to save complete strangers. Men, woman and children who would never know who he was, or be able to thank him. But that was the past. The twenty-five year old had been thrown into a world that seemed to be in perpetual need of help.

    Once again the screams of help and fear pierced the air, bringing Carson back to the present. This time they were coming from the same direction he was heading towards, and it sounded like the wails of a woman. Moving with haste he ran towards the sounds coming to an alleyway that was only yards away from his apartment building. Madness began to overtake Carson’s body as he took in the sight before him. Two men pinning a girl to the wall and against her will under the threat of violence and death they were about to take what they wanted, leaving her either dead or broken on the inside. He couldn’t let it happen.

    Quietly Carson crept into the alley carefully avoiding the debris on the ground that might alert the men to his presence. As he moved closer he noticed the gun being pressed against the woman’s head, Carson knew he would have to get rid of that first. Unfortunately he was not a fighter. The extent of his knowledge was watching the occasional MMA match on TV and the few scraps he had gotten into when he was younger. What Carson did know was that the sooner you ended the fight, the better off you would be.

    With the speed of a viper he struck at the man holding the gun, grasping the wrist of the hand that held the gun he raised it into the air and at the same time he smashed the surprised thugs head into the brick wall. With the sound of cracking bone he crumpled to the ground, but at this point the other man that was forcing himself upon had withdrew and began to flee. Carson’s size, form and quick attack had left him fearful for his life. Spouting threats of violence and retribution he escaped from the opposite end of the alleyway leaving Carson alone with a woman who he didn’t even know sitting on the cold ground.

    “Excuse me. Are you okay?” Carson asked trying not to sound intimidating as he crouched down in front of her. It was a stupid question to ask, but there were no better ones. He could tell that the woman was not okay, her clothes were tattered and she looked to be bruised and covered with abrasions.

    Picking up the gun and placing it out of sight he spoke again in a calming voice. “My name is Carson. I used to be a paramedic and I only want to help.” He had no idea what type of mental state she might be in and he had no supplies in his bag to help her. “Can you tell me your name? Do you know where you are?” He was hoping she wasn’t too far gone from reality. He had seen it before, people losing the will to live and once that happened there was nothing that could be done to prevent it.

    “I’ve run out of supplies in my bag, but I have more in my home.” He gestured towards the direction of his apartment building, not knowing that she also lived in the same one. “I help fix you up.” He offered his hand and the sincerity in his voice was not false.
  3. Oh, God this is it.Lacey's nails dragged along the ragged brick behind her, trying to find anyway to prep her for what was about to happen... but nothing did. All of a sudden, the gun was no longer to her head and the other man was pulled off of her, causing her instantly to fall to the bottom of the wall and curl against her knees. Once again, sobs shook her body as she grasped her legs tightly. Why did that have to happen? It was about to happen... it really was.Her thoughts were tormenting her, replaying the event like a movie over and over in her head.

    A man's voice ended the move for a split second. Am I okay?Am I okay!? Her thoughts screamed at the man as she lifted her head just enough to look at him over the top of her knees, much like a toddler would do if she were upset.Lacey didn't know the extent of the damage, didn't realize how torn apart she really looked but for the sake of being positing, she simply nodded. Everything is always okay. I'm not lying to him... not really.

    When he picked up the gun, she tightened back into her little ball. This man had just saved her, sure, but the sight of that gun still made her skittish. Sighing with relief when Carson set the gun aside, she relaxed a little bit again, the grip on her legs loosening while she nodded her answer. “My name is Lacey. I am an alley away from my apartment.” She made a feeble motion with her hand that could be interpreted as pointing.

    For a moment, she just stared at his hand, not moving, not speaking, almost as if the hand was an object she had never seen before. Finally, with tentative movements, she placed her hand in his and pushed against the brick wall until she was standing. As soon as she was securely on two feet she took her hand from his and pulled her torn shirt slightly around her, letting her head hang as she plodded out of the alley.
  4. Carson observed the woman as she seemed to come back into the physical world, gesturing faintly towards the area near his home she gave her name and declared the location to be near her apartment. As she took his hand he felt more assured that she might not have been badly traumatized, but his hopes were dashed when Lacey trudged onwards without giving him a second glance. She appeared to be grasping for control of herself while fighting off the fear of the situation she was just in. He knew she couldn’t be left by herself. She needed what little help he could offer.

    “Lacey.” He called after her as he exited the alley. Three months ago he might have been worried about following a girl that looked as if she had just been raped, but now it was a common sight. As Carson came within distance of her he placed a hand upon her shoulder. He meant to try and calm her down so he could offer aid, but as soon as his hand touched her shoulder he could feel her almost jump out of her skin. “Lacey. You pointed to the same building that I live in.” He explained as he walked around her side to stand in front of her. “I just want to help you.” He empathized trying to get her to understand. But he could see that his words were not making it through. She just turned her head away from him.

