Terror Strike: A Left 4 Dead Roleplay

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Raiu, Feb 13, 2012.

  1. Location: Fairfields

    Time until infection: Twenty Four hours

    Kaz yawned as he waited through another day at work. It was a summer day, meaning it was hot as hell for Pennsylvania. Thankfully he had AC or else he would have gone out of his mind.As usual at the Pump N' Run, there was absolutely no one here since it was both out of the way and unknown. Who knows, maybe two of the customers would come here, maybe even a bickering wife and husband to make things interesting. Maybe not, maybe things would just stay boring.

    Sometimes he just wished that this boring life would just go to hell.
     
  2. At 8am, Akira rolled out of bed and landed with a thud on the ground. Sitting up groggily, and now with a headache, she checked her alarm clock. Fortunately, today was one of the few golden days she had where she didn't have classes or work. All she had to do was return a book to the library, but that couod be done later.

    For now, Akira would take a shower and then chill on the couch watching movies. Not an exciting day, but relaxing nonetheless.
     
  3. [size=+2]
    FAIRFIELD, PENNSYLVANIA
    [​IMG]
    24 HOURS BEFORE INFECTION
    [/size]

    [size=+1]This was supposed to be one of my few days off, as well.

    “Seventh call I've had like this today,” Marty, my driver and fellow paramedic, informs me mournfully as we drive through the strangely quieter streets of Fairfield, “Something's doing the rounds, Rick.”
    “Probably why it's so damn quiet for this hour,” I reply as I look out the window, “I mean, goddamn. It's almost afternoon; this place should be bustling with people.”
    “We must have a lot of folk coming down with whatever the hell this is.” Marty sighs. “Gonna be a long-ass shift, my friend.”

    We turn down one of the streets to a row of houses, one of which is where our call-out has come from. There's a few dogs out in the gardens, a couple folks enjoying the sun. But not nearly enough. I'm starting to think Marty's actually talking sense for once as we pull up outside a small, two-storey family home. I'm out the ambulance first, Marty following behind me with the kit.

    I've barely knocked on the door twice before it's hauled open to reveal a heavily-built woman with a worried look on her face.
    “Oh thank the Lord!” she exclaims before I even have time to speak, “I was starting to think you'd never come! This way, please.” She's motioning us inside and continuing to talk as we enter the house; it's no easy task to manage to get a word in, but I do.
    “How long has he been in the state you described over the phone?” Marty asks as we move through the house.
    “Since I woke up and found him this morning. I thought it was just a cold, or maybe he'd been drinking last night but didn't want to tell me.” The worry in her voice becomes almost palpable as she continues.

    “Then it got worse. See for yourself.”

    Pushing open the door to the living room, Marty and I come face-to-face with what we've been called here for. A teenage boy slumped across the couch, his skin a pale, almost grey colour. He looks barely conscious, his eyes flickering open and closed as we approach.
    “Adam?” his mother says quietly, kneeling down next to him as I grab my gear, “Adam, the ambulance is here, honey. Everything's gonna be fine.” All the kid manages to respond with is a low moan. Really not good. If this is a fever it's spreading faster than any I've ever seen.
    “Marty, we're gonna need that gurney,” I tell my colleague quietly as I check Adam's pulse. Marty nods and runs back out to the ambulance. His heart's still going but it's weak, straining. He's sweating copiously too. Burning up.

    “Is he gonna be alright, mister?” the mother asks. I look up to her terrified face, and I really do wish I could tell her something more reassuring.
    “Ma'am, I really don't know.”

    This was supposed to be one of my few days off, as well.

    SUMMARY (open)
    Rick has been called into work despite it supposedly being one of his few days off. He and his partner Marty have received a call regarding a sick person. Arriving at the house, they find a teenage boy in the late stages of a fast-moving fever, the likes of which Rick has never seen before.
    [/size]
     
  4. It was basically another day relaxing at a military base. No war, no hostiles, no worries. Just soldiers of all ranks going around either training or playing a few rounds of basketball. All around were walls of pure stel armed with sentry turrets that wouldn't be used. Just a big armed space without use, unless it was across country. Down in the living quarters, people were watching a little TV. You know, something to do if the day just wasn't passing fast enough or if there was no action. There were rows up to rows of chairs and men sitting around the TV, watching something urgent on the news. And in the front Row, was Brandon. Almost stunned in place from staring for so long.

