Taking down the undead

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Hades, Sep 20, 2011.

  1. Markus Kaine


    Markus Kaine never had a real job, he was a biker all his life, earned his money on illegal street fights and snooker bets at bars with guys to drunk to say no.
    He has a daughter from his Ex, why she marry him is sorta a mistery, she should have known that only death can change this one...

    Mark wakes up, he looks around and realises that he is home, he has a massive hangover from partying hard drinking, fighting last night, it was a regular night - I'm home guess I didn't score that hot chick last night... - as allways he got to drunk night to remember anything the next day.

    He looks around the house for his pants, how they got in the micro wave he'll never find out, nor is the strangest place he found them.

    While he dresses he drops his cellphone that was on his pockets, he get's down to pick it up.

    6 am... shit that's early... wait I'd never get home so early that I'd be up at this hour... "Fuck!!!" it's 6pm!!!

    This was his weekend with his daughter, the one weekend each 2 months, it was friday he was supposed to pick her at school by 4pm, 2 hour late, no wonder the kid hated him...

    He rushes getting dressed and climbing on his bike, the only thing of worth he owns a genuine Harley Davinson.
    He rides his bike recklessly allmost gets himselfe killed on the way to pick her up, almost runs over some old ladies, but he managed to perform a 15 minutes trip in only 3 minutes.
    When he arrives he doesn't find his daughter.
    "Fuck!!!" - he yells while dialing his Ex on his mobile.
    "Sara, it's my weekend, I know I'm late but... What am I talking about, you picking up Michelle of course... What! SHIT FUCK!!! No I am not kidding... Oh Fuck!!!" He runs around the school trying to spot her.
    "Shut up! Listen... LISTEN!!! You go to the police I'll look around since I am allready here... I know... I... FUCK!!!"
    He yells as the discussion drives him mad to the point of shatering the phone to pieces in his hand.
    "Fuck! Just what I needed... Hey you!" He yells whe he spots a kid from an alley nearby.
    "Come here!" He says as he runs towards him and the kid runs into the alley.
    As he crosses the alley his heart pumps fast as he sees a bunch of 5 teenagers and the kid he followed,
    gangster wannabees he can tell from the way they wear the same colors and one of the little devils is holding his daughter,
    grabbing her mouth so she won't screem, but she's only 7, he held her to tight, she is passed out,
    Markus charges on the boy who has his daughter, screaming what his lungs out in rage, unleashing a roar that freezes their hearts.
    The youngest one faints with the fear he felt when he saw Markus enraged eyes.
    The one holding his daughter trows her at Markus, who catches her in his arms.
    One of the kids hits Markus from behing with a wood board he found on the garbage at the alley.
    Markus didn't even felt the pain he just turned back holding his daughter, delivering a roundhouse kick to the little devil.
    The others charge at him with broken bottles, chains, one has a knife.
    He delivers a swarm of kicks walking with his daughter from the alley, when...
    The precious moments he had with his little girl till this day flash throught his eyes fadding to red as he falls on his knees,
    Still holding her in his arms as he falls.


    10 years after

    Markus is buried in the graveyard, suddenly he wakes up in his coffin, he can feel his flesh and bone regenerating causing him extreme pain.
    He's in the dark, he can barely move - "is this death?" - he thinks - "Just stuck in my coffin forever..." - then he listen a voice in the darkness...
    "Do you want to see your daughter again?" - then he remembers what happened.
    it was his last memory, yet he felt like he just woke up, he didn't even thought of anything since then, he remembers who he is, his brain burns in frenzy, he realises it is still regenerating, as the rest of his body.
    The voice asks again - "Do you want to see your daughter?"
    "Yes!" he tries to reply but his vocal cords are not yet done.
    "Are you willing to accept your fate?" then a picture appears in his mind


    "I'll do anything for my daughter!" - he says as his vocal cords finish regenerating.
    then he feels the earth around his coffin move, he doesn't know what is happening...
    "Is this an earthquake? Am I descending into hell?" - he thinks.
    Then the door of his coffin opens, the light burns his eyes, then he realises that he is alive again, he has finished regenerating, he is whole again.