    “I-I don’t need anyone’s help.” She declared, her voice quivering. It was obvious she was afraid to go with him uncertain of what he might do to her. The thought that he would save someone only to commit further acts of violence against them disgusted Carson. “Listen,” He commanded, “I’m not giving you a choice anymore.” The damned woman was going to get his help whether she wanted it or not. Before she could put up a fight, or try to run he grasped her wrist. His actions were firm and assertive. As he began to march onwards pulling Lacey a long with him he felt little resistance from her. Whether she had given in, or just didn’t care anymore he couldn’t tell. He just hoped he wasn’t furthering the harm to the battered girls psyche.

    The pair soon entered a nearby decrepit building, the entrance was strewn with trash and filth but there was not another person in sight. It was how this new world was. Humans had turned into rats, fleeing at the slightest sense of a predator. They ascended the creaking stairs for a few levels until heading off onto the fourth level as they walked through the hallway there were signs of violence everywhere. Doors were broken down, locks were smashed in. Dried blood was soaked into the floor boards and splattered across the walls. The old smell of decay and gore was an ever present undertone it was intoxicating and almost unbearable.

    His door was the last one on the left in the hallway. He brought Lacey up next to his side and gave her a sideways glance before he jammed his key into the door and unlocked it. Pushing the door open he took a hold of Lacey once more and quickly forced her into his room. Following after her he let go, and swiftly pushed the door shut before locking it and securing it from intrusion. Turning around to face Lacey he spread his arms outwards, “Well, let me take a look at you.” If his apartment wouldn’t convince her that he was just out to help others in need nothing would.

    His apartment was fairly open and modern looking. The kitchen was off to the right of the entryway and it looked like any regular kitchen. It had a refrigerator, stove, sink, counters and half a dozen cupboards. A small counter island separated the kitchen from the living room, which again appeared to be like any other home. Carson owned a moderately sized television that was sitting on a glass stand. In front of the television was a black coffee table which was strewn with various medical supplies. Behind that was a comfy looking leather couch, if it wasn’t what appeared to be the end of days Lacey might have even been impressed by his living conditions! To the left of the room were two doors one lead to a bed room, and the other to a bathroom. But none out of all of this the most noticeable aspect of it all were the shelves that lined his walls. Upon each shelf were various medical supplies and devices, packages upon packages of gauze, combat gauze, ace wraps, Israeli bandages, tourniquets, needles, various IV fluids and dozens of more things that Lacey wouldn’t have even been able to guess at what they might be used for. But while it appeared to be a treasure trove the remaining supplies were few and would soon be gone.

    Before the end Carson had been buying and gathering medical supplies just to have on hand in case of an emergency. But as soon as chaos began to spread through the streets and into people’s homes he sprang into action. Knowing that the more supplies he could gather the better off he would be, but over the past few months his supplies had begun to dwindle down.
  5. “I'm not giving you a choice anymore!”

    Who is he to think he can talk to me like that? She narrowed her eyes at his hand on her wrist. The thought to pull away quickly flashed through her mind, but she couldn't put up a huge fight; it was easy to tell that maybe she needed a little help.Giving in, she grabbed both parts of her shirt with one hand and followed Carson, feeling like a child being scolded by a father.

    “Just a floor below me,” Lacey murmured, kicking a piece of trash out of the way then another. Trash was everywhere! That had become the norm and something that the girl had to deal with. It had become such a norm that Lacey could tell someone all the trash that was lining the hall to her apartment. Honestly, there have been times where she has gone in the hall and notice a piece of trash moved, or missing entirely, and locked herself in her apartment. You can never be too cautious, right?

    The sound of the door shutting, paired with his voice, startled her from her thoughts about trash and back to her thoughts about the present.Furrowing her eyebrows, she wrapped her arms around her midriff and looked at the guy with his arms wide open. He is already looking at me. What more does he need to see.She sucked her lower lip under her top teeth and shifted her weight onto another leg, thinking through what she should do. It isn't like he will do anything, right? Lacey glanced back at the shelves filled with medical stuff. I probably do need help. Lightly,she ran her tongue over her split lip that had somehow managed to get cut during that... event.