    "Hey Lt. Fields," said one of the privates in the room, "If you stare at it that long you'll go blind you know." Brandon only turned around to look at the soldier with not a single expression. Brandon was always told he had amazing brown eyes, but he could dish out a stare that rips at your soul. "Woah, ok Lt. Have it your way." he replied to Brandon's look. Fields was apart of a big branch of U.S Special Foces. His group handled the strange shit, and not that big foot bull. No, they handled Bioweaponry and Search and Destroy operations. If there was another team to take their place, then good luck with that. Brandon turned back to the screen and started flipping through the channels to find something interesting. As he flipped through he saw a broadcast coming from Fairfield, Pennsylvania. A female reporter was talking about how people were sauddenly becoming fataly ill with the bird flu?

    Bird Flu, really? he thought to himself. My cousin had Bird Flu and this sure as hell don't look like it. He turned up the TV to listen close to the reporter and then burned the following wrds into his brain.

    "Men and women have been constantly finding themselves suddenly sick for past hour. Many have been needed to be brought to the hospital for extreme attention just to supress the sickness. No one knows how long this will last, but others have said it may become worse within 24 hours. This is Jenny Clayborn, signing off."
     
  5. "Hmrph." he grunted.

    Elliot had been in a hospital bed for he last day or so. His head had swollen up, like an over sized melon. He never even saw the swing. This was not a very a good week. A finger reached up to touch the mark. Big mistake. Pain shot through his body.

    "Hmph!"
     
  6. [video=youtube;Qca4cWRhDkU]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qca4cWRhDkU[/video]

    "¡No sabes como te deseo!
    No sabes como te he soñado."


    Kendra was doing her regular: mid-day outdoor laundry. It was surprisingly pretty and quiet outside in Fairfeild which made for a perfect day of chores. That way shouldn't have those bratty ass kids coming to her door and asking her for something like they did every single day. The date had slipped her mind but it must have been something important because school seemed to be out. There was nobody out at the bus stop in the morning because she always watched it roar past her window each morning at 7:27am. It was now somewhere in early noon and what way to speed the day along then by washing her clothes by hand.

    "Si tu supieras que me mureo.
    Por tu amor y por tu labios."


    Her radio might have been the only sound that drifted down Grimhawk Street. Kendra stopped slinging a white blouse over the clothes line in front of her house to stop and fully survey the street. Usually, Grimhawk was screaming with cars, kids, and other Hispanic residents such s herself. There was always a cacophony of sounds and now, utter silence? For a 22 year old woman, Kendra was smart enough to know that something was amiss, but what could she do about it? Knock on everyone's door and demand to know the cause of their solitude? Instead, Kendra, strode over to the pile of wet, damp clothing under her and shuffled her hips to the song that played.

    "¡Oye mi amor!
    ¡No me digas que no!
    Y vamos juntando las almas."

     
  7. "This is Brent Smith with the late breaking news. The North-east city of Fairfields has recently come under siege by a strange disease. The CDC is currently investigating this so called "Green Flu" and all residents are urged to-"


    The televison in the gas station flicked off and Kaz sighed. "Great... One shift done and the bastard of a boss wants me to do another..." He sighed as he settled back down into the seat. The only thing on TV was the reruns of that horrid TV show and news coverage of this news craze. "Oh well... Only a bit longer..."


    One of
    the patients near Elliot, this one hooked up to an IV and apparently knocked out, looked deathly pale as he was wheeled out of the room, aparently to surgery.

    [[
    Little bit of info. Moving the time up quite a bit. Messing with time quite a bit. Disregard the 24 hours, except for our military people.]]
     
  8. [size=+2]
    MERCY HOSPITAL, FAIRFIELD

    SHORTLY BEFORE INFECTION
    [/size]

    [size=+1]Something isn't right.

