Re: LAST. THING. STANDING. [S!1][ROUND ONE: TELEVISION LAND]
12-03-2011, 11:01 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by WaveOfBabies.
They say the only thing man has to fear is fear itself. Those who say this have never pondered the reality of a zombie apocalypse. Seeing places once so full of life abandoned as humanity desperately tries to outrun the swarm, seeing grisly sights of cruelty from man and undead alike, seeing a man being ripped apart by his own loved ones. One could almost argue that zombies WERE fear itself. It was almost a mockery of human beings themselves, shambling forward mindlessly with no thoughts but to kill and consume. What a perfect place for the awakening of a certain Ablendan Blake.
~~~~
Alblendan made his way through an abandoned town, his tattered robe covering him as he watched for any activity whatsoever. His single remaining eye darted around like that of a predator, adapted to the darkness of his hood to try and pick out any potential prey. He was not so fortunate, though, as to successfully spot anything. The skies seemed an unnatural grey, and a cold wind was blowing that chilled him to the bone. The occasional dramatic crack of thunder was accompanied by hard rain, pounding on his head like hailstones. His vision seemed clouded over by strange, black particles. He swiped at them with his claw-like hands, irritated by this strange development we know today as film grain.
He continued to romp down the streets, as one thought went through his mind: hunger. Feed, the flies of Beelzebub demanded, Alblendan clutching his head to try and block out their droning cries. He knew this hunger well, but their constant reminders were not helping at all. Then, suddenly, his nose twitched. He knew the smell he had just detected: blood. He darted off in the direction of the smell on all fours, following his nose like a grimdark cereal mascot.
~~~~
The survivors were your usual zombie hunting sort. The older father figure, a priest named Father Pedro. The blue-collar ordinary one, Richard Silas. The young, spunky girl, Katie Sanders. And finally the ex-con with a chip on his shoulder, Max Grimes. In the current part of the zombie film, the ex-con had just taken a bad wound from a zombie encounter. He clutched his stomach, which had deep slash marks on it thanks to a zombie's horrible claws. Naturally, this would be the part where the spunky girl applies first aid even as the ex-con provides his gruff objections. Then they would probably strike up a whirlwind romance until death or evacuation came. However, a ghastly moan let the survivors know that their time was numbered. Dragging Max into a house so they could properly provide first aid for him, the survivors grabbed their traditional zombie-killing shotguns and began to prepare for the inevitable swarms.
~~~~
Ablendan continued dashing forward, until the smell of flesh blood was overcome by a smell very familiar to him. Rotten flesh. Scowling, Ablendan stood once more and tried to detect the overwhelming scent that was now assaulting him. As he looked around, he noticed a group of depressingly grey looking people. Or at least, they looked like people. They stood hunched over, their movements slow as they all stood around a single house. Sometimes they banged on the door, and other times the horrible sounds of scratching were heard as they tried to scratch their way through it. For a little while, Ablendan was confused. Were these humans or not? He continued examining them, sniffing the air. They smelled of carcasses, not of life.
He looked at the ground next to him, noticing a small stick. Better than nothing. He drew the stick back and hurled it right at one of the strange "people." It hit with a wet, meaty thud, as the creature turned around. It noticed Alblendan, its mouth creaking open as it let out a ghastly moan. Slowly it shambled forward, its mouth agape, but before Alblendan could attack the strange creature its head exploded into a shower of brains. A loud shot was heard, causing Alblendan to leap back with surprise. What the hell was that?
~~~~
"Ha! Got him!" cheered Richard, as he watched the zombie's head blow to pieces before the might of his shotgun. He was too busy celebrating his kill and focusing his sights on another zombie to notice the strange hooded man fleeing the scene. Father Pedro, confused, followed the strange man with the sight of his gun. Was it human or not? Zombies didn't seem to react to sounds and sights like the hooded man did, after all. He eventually lowered his gun after giving the decision much thought. Probably some confused hobo the swarm missed. He and Richard continued gunning down zombies, as Katie tried to get Max back on his feet.
~~~~
Alblendan broke and ran, but as he did so he once more turned his head to the house. Literally, the head turning at least more than ninety degrees to get a better look. Two men were hanging outside the windows, long tubes in their hands. They resembled the muskets of his time, but much more complicated. As he took in his sight, three things became clear. These strange creatures were not human, and judging by how they smelled weren't edible either. There were humans inside of the house, presumably the source of the delicious blood he had smelled earlier. And finally, these humans were armed and potentially very dangerous.
He smirked. Messing with these humans would be much more profitable for him than attacking the zombie horde. They would be inedible, and any death they brought on would be long and unpleasant. These humans, on the other hand, would make both fine meals and fine executioners. In either defeat or victory, he would profit from such a venture. Realizing what he had to do, he climbed a tree and prepared himself. After all, these monsters were groundbound. Why would their prey anticipate an aerial assault? If he missed he would fall into the sea of zombies, but if he succeeded he would be in a perfect position to strike.