    “You can help,” she said softly, dropping her arms to the side and allowing her split shirt to hand loosely around her. “I'm sorry that I look so bad. Well, I'm guessing I look bad.” Her voice was low as she softly fingered a bruise on her shoulder.
  6. Carson found it a little incredulous that Lacey was concerned about her appearance, especially now that the world was gone and she had just been assaulted. He gestured to a padded wooden stool that was sitting next to the island in his kitchen. “You can sit down; I’ll see what I can scrounge up for you.” Her clothes were torn up pretty badly and she looked dirty. But since running water had stopped everyone had started looking grimy. Carson began to sweep through his home, picking up various items and depositing them on the counter before her. He disappeared once more into his room before entering back in holding with in his hands a couple extra shirts and two pairs of pants which he set further down the table.

    “I hate to ask it, but can you tell me what happened?” Carson knew that recounting the tale of what she went through probably wasn’t easy. But he had to know exactly what they had done, and how far they had gone with her. As he waited for her to respond he slipped on a pair of medical gloves and began to observer her face. With a gentle touch he turned her head back and forth looking over any surface injuries. Pulling away he tore open an alcohol swab, “This might sting a little.” He warned before he began to clean away the areas around a few abrasions on her face. After feeling satisfied that the area was as clean as it would get he grabbed a couple band-aids and placed them over the scrapes on her face. If Lacey wanted him to clean up any other injuries she had, she would need to undress further.

    “I had some extra clothing.” He gestured to the small pile of clothes he had set down. “They are all womans clothing so they don’t fit me.” Walking away further into the kitchen he moved to one of the cupboards opening them up and retrieving two water bottles, it was close to the end of his supply. “I’d offer you a bath, but then you’ve probably noticed the water has been out for quite a while.” He said laughing a little as he tossed her one of the bottles of water. There wasn’t much to laugh at these days, so Carson tried to eke it out when he could.
  7. Her eyes followed his gesture before she tentatively sat on the stool. She wiggled a moment, adjusting herself on the seat then stilled, hunching her back. Supposedly, it was bad posture to be hunched over and also portrayed a lack in self confidence, but Lacey wasn't too concerned with how she was being portrayed. The only thing she was concerned with was how much her body seemed to ache. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stared down at her legs, looking at them like they betrayed her for being so sore. Why do you hurt so bad? Roughly, she ran the palms of her hands over the thighs of her grungy jeans, jumping when Carson dumped stuff on the counter next to her.

    Feeling launched down memory lane, she picked up a packet of alcohol prep pads and read the words printed on them. Slightly, she squeezed the pack and smiled a bit at the cushy feeling. Thinking it wouldn't hurt anything, Lacey ripped open the corner a bit and waved it under her nose, taking in the smell of rubbing alcohol. It had been so long since she smelled something so clean! Granted, it smelled more like harsh chemicals instead of cleanliness, but after what just happened that simple little alcohol swab was going to wash away her grime and disgust.

    "Thank you," Lacey murmured when she saw the clothes, immediately assuming he was going to give them to her. The next words from his mouth caused her to flinch, almost as if every sound inflicted some sort of damage to her. "You want to know what happened?" Bitterness edged into her voice, eyes piercing as she stared directly at Carson for a moment. "What happened is two guys dragged me into an alley." He turned her head back and forth. "I was shoved into a jagged brick wall with a-" Lacey inhaled quickly through her teeth at the stinging from the alcohol. "With a gun to my head. The other man tore my shirt, bit me." She motioned quickly to her nipples, eyes watering as she recalled the feeling. "Shoved too many rough fingers inside me." Instead of the stronger bitter voice she had, it faded into a vulnerable, meek voice.

    Lacey just nodded and caught the water bottle, opening it quickly and taking a couple good gulps. He was right. The water had been out for quite some time, and it was miserable. Going day in and day out feeling slimy, gritty and just generally unclean was fairly unpleasant. There were days where Lacey would try turning the faucets in hopes that maybe there would be something; she was always disappointed. What she did find odd was his laughter. She raised her eyebrows a bit, wrinkled up her nose, and shook her head, not quite seeing any humor in this situation. Instead of just mulling over why he was laughing, she brought the attention back to injuries she may or may not have.

    "Look at my back? It hurts..."

    Quietly, she slid off the stool then shrugged off her torn shirt, tossing it as far away from her as possible. She turned her head as far as she could trying to look at her back herself, but it didn't work. Reaching around, Lacey pointed at a few places where it stung, grimacing as the bruised, stiff muscles were forced to move. Her face went pale when she felt a sticky substance on her finger, knowing instantly that it was blood.

    "I'm bleeding." There was an alarm in her voice as she looked at Carson with wide-eyes. "I'm bleeding." Voice softening as her chin and lower lip began to tremble, signalling that tears were about to fall. It wasn't that she had never bleed before; that clearly wasn't the case. She just couldn't see how bad it was. All the she really knew was that her back stung like all hell. So, now that she knows there is blood, a picture of a huge gash was flashing in her mind.