Quietly Into The Night


Hopeful Monster
Mars had since fallen back from the growing crowd forming around the map. Now she stood alone between the group of teens and the adults, not quite interacting with either. She orbited them like a silent planet. She didn't know why Jason had let her join, or why the others were letting her stay, up to this point, she had been pretty useless. Throughout the trip she had kept to herself, rarely speaking to anyone, with her dull, glazed eyes always staring out past the trees and roads, to somewhere in the distance.

To them, she was probably just some dumb, knocked up tráfala from Pilsen who couldn't even read a map right. She wondered when the others would realize that she wasn't worth the effort, that she and the baby would probably just die during labour, anyway. Maybe they would leave her behind with one of the smaller cars that couldn't carry supplies. Not worth the fuel to run it. She hoped her coffin would at least be one of the sports cars--the '75 Firebird, if she could choose...

Something warm and soft had brushed past her legs, tail wagging, tongue lulling as it darted into the tall, dry grass. "Boon!" Mars hissed, following as quickly as her bulbous belly would allow. The others didn't seem to notice she had gone off after him, maybe she heard Jason calling after her, or the dog, she couldn't tell. Boon, a private name she had called him, since no one else had bothered with the task. Or perhaps they too had given the dog their own names, reflections of what the animal had meant to them. For her, it had been the quiet way the dog would regard her, without malice or expectation, the way he would place his furry head in her lap. He was the only member of the convoy who had seen her cry. She wasn't going to leave him here.

Mars could hear the small, frightened scurrying through the brush--field mice and hares fleeing from the disturbance she and Boon had caused. She was thankful they were scurrying away, it meant they weren't Switchers.
It wasn't long before the brambles and grasses parted to reveal the collapsed ruins of the burger stand. Whoever had run it before had not changed a thing about the building since the 50s, judging by the bright red paint that had faded to a dull orange. Mars glanced the still-standing sign, before calling to Boon again. Her only reply was the creak of metal hinges slowly coming loose as the sign swayed in the breeze.

Mars found Boon with his nose buried in a pile of rubble near the burger stand's front entrance. As she came closer, she could hear the wet lapping of his tongue. "Ugh! Boon, no! Stop eating-" Mars stopped dead in her tracks, her green eyes wide with terror, reflecting the feminine hand in their depths.

--she was huddled behind a row of musty coats, scarves, hats; one hand clamped over her mouth to choke down the scream that wanted to retch out of her stomach. A single sliver of light illuminated one terrified green eye as the scene unfolded before her.
The angel danced its wild dance just outside of the closet, coating the apartment in feathers and blood, its hundred tiny wings flexing, its agonized song sent an arching chill through her.

As one, the pigeons parted when the room was bathed in a lime green light, dissipating from the human shape they had taken. There were heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, Mars could hear them, closer and closer. There was only one part that the pigeons had not been able to devour: a right hand, the golden band around the finger glowed in the eery light.

This time, Mars couldn't stop herself from screaming.


Christa could not believe she had heard something coming towards it, it sounded like a switcher but she could not be sure. Soon she felt a wet tongue and some floppy lips around her fingers and she smiled it was a dog. "Hey boy." She said very weakly. "Please go get help." She hoped that the dog would understand what she meant and went to get someone to help. The dog was normal as far as she could tell and that meant humans were around. Animals were even turned against each other so that was a good sign to see a normal dog. Then she heard Mars calling about the dog eating something which she assumed was her fingers. "Hello?" She called out a little louder looking at her brother's hand gripping her shirt.



нαяυкα єι∂єη

Woahh, could it be it smells something?

Haruka wasn't sure if the dog was sniffing out trouble, humans, or food, but she was willing to take her chances. She glanced Jason quickly, "You're not going after it?" She wanted to ask even though she could predict the answer. It was kind of ridiculous to go chasing after a dog knowing the kind of danger that lurked around. She tried to think rationally; although she felt bad for the dog and was curious about whatever he might have found, she still didn't want to get the rest of the convoy in trouble if she did.

Then, Mars ran off after the dog and Haruka panicked. The pregnant woman was in no condition to be chasing after an animal in those outskirts. Haruka took after her quickly, following her as best as she could, through bushes and high grass. They came close to a old, run-down restaurant. Mars was up ahead, calling to the dog. It has a name? Haruka wondered faintly. As Mars looked fine, Haruka approached slowly, looking around. This place is ... desolate..

Mars began to scream. Haruka rushed over, putting a hand on her shoulder to try and calm, "Hey, hey, calm down!" She bent to look at what the dog was licking at and froze. There was a girl's hand, another hand, two bodies, crushed under the large piece of wood. They seemed mangled together. Haruka heard the voice and touched the girl's hand, gently prodding the dog away.

"Hey.. we're here. Are you okay? I'm going to try and get it off you.." Haruka stopped to take a good look at the wood.



Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light

"Hey, beau'iful! You're jus'.. hey... I'm jus' with the boys. YEAH! Gettin' a lil drink."

"Jason... there's someone in the house..."

"I loves you, babe. You know tha', right?"


"... Hu-.. Hey... Hello? Amy?.... Amy?"

Jason stood frozen, watching Mars take off and Haruka rush after her, the two girls traipsing into the grasslands after Boon. The trucker seemed rooted to the spot, his eyes distant, his hand squeezing around the wedding band on his finger.

He was afraid.

Then the screams sounded across the field, from beyond the copse of trees that hit the collapsed buildings on the outskirts of town. "Fuck!" He spun towards Zivan, meeting the soldier's eyes and seeing realisation mirrored in them.

They both knew what those screams would attract.

* * * * * *​

As Haruka moved Boon aside the dog started whimpering, its tail and head going low as it backed away and slunk behind Mars's legs. Beyond the ruined building a cornfield separated them from the next lot and it was only now, as the dog's behaviour changed, that Mars saw the unnatural way the field was moving.

The corn was being disturbed, each plant pushed aside as something moved through it, accelerating in a direct line towards them.

And it was snarling.

Childish Grumpino

all things are nothing to me
We call it 'the echo'.

People don't realise just how far sound can travel, especially in times like these when there's really not that much noise in the air. If something loud happens, say a gunshot or maybe a scream, then it can echo all around the surrounding area.

And if they're in the area, they'll hear it.

Switchers aren't intelligent things, but you can't deny they possess a certain... predatory cunning. So if they hear a sound they associate with us, they'll move to the source as fast as they can. When they do, they tend to make some sort of noise as well, a snarl or a screech. And if that's loud enough, more Switchers hear it and close in, possibly signalling more...

...it's not a pretty picture if you're the source of the noise, let's just put it that way.

The eldest of the Lowe siblings was the first to react to Mar's screaming; Noel glanced from his sister to the car for a moment before pulling the keys from his pocket and placing them in his sister's trembling hands.
“Get the car started, and get the gun from the glove-compartment.” He glanced over to Jason and Zivan. “What do we do? There's bound to be things out there that heard that scream, and--”

In the distance, the corn-field began to stir, as though multiple figures were pushing their way through it. Then the Lowes heard their cries. At a stretch, one could tell that the sound came from vocal chords that were once human, but no longer; they'd been changed, warped, and so too was the sounds that came from them.

“They're here!” Katie yelled, the panic in her voice rising as she ran for the car. Noel tugged the handgun from the holster at his side, the pistol looking almost too large in the teenager's hands but held resolutely none-the-less.
“We gotta go now!”

And down at the corn-field, the first of the Switchers burst from the plants.

More were coming.


Someone else was here that was not screaming and she felt the girls hand on her's. "My brother is here to he's hurt but alive." She said waiting patiently as someone tried to help her they were human and she never thought she would be safe. The corn field started to move and she heard the corn stalks breaking knowing something bad was happening. "Hurry please get me out." She cried not wanting to deal with those switchers again she had already dealt with them and they almost killed the twins. Underneath the wreckage she moved slightly but not a lot she was being pinned down and she could not do anything. This happened every day she tried to get out of here but nothing worked and she just got in more pain trying.

Dawn Bringer Invictus

Race Against Time

Zivan didn't speak much but when he did, it was loud, to the point, and very direct. A hand snaked down to a pocket and grabbed a handgun, immediately passing it to Jason while he stormed out of the group, shifting the assault rifle to his hands. If earlier he moved like a patrolling guard, now he was a predatory creature defending its pack. The surreal shock of the moment was violently interrupted by a harsh open-throated bark, one that caused a few to almost stumble in its demanding tone, causing all heads to turn to him.

"ANYONE who can shoot worth a damn, weapons out and watching the vegetation! Don't shoot until you can hit them! Everyone else, heads down! Be ready to bug out ASAP!"

There was barely any time to really register it for them as he spat it out machine gun fast but before they knew that, he'd vaulted over the car he'd been issuing his iron commands from. Merely hopping from car to car and mostly watching the outskirts of their visual ranges while on the move had made him somewhat sloppy but every little bit of adrenaline pouring in was changing that. The feelings of feebleness and slouch that had crept in during recent days washed away as the scout became the soldier once more.

In all honesty, he'd been utterly dumbstruck by seeing the miserable pregnant teen run, perhaps guided by some sort of one-sided blind affection towards the canine. Just where had that animal come from anyways? He'd barely paid any attention to it and something told him he should have merely shot it right then and there - a single bullet was a lot less noisy than a one-canine symphony of Look-We're-Humans-Who-Are-Totally-Vulnerable in "We are fucking boned now aren't we?" minor. Yet he didn't. He'd become their black sheep, their Malthusian executor, and they'd alienate him further. Curse his aloof nature sometimes.