    Calls have been coming in all across the city; Marty and I have been picking up people suffering from whatever this thing is all day. Mercy Hospital is inundated with patients under the effects of the illness. 'The Green Flu' they're calling it, according to the smug fucks from the CEDA they've been broadcasting all day. Standard 'don't panic, everything is fine' crap I've noticed they tend to spew out shortly before the shit hits the fan.

    The nurse I hand our latest pickup over to has that tired, haggard look of a person who's been on her feet all day long. Poor girl probably has; a lot of staff are sick as well today, so anyone who isn't has invariably found themselves drafted into the ranks here at Mercy. Behind me Marty's catching a breather, sitting down on one of the visitor's chairs with his head in his hands. I don't blame him; we've been on the go all day and we're probably gonna be working into the night if this keeps up.

    Then I notice him shivering.

    “Marty?” I call to him, approaching my colleague slowly, “You alright, man?” His head slowly raises at the sound of my voice, revealing pale skin and sweat running from his brow.
    “Now you mention it I'm feeling a bit shaky, actually,” he says with a weak smile, his entire frame still shaking. He's been in contact with those suffering from 'The Green Flu' all day, driving them to the hospital, checking their vitals, loading them into our ambulance. It seems that's finally caught up with him.

    “Hang on,” I mutter, turning round to motion over the nurse, “I'm gonna get you checked by a doctor.” She comes running just as Marty starts to collapse and together we manage to catch him before he hits the floor. I can feel the cloying sweat that covers his skin as I haul him back up and call for another hospital gurney to be brought.

    I'm keeping a straight face. Now isn't the time to panic, after all. But I'm starting to panic slightly. I've been to just about every one of the calls Marty has. I've transported the same patients he has, checked their vitals too.

    And now he's got this fucking flu shit as well.

    How long before I start showing symptoms?

    SUMMARY (open)
    Rick and Marty have spent the day transporting sufferers of 'The Green Flu' to Mercy Hospital, and are suitably shattered. Marty collapses and appears to have contracted the disease as well, making Rick worry for his own health.
    [/size]
     
  9. Elliot stared, with a look of concern and wonder, at the carted off patient. What the hell could he have to turn him that pale? It seems the day wasn't going to turn up anything that positive. Then again, hospital exist due to peoples bad days. Maybe that is a mixed blessing?

    Looking to his left he spots a white helmet, forest green jersey, jockstrap, and slip-on, black cleats. In between the cleats, was a note. Ripping it open he read it.


    "Dear El,

    Just wanted to let you, early, that the Hawks accepted the contracts terms. In the next
    48 hours, you will be a starting cornerback again. I am so proud that Gram-Gram and I got
    you some new gear. Maybe it will give you a bit of an edge? Anyways, call you when you get
    this. We love and miss you. <3


    Sincerely,

    Grandpa n' Grandpa Franklin


    Elliot had a large grin. He felt anew. Life had gotten better within a quickened heartbeat. In an attempt to get weird looks, he put on the gear and got back into bed.
     
  10. Brandon was dressed up in his usual attire for military common living. Basically just a olivegreen tank-top with brown cargo pants, his dog tags around his neck, light brown combat boots, and a black watch. It was pretty revealing of his gentle brown skin but it just let him know he was still breathing. Be able to feel was what he loved more than anything, since it reminded him he was human. Whether it be pain of not, it helped. For the whole moment, Brandon was trying to figure out what the situation with the sickness was. They've had several men put into the infirmary because of it.

    "Brandon!" called out a woman to his far left. It was Jenny, his squad's sniper of the group. She was the best marksman in the Special Forces. Jenny coul pick off an enemy at any distance and take your head of without looking."You've called in by the Colonal, sir." she said as she saluted him. "Thanks I'll see him now." he replied.

    Brandon wasn't one for seeing the Colonal unless it had something series by it. With everything happening on in Fairfield, he started to think. Did this have something to do with the Green Flu? Hopefully not, but if he was wrong and the Colonal was right. Then Brandon would have to be prepared for the on coming mission. The common procedure for handling a conversation with the Colonal was to sit down, shut up, and don't argue. Other wise you can call yourself "Disavowed." He went up a flight of stairs and made a left to nter the Colonal's quarters.