    Then he looks around, he sees zombies all around, maybe they are like him but didn't yet heal... Maybe this is the end of days... Maybe...
    No more maybes, the zombies also spoted him and run into him roaring.

    Markus barely has time to think he side steps the first one and slams his head against the coffin stand behind him.
    he then spots a shovel nearby, he kicks the next zombie on his chin projecting his jaw across the graveyard and places himself near the shovel.
    before he can pick it up another zombie rushes towards him, Markus grabs him by the throat and slams him on the ground, then pick up the shovel and uses it to effectivilly cut some undead heads, till he can reach the undertakers storage area.
    he closes the door behind him and and puts a chair blocking it, now that he calmed down a bit he realizes that he's cold as ice, he didn't notice before cause of the adrenalin rush, he spots a coat and a hat, like in his vision.


    He now knows his what he must do, he walks off throught the back door do the mortuary mobile, and drives off.

    1 year as passed

    Markus is now known as the Undertaker, a zombie apocalise broke 3 years ago, no one know how or why.
    Markus was brought back to life after being dead for 10 years with a vision that lead him to believe his mission is to destroy the undead, he has been doing so the past few year looking for survivors, so far he had no luck.

  2. Adrian Warren
    Three years ago he'd been playing with his sitter at the lake just a mile from his home. But then a man missing an arm came screaming and a breakout soon began. His sitter pushed the young teen into an underground shelter that had been set up for hurricanes. He staid there, working out, growing stronger as he remembered the cries of his beloved sitter being eaten alive and then claw at the door days later as a rotting corpse.
    A few years passed before he heard no more at the door, his food supplies very low at that point. He scrounged together what was left and then he slipped out into the night in a slightly to small leather jacket that he kept open and black beanie to keep him warm and baggy jeans, his teenaged body not quite grown into them yet.
    He'd never seen such destruction, but now he slunk around, protecting himself and keeping himself alive until he caught word of a hunter and began on his way, determined to see if this man could help him stay alive to adulthood.
  3. [​IMG]

    "There ain't much of a good ol' vodka around these day, scarce supply -- yenno? We don't spare any for kiddies, not like we will."

    "I'm legal, you bastard!" a blonde haired girl with a short haircut snapped at the bartender, the ends of her ragged, slightly tattered black trenchcoat crashed at the floor as she sat on the old barstool. She slammed a leather gloved fist on the wooden surface, her blue eyes shot at the startled bartender angrily.

    Her name was Phoebe, a mercenary.

    After the apocalypse, mercenaries like her had higher chances of survival. Killing was her job, something she did to live. Killing was second nature to her, and survivor camps that existed from across the country, away from the zombies, hired people like her to transport and protect the civilians. In a sense, they were a lot more skilled than the police who knew nothing but talk and hold a gun -- unlike them, in which where --- it was more hands-on than anything.

    This bar, was probably one of the only bars that existed in the country -- or maybe the world, if they were invaded as well. It was located in a camo she was hired in, mostly packed with older men, dirty and bearded; with eyes restless and blank, traumatized with the bloodshed as they drank their beer. "Sorry missy, you look a lil' young to me -- guess not." the bartender shrugged, handing her a bottle of vodka as she slapped a few bills down the table.

    "You're not the only one." she grumbled, uncapping the bottle and gave a hearty drink into it. Phoebe was 20 years old, but with her slow aging - physically, she looked younger than she was. It surprised her more than anything, for mercenaries tend to look older than they look, but for her, it was the other way around. It annoyed her, because she was always underestimated, so she had to take on a tough persona to prove herself. She blamed the genes for everything.