Then again, that one bullet would have just attracted more of the zombie-like mutants.

Zivan's mind was a blizzard of tactical information, theoretical approximations, and mental preparations honed by a mind that approached battle in a cold, detached way. His eyes darted everywhere, picking up every single trace of motion he could see - a collapsed burger stand, in other words, a makeshift defensive position. The sound of hurried feet and more than there were trailing him - barely a minute before they charge. The weakened cries from beneath the rubble, which meant that they were in an even worse situation. Finally, they fell upon the engineer and the soon-to-be-mother. Ahead of the others, he could only spare a quick glance at the screaming woman, uttering a rasped "SHUT UP THEY'RE COMING!" and a somewhat less harsh "GET HER OUT OF THERE A BIT FASTER!" at Haruka. At least that dog was urgently barking at them in what he assumed was a similar message.

Like some barbarian horde of times past, the mostly unarmed creatures simply surged across the open ground. He'd smelt them before they'd even entered his sight - an acrid smell, aged, tangy like rust, but with a putridity to it that felt rotting, not quite decomposing into nothingness. It didn't take a sharp nose to smell that strange sense of life clinging to these twisted bodies with their oddly jutting bones, unbalanced over-grown statures, and the strange purulent boils and buboes that dotted them like landscapes.

There was one thing that spoke louder than savagery and it was 5.56.

A particularly tall one, ahead of the pack, was cut short in the middle of its battle cry as three precisely aimed round perforated its skull. Gurgles were cut short and turned into vague bubbling as the spasming form jerked back and fell, trampled by the living stampede it led. The iron sights jerked down to re-acquire another target, cracking out in strict and orderly cadence, answered by the deadbeat thud of dead or now dying corpses. Sometimes, the others stopped to feast on their once-standing comrades.

Inside his mental-battle planner, he measured distance and kept a close eye on appearance. Funny how they were all told that it was the inside that mattered. Most of these creatures seemed to wear their viscera externally in putrid sacs, some of these serving as "ammunition" sacs for vile contagion projectiles or hideous defensive structures that would explode when threats were too close.

The magazine went empty and he yanked it out, slamming another in.

He'd downed maybe ten at most but he was only slightly slowing the near-mindless horde. Ammunition was hard to come by and they had already lost any war of attrition at the moment.

"HOW MUCH LONGER!?" he yelled at the others, forced to do so not only over the report of the rifle but also the dog's barking and the nightmare screams.


Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light

The Switchers were their greatest weapon... not through their effectiveness, but through what they symbolised.


With the spores that dropped from those ships a message was delivered: that nothing here was sacred... that all things were but one genetic nightmare from which our invaders painted untold horror.

That humanity... as we know it... is a fragile construct.

The Switchers showed us for meat and fluid and nothing more. The legion and weeping sores of a godless world.

Jason came running across the fields behind Zivan, stopping only when the symphony of rifle and Switcher began. He hovered behind the soldier, hands over his ears, pistol pointed skywards. He faltered at the sight of them - at the living sculptures of pain and misery that shambled from the corn crop, their advances more piteous than malevolent... like diseased children clutching at the parents who abandoned them.

His courage returned, though, when he saw what was at stake. "MARS!"

The yell barely penetrated Zivan's fugue. The pregnant girl was trying to control the dog, which had taken to defiant barking at the oncoming tide. And beyond them Haruka was kneeling by the wreckage of a house and digging down towards something.


There were more coming... more than the soldier could contend with. One of them came stumbling across the collapsed roof sections, its weight crushing Jacob and Christa as it moved. It was little more than a pair of legs, the torso split open like a flower and cut by sprouting columns of spine and muscle. There was no face, only the gaping maw of its mutated cavity.

Jason lunged forward and grabbed Mars by the shoulder, pulling her behind him. Haruka still wasn't moving, and the abomination was heading right for her. He raised the pistol, sweating hands releasing the safety then readying it with a clumsy motion. The first shot went off in his hand and the bullet struck the kneecap of the Switcher, spinning it as it reached for Haruka. Then Jason levelled the pistol and sent the next shot into its gaping thorax. The metal was lost amid cancerous flesh and bone. It only heightened the inhumanity of the thing before him.

With a cry the trucker squeezed the trigger over and over, shredding the beast with the whole clip of bullets until it crashed back down amidst the rubble.

And what screams were ripped from this world in its passing were taken up in the thumping of Jason's heart.



нαяυкα єι∂єη

Damn it. Were we too late?

Haruka's ears were ringing. First Mars, then the soldier and now, even Jason was shouting at her. She held back the urge to puke as the acrid smell flooded into the clearing. Her hands pulled at the block of wood, trying to lift it off the girl and her brother. She put her knee on the ground, bending so that she could dig her elbows into the ground and lift thew wood. It was heavy and Haruka knew she could only lift it barely enough for the girl to scramble out and pull her brother along with her. Does she have enough strength to pull herself out, though?