    "You needed to see me sir?" he said holding his hands behind his waist.

    "Brandon, an informant we've placed in Fairfield has reported back to us with... vital, information about the so called "Green Flu." The Colonal walked over to the window and looked out at the Air-field for the jets and planes. He watched as soldier ran back and forth, training hard for a mission. Meanwhile, he tuned back and slid a file across his desk to Brandon. When he picked it up, he had the idea on what to do. "The information he contains will be of great importance, so retieving it is important. You and your team will be deployed in the next 3 hours. I want you all armed and ready, you got me?"

    "Yes sir," he replied with a salute. After a few minutes of walking back to the commons; Brandon met up with his squad-mates. Jenny-codename Crow- the sniper, Danny-codename Shell Shock- the demolisionist, Sarah-codename Brick- the heavy, and Joe-codename Wraith- the stealth sapecialist. He went into the back and started arming up with his usual packaging. A five-seven handgun with a muzzle silencer, red dot, and laser pointer. For harder fights, an M4 with an ACOG attachment. They may be going on a recovery mission, but the Colonal's report said they would be deployed at night and something hostile might be running around. Jenny grabbed an MK MOD11 sniper rifle, Danny took hold of SPAS-12 and a SMAW rocket launcher, Sarah always loved her M249 SPRAW, and Joe was kinda simple since he took a SCAR-L with him. They were like the Colonal required, armed to the teeth. They had on their armor and ammunition, so all that was left was the following three hours.

    "Gentlemen, let's get a mission done. Only engage hostiles if needed, but lets keep it clean for now."
     
  11. Akira woke up with a sudden jolt. For the fourth time that day, she had fallen asleep during a movie and woken up during the credits. She sat up and turned the TV off, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Checking the time, she muttered, "Shit."

    She got off of the couch and grabbed the book she had to return to the library. If she didn't get out soon, it would get dark and the library would close. Sure, she could turn it into the book deposit outside, but it woudl be considered late if they didn't check the bins 'til the next day. Akira sighed and grabbed a jacket, feeling tired, and left.

    Outside, even though it was a little late, the streets were far too quiet. There was hardly anybody out. As a matter of fact, aside from an ambulance or two, there was no one out. Akira shrugged away a bad feeling and kept walking. She shivered as she passed by the hospital, which seemed awfully overrun. "I'd hate to be sick today," she mumbled.
     
  12. Kendra was busy ironing her forest green cargo pants that were a tad bit smaller than her natural fit but all of her other clothes were hanging on the line out to dry. She was trying to keep her boredom down to a minimum. Doing chores wasn't as entertaining as she tried to make it out to be. Then again, she'd been doing that same wishy washy shit all of her life, so she'd might as well get used to it. She was going to be cleaning for the rest of the day. The radio on the window sill was on the news channel and, of course, it was in Spanish. The music had been rudely interrupted that Kendra had to stop her salsa shuffle to listen to the news broadcast. When she caught the words of 'Fairfeild' and 'flu', her distraction was the immediate cause of her pain. In a slip, the iron ran over all four of her slender, cocoa fingers.

    "Aie! Son of a bitch!"she swore into the desolate dining room. The skin beneath the metal frame was burning and the smell of burning flesh wafted up into her nose. To say the least, Kendra was in a rage of foreign slurs. The iron went flying on the floor were it burned into the wooden tiled floor beneath it. Teeth bared back, Kendra reached her right leg backwards, wrapping her foot around the cream wire of the iron. With one yank, the plug was detached from its socket and the iron began its slow process of cooling down. All the while, the Hispanic news caster was drawling about quarantine, safety, and risks of infection.

    Infection. Not a word she wanted to hear, especially now that she damn near burned her fingers to bits. The skin was curled back around her knuckle, leaving any type of bacteria open to waltz in and fuck something up. Hissing again, the only hope for her was to wrap her wound up as best as she could and take a jog to Mercy Hospital. It was some miles down the street and across the interstate, but at her speed, she'd probably make it there in around 20 minutes. She'd hope so. Infections were not good and she had never heard of this 'Enfermo Verde' before.

    Kendra grabbed the single key she possessed to her one room house and shoved it down in her bosom while she grabbed 4 napkins and tenderly placed it around the fingers on her left hand. There was a partial skepticism of going outside in the desolate street of Grimhawk. Hell, she'd take a scary street than a fatal flu any day of the week.

    With that, Kendra swore under her breath and tore out of her door in a full out sprint down the street, squeezing the 1st degree burned knuckles to the flimsy napkins. There was not a car, person, or even bird in sight! As creepy as that shit was, Kendra had a little bit more of an importance on her mind: herself.

    Summary (open)
    While listening to the radio and ironing he pants, Kendra accidentally irons all four of her fingers. After hearing about the flu from the radio, she fears for her own infection, and takes off down the street in a 20 minute run to Mercy Hospital.
     
  13. TWENTY MINUTES UNTIL FIRST DEATH


    Kaz sighed and streached as he ended the second shift. Thank Cthulhu's uncle that General Bastard didn't want him to do another shift. He hung up his apron, glad to be out of that damn thing before he got onto his bike and pedaled away. Time for the visit while there was still time for visitor's to be there.


    TWO MINUTES UNTIL FIRST DEATH

    After nearly twenty minutes of pedaling, Kaz ended up at Mercy Hospital. As he pedaled to the hospital, he saw a college student walking past carrying a few books. Most likly heading towards the library. That made sense...

    He got off his bike and started to chain it up-

    FIRST DEATH

    Inside the hospital there was a sudden panic that seemed to originate in the upper floors. For a few minutes the panic was controlled but it soon became uncontrolled. The panic spread like wildfire through the hospital as the people infected with the Green Flu started to convulse and blood came in a mist out or their mouths as they coughed before, one by one, they stopped moving. And then they started to move again. Some simply laid there for a time before their heads moved; others moved their heads slowly. There was an inhuman slowness to them, as if they were no longer focused or even able to talk.

    Atleast, that was until a nurse got her hand near one of their mouths. The pale teenage man, which had moved with such extreme slowness before, was now lightning fast as he grabbed her arm, pulled it close and sank his teeth deeply into her soft flesh.

    Kaz's eyes widened when he heard a woman scream in pain and terror. He dropped his bike and was frozen in surprise for a moment. "What?!"
     
  14. It had been a whole 10-20 minutes since they got the order, and they were alreay taking the helicopter flight over to the Fairfield to pick up their informant. They were in radio range so the pilot advised radio contct before landing. Brandon's codename was White Wolf, ironic seeing as how he was a black guy, but it was name he kept close. The informant's name was Rat Face, his real name was confidential. Brandon put two fingers to the side of his head and listened close to the coms.

    "Rat Face, this is White Wolf, we are five minutes out from Fairfield. What is your position, over?"

    "This is Rat Face and I'm in Mercy Hospital's quarenteen room, everything is going to hell in a hand basket really fast! You've gotta help me!"

    "Rojer that, Rat Face. What is the hostile, repeat, what is the hostile?"

    "Oh my God, they've found me! Stay back! No NOOOOOO-AHHHHHH!!!!"

    Sounds of static and screams of pain echoed through the coms piece, to save himself some sanity he turned the channel back to just him and his team. Whatever was going on in Mercy Hospital wasn't good on either end.

    "What's the matter sir, you look like you've seen the devil?" Jenna asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

    Brandon looked back at her and only mumbled. "Something tells me i will..."
     
  15. Heading back, she heard a rattle and a crash. She turned to see that the young man who had rode past on a bike. His bike was onnthe ground and he had an expression of shock on his face.

    Akira hurried over. "Hey are you alright?" she asked.

    That's when she heard screaming coming from the hospital. Akira stopped dead in her tracks and a shiver went down her spine. "What the..." she began, trailing off.
     