    It's been years since she was moving the camp to other camp, everytime they moved locations, it seemed like they lessened everytime because of the attacks and find a new camp full of people to merge with. Different communities, different resources, different people. There more survivors than she thought, here at at the west. She couldn't blame them, the East had more people, and zombies --- the dumb people that they were, weren't too smart to know that there were more people here, and concentrated on the East, which is probably a ghost town now. No luck with survivors there.

    Camp population count:50

    There were only 50 people left in this country, or maybe, the world.
  4. ((thanks you for joining!))
    The Undertaker is riding down the highway, on his bike, he found and restaured it after he was brought back, but so far he didn't had any luck finding his daughter or ex-wife, the only 2 persons he cares about.
    He has a sawn off shotgun strapped to his right leg, and a big shovel on his back straped with a leather strap.

    He is ridding fast, then he spots some cars ahead the traffic jammed, could there be humans there?
  5. "Wait..." the bartender said, observing Phoebe more carefully with an arched brow. He rested his arms on the table softly, squinting his eyes "Are you the mercenary that people have been talking about?" he asked the blonde, with a prejucidicial tone.

    Phoebe smirked, taking another shot of her vodka as her other gloved hand dug inside her trenchcoat, pulling out one of the the two Colt M1860 Army Revolvers she had, "Got that right, geezer." she said haugtily, waving the gun at the bartender's face. It was of dark, rusty-silver colour with a black handle. With it's design, it was no doubt, civil-war inspired. "Explosive barrels always do the trick."


    "You're a little young for that job, missy --- what's your name?" he said, leaning away, his arms stretched away, supporting him as he scratched his chin idly.

    "No one's to young to kill..." Phoebe said, sliding off the stool; her trench coat glided in the air slightly, revealing the tanktop and tigh-tfitting she wore -- with bands on her thighs where her guns were kept. She grabbed her vodka with her, walking towards the door and turned to the bartender slightly "The name's Phoebe."
  6. He jumped back from one car door as a zombie clawsed at the window and thrust the pipe he'd sharpened through the glass and into the thing skull with a grimace of disgust. "C'mon, just one working car god damnit." He grumbled, turning at the roaring sound of an engine and scowled, hefting up his weapon and prepared to kill whoever was coming. What he saw made him pause for a moment, wondering why he recognized the clothing the figure wore but maybe it was nothing...

    He decided to stay in a defensive position, staying hidden behind one car as the other got close enough that he could tell it was a man and that was all.
  7. Markus stops his bike near by the cars.
    From a distance it looked like a traffic jam, now he realises these cars are empty abandoned, maybe the ones inside turned to zombies, what happened here, the reason these cars are occupying the street will most probably remain unclear, but it doesn't matter.
    Suddenly, from inside one of the cars, a zombie growls in despair, it's the first time in a long while he smelled humans.
    His car crashed to another he was infected and soon became a zombie, as a zombie he lacked the will to get free from the car till now, he starts to gast on the door window, trying to get ouside.
    Markus, walks by and sees the creatures desperation.