Zivan was fighting them off, but even Haruka could tell there were too many to fight against. The amount of footsteps versus the amount of bullets fired was telling her it was dangerous tostay there any longer. She couldn't bring herself to abandon the kids. She pulled at the log again, falling backwards as one of the beasts crashed through the rubble, dragging itself across the plank of wood. It looked heavy, made mostly of disgusting muscle and spine, an abomination that Haruka couldn't bear to look at for more than a second. Although it's weight had crushed on the survivors, Haruka sprung back onto her feet, pulling away the chunks of wood that had broken in wake of the creature. Hopefully, they were still alive. Hopefully.

She whirled her head to the side to see Jason pull Mars away and shoot for the stumbling beast. Holding her breath, Haruka rolled to her left as Zivan's bullet decapitated the monster even more. If it was ugly before, Haruka didn't even want to give it a description now.Jason was going crazy with his bullets, shooting the thing over and over again until it fell. Haruka knew she would've done the same. With sigh of relief, she stood up and looked over at the remaining wood covering the survivors. It looked as though the boy had fallen over to protect the girl, his hand over her. Haruka reached low to tug the girl's arm to see if she was still able to move.

Let's hurry and get out of here. There were goosebumps all over her arms. Every time she came across the Switchers, Haruka was reminded of devastation she did not wish to remember. It was hard enough seeing it all around them wherever they went. She was trying to be positive, but at this point in time, she, like Mars, just wanted to scream. Calm down, calm down.



All she could hear was shooting and screaming that would probably already attract more and more then one crushed her chest more. She let out a small scream when she felt the amount of pressure on top of her while the girl was frantically trying to save her and her brother. Immediately she put her fingers to her brother's nose to check for his breathing and he still was. Finally when the boards broke underneath the amount of the switchers weight she managed to start fighting and break through the rest. When she emerged she had cuts everywhere probably a broken rib and she turned towards her brother. Why wont he wake up she wished he would. Surprisingly enough she still had a lot of energy for someone who had been stuck in the rubble all day. With Mars's help she managed to pull her brother from the wreckage safe and sound and noticed Mar's belly. "You're pregnant in this situation?" She asked touching Mar's belly not knowing how it could still be alive.

Childish Grumpino

all things are nothing to me
Wrenching the car-door open, Katie threw herself into the truck and slammed the door before jamming the keys into the ignition, praying the engine would start smoothly. Lady Luck, fortunately, was smiling on her; the reliable old engine grumbled into life as around her the rest of the convoy members without weapons fled for their own vehicles. Reaching across to the glove compartment, the girl pulled it open and removed what was kept inside; her father's second handgun. It was smaller than the first both in caliber and size, a Glock 17, but this suited Katie nicely. She could hear the things outside the car approaching; the weight of the weapon felt reassuring in her hands.

If it came down to it, she could defend herself.

Outside still, Noel moved forwards with the other convoy members who were prepared, and able, to stay and fight. Jason and Zivan had pushed ahead, trying to make it to the stragglers in time. Noel hoped to God they succeeded, but he and the others had the rest of the convoy to worry about.

And from the corn field they came, twisted monstrosities that were once human, screaming and wailing as they charged the survivors.

Panic gripped his heart, but Noel planted his feet into the ground and prepared to fire.
“Nobody panic!” he called to the men and women alongside him, “Don't fire unless you have to!” The words coming from his mouth gave him a sense of deja-vu, like he had heard them said before under different circumstances.

Suddenly he remembered where, and when.

He is standing in a field several miles out of town, a boy of 12 out with his father to use a firearm for the first time. His father stands next to him, a giant of a man both in size and bearing. He looks up to Father, who looks down at him with a sly smile on his face.
“Ready, Noel?” Father asks. He nods furiously, anticipation gripping him. Father reaches down into the rucksack and removed an object that he places into his son's hands.

The boy looks down at the pistol he holds in his hands and smiles broadly. “Now listen, son.” Father's tone is uncharacteristically serious. The boy looks up, confused. “This is the most important thing I will ever tell you about shooting. You must never forget it.” Father kneels down so he is at his son's level. “Can you do that for me?” The boy nods with a sombre look upon his face. “Good man. Now listen.

“What you hold in your hands is not a toy. It is a finely tuned device designed with one purpose in mind. That purpose is to take the life from other living things. Do you understand? It is an instrument of death, and is due respect. Never forget that. Whenever you pick such an object up, remember what it is and what it was made for. And above all else, never fire at another human being unless circumstances force you to.”
Father looks him in the eye. “Can you remember that for me, Noel? Always?”