  16. Teron walked out the grocery store with his bags in hand. Today, he was planning on making his home-made beef stew and he smiled. Today felt like a really good day. As he made his way down the street, the sun blazed high and he looked up at it with lowered eyes. The birds flew overhead in flocks and he laughed at the sight a a little. Soon after he looked back ahead of him and went into thought about what side dishes he should have. The walk seemed long but it was good exorcise for him. After all, it did keep him shape.

    But something felt off to him, like a eerie feeling built in his gut and raged. He could often feel when something was going to happen and he was mostly right about his feelings. He came across the local hospital and stopped in front of it. He turned to face the hospital and looked up at a middle window on the 4th floor. His friend was hospitalized a while ago after he had gotten into a bad motorcycle accident.

    He sighed and looked down at his feet before entering through the doors of the hospital. When he stepped inside, an ear splitting scream hit his ear from a woman who bumped into him as she ran out the door. Teron looked at her and noticed that she had a bite mark on her arm. He wasn't able to get a good look at it, but he could tell by the glimpse that he saw, it was that of a humans.

    "That was strange."
     
  17. After the few minutes lost in the chopper ride over, Brandon and his team were finally in Fairfield, Pennsylvania. Like the file described, it was soulless when they landed, not a single person or animal wondered around. Not even one of those creepy old guys you'd see crawling around. It was just empty, too empty. And you know what they say about something or quiet or too empty, something was wrong. Him and his team picked up extra supplies right before their chopper took off. In Brandon's mind this seemed too easy to just walk there, but who was gonna see? Nobody, but that worried him too. Soon after, his thoughts were broken at the sound of a woman running and screaming down the road.

    "Hey!" he shouted, "Stay were you are, we need some questions." And like most people who panic, she didn't listen. Instead she charged the other direction.

    "Should we go after her, sir? Sarah asked looking at the corner of his eye.

    "No, lets find the informant first." he replied, as he aimed his hand towards the hospital.

    They decided to go in through the back entrance. It was locked, but a good kick from Brandon busted it straight open. He put his back against the wall and commanded his team to scout it out. "Clear," signaled Jenny. Brandon quickly moved in and they started to make way up a flight of stairs, that was leading up to the third floor. The third floor was for infections and bio problems, so that's were Rat Face would be. They reached the third floor, but it was ominously silent. The door was slightly open and when he touched the nob, it was stuck in place. He looked on the other side and saw a dismembered hand on the door, and a massacre of doctors and nurses in the room.

    "What the hell happened in here..."
     
  18. Screams reached Elliot's ears. What was going on? Cleats clicked and clacked as he peeked out into the hall. No one was there but there was still screams. It sounded like it was up or down a floor. The wanted to get too much attention, he just closed the door and locked it. Whatever was going on, couldn't get to him. Right? Being quiet couldn't hurt either. So he took off his cleats and helmet.

    "Hm." he whispered


     
  19. Kaz hardly noticed the college student having moved near him, he was frozen in fear as a woman stumbled out, bleeding from a hole in her arm that had been torn out by a large animal or a human. Just what could have caused that didn't pass through his mind. His mind was set on one thing.

    He didn't say or scream anything as he took onto into the hospital, runner faster than anyone in a safer mindset could have hoped to maintain. There were a few people, standing around, limping slowly, blood on their mouths, hands and clothes, but he ignored them, ramming into them like a man posessed, shoving them out of the way. He was ignoring the elevators and heading right for the stairs. He had to get to that room. He had to make sure she was ok.
     
  20. Akira's face twisted into an expression of horror. A woman had come out of the hospital, bleeding from a bite wound. Akira's first thought was that an animal had gotten into the hospital and was rampaging, eating people. In which case, she should call Animal Control. But... They would've been called already. She put her hands on her head and stared in shock as the young man ran into the hospital.

    "Wait..." she tried calling after him, but her voice came out as a whisper.

    No words could explain what she was feeling. She wanted to help, but she really wanted to run. And then she noticed the people, limping slowly towards the door of the hospital. They were covered in blood, the most noticeable blood was on their mouths. "Fuck..." she gasped, noticing what seemed to be a strip of human flesh hanging from one's mouth.

    That was so NOT normal.