    "I don't know if I pitty you or if I just hate you." he says, before using his shovel to break throught the glass of the car and decapitate the creature.
    It's head falls on the other side along with some glass shards, just in the place Warren was hidding.
  8. He jumped back from the digusting head with a grimace, backing away with his body still tight and ready to defend himself. "Who are you?" He asked suspiciously, wondering stil what was so familiar about these things. "Are you out for money or just to kill?"
  9. Markus stares at the boy for a moment, this was the first human he found since he ressurected.
    "Are you ... human?"
    He aproches you to watch you closely in a unusual way, he's sorta still in shock to find a living human, he's not used to interact with people anymore.
  10. "Are you?" He asked, suspicious of any and all creatures. He watched him carefully, a bit terrified. The man had to be at least half a foot taller then him, and his weapon... was a lot more deadly then his sharpened pipe. "I'm sure I'm human."
  11. "I haven't seen a living being the whole last year, my name is Markus, you?"
    Markus says with a huge reliefe in his voice.
  12. "I'm Adrian..." He relaxed a little, he himself excited the the prospect of another human being after such a long time locked away in a hole.
  13. "I was beggining to think I was the only one left... where have you been? Are there others?"
    He asks putting his shovel back behing his back.
  14. "I've been locked up in a bunker... there havn't been any pther survivors I've met yet besides you." He now relaxed completely, feeling more then extatic that he'd found another human. The fact that he wasn't alone made him feel like he could skip.
  15. "You gotta tell me more about how you ended up in there later, but for now let me ask you can you drive? I would be cool if you could drive a car, cause I don't wanna leave my bike, but with a car we can transport more supplies."
  16. "I can figure it out. It's not all that difficult. And there's no real traffic to worry about anyways." He eyed the cars around them. "Just pick on and give me moment with it."
  17. Markus hops on his bike.
    "Ok kid, I'll be waiting!"
  18. He looked around and spotted a minivan, and checked all the windows before he pulled it open, pulling out decapitated corpses but patting down their bodies for money before he hopped into and eyed everything, starting up the car and taking a moment to get a feel for the car. "Geeze, people make this seem so difficult." He murmured, remembering all the tv shows he'd watched years ago where the teenagers always failer horribly at driving. "But of retards they were." He chuckled, feeling supirior.
  19. 75.jpg

    Sound cut through the forever quiet, unsettling air. By the time this noise in particular passed through one ear out the other, sending the message to her brain, finding time to react, the individual was already inside a minivan. Deep, chocolate eyes flickered up in the direction emitting noise, thin brows gently furrowing as the smaller girl crouched behind a bush on the side of the road. Hiding behind the foliage, her litte head peeked out from the shrubbery, studying this minivan, the person inside of it, from roughly twenty feet away. Her sight was enhanced, the reason unknown to her or anyone else, however she really hadn't come upon anyone to ask if they knew why. It had been too long since she communicated with a human, just too long. Surprised she could even speak english still, with her memory wiped and all, it was as if she was a messenger from some planet meant to be here with some sort of purpose. Yet, that seemed a tad farfetched when thought out loud.

    While the wind whipped at tressels of softened, dusty charcoal looking strands, held up in high uncommon ponytails, Juno clutched onto a couple of twigs from the bush, holding herself steady as the fierce gust could have easily pushed her around. Her body was light, and malnourished a bit, yet she still was walking strong, and had a brightness in her eyes. It was odd, most would be dead by now, either by being eaten alive by those creatures, or from fainting of fatigue. Yet, here she was, in such a position to be considered a creeper. The thirteen-year-old exhaled slowly, twitching suddenly as she found a bee landed on her shoulder. Whimpering, her immediete reaction was to run away, though instead she just fell down to the side, causing gravity to win over her once and for all. Rolling down the side of the road into a small ditch nearby, dust flew around her, dirtying her clothing and snickering inanimately all the while. Shaking her head, coughing abruptly in between desperate inhales for fresh air, Juno winced to notice her left ankle felt sprained. Silent still, her nose scrunched up as pain crept along her spine, holding back any childish tears. This moment in time was not one for tears. Tears would never save you now, ever, never ever never. No, she was strong, she and knew it. Wiping at her cloudy vision, her limbs squirmed to lift up her figure, though finding it hard at the moment, she simply would fall right back down to her bottom against the hard ground. Grunting with frusteration, she decided to wait it out a few minutes longer, with hope staying in her mind. The miracle of still being alive today left her with one conclusion: Hope was all that one could ask for in dark times.
  20. He was moments away from driving off when he noticed a dust cloud puff up out of the ditch an, put the car back into park, snagging the keys. He glanced over at the other man. "I think somethings in the ditch, I'm going to check and make sure it's not some zombie." He called, walking over slowly, his pipe held up and ready to kill. His eye brows raised when he saw a small body and flipped his pole so that it was the blunt end and nudged it, wondering if maybe it was a human and not a zombified little kid or something.