The boy nods. “Yeah, dad.” Father smiles.
“Glad to hear it, son. Now let me show you how to hold that weapon properly...”

The memory filled Noel with renewed hope. As he assumed the position to fire upon the oncoming Switchers it was as if his father was standing alongside him all the way.
“Assume a wide enough stance,” the memory of his father told him, “Recoil's always more of a bitch than you think it'll be.” The howling of the creatures no longer fazed him so much as he assumed his stance. “Don't put your finger on the trigger until you have a shot.” He levelled the pistol at the closest of the oncoming Switchers. “Take a deep breath.” Noel inhaled slowly, air filling his lungs.

“Now,” said the memory of his father, “Fire.”

Noel's finger moved from the guard and onto the trigger.
“This one's for you, dad...” he muttered under his breath, and despite the situation a small smile crept across his lips.

He began to open fire upon the Switchers.


Divine Space Witch Ò◇Ó
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Meanwhile in Gentry...

Avery hefted the last crate off the back of her wagon. Grunting as she dropped it down with the rest. Her arm passed over her forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat dripping down her brow.

With the worst timing, Sylvia finally stepped outside greeting Avery with that I knew you'd be finished. look only a sister could give. Resting her hands on her hips, she tilted her towards the stack of supplies. "That everything or are ya goin' back for another load?"

"This should be enough for the week. Farren is gettin' worried about rabble-rouses getting greedy and causin' a fuss up in her place. We're gonna have to start rationing until we get some sort of control or new police force in town." Gentry never boasted a large amount of police. It had one sheriff and a couple deputies. Had. When the cities started going down, every cop around was called in to help with the chaos.

They never came back.

Now not only was Gentry hurting for able working bodies, there was no one left to keep the peace and retain some sense of government and order. Their father was doing everything he could, but they were going to have to do better than sitting people down for 'long talks' real soon.

The sound of hoof prints caught both girls attentions and they towards the road. Riding in was one of the sentries. A small group of armed men that patrolled outside the town's limits to keep an eye out for any switchers in the area or refugees. The look on his face didn't deem well as he stopped in front of the diner and approach them.

"Where's Robert? I pass Jack on the way in to town and let him know, but I gotta tell Robert!" The man was barely even twenty, more a boy than a man. He could barely even catch his breath as he spit out the words.

"Hold on now, breathe a minute. Dad's back on the farm getting wood for town. What's going on?" Avery asked with concern.

He took a deep breathe, but it came out in a flurry of sentences. "Lookouts spotted switchers a couple towns over and they say there's a caravan of peeps that were heading in to Kansas city! Theys a ways away but they ones farther out were talkin' 'bout going to help but then they went and fought about it and a couple split up to head out for the city while the others are going to get weapons, cause they know them switchers are bound to follow!"

It was a lot to take in all at once with the way he rambled, but Avery got the jist of it. Some stupid people thought the city would be safe. And now a couple of fool-hardy men thought they were going to be heroes and stage a rescue. Heroes were always the first ones to die...

"Go tell Dad. He's out in the west woods. Quick now." Avery shooed the boy off before turning to her sister. "If they manage to make it out of the city alive, there's a good chance somebody might be infected or the switchers follow after them. Even if not, we're gonna need somewhere temporary to put them. I need you to rally up any more guns and able hands you can find. I'll talk to Farren about food and housing."

"You got it." Sylvia saluted before jogged down the street.


James stood there, looking on as the others ran towards the commotion. Shit, it was only a matter of time before they found us. He took a long, slow drag on the cigarette, relishing the nicotine fix. No fucking way am I going to follow them in to battle. An idea flashed in James' head. This was just the sort of distraction he could use.

Flicking his cigarette aside, James rushed back in to the trailer. Perfect, there was nobody in here right now, and all eyes were turned towards the direction of the gunfire. He grabbed his backpack, swiftly rifling through it, searching for the box. Desperation filled him as he tore through the bag, searching for the little box, unable to find it. It was gone. Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit...someone must have stolen it while I was outside. Rage welled up inside him, bursting at the seams. First, he needed a weapon, then he would track down the person who had stolen his box.

Dawn Bringer Invictus

Impromptu Roadtrip

"Can it for later! Too many mutants, not enough bullets!

Without warning, the sweating and iron grip of Zivan descended unto Christa's underarm, his other hand busy spraying wildly at the dreadfully close horde. The stench and sound of them was nearly overwhelming but the cold and detached fighter within beat back the nausea and crowd-like instinct towards chaotic everyone-for-himself madness. With a rough pull, he half yanked and half threw her to Jason, shutting out any of his questions with the gargoyle stare of a man who is not going to answer any questions because their hissing and malformed doom-bringers are only maybe twenty feet away at most and he's the only one with a fully automatic weapon. With barely having time to flip a spare handgun magazine towards Jason, he proceeded to fire off the rest of his own clip, further stalling the line of rampaging monstrosities. The whole brood to shuddered, screamed, and thrashed in agony as the bullets punctured multiple targets, causing a few chemical sacks to explode into horrid gaseous clouds, disorienting those who'd been too far back and were trying to claw past and through their "comrades".

This would be the worst part of combat - the part where they kept on running and hoped feverishly that these were only the stupid-even-by-feral standard switchers who lacked the higher brain capacities of the pack-hunters and the ones that were apparently smart enough to use firearms. The vomit and spines didn't matter much to him. Sure, some of them had natural projectile weaponry but he'd literally seen drunkards fire more accurately than they could. They weren't in enough numbers to make any "weapons fire" effective, seeing as the spines lost most of their piercing power at longer ranges and vomit... well vomit wasn't exactly very aerodynamic in the first place.

None of this stopped him from sprinting forward like a lion in human form.

The assault rifle and his vest weighed him down but raw adrenaline had a way of helping one's body ignore the very existence of certain physical elements. The stampeding storm of hundreds of legs, some of their possessors probably having at least four too many than they needed, the bright flashes and cracks coming from up ahead, and that wildly amplifying sense of death-defying life-surge that mercilessly grew with each step they took, closer towards the comforting faded metal and frantic gun-wielding warriors of the convoy.

As it turns out, Noel was a pretty good shot. A smile crept almost unnoticed by him unto his lips before he turned around and added one more burst to the covering fire. Near instinctively, he jumped onto the brother-and-sister pair's car, tapping Noel, turning towards the other pair they'd just rescued and yelling at them to get on the nearest vehicle that had any space.
He said little else, merely burst-firing into the rampant mob that was now threatening to wash over them like a barely-sentient tidal wave and drown them in their decomposing fingers and waiting, hungered mouths. This was the part of the plan you didn't really need to brief anyone - when you simply start running (driving in this case) as far away and as quickly as you shouldn't actually be able to do.


Hopeful Monster
"Let go! There's someone under there!" Mars wrenched herself free from Jason's grip, once she was sure the first Switcher was not going to get up again. She left her savior to reload as she darted, clumsily, to help Haruka free the girl and her brother.

"You're pregnant in this situation?" The feel of hands against her belly made her wince and move to swat them away, but the moment was lost to her as they were swept up by the renewed torrent of bullets around them, and Zivan's barking orders. What happened after that would always be a blur to Mars, punctuated only by the feel of someone's hand--Jason's?--dragging her back through the brush, and the unearthly snarls that followed close behind.

Back on the asphalt, back in the open. Everyone either scrambling for the cars or firing into the brush: chaos, a warzone, it least she thought that's what warzones looked like. She had never actually been to a--

"Aaah!!" Something slipped beneath her feet and soon the asphalt rose to meet Mars's chin. Exquisite pain bloomed from somewhere deep within, but the girl was unable to bask in it. Someone had lifted her, as if she weighed nothing at all, and threw her into the cab of the semi-truck.


Super Peace Busters Always Together, Forever!
Robert was just about finish up his cleaving when Sylvia's truck came jumping over the grass bumps that covered the field distancing his work-place from the main house. He only stared on as the vehicle came at him in high speed.

Sylvia hit the breaks slowly and firmly, had she done anything rash the car could have lost it's balance and wheeled around like a barrel. Exiting the car, she tried to explain what her sister had told her, but all that came out was "Switchers....caravan...Kansas..."


"No time-no time to explain. Help me get the MG3! I'll tell you in the car!"

"What?" Robert still hadn't moved and Sylvia was out of his sight. Well, if he was going to be of any help, at least he could open the back-door for her. He hadn't seen her this terrified, she was not thinking clearly, something that showed by her actions, forgetting to do the most simple tasks. Turning back around to go help her, they met halfway. "Are you crazy? You'll break your back!" Sylvia sharply replied as he helped her unload the gun in the bagage-room "Don't be silly, dad, I'm the lesbian, remember?"

"Right, right."

Twenty minutes later the truck was approaching the first and main barrier separating the town from the savages of the wilderness.

Men and women alike, some of them shouldn't be in a place like thi, too young and fragile for this situation. If switchers attacked them here with this defensive line, they'd be teared to pieces and fed to the devil. That was, unless they could stop the bloodsuckers from getting this close to town.

And this was why Robert had convinced his daughter they were doing the right thing by heading out to help the caravan. Stepping out of the car, he eyed a familiar face.

"Arnold, you are coming with me and Sylvia. You'll be mounting the MG3 on the roof." Robert pointed at the truck.

"Are you serious, Robert? We're going out there after them?" A broad-built man replied. Arnold was a member of the local hunting guild, they would need someone with his experience for the operation.

"We can't play the risk of a caravan being massacred near Gentry, they'll only multiply and we'll have to deal with a double'd amount of those devils. And as some of you have already headed out, we can only choose to follow. We need to strike them now and strike them hard....who knows, those people in that caravan might be helpful. God knows we need any help we can get. Now...let's get going!"


Suricas.jpeg Subanoni.jpg
Subanomi(black haired one) was walking with her best friend Suricas(Blonde one) scared as they were terrified of the big shcoking thing that happened with the aliens. She walked holding Suricas hand as they spotted a abnormal creature walking to Wendy's. Suricas scurried to a rock next to them and ducked. She waved her hand motioning Subanomi to come and duck with her. Subanomi stood right in her place shocked as she never saw a creature like that before. "Nomi come on it's okay if you just duck right her next to me it won't see you" she whispered quietly. But Subanomi just stood their frozen in her place as the creature open the door to Wendy's and walked in. Subanomi unforced and Suricas looked up at her as she crawled form her spot behind the rock "Nomi are you dumb?" she spoke sarcastically. "No and know i got a 4.0 GPA Suri" she shouted angrily. Suricas whispered "Stop shouting you want that thing to come back out here and Devour us?". Subanomi cried "No Suri but you no how I hate when people call me dumb". Suricas apologized to Subanomi and they continued to walk on their path.


Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
"Amy, I'm home. Why'd you hang up? Baby? Hello? Amy? Shit, what you doing in the basement? You can't be coming down here in your condition. Amy? Wha-........."

He couldn't hold onto them. First Christa had been pushed towards him, then Mars, then a pistol clip thrown. He fumbled the catch and the clip clattered down amidst the wreckage, making him curse, making him scurry instinctively to retrieve it, before a spray of bilious fluid heralded the charge of the next shifter. It spattered his shirt and ate through the fabric, stinging his eyes with noxious fumes.

He staggered, falling on his back, the acid searing his chest. Beside him Mars and Christa had lunged again to seize the unconscious boy. He saw only Mars, her distended belly frustrating her every effort to bend, to reach, to be as vital as any other. But they weren't Zivan... none of them were... Jason and the others were just clumsy and soaked in terror, thrashing as mindlessly as the Switchers who assailed them.

It was pure, adrenal panic.

It took every effort to keep hold of his gun, to force it down the back of jeans, and then he grabbed Mars's arm and shoulder, manhandling her across the scrubland towards the glinting shapes of the convoy vehicles. Zivan's gun was cracking thunder and he could hear Noel shouting - a disembodied voice amidst the panic. He had left Christa and her brother behind. He had left Haruka and Boon. He had left Zivan.

There was no other way to say it... no other way to dress it up or pretend it was heroic... Jason was afraid. His only courage now was in keeping hold of Mars.

The shape of his truck guided him - that old silhouette that had been there every night, on the long road, between rest stops and trucker yards... that old outline that formed the contour of his life. Now, more than ever, it was his abiding sanctuary... his safety... his hope. By instinct he went to the driver's side, even as he pulled Mars with him, and realising his mistake came to a stop. The girl tripped and went face-first into the asphalt.

He whirled, trying to find her, seeing only the firing line where Noel and Zivan were beating a retreat. Other vehicles from the convoy were roaring past him, their drivers accelerating in panic and not waiting for the others. They were as frightened as Jason. The air was leaving his lungs and catching sound on the way - a rhythmic gasp that threatened to break into a full scream. He pulled Mars up again but her weight was uneven and deceptive. It made him stagger against his truck for support. Throwing open the door, he got Mars into the cab and pushed her across the driver's seat towards the adjacent footwell. Then he climbed up after her, heart aching as he turned his back on the Switchers.

He slid into the seat and his arms and legs came into instinctive position. But this time it was different. This time his hands were shaking. They keys jumped, treacherously, from his fingers and dropped into the footwell. He cried out, twisted, reached, picked them up again...

...then screamed.

A Switcher slammed into the half-open door, jaws wide and sprouting mishapen bone. It had no eyes, just smooth flesh running up and over the brow, a face melted and reset like plastic. An arm snaked into the cab and seized Jason's leg with every intent to wrench it from the socket, and all he could do was yell and pull against the door, praying helplessly that it would close.

His mind conspired... it threw up images... phantom sensations. It made him imagine the teeth sinking into his sides... his ribs cracking... his screams becoming squeals as his windpipe was ripped open. For a moment he thought he would black out, but then a different snarl cut through the Switcher's. The beast was jerked backwards suddenly, falling with its chin striking the footwell before being pulled away. Jason saw Boon on the road. The dog was gnawing at the creature's ankle and dragging it away from the cab, tail wagging furiously, even as the Switcher reached and sobbed.

"BOON!" Jason found his voice as he grabbed the door again. "BOON!"

The dog released the Switcher and ran along its back, hopping up into the cab and scambling over Jason's lap. Mars got hold of him and Jason slammed the door shut, retrieving the keys with a single lunge into the footwell. He gunned the engine and the truck lurched forward - barreling into another Switcher that broke apart like bloody glass.

The beasts were all around them, at the edges of the road... a gauntlet of beautiful, twitching grotesques... half-living statues of a world forgotten.

He put the pedal to the floor and his other hand moved from the gear shift to Mars's shoulder. "HOLD ON, AMY! HOLD ON!"


Migraines, fucking migraines.

It was all he had gotten since this all started. He couldn’t take it anymore. Even thinking of the glasses in his pocket, and how if anything did arise he would have to put them on made his head hurt more. He needed to sleep but all he saw where faces. His colleagues, patients, friends….everyone, dead….even his damn dog. He did not know why they all came to surface now, it felt like it had been weeks and he had gotten over seeing things die but he just could not make them stop now.

His hands shook violently, his palms sweaty. He did not know what day it was. He felt lost when he wasn’t immersed in his art but the pounding heartache just fucked up his concentration. Whipping his hands on his worn long sleeve blue shirt, he saw the wetness leave faint marks on the material. Another reminder of what he lost. He had been home when this all began, his dog at his side, sitting on the couch as they watched television. He had perked up, and abruptly went outside. It was strange. He would always warn him when he needed to go. He was a well-trained dog.

The blast was sudden, fire everywhere. The buildings collapsed, and people lay dead where they stood. He had gotten a concussion, a deep cut on his head that bleed immensely. He was lucky he did not get totally buried below his falling roof and ceiling. It had taken time to stop it, head wounds where always the best bleeders. He hid out in his cellar. It had no windows, it was made of cement and his blast door was heavy and almost incognito. He even pushed everything heavy he could find to barricade the door for added security. Thank god for cases of water, and dried and canned food. Kansas, what a place, full of tornados and storms. His three bedroom house was not amazing, but it was his. He kept it small because of the damage from the last tornado that hit his town. His dog used to frolic in the back, happy as a dog can be. Everything changed. The ships…..

Great, not this again….He thought angrily. His fist clenched tightly, the blue veins more predominant from the strain. The frown lines on his forehead making his face look even angrier than he felt.

Why must I always remember……He sighed. He couldn’t help it, but it wasn’t the time.

Looking to the duffle bag to his right, he let his large hand reach out and grab it, bringing it forth to the front of him. He had to make sure the supplies he had were not running low otherwise he’d be in trouble. He had a stock at home, which he took and he had raided houses and buildings whenever necessary. He was alone, everything counted to his survival. Even the gun he stole from a dead corpse. Those bullets where running low too.

‘Scalpel….Sutures….Bandages….’ He counted off one by one, making sure he didn’t take anything out in case it would get lost beneath the dying grass below. He was running low on antiseptic; he had to put it on the list. The day so far had been quiet. He hadn’t seen anyone since the day before those ships came. Well no, that wasn't true. He saw plenty of humans, but they where being killed by them. He felt alone, though. At night he could hear the screams of creatures and the first couple of days he could not sleep. During the day it might have been a percentage safer but he still traveled in the shadows and as quick as he could from place to place but their where only so many shadows and sometimes had to brave the openness of the roads. The different color containers at the bottom where pills, he would have to raid a pharmacy as well, now that he remembered.

Taking out two pills, a low dose of Vicodin, he swallowed them dry. It would numb the pain he felt and perhaps then he could move on from his location. It was not safe to stay in one place for a long time. Those creatures scouted heavily and who knows what they did to them. He never did stick around to find out.

Closing the bag he pushed it back to where it was, his back cracking slightly from the angle he took to do so. He felt like he aged ten years and he was on twenty-nine. This day was just too quiet…..

‘RAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!’ The loud screeching made him jump to his feet. His tan khaki pants wrinkled and dirty with blood, the stethoscope around his neck swinging and hitting him slightly in the chin. Even from miles away their sounds still traveled loud and far.

‘Shit….’ He whispered harshly and bent to grab his duffle bag. Running away from where the noise originated was his only option, his legs pumped heavily to get away. If he only hid, they’d find him easily. He could not deal with this shit. It was too much. He missed his dog. At least he would keep him company and he would not be as lonely. He came into an empty street. His breath was ragged and sweat began to form on his brow. His hands where clammy and the sweat was accumulating and making him stink. Taking off again, he felt the ground begin to shake. The loose gravel and dirt was bouncing. Something was coming. Something big and heavy with a loud roar of an engine.

He did not know what, but it was coming. He would find out soon whether it was a good thing or bad. He hoped he did not regret continuing to run in the direction he was. At least if it was bad, he could quickly put the gun he had around the waist band of his pants, put it in his mouth and pull the trigger. If he was to go out, it’d at least be his own way. He would not give those fucking monsters the satisfaction. At least not intentionally.