Taking a deep breath, he flew forward in a leap of faith.
They say the only thing man has to fear is fear itself. Those who say this have never pondered the reality of a zombie apocalypse. Seeing places once so full of life abandoned as humanity desperately tries to outrun the swarm, seeing grisly sights of cruelty from man and undead alike, seeing a man being ripped apart by his own loved ones. One could almost argue that zombies WERE fear itself. It was almost a mockery of human beings themselves, shambling forward mindlessly with no thoughts but to kill and consume. What a perfect place for the awakening of a certain Ablendan Blake.
~~~~
Alblendan made his way through an abandoned town, his tattered robe covering him as he watched for any activity whatsoever. His single remaining eye darted around like that of a predator, adapted to the darkness of his hood to try and pick out any potential prey. He was not so fortunate, though, as to successfully spot anything. The skies seemed an unnatural grey, and a cold wind was blowing that chilled him to the bone. The occasional dramatic crack of thunder was accompanied by hard rain, pounding on his head like hailstones. His vision seemed clouded over by strange, black particles. He swiped at them with his claw-like hands, irritated by this strange development we know today as film grain.
He continued to romp down the streets, as one thought went through his mind: hunger. Feed, the flies of Beelzebub demanded, Alblendan clutching his head to try and block out their droning cries. He knew this hunger well, but their constant reminders were not helping at all. Then, suddenly, his nose twitched. He knew the smell he had just detected: blood. He darted off in the direction of the smell on all fours, following his nose like a grimdark cereal mascot.
~~~~
The survivors were your usual zombie hunting sort. The older father figure, a priest named Father Pedro. The blue-collar ordinary one, Richard Silas. The young, spunky girl, Katie Sanders. And finally the ex-con with a chip on his shoulder, Max Grimes. In the current part of the zombie film, the ex-con had just taken a bad wound from a zombie encounter. He clutched his stomach, which had deep slash marks on it thanks to a zombie's horrible claws. Naturally, this would be the part where the spunky girl applies first aid even as the ex-con provides his gruff objections. Then they would probably strike up a whirlwind romance until death or evacuation came. However, a ghastly moan let the survivors know that their time was numbered. Dragging Max into a house so they could properly provide first aid for him, the survivors grabbed their traditional zombie-killing shotguns and began to prepare for the inevitable swarms.
~~~~
Ablendan continued dashing forward, until the smell of flesh blood was overcome by a smell very familiar to him. Rotten flesh. Scowling, Ablendan stood once more and tried to detect the overwhelming scent that was now assaulting him. As he looked around, he noticed a group of depressingly grey looking people. Or at least, they looked like people. They stood hunched over, their movements slow as they all stood around a single house. Sometimes they banged on the door, and other times the horrible sounds of scratching were heard as they tried to scratch their way through it. For a little while, Ablendan was confused. Were these humans or not? He continued examining them, sniffing the air. They smelled of carcasses, not of life.
He looked at the ground next to him, noticing a small stick. Better than nothing. He drew the stick back and hurled it right at one of the strange "people." It hit with a wet, meaty thud, as the creature turned around. It noticed Alblendan, its mouth creaking open as it let out a ghastly moan. Slowly it shambled forward, its mouth agape, but before Alblendan could attack the strange creature its head exploded into a shower of brains. A loud shot was heard, causing Alblendan to leap back with surprise. What the hell was that?
~~~~
"Ha! Got him!" cheered Richard, as he watched the zombie's head blow to pieces before the might of his shotgun. He was too busy celebrating his kill and focusing his sights on another zombie to notice the strange hooded man fleeing the scene. Father Pedro, confused, followed the strange man with the sight of his gun. Was it human or not? Zombies didn't seem to react to sounds and sights like the hooded man did, after all. He eventually lowered his gun after giving the decision much thought. Probably some confused hobo the swarm missed. He and Richard continued gunning down zombies, as Katie tried to get Max back on his feet.
~~~~
Alblendan broke and ran, but as he did so he once more turned his head to the house. Literally, the head turning at least more than ninety degrees to get a better look. Two men were hanging outside the windows, long tubes in their hands. They resembled the muskets of his time, but much more complicated. As he took in his sight, three things became clear. These strange creatures were not human, and judging by how they smelled weren't edible either. There were humans inside of the house, presumably the source of the delicious blood he had smelled earlier. And finally, these humans were armed and potentially very dangerous.
He smirked. Messing with these humans would be much more profitable for him than attacking the zombie horde. They would be inedible, and any death they brought on would be long and unpleasant. These humans, on the other hand, would make both fine meals and fine executioners. In either defeat or victory, he would profit from such a venture. Realizing what he had to do, he climbed a tree and prepared himself. After all, these monsters were groundbound. Why would their prey anticipate an aerial assault? If he missed he would fall into the sea of zombies, but if he succeeded he would be in a perfect position to strike.
Taking a deep breath, he flew forward in a leap of